#The Riddler x you

[drk1b0]

pov: the riddler wants to ask you out on a date

[cl3fairyyy]

hide and seek || edward nashton / the riddler x fem reader (nsfw !) ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

summary || your sex life recently with edward has been non existent. with him being so focused on his plans for gotham, you have found your needs being neglected. you decide to take initiative and plan a fun game for edward while he's at work.

warnings || SMUT!! there is plot but this is pretty much straight up porn lol. reader and edward role-play a kidnapping scenario but everything is consensual!! slapping, restraints, degradation, light knife play, overstimulation, p in v, pussy eating, choking, hunting(?kind of?), (fake) threats of violence, mentions of stalking, the suit stays ON during sex, some weird purity/ corruption stuff in this idk i think a demon possessed me halfway through writing this. minors please do not interact!!

word count || 4k i did not mean for it to be this long oopsie!!

notes || i haven't written smut in a LONG time so i am so sorry if this is straight up garbage pls go easy on me. recently reread year one and im seriously going insane the hyperfixation is so back guys. i love writing edward so much especially when it comes to writing some nasty porn about him LOL. i srsly had no idea how to end this so its kinda bad sorry D:

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In recent months, you have found yourself growing increasingly frustrated. For the longest time, you haven’t had the faintest idea of what has been causing this, and that has caused it to manifest itself in various ways throughout your everyday life. You have found yourself much more easily annoyed by the most minor inconveniences, and have had repeated warnings at work to stop arguing with customers over the pettiest of matters. 

One afternoon in late November, whilst attempting to share in your boyfriend’s body heat on the sofa of your freezing living room, watching the news and listening to him ramble about finally ‘revealing the truth,’ it hits you. 

Edward hasn’t fucked you in months. 

Even before this change, you didn’t have the most active sex life- you were both too busy holding down your day jobs whilst simultaneously investigating the corruption poorly concealed beneath Gotham’s cobbled streets. Still, you’d find the time every other week or so to take care of each other. 

You love having sex with Edward; he’s so gentle with you, handling you like a precious gem that will shatter if dropped. He always makes sure your needs are met before he even thinks of himself, worshipping your body with an obsession akin to a deeply faithful Catholic’s love for Christ himself.  

But sometimes... it can get boring. Not as boring as not having sex at all, but boring enough that you often find yourself lying awake at night, longing for Edward to keep up his Riddler persona for just a little while longer after he arrives home from doing whatever he does to have the coppery scent of blood soaking into the walls of your small apartment. 

You know your frustration will only worsen the longer you go without having sex, so you decide to do a small experiment. 

You take the next few days off work, pretending to be sick, and Edward, usually ever attentive to your every need, your Edward, who begins panicking if you all but sniffle the wrong way, barely notices. With your theory proven that his work has been turning him into someone who is evidently not your sweet Edward, you begin doing everything you can for even an ounce of attention from him. You give him shoulder massages after he returns home from a long day at work, cook him his favourite meals, run baths for him, at some point it evolves into you all but throwing yourself at him, and you have to take a step back to reevaluate your approach. Being that desperate for sex is not a good look, especially when your boyfriend is completely oblivious to how horny you are.  

You decide you need to formulate a plan to force him to focus on you. 

It starts with the lingerie. You scour the shopping apps on your phone for an embarrassingly long time, trying to find something perfect. You eventually come across a pretty lilac set, its sheer mesh bra framed with soft ruffles and feminine frills to accentuate your chest, and immediately order it, even begrudgingly spending a little extra for next day delivery. 

The next step of your plan is to come up with a simple puzzle, something stimulating but still to the point- you're so horny that you know the next time you’re in a room with Edward while he still has that Riddler costume on, it’s going to take some real self-restraint to stop yourself from ripping it off him.  

The final step of your plan is waiting for the perfect moment to put everything into action. You realise it isn’t the most complicated or glamorous scheme to ever exist, but if it manages to work and allows you to finally get some action, you won’t be complaining.  

One evening, when it’s well past 5pm, and definitely well past the time Edward should have been home from the office, you get a text from your beloved. 

hi honey, moved tuesday’s plans forward to today. got an opening with savage and cant miss it. will be home late- ill pick up food on my way back. love you. 

we’re finally making some REAL change : ) 

You almost leap out of your chair with excitement, rushing around the apartment to make sure everything is in place for your little game of hide and seek. 

When Edward finally returns home, the apartment is dark- it’s well past 11pm, so he figures you’re in bed. He sighs, setting down the takeaway bag on the coffee table and calling out your name, pausing when you don’t answer. You always wait up for him when he’s running his late-night ‘errands.’ When he thinks about it more, he realises you didn’t even text him back earlier this evening; you’ve been sick, too- what if you collapsed, or had complications, or worse?  

Before he can begin panicking, he finally notices the lit candle on the kitchen counter. Next to it is a piece of paper, which Edward gingerly picks up with shaking hands, reading the five words scrawled across it. 

‘Dear Riddler, 

Come find me.’ 

Confusion clouds Edward’s mind for a moment before he realises that he’s reading your handwriting, and the sweet flowery scent giving him a headache is his favourite perfume of yours. He stands still for a moment, rereading the note as the familiar feeling of want begins to curl in his lower belly. You’ve never actually addressed him as the Riddler before. 

He definitely likes it. 

You crouch uncomfortably in your hiding space beneath the dining table, straining your ears against the silence of the apartment as you try to gauge how Edward has taken your little game based off his breathing. You hear the rustling of fabric and the sound of something zipping up, and realise he must’ve slipped his jacket and mask back on because his breaths are definitely muffled now.  

He begins taking slow, deliberate steps around the apartment, his combat boots loudly thudding on the wooden floorboards as he does so. You suddenly feel very vulnerable in only your undergarments and wonder if this is how his victims must feel, a thrill tingling deliciously up your spine. 

You shift a little in your spot, trying to find a way to crouch comfortably while also remaining out of sight. Your heart pounds so hard in anticipation of being spotted that you’re sure Edward can hear it, especially when his footsteps begin to head towards your hiding spot.  

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the sound of your breathing to an absolute minimum; the silence in your apartment is deafening and, for the first time in all the years you have known him, you begin to feel almost weary of Edward’s presence. In this moment, you’re not just Edward’s partner. 

You’re his prey. 

So wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t hear Edward’s footsteps behind you. You feel two strong, gloved hands grab your hips and rip you out of your thoughts. You squeal giddily as Edward throws you onto the wooden dining table, biting your lip to stifle the giggles that threaten to spill out. 

Edward looms over you, his glasses glinting in the moonlight that seeps into the apartment through the cracks in the blinds. He is completely silent, save for the heavy breaths muffled by his mask. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and raspy, and the sound of it sends tiny shivers of excitement up your arms. 

“I’ve been watching you for so long. Every move you make, I’ve followed from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch you up. Do you know how hard it’s been? Hearing your pathetic whimpers while you fuck yourself every night, and having to wait until it’s me making you unravel? But now I have you here, all to myself, and no one is around to save you.” 

The sight of him like this, so indescribably large compared to you, looking down on you like a lion that has captured its prey and is about to rip it to shreds- it sends sparks of arousal through you that pool in your sheer underwear. You look up at Edward through your eyelashes, smiling innocently. 

“Looks like you caught me.” 

With that, he drags you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads towards your bedroom. Your face burns, unsure of when or how he got so strong, and the anticipation of what he is about to do to you sends tingles of delight down your spine. 

Edward throws you carelessly onto the bed before straddling you. He wordlessly grasps your wrists in one gloved hand, holding them above your head while he rips off a piece of duct tape from the roll that dangles from his belt, and binds them together securely. He subtly tilts his head to the side, and you can read him so well at this point that you know he’s asking if your restraints are too tight. You shake your head, and he immediately melts back into character, sweeping his gaze down your exposed body predatorily.  

His gloved hands reach forward, roughly groping your breasts, pinching and rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers. You squeak, writhing beneath him, deciding to put on a bit of a show with it. 

“P... please, don’t...” you whimper pathetically, bucking your hips into his. You hear him groan under his breath above you, removing one hand from your chest to grip your chin harshly, squishing your cheeks together. “Shut up.” His voice is low and dangerous when he speaks, a complete contrast to the sweet voice Edward usually addresses you with. “You’re trapped here, and no one is coming for you. You can scream as loud as you want, it won’t make a difference.” 

“You’re so pitiful, dressed up like one of those whores on the street just to get my attention.” He breathes out slowly, slipping a gloved finger beneath your bra to massage your nipple. “I can’t say it hasn’t worked, but a whore is still a whore. You need to be cleansed, like the rest of the filth in this city, and the only person willing to do that is me. That’s why,” he pauses, the hand gripping your chin roughly yanking your mouth open as he leans over you, pulling up his mask slightly and spitting in your mouth, “you will take everything I give to you like a grateful little bitch.” 

He slaps your face, hard enough to sting but not enough to bruise, and you swallow the mixture of your saliva and his. You can’t stop the moan that slips out from between your parted lips, and he locks eyes with you, his pupils blown so wide with arousal that his eyes appear completely black in the low light. He leans forward again, pulling up his mask, and harshly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his knee forces your legs apart. You whimper when you feel his erection brush against your thigh and he bites down on your bottom lip, hard. He moves his focus to your neck and collarbones, attacking the sensitive skin with kisses and bites, marking every inch of you that’s visible. 

“This is so,” he murmurs breathlessly between fervent kisses to your skin- and, Christ, is he smelling you?- “everyone knows you were fucked by the Riddler. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For everyone to know that you’re such a whore that getting fucked by a serial killer gets that pathetic cunt of yours completely soaked.” You moan at his words, arching your back to press your chest against his as you grind against his knee. 

“Such a needy little thing. One touch from me and you’re already at my complete disposal.” He leans back on his heels to look over you, your hair a complete mess, your lips swollen and as red as the flush on your skin. The strap of your bra has slipped down your shoulder and Edward’s breaths become haggard as he reaches for the knife on his belt; he cuts away the fabric hiding your breasts from him, much to your dismay (that lingerie set was pretty fucking expensive), and immediately takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before biting down lightly. You moan louder, squirming against your restraints and trying to pull away from him. 

He slaps you again, harder this time, running the flat side of his knife against the mark that begins blooming on your cheek. “If you don’t shut up and take it like a good girl, I'll have to hurt you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin a face as pretty as yours.” 

You whimper, rubbing your clothed core against Edward’s thigh, feeling the arousal in your lower belly build from the stimulation. Edward certainly doesn’t miss this, his eyes widening slightly as he peels your underwear away from your pussy. A string of your own slick connects you to the mesh fabric, and you can hear the amusement in Edward’s voice when he says, “oh, I’m going to ruin you.” 

He cuts your underwear away, dragging his knife down your body painfully slowly. You shiver from the cool metal, whining from frustration when Edward’s gloved fingers spread your glistening folds, pointedly ignoring your throbbing clit. 

“You pathetic girl... so wet for me. No one else could get you to react like this from their words alone, could they?” You shake your head rapidly, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get closer to Edward’s fingers. “Say it, then.” He begins lazily rubbing circles into your clit, causing you to cry out with relief at him finally touching you. He runs the blunt end of his knife across your neck, twisting it in his hand so the tip presses into your skin, not quite breaching your flesh. “Nice and clear for me. Tell me that you’re my bitch.” 

You moan when he begins speeding up his movements on your clit, stumbling over your words. “I.. I’m your- your b-” He cuts you off with another slap to your cheek, and the action sends a sharp jolt of pleasure right to your clit, causing you to choke out a moan. “Not quite, pretty girl. Try again. Whose bitch are you?” Your eyes narrow with confusion for a second before you realise what he wants you to say. 

“I’m th- the Riddler’s bitch.” 

He nods, satisfied, pushing two gloved fingers inside of you while the other continues rubbing your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, whimpering and giving Edward a pleading look. 

He nods wordlessly and you unravel, your orgasm enveloping your body in a blissful warmth as your pussy clenches hard around Edward’s fingers. He breathes out through his nose, hard, as he watches you cum, his cock throbbing at the feeling of your pussy spasming around his fingers.  

Edward pulls his fingers out of you when your body finally finishes shaking, inspecting your wetness on them in the low light of your bedroom for several moments, before pushing them under his mask and sucking them clean. He moans at the taste of you, and you feel his dick twitching against your leg as he closes his eyes, savouring you. He sighs, opening his eyes. 

“I need more.” 

Before you can react, he’s gripping your waist with strong hands, dragging your body up against him, holding you up almost completely off the bed, and hooking your legs over his shoulders. Edward gazes at your drenched cunt with a hunger in your eyes that you've never seen displayed by him, his breaths deep and shaky as he smells the arousal leaking out of you. You squeak, thighs still quivering from your previous orgasm. 

“W-wait, Ed- Riddler, I... I’m still t-too sensitive for...” You cut yourself out with a cry of pained pleasure as he latches his mouth onto your pussy, pushing his tongue into your sensitive hole. You sob as he sucks on your clit, shocks of overstimulation wracking through you as you weakly kick your legs against him, your body growing limp. The sounds Edward makes as he devours your pussy are obscene, the room filling with echoes of your cries and Edward’s moans as he sucks and licks crudely at your sex. 

He pulls away occasionally, praising and degrading you in barely coherent pussydrunk babbles: “such a perfect girl for me,” “stupid bitch, such a needy whore for your savior,” “so pretty with mascara running down your face,” “any louder and I'll give you a real reason to cry,” “taste so good, i need all of you.” And it’s all so much, his tongue writhing so deep inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass, the cool leather biting into your flesh, the way he moans and ruts into the bed from the taste of you, and before you can even breathe you’re cumming again, and you’re cumming so hard your back lifts off the bed entirely, the strength of your orgasm rocking you all the way to your core. Your mind goes blank as a chain of choked moans and sobs spill from between your lips, all you can focus on being the way Edward continues to fuck you with his tongue all the way through your orgasm. You can feel your slick sliding down your thighs, and when Edward pulls away you can see it dripping down his chin, and you don’t miss the proud grin on his face as he pulls down his mask. 

He drops you back onto the bed, straddling you once more and wiping your slick from his chin with his finger, motioning for you to open your mouth. You obey him and he pushes the digit inside, motioning for you to suck it clean. When he pulls his finger from your mouth, his eyes darken, and you can practically feel the smug smile in his words. “Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? No one can make you cum like I can... and I can still smell how horny you are for me. You’re so needy, yet you’re never satisfied.” 

He tilts his head, and the dim light from the lamp behind him illuminates him similarly to a halo, and you almost find yourself beginning to create a religion in your head just to worship him. 

“I don’t think you’re being very grateful.” 

You begin crying out words of thanks, rubbing your legs together to lessen the ache of overstimulation. Edward's knees cage you in, and he grips one of your thighs with his hands. 

“Quit your grovelling and stop fucking moving when I’m talking to you.” His hand travels to your face, cupping your cheek with a surprising tenderness as he sighs. “You’re still so filthy... look what this city has done to you. I suppose I’m your last hope.” 

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, finally freeing his cock from its confines. The tip is an angry red and leaks with precum, and Edward lets out a breathy moan as he strokes it. He spreads your legs, lining himself up with your sex and pushing into you slowly. He gazes down at you, a complete mess beneath him, and groans. “You’re so lucky... being fucked by Gotham’s salvation...” 

You can barely think, let alone speak, and when Edward begins moving his hips, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it, you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. He moves in and out of your agonisingly slowly, and when you look up at him, you can make out that his eyes are closed as he savours the feeling of you. 

“Your virgin pussy is so... so fucking tight. Oh... h-how does it feel to be fucked by your saviour? Your God?” 

You sniffle beneath him, choking on your sobs as he speeds up to a punishing pace, his cock bruising your insides. He grabs at every inch of you, his hands finding refuge around your throat. 

“Oh, you’re so good. You were so filthy, but I will cleanse you. I will purify you; I will plant the seed of hope within you, and you will be saved.” 

He babbles on as he fucks you, squeezing his fingers around your throat, verging on crushing your windpipe but never quite gripping hard enough. You cry out for him, so cockdrunk and lightheaded from your sudden lack of oxygen that you find yourself looping your bound wrists around his neck, pulling him forward and crashing your lips to the rough leather of his mask. He makes a noise of surprise before his fingers once again find your clit, rubbing at it desperately as his hips begin to stutter against your own. 

Edward, ever the gentlemen, wants you to cum before him; you feel your cheeks grow warm at the thought, and pull away to look at him. You can barely keep your focus on him, your vision going hazy, and he begins assaulting your clit with more fervor. 

“Be a good little angel and cum for your savior.” 

Your vision goes white as the orgasm rips through you, your entire body spasming as your pussy clenches down hard on Edward’s cock. He has to stop moving to prevent himself from cumming as he guides you through your own orgasm, his fingers weaving through your hair as he coos at you. 

“Yes, that’s it. Such a perfect girl. So pretty cumming on my cock.” 

He begins speeding up again, his hips slapping against yours with a clumsy rhythm, his breathy moans growing louder and more desperate with each thrust. You lay, exhausted, whimpering incoherent words of encouragement to him as he chases after his own climax. 

You feel him begin to pull out and you weakly wrap your legs around his hips. “W-want you inside. Need... need you to cleanse me from the inside.” 

Your words are what tip Edward over the edge, and he whimpers loudly as his cum spills inside you, his hips grinding into yours as he relishes in the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

Thank God you're on birth control.

Edward slowly pulls out of you and cuts the duct tape that binds you, gently pressing kisses to the insides of your wrists. He pulls off his fogged up glasses and his mask, placing a gentle kiss to your lips as he smiles at you worriedly. 

“I didn’t go too far, did I?” 

There's your lovely Eddie.

You shake your head, laughing weakly and he smiles, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he helps you to your feet and guides you to the bathroom, letting you use his body for support. Edward sits you on the lip of the bath and dampens a towel, gentle cleaning you up and placing loving kisses to every bare patch of skin he can reach. He reluctantly leaves you alone to freshen up as he straightens up the bed, changing into his pajamas and finding your favourite t shirt of his to sleep in. 

When you re-enter the bedroom, with a slight limp that Edward definitely notices but refuses to comment on, he dresses you and tucks you into bed before lying next to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes. 

“Sorry I’ve been so... distant lately.” 

When you go to answer him, he rubs his thumb soothingly on your cheek and you get the message that he hasn’t finished talking. 

“We have big things planned, we both know that, but... it wasn’t right of me to not look after you when, now that I look back at it, you really made it obvious that you needed me to. I hope you can forgive me.” 

You smile, pressing a shy kiss to Edward’s lips. 

“Don’t apologise, Eddie. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can apologise tomorrow when I can’t feel my legs or sit down properly for a week.” 

He laughs and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.  

“I really love you, you silly girl. A-and..."

He pulls away from you but continues to avert his gaze, his cheeks pink and a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

"The, um, th-the lingerie was very pretty, you looked really lovely. I'm, ah, sorry about..."

He doesn't meet your eyes and you snort, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek with a fond smile.

"Yeah. That I'm not so quick to forgive. You have no idea how expensive nice underwear is when you're a woman."

Edward laughs shyly, delicately holding your wrist and pressing tender kisses to your palm that leave you melting. The heat in his eyes, however, is undeniable.

"I absolutely will not complain if you decide to spend all my money on pretty lingerie and then decide to model said lingerie for me."

"You're unbelievable."

You both laugh as Edward continues peppering soft kisses up your arm, then your bruising neck before finally meeting your lips in a tender kiss. He pulls away, and the way he looks at you with such love and adoration almost makes you tear up.

Edward twirls a strand of hair around his finger, pulling you closer to his chest. His fingers reach up and he begins combing them through your hair properly, whispering sweet praise to you as you find yourself dozing off.

[puzzlekinq]

pls write anything for edward ily

using this as an excuse to post horny eddie headcanons >:3 (i love you too!!)

edward nashton x gn reader nsfw headcanons

amab reader inclusive !!

cw: pegging, power dynamics, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, jealousy, possessive behavior.

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♡ okay first off. its 3 inches soft, 5 inches hard, pink tip, very thick. stretches you out very nicely.

♡ frequently jerks off. (insert paul dano chronic masturbater image) he has to beat his meat at least a couple times a day. plus i think he'd wake up with morning wood constantly. he has to crank one out as quick as he can if he doesnt want to be late for work, or else hes going in public with a hard on. (he's done it before and it was agony. its your fault he was hard. what have you done)

♡ he would never tell a single soul what kind of porn he watches. but i will, because im the one writing this post

♡ hes embarrassed about how much he enjoys the idea of you pegging him if ya dont have the necessary bits. the first video he watched of someone absolutely railing a guys ass, he got so painfully hard in an instant. ended up not being able to keep himself quiet as he furiously stroked his throbbing dick while he clamped his hand over his mouth for some sort of noise control.

♡ the first time he tried to fuck his own ass was a challenge. yes, his fingers sufficed, they were long enough to reach the right spot, but he didnt know lube was necessary (inexperienced virgin moment) so he just stuck them in dry, and that along with the pain of stretching himself open made for an unpleasant insertion. but he eventually got the hang of it and shot a massive load all over his stomach in like three minutes.

♡ huge praise kink. i'd say he has more of a thing for being praised than degraded, although he likes both. nobody has said a kind word to him in his life, rarely even a simple "thank you". he needs you to tell him hes good, that hes doing so well taking your strap, devouring your cunt, sucking your cock- anything. he just wants to hear that hes doing a good job, and that someone thinks positively of him for once, in a non-sexual context as well.

♡ but he also enjoys when youre a little mean to him in the bedroom, of course. he fucking loves being manhandled, choked, slapped, spit on, or having his dick or ass used just for your pleasure.

♡ LOVES EATING PUSSY!!!! the taste, the smell, the slick and cum all over his face while he grinds against the mattress, getting off to your moans- its all so incredibly hot to him. he'll literally beg to eat you out.

♡ loves sucking dick too!!! he loves taking your cock as far down his throat as he can, usually ending up gagging on it, but hes trying his best. and you know, practice makes perfect, and god, does he love practicing on you. your groans as you push his head down further onto your dick is enough to make him cream his pants. loves when you cum all over his face!!!! he prefers tasting you though.

♡ will cum too fast if he doesnt control himself, and thats why he'll edge himself for as long as you need. the overstimulation from edging feels so fucking good to him, so he really doesnt mind at all if chasing your orgasm takes a while. he gets so drunk off fucking you, he could spend the entire day rutting into your slick warmth.

♡ he can simulate that fantasy by letting you cockwarm him all night, or while hes doing paperwork, or just when youre cuddling on the couch. he cant get enough of being inside of you, he always wants more.

♡ sometimes he'll have to pull out of you and squeeze the base of his cock while he takes slow breaths to stop himself from cumming, his bottom lip crushed painfully between his teeth as sweat drips from his forehead, eyes squeezed shut while he lets out several high pitched whimpers at every exhale. its a pretty sight.

♡ hes veryyy vocal. even if he tried to be quiet he cannot shut up to save his life. has to at least whisper frantic, slurred praises into your ear about how good you feel, how beautiful/handsome/amazing you are, and how you take his cock so well like your holes were made to fit him inside of you, like a puzzle piece- his way of putting it into words.

♡ you were the missing piece in his life for so long, being inside of you is the closest he'll ever get to becoming one with a devine being such as you. he truly does worship you.

♡ hes even louder when hes close, rambling about how bad he wants to fill your tight little hole with his cum, and how good you feel milking his cock.

♡ he loves to edge you as much as he does to himself. your desperate pleads and whines for release, the release that is in his power to take away from you, gives him a blissful feeling of control. he'll make you beg for him to keep fucking you with his fingers, stroking your dick- whatever it would be, he wants to hear you cry for him. he thinks youre so lovely when you cry.

♡ he can be mean about it too. sometimes he'll listen and keep pleasuring you, but goes agonizingly slow, just to hear you beg for it harder, faster, just to make your pretty eyes gloss over with tears. he'll just giggle at you looking so pathetic under him, the knowledge of the state you're in being because of what hes doing to you gets him so excited.

♡ wipes away your tears with his thumb while mockingly cooing about how he knows it hurts, but youre just not asking nice enough.

♡ it honestly just gives him a major power trip. he's like this more often when he's in his riddler getup. you know, the thing about being his true self under the mask, no shame, no limits, blah blah.

♡ not to say he cant be submissive when hes the riddler. because you can totally make him drop the scary, dominant act in like 2 seconds. hes not as tough as he feels in the costume.

♡ but if you let him indulge in his heightened ego he'll make sure you cant even stand up for a couple hours. he got too sillygoofy (wrecked ur guts with his dick) sorry

♡ he's so easy to turn on. it's he really just you being you that gets him so worked up. woke up to your sleepy, angelic self cuddled up next to him? horny. you gave him a hug that lingered for too long? horny. youre wearing his jacket that looks adorably big on you? MEGA HORNY.

♡ he just likes when you wear his clothes in general. he'll take any opportunity he can to offer you his clothes. he thinks you look really cute and hot in them and it gets him all flustered.

♡ he cant pick between chest, ass, or thighs. all of them are so good to him. his head between your thighs, or shoved in your chest with his tongue lapping at your nipples, or having his palm full of the plush flesh of your ass while he fucks you from behind- its all so heavenly to him.

♡ hes a tummy guy too. if you have a chubbier tummy he'll go SO nuts over it. he needs to squeeze your love handles or he'll die. he loves tummy rolls too!! he is GOING to drool over your body no matter what size or shape you are.

♡ speaking of your tummy, he likes having his hand on your stomach while he fucks you. its like a reminder of how deep inside of you he is. he loves having you full of him.

♡ loves the idea of breeding you and getting you pregnant, but if you cant, having you full of his cum is still his way of reassuring himself that you belong to him.

♡ hes very possessive when it comes to you. youre the one good thing hes ever had, and hes not letting you go. ever. and he lets you know that with the way he repeats the word "mine" like a mantra against your love bite covered neck.

♡ he gets extremely jealous easily, and the best way to make him feel better is to let him bury himself inside of you and mark up your body to alleviate his insecurities. he'll leave bruises and hickeys in very noticeable spots, and be like "oops, sorry 🥺" but hes absolutely not. he did it on purpose as his way of telling all of gotham "fuck you, theyre mine."

—

oki doki im gonna stop there or this post is gonna be way too long . i have lots of Thoughts about this guy bfgdudhdh i hope this is like. good. or decent

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐄𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐍𝐲𝐠𝐦𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐎𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: something for your m.i.n.d— superorganism

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• Everyone's seen how he acted around Kristen before you started frequenting the GCPD

• To most of the precinct, Edward's a fidgety, overzealous guy, with a smile border lining on creepy. He's not the best at socializing, and his lack of understanding boundaries leave him with nearly zero friends

• So when you showed up with that sharp gaze of yours, at least attempting to supply him with the answer to one of his riddles, he knew he had to have you

• As a friend, of course. What else could he possibly mean by that.

• Whether you work at the precinct with him, or just happen to show up there more than considered normal, Ed can't help but hault his day just to talk to you. And he always opens with a riddle. One that he cooked up laying in his bed at night especially for you

• "My life is measured in hours and I serve you by expiring. I'm quick when I'm thin and slow when I'm fat. The wind is my enemy. What am I?" He smiles at you over the rim of his glasses, wringing his hands expectantly

• "Hey to you too, Nygma." You don't even have to look up to know that he's smiling

• "Please. Call me Ed. Do you give up?"

• "As if. Hit me with it again, would you?"

• I'm begging you. Do some kintec type puzzles with him. You will literally win his love and affection on the spot. Even if it's just a mini rubic's cube attached to a key ring; Ed is absolutely enamored with you the moment you pull it out

• It takes him a while to fully realize that he has developed sort of a thing for you. It most likely takes the help of his alter ego to flip the switch in his brain once and for all; something he doesn't appreciate. Especially considering the lack of filter he has when it comes to Ed's romance life

• After all a few months ago, the only one he had eyes for made fun of him in her spare time. Now that he has someone who genuinely wants to know about his day? It's all over for the poor guy

• If Ed ever finds out that you talk about him to other people—in a positive light, of course—he wont stop smiling for days. It gets to a point where even Jim notices and shakes his head, glad to see that forensics scientist is looking happy

• Leaves more than just verbal riddles for you to solve. That odd shaped box that you don't remember putting in your bag? That slip of paper written in a coded message? Edwards by your side the next time you show up, asking if you were able to solve it

• Lee probably knows about his crush on this mysterious figure. She can't help but notice that Edward's a little happier than he should be while digging through a dead guys sternum for a bullet

• Definitely unleashes a soft interrogation on him, only stopping once his ears are a flaming red and he cant look her in the eyes

• When she finally meets you for the first time, she can't help but smile at you knowingly while Ed sweats bullets in the background

• "So you're Nygma's friend huh? He talks about you a lot."

• "Ed?" You draw his name out and raise an eyebrow slowly, leaning to the left to peer over Lee's shoulder quizzically

• "I've suddenly recalled, uh, a uhm, experiment that I uh. Yeah. Bye."

• "Sigh. And he didn't even give me a riddle this time."

• "Oh you two really are just perfect."

• "I have no idea what your talking about."

[danosrosegarden]

hold tight - edward nashton x fem!reader headcanons (NSFW) ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{kinktober: day one. prompt: breeding. 🎃}

{contains: some obsessive yet shy edward, mentions of pregnancy, creampie, and very mild descriptions of overstim.}

☽ You suppose you should've seen it coming. Edward didn't fuck you, he made love to you. And he usually made love with a good dash of submissive obedience, a slight streak of bashfulness. His hands would roam your body with a soft and quiet kind of adoration, a gentle appreciation. He was so sweet to you, holding your hips like you were a glass ornament. Shattering your fragile frame would hurt him, too. He could not afford to have blood on his hands when it came to your comfort and satisfaction.

☽ He was different tonight...it was as if a switch had been flipped. He would never want to hurt you, but he hardly registered the way his fingers dug into your skin with a greedy hunger as he thrusted into you. He panted hard and deep as your hands gripped the sheets beneath you and your jaw fell open.

☽ "Eddie, Ed...wait."

☽ Your rushed words pierced their talons into his stomach. He felt sick to his lurching guts. What did he do wrong? He always has to go and fuck up everything good, doesn't he?

☽ But you're grinning as you catch your breath. He watches your bare chest tremble, rise, and fall. "Jesus, Eddie, where did this come from?"

☽ His cheeks are lit aflame as he fumbles for an answer. "Just...just wanna be inside you." You chuckle. "Hmm, yeah? Tell me about it."

☽ The coils of his brain are short-circuiting, the wires of his mind smoking and shooting sparks. How's he supposed to express how deeply he wants to be a part of you? How is he supposed to convey his darkest, most carnivorous desire without scaring you off?

☽ "I...I'll try," he mumbles, his hips starting up their quivering movement once again. "I d-don't wanna frighten you."

☽ Eddie whines as your legs wrap around his waist and pull him even closer. "You can't frighten me, honey. C'mon, tell me what you want."

☽ His thrusts are sloppy and jittery as his long fingers find their way to your lower stomach. They brush against your smooth, fluttering skin. "I...hmm, fuck...I think about it sometimes."

☽ He's too flustered to say it without the shroud of vagueness clouding his words, but it's clear what he means. "Oh, yeah?" you tease. "You wanna fill me up, Ed? Wanna get me pregnant?"

☽ Clearly, he was not anticipating your candor, because now he's gripping your hips like you'll disintegrate into dust if he lets go. You have to understand where he's coming from, though! He's never met someone who has put that level of affection and credence into him! For somebody to want to carry his baby...even if it's just pretend for now...him, of all people! He can't help but ravage your innards with reckless abandon. Just a bit.

☽ He can feel the steady heat rising in his gut. It's utterly humiliating how quickly he's close just from hearing your whiny cries to please, fuck, fill me up, I want it so bad, I need it, Eddie, I need it!

☽ And oh my, does it feel blissfully divine when the heat finally bursts. It's like he's floating. He can feel your quivering pussy gripping him tight. He grits his teeth through the shooting pinpricks of his overstimulation and fucks his cum deeper. The sticky, sodden sounds are delectably obscene. His face is burnt a feverish scarlet as he pulls out of you and watches his cum leak. It's such an alluring sight, the milky liquid dripping from your already soaked cunt. It takes all the power within to stop himself from diving down and tasting you right then. He wouldn't want to overwhelm you.

☽ Again, even if it's just make believe, a filthy fantasy you two indulge in...it's the thought behind the action that counts, the message behind your pleading for him to fill you up, make you full, that makes him want to grab hold of you and never let go. <3

[abrcmswrld]

NSFW Alphabet | TFE!Edward Nashton x Reader

Word Count: 1,979

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI), seriously this whole thing is smut and that’s it, AFAB terms used

Summary: A collection of drabbles centered around sex with my version of Edward Nashton from my fic series: The French Exit.

Author’s Note: This is dedicated to the discord server. I’ve loved getting to know their Eddie’s. Thank you for giving my Eddie a chance.

HBD Pookie<3

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

He's tender and clingy, keeping his arms wrapped around you for as long as he possibly can until you finally nudge him off to clean up. After that he's helpful, he loves taking the time to wipe you down. He'll take any excuse to touch your body, really.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

He's never given it much thought for himself. He's always thought himself to be below average in most categories. Whether it's looks or strength, he's always felt himself fall short. But he can recognize that he excels in brains. He is quite proud of the mind he has.

When it comes to you however, he can't find a part that he doesn't like, but the feeling of your thighs is absolute heaven to him. He loves to sink his fingertips into the soft flesh as he laps his tongue over you or as he fucks into you slowly. He also loves to rest his head on them and feel your fingers trailing through his hair.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a disgusting person)

He will cum anywhere you ask. By the time he reaches his climax, he’s putty in your hands. Any dominance he may have held is gone as his legs shake. You want him to cum on your stomach, back, face, inside you? He’ll do it. But if he’s being honest he prefers to finish inside of you. The sticky slickness as he continues to rut into you even after finishing is the perfect overstimulation.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's very voyeuristic. To an alarming extent. The view from your window is just perfect. He can feel the pressure in his pants the moment you begin to undress after a long day at the office. Of course, you know exactly what he's doing and you secretly get off on it too.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

He has very little experience. Aside from a pity handjob in his early 20's, he's avoided most sexual interaction. He doesn't find it easy to go on dates. He has a decent idea of how things work as he has watched plenty of porn in his lifetime, but I wouldn't call him experienced.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

His weak spot is missionary. He loves to hover over you with you caged in him arms. He enjoys taking it one step further and lifting your leg to his shoulder. It gives him the same pleasure of seeing your face with an added bit of pressure that gets both you and him to the edge faster than any other position.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

You’re the one person he can let a chuckle out with. He tries to embrace that side of himself in closed off spaces with just the two of you, such as the break room. But for some reason he can’t make it translate into the bedroom. He’s never been so intimate with someone before, it’s very serious to him. He’s too focused on the ecstasy of the moment and the feelings he has for you pouring out to goof off at all.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He keeps himself trimmed decently. He tried to shave completely once, but ended up giving himself awful razor burn and cuts. He’s not been a fan since.

He doesn’t have a preference for his partner. He loves for them feel confident however they choose.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

As previously said, he’s never experienced such intimacy with anyone before. Never had someone touch him with such tenderness, like they want to heal all of his wounds, internal and external. He often finds himself crying during the act. It’s not a sadness response and it’s something he’s found he can’t quite control. He just wants you to know how much he loves you in that moment. He wants to be as close as two souls can possibly be.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He’s masturbates decently often. More often after developing a crush on you. Less often when the tension breaks between the two of you. He’d much rather feel your hand, mouth, heat, than his own hand.

Before you, his relationship with masturbation wasn’t great. Years of catholic guilt can do that to a person. He often fights the feeling of shame after his release. He struggles to enjoy the feeling of bliss while coming down. Watching you pleasure yourself for him, and the way you whimper and smile through it intrigues him, and he strives to be able to enjoy himself in a similar fashion.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Voyeurism: This is his big one. It’s questionable at times. He knows it’s sick, the way he watches you through your window, but he can’t help himself. It’s as if you left the curtain open as an invitation.

Even as your relationship progresses, he finds himself asking you if he can watch as you pleasure yourself. He loves to observe. He loves to take note of the things that make you whimper.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers the comfort of your home. It’s warm and safe and comfortable. Nothing else to bother the two of you. Although he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about bending you over his desk at the office. He finds himself getting hard in his pants as he thinks about it, looking over his shoulder at your concentrated face as you sit at your own desk. He pushes the thought away for his own good.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He’s ashamed to say that everything you do turns him on. He hides it out of fear of offending you or making you believe he only likes the sex, but it’s the little things that get him going. The way you bite your lip while you concentrate on work, the way you laugh at his jokes, the brush of your legs up against him, it all turns him on.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

He’s not big on any form of weapon play. The idea using a weapon (even in a safe and monitored way) on you makes his stomach turn rather than turn him on. He doesn’t like to mix that side of him with your intimacy.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He definitely prefers to give rather than receive. Not that he doesn’t enjoy receiving, but he gets just as much pleasure from eating you out. He loves to bury his head between your thighs and rut against the mattress. Pull him in by his hair and he will cum in his pants.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

His pace depends on the mood he is in. Sometimes he enjoys a loving, slow pace. It allows him to slowly take you apart, piece by piece. But sometimes he loves to drive into you fast and rough. The sound of his skin slapping against yours spurs him on. He loves the way your eyes roll back as he abuses that spot inside you.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Shockingly enough, Edward enjoys quickies. He likes to think of it as a miniature version of what you always do. If you’re pressed for time, if the two of you have work, he loves to get in one last fuck. He loves to cum inside of you and watch you leave for work right after.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

His entire life is a risk. The Riddler is a risk. He’d rather not bring you into that risk. He’s seen the way that porn frames scenarios of risky public sex to look enticing, but he just can’t bring himself to enjoy it with you. He’d never put you in a risky position on purpose. You’re the one pure thing in his life.

However, he is willing to experiment with kinks inside the comfort of your own home. He’s supportive when you ask and always tries his best to feed into your fantasies, even if it doesn’t always stick for you guys.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

His stamina is dependent on his mood at the moment. If you have him extremely riled up, he is ready to go multiple rounds with little to no recovery period. However, sometimes he loves a good lazy fuck and to just cuddle up to you afterwards in a hazy, tired bliss.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’d never owned toys before you. He’d thought about it, but never gotten the courage to try them for himself. He knows you own many though and he enjoys using them with you. His favorite is pressing your vibrator to your sensitive bud as he fucks you deep. He loves the way it makes you squirm under him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease and be teased. Although he does find it difficult to tease you for very long. He loves to hear you beg for him and the moment a soft ‘please’ escapes your lips he gives you everything you need.

He loves when you are unfair to him. He loves the playful look in your eyes as you gives him teasing kisses and licks all over his body.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He tries but is generally unsuccessful at holding in his cries and moans. They often come out as a choked off and whiney mess. He loves to hear your sweet noises. He nibbles at your weak spots until you cry out his name. It makes him smile into your flesh.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He loves to see you wear his clothes. He has to hide the erection growing in his pants when he does something as small as giving you his jacket to wear when you’re cold. It’s such a small action but the way his clothes practically swallow you makes his heart race.

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

Watching porn all those years hasn’t helped his self esteem. He finds himself feeling insecure about his size a lot. He’s about average length, but is decently thick. He loves it when you let him know how much he stretches you, and the way you clench around him as he drives into you. It’s the only thing that can ease his insecurities.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He is ready to go pretty much whenever. All it takes is the slightest touch of your hands down his chest and sides and those longing kisses, and he is ready. He finds that his sex drive is much higher since becoming intimate with you. It’s a new experience and he finds himself craving you often.

Z = ZZZ (... how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He has gone most of his life struggling with sleep. The orphanage had given him horrific night terrors and his sleep schedule has never been normal. But, after sex with you he feels a calm wash over him that he can't explain. For once he is peaceful and finds himself drifting to sleep rather quickly.

[ghostdoodlen]

Doin tiny Edward doodles is fun.

[goodboyriddler]

Keep Looking Up

He's utterly obsessed with you. Your face, your smile, your smell. He'll do anything, beg for you, take that fight for you.

You didn't even have to tell him to get on his knees. Is he a good boy for that?

warnings: 18+, very sub! Edward, gentle fdom! reader, mommy kink, pegging (+oral), stalking, implied physical assault (Ed), praise kink, shoe licking, handjob, nipple sucking, degradation, multiple orgasms, Edward is taken cared off like the good boy he is

Request inspired by this nsfw Paul Dano audio.

word count: 5.5k

He tries to quicken his pace, control his erratic breathing, while his eyes are firmly ahead, following you.

His hands are shaking, clenching and unclenching it into fists. He's careful to hide when you look back, a shaky exhalation, not to step too close, to spy until you resume your walk down the empty street, aside from the two of you. The night sky is dark enough to hide him, and it looks like it's going to be raining soon. It doesn't matter, it will soon be over.

Edward can't help it, he always gets like this when he's this near you.

He traces the paper that's inside his jacket pocket with his finger to calm down. You, you, you. His mind rings and he melts at the thought, he has to bite his tongue, breathe out, close his eyes. Everything it's perfect, how you look from behind, the sound of your heels clicking on the pavement, how you nervously look behind you. Why? He's here to protect you, you have nothing to fear from strangers. He's always watching, like this, loves seeing you from afar-

Wait.

You're suddenly turning the other way. 

Your apartment is not in that direction, he knows the route you both take every night. What are you doing? Where are you- He hurries up his pace trying to catch up while he sees you disappear around a corner and he is starting to panic. Has someone taken you? No, no, not you. He looks around before turning to the street you've gone into, starting to shake.

He finds himself facing an alley. 

Dead end.

The man is being pushed by the shirt into the wall with a loud thud. You hear the air in his lungs leave at the impact with a small whimper.

"Why are you following me?!" You tightly fist the front of the man's shirt as you shake him, demanding him to answer. 

You're breathing harshly, adrenaline pouring in. Rage and frustration mitigating the fear to confront him. 

You finally had enough.

He's blinking rapidly, trying to get his vision to focus again. Focus, he takes a breath, shakes his head trying to clear his thoughts, the pain, what is happening, you're here in front-

You.

It's you. In front of him. 

He silently keens. Oh god it's you, touching him. Get closer, please closer, so he can breathe the same air as you. It takes him all his will not to whine at the feeling of your rough touch in his clothes. He thinks he can almost smell your favorite perfume- the one with the pretty colored bottle you keep in your table. He's never had you up this close and he stares, drinking it all in, trying to memorize it for later. No, photos definitely can't compare to you. 

That soft face, that oversized rain jacket. Those clear glasses and light brown hair.

You take a step back, confusion starting to replace the anger. It doesn't make any sense who you're looking at.

"Wait, it's you?"

He's always on the same train as you when you come back from work, looking down, reading a pocket book, a newspaper, a ledger. Making his glasses slide off. Cherubic face, reddened cheeks covered by light brown hair. The shy glances, the shaky smiles he gave and you turn back with a grin. Once he had taken a phone call, and his voice, oh, his voice was surprisingly gentle and clear. And what if you had remembered him once or twice as that shy cute nerdy guy from the train on your way back home? What if you loved to take the train now in hopes to catch a small glimpse of that stranger?

"You're the one who's been following me?" And you can't help the disappointed tone in your voice, almost betrayed. "What do you want? Who the fuck are you?" 

"E-edward, my name's Edward." He sounds like it takes him a great deal to speak, but can't deny your request. The sky rumbles above you with thunder, in a warning.

You don't know he'll never deny anything you ask.

He breathes, exhales. He can't deny you anything, what do you want, he'll tell you everything. And what does he want? He gazes off to the dirty alley concrete floor. Avoiding your gaze. He has never had this much attention on him, it makes him blush, especially when it's coming from you. You notice him. He thinks he will finish in his pants if you keep looking at him.

"I-I wanted you to be safe." And it's the truth. He wants you to be there for you to look from afar. His lips are trembling slightly as if upset with the thought of you not. "I heard what some people were saying about you and-"

He's talking about the accident a few days prior. 

A group of people being loud when you were walking in the street after getting off the train kept following you a little too closely, a little too interested. You were about to make a run for it before there had been a commotion. 

You had turned around and seen another man being surrounded by them and although you couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, the tone was mocking, laughing at the man with transparent glasses and brown hair. Shoving him around while he just stayed quiet, and you thought- he had looked at you and gently smiled.

That same man is in front of you.

"You-" You take a step back, allowing him to move from your grasp. You think it has the opposite effect, he seems to be unhappy at the loss of your touch. "Those guys the other night, where you…?"

Edward sheepishly looks down at his feet shifting nervously like he hadn't risked himself for a totally stranger. Why? It is unheard in Gotham, no one's this good of heart, except if they want something. But the man in front of you doesn't like to seek confirmation, let alone seek anything. He seemed to just want to help a stranger.

Edward looks embarrassed by his doing, as if he didn't want to be noticed, but he still shyly nods at your question.

Your eyes start to adjust to the darkness of the alley, and that's when you finally notice the fresh bruises marking up his face.

Oh, no.

And then it's starting to rain, small raindrops are falling, staining his face, darkening the light hair but neither of you dare to speak. He keeps looking at you, and you finally notice his widen eyes are green.

"Follow me."

You start to make the correct way to your place, leaving him behind, not daring to look back. After a moment you hear footsteps on the wet concrete behind you just like before.

You take your soaked up clothes when you enter your apartment and Edward stands awkwardly until does the same with his rain jacket, making sure to get the paper out of it and hold it in one hand to keep himself calmed. Why is he here? The back of the head hurts from where you slammed him to the wall. He smiles at the memory.

He's hunched over on your couch while he watches you. Sit on the couch, you had said and he tried not to rush to it and sat at your order.

"Did they do that to you?" You finally speak, and point with your head to his face, hands on your hips. You need to be sure. "When you were-" 

He gives you a shy nod, eyes still down to the floor. 

It took everything not to kill those men. He wasn't sure in what way you wanted him to do it, after all. The rage, the blood, the satisfaction he felt when he saw you run away, safe. He feels ashamed you think him weak, it wouldn't be the first time someone has, but they were too much of them to handle alone.

You finally sit on the couch beside him, too close, and he turns to you, swallowing.

"Can I…?" You extend a hand to his face, it stays in the air.

"Y-Yes."

Your hands slowly go to touch his skin, and he flinches, before you reassure it's okay. When your fingers go to cradle his chin, he sighs. Your touch, yes, it's so gentle. Your fingers go to carefully move him, so you can see the damage down his jaw. And he holds his breath as he watches your mouth.

The bruises are already blooming, purple and black, down his soft jaw and neck. A small cut on his lip. They're small, barely there by now. But in his pale skin and boyish round face it contrasts almost obscenely. 

You think he looks so pretty like this.

"Oh, poor baby…" You mumble at his desecrated skin. He looks so delicate, so vulnerable, wet hair by the rain plastered on his forehead as those big green eyes are looking up at you. Lost.

You want to kiss it better, while those cherubic cheeks are between your hands. 

Your attention shifts to the crinkling sound of paper and your gaze falls into Edward's hand. He's holding what seems to be an envelope on his fist. 

You grab the letter before he can hide it again, and find it's a card, beautiful, and when you trace your fingers through it Edward sharply inhales.

When you open it you see the old-fashioned illustration of a smiling man with rounded glasses and bowtie on a button up. He's surrounded by hearts, and holds an oversized puzzle piece on his arms with the caption:

                                                You complete me!

"I-I-" He stutters, and his cheeks are burning.

He tries to avoid your gaze, shifting on the couch, wishing he could disappear. 

"Were you going to give this to me?" You can't help the teasing tone at the childish scene. A blushing schoolboy. It's adorable, it's shy.

You wonder if he had questioned bringing you roses alongside the card. They would have complimented the redness of his cheeks. 

Edward gives a small nod.

"That card is very pretty, did you make it all for me?" You say and Edward nods enthusiastically, your hands still on his face. Yes he did, and you like it, he thinks he's going to sob. "Why are you really here?"

You know. You know what he wants, and he twitches and blushes for that itch of your touch. The desire burning in his veins, the card, the need for you to be safe. You run your thumb up and down his lips. You knew he wanted something and it's the same as yours. It's obvious how much he wants you, and you can't help to make him admit it.

"I w-want-" Edward finally chokes out words when you give his thigh a squeeze. Your hand stays there.

"Yes?"

"I w-want to kiss you."

You hum, giving him a smile, the thumb caressing the corner of his mouth replaces it with your lips.

One hand cradles his chin while you gently dip him back, moving him closer. He can feel your hands in his face, you sucking his tongue and he is going limp in your arms. You can tell no one has kissed him like this before.

Your mouth descends from his lips down his jaw, his throat, licking and teasing with a graze of teeth. He's in heaven, being touched for the first time like this. By you. He shifts closer until he's straddling your lap and he whines against your mouth when your hands hold him by his thighs. You go down his Adam's apple, beautiful as he swallows and gives those low little moans, until you go bite on his neck. 

He thinks you're marking him up because you love him that much to tell everyone he's yours, show it in the form of teeth-shaped bruises. Every mark on his body will now be linked to you. Of what he can do to protect you and how you reward him afterwards.

"You've been so good for me." Your fingers run over the back of his neck when you finally pull away. "Protecting me back there."

Edward breathes out of his mouth, throat desperately moving and his own hands twitch. He's so responsive, whiny, needy. His head is down, trying to avoid your gaze and his face falls into your shoulder, don't look at him while he's this desperate for you, that soft pink tints his cheeks. 

"Is kissing all that you want to do, Eddie?"

He shakes his head against your shoulder embarrassed. He's never been asked what he wants and it's overwhelming. He wants you, of course, that's all he needs. Your hands move to stroke his back and his sides. What a great opportunity has been presented to you. He's in your lap for you to play with, your little pretty boy to hold in your arms and toy with just to see how he blushes for you.

"Let me take care of you instead, Edward." You lean in his ear and whisper almost sweetly. Your fingers thread his light brown hair as you kiss his temple. "Would you let me take care of you?"

He chokes up a sob at the words, his throat moving desperately trying to swallow, breathe, trying to remember how to speak coherent words that aren't pants and moans.

"Y-Yes, please." He sobs, nodding as he grabs your shirt. He's trembling and when you go kiss him again and he moans at your mercy. 

"Please, what baby?"

Edward doesn't look at you, and his cheeks flush in shame.

"P-please mommy. I'll be your good boy."

Your nails trace his throat, his breath stopping, before you finally open his shirt revealing pale skin. All for you to mark. He shivers as you dip your fingers across his chest. Please mark him, he needs to see the teeth marks in his skin in the morning to know this was real. 

A finger grazes a pink nipple and his breath hitches before his head falls in the crook of your neck, glasses going askew, in a silent plea.

"What do you need, pretty boy?" You go pat him on the head, and he sinks lower in your neck. He shivers harder when you start tracing your nails in his scalp. You pet him sweetly, he's so cute starting to thrust his hips in the air searching for your touch.

You run your nails up his thighs just to see him shake, and you laugh at how he tries to close them. You love when they squirm.

"P-please," He swallows, his erratic breathing hits your skin as he speaks desperately. "Please t-touch me."

"Where? You need to tell me so I know where." Your hand grazes his already hard nipples, grinning when he flinches when your nails trace there. You're grinning knowing you're going to make him say it.

Before he can answer your fingers run down his soft pudgy stomach, feeling how it moves as his breath hitches. Down his happy trail, teasing his belt there.

"Here?" 

Your palm presses harder into his bulge, and he whines as a whole body shudder passes him. You bring your other than to move his head so he's facing you.

You kiss his neck, your hands are undoing his belt, and he closes his eyes at the sound. You unbutton his pants, and his zipper. He waits for your hand, but it doesn't go inside.

Not yet. You want him to be begging for it 

 "-or here?" You're tracing the outline of his hard cock, stroking him through his pants. His teeth sink on his hand to keep quiet, he's breathing hard through his nose.

Everywhere. Everywhere he needs you outside, inside. Your lips, your fingers. He needs you please, he needs your fist around his cock so he can fuck it. Licking it clean afterwards for making such a mess.

"There! There." He's been so hard ever since he saw you leave your work and followed you. It hurts. The front of his pants are already spotting a wet spot. 

You can't help but laugh, and your hand finally goes down inside his pants, he jerks at the action. He isn't stopping as you grab him by his length and start to stroke him.

He's so responsive in your lap, squirming, needy despite not knowing what he wants. Touch more please, your mouth, your hands, just keep touching, please. What you will give him will be the best for him, he realizes, you know what better than him after all. He'll be good to accept it with a wide eyes and open mouth. 

He moves his head from your shoulder to your chest, breathing there and he lets his tongue run into the fabric of your shirt. He needs you. You tease the head with your fingers and he moans, his hands going to grab your breasts and you stroke his hair.

Mhm, so that's what he wants. Who you're to deny him? Of course you're going to take care of your good boy.

Wordlessly you pull off for a moment, Edward's face furrowing in confusion before he sees you working your shirt off, and then unbuckling your bra. 

He doesn't have time to process it because a hand goes to the back of his neck to guide him to you. And he opens his willing mouth, tongue out as it laches into your nipple.

God, yes. He whimpers against the flesh when he finally has you in his mouth, and you can't deny his hot wet tongue is divine. His hands knead your breast into his lips. The way his tongue works around your nipple while those fingers pinch the other. 

Edward whines a litany of thank you's while his mouth is full. Thank you for allowing him this, he promises he won't waste your gratitude. He'll savor you in his mouth while you stroke his cock until he's cumming like a good little boy just for you.

He needs to worship you while you tell him how good he is. Will you please tell him how good he is? 

Edward closes his eyes, savoring the weight of your breasts falling softly into his face and his glasses fog up. You fasten your pace in his cock while murmuring that's it baby suck on them, aren't you mommy's good boy? Your hand gripping his neck hardens, pulling him harder into you, and he whimpers. He's in ecstasy, he's so close while your pretty hands stroke him.

You think he's so beautiful like this.

"If you don't stop- think I'm going to- please, please-" He tries to warn you, shaking his head. Not this early please, he wants all of you.

His hands go to grip your arm in his pants. He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, tight jaw pleading for it as he's on the verge.

"It's okay, you can finish in my hand."

Yes, Yes, yes. He's in bliss with him in your lap, in your arms, while laying his head on your chest. He sniffs, his eyes watering, god, it feels so good. And he's searching for that pleasure, that want with his hips, more, he's so close.

You flicker your wrist, tease the leaking head with your thumb and he's cumming. Throwing his head back and whole body quivering on your lap, hips sloppily fucking your fist as he rides out his orgasm until he goes limp.

You smile while humming, letting go of his cock and clean your cum-stained hand on his already ruined pants. You're embracing him and stroking his back on the aftershocks.

"I didn't mean to- so early-" He says when he manages to catch his breath. His skin is burning with satisfaction and ecstasy, you said it was okay but he still wants to apologize.

You cradle his face before kissing him softly, shushing his words with your mouth. You feel him relax on the touch.

"It's okay. You can always cum again." And again, until he's milked dry. Until you're satisfied and he's pleading for you that is too much.

"Can you-" His entire body feels light, and he moves his mouth silently before he hears himself talking again. "C-could you fuck me?" 

His cheeks burn as he asks you. 

You just know what he's referring to. Oh, of course. You can't help the little grin on your lips, the eyebrow raising. 

"Have you done it before?" 

He looks away from your gaze, his spent cock gives a weak twitch at the implication.

"Only alone."

"I told you, I would take care of you, we'll do what you want. Of course."

You stroke his cheek with the back of your fingers and that's something he can recognize, he leans his face against them, sighing in relief.

You help him stand up from the couch, discarding his clothes on the way, kissing him softly as he still is light from his orgasm. He clings to your body like he needs you to touch you all times. And you let him sloppily kiss you until you're pushing him on the mattress,and telling you'll be back in just a moment.

He watches you leave, but can hear noises from the other room and he tries to calm down his breathing. He needs to make you proud. Yes, he needs to show you how good he can beg, his appreciation and devotion for you as a thank you for this. He gets in position just as he hears you come back into the bedroom.

You find him waiting for you. 

Kneeling on the floor.

He is crawling towards you, until he stops in front of you, a breath, two as you look down at him. Then Edward is moving, shaking hands towards you. His face starts to rub in your lap, your thighs. You're now naked and the sight makes him look up with big green eyes, his neck hurting by the effort. He needs to make himself worth it, he needs to beg for you and he smiles against your skin.

Edward's hands are gripping your thighs as he leans in there, placing kisses, licking all over your skin in reverence. He descends until his lips are kissing your heels, he cradles them in one hand while looking up. The sight makes you hum in satisfaction, and you're telling him, go on. His tongue is trying to lick your shoes clean and he closes his eyes and moans as he sucks the tip of it. 

How lucky he is to be touching you like this. His lips tremble as he inhales. For you to allow his lips to press into your skin. His glasses fog up but it doesn't matter, he doesn't need to do anything more than be on his knees for you.

Your hands go to his hair. You pet him, nails digging to his scalp and he follows your touch, smiling up to you. There are tears in his eyes, he keens, he feels bliss on his skin. Yes, yes, you think he's good. The side of his face rests in one of your thighs while he closes his eyes feeling your fingers thread his hair.

"P-please-" He whines so broken and desperate in the air. "P-please, Please, can  I suck you off? I need, a-ah, I need-"

He swallows, his mouth open, waiting for your words.

"Are you going to be a good boy?"

"Y-yes." Edward's moving his head up and down. You might think another time it would be a nod but he's just too desperate to even do that properly. "I'll be good for you."

"Then go on." And your hand in the back of his neck is guiding him into your strap, and he is opening his mouth, tongue out.

He moans when it finally moves past his lips. Feels it stretching in his mouth. Slobbering it, as he starts to move his head deeper, deeper. More, more. Yes. He's choking, and you hear him gag and your hand resumes to pet him. He whines as you play with his hair, and he's rubbing himself into the floor. The zipper on his pants rubbing against his bulge every time he thrusts into it.

Edward opens his eyes and looks up from his clear glasses, hand gripping on his ruined blond hair moving his hair up and down the length.

And you have to admit, seeing him gagging, tears threatening to spill on his full cheeks is a good look on him.

"Oh, my pretty boy." He flutters his eyelids at your words, he wants to cry, he's humping the air, yes he is, he's choking because of you, do you like that? "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Edward pulls off immediately with a pop, saliva dripping and he swallows it back again. Before he's blabbering yes, yes, yes until he has to take a breath again not to choke.

You help him up from the floor and into your bed. You kiss him one last time, running your hands over his body while he goes on all fours, facing away from the headboard. You have an idea for later for why. 

He's shaking while he hears you grab something from the mattress, a click, your hands running over his back and he closes his eyes.

You push your weight on top of his back. Your fingers go to open him up. Your lips go to his ear and whisper relax baby, you feel so tight, is that all for me? can't wait to fuck you.

He's already loose and you can't help the amused sound that leaves your mouth and he whimpers. He thought about you while fucking himself, he only thinks about you, can only get hard when he does. Can only cum when he imagines your voice giving him permission in his head.

"P-Please, I'm ready, please just-" He pants. How he melts in your arms with just your fingers. Needy sounds at the thought of you inside him. His cock is already hard.

You pull your fingers off him and he whines at the loss but then he feels you pressing against him and he tries to relax, and you're starting to slowly push inside him and a moan rips off his throat.

"You're doing so good for me. So good, Eddie."  You kiss the side of his cheek, as your hands rub his hips and legs trying to sooth him. "Breathe for me, relax."

You're filling him. God, he fills so full. He feels full of you. His eyes are blurring from his tears, god yes, how you're stretching him, how it feels you above him. Gripping his hips as you finally bottom out and he's gripping the sheets, looking down, always looking down and you can't help but smile. He hasn't noticed what's in front of him yet.

"There you go baby, take all of me." You give him some time to adjust, and you love how he shivers. Seeing him this pleased, finally getting what he wanted, it makes you sigh in pleasure while running your hands in his back.

You kiss his back, there are freckles there. All this pale skin untouched. A gift from him for your teeth. Soft under your mouth and sinking as you bite, and you apologize for the treatment with your tongue. He's so pretty underneath you like this. His only place is beneath you.

The muscles of his back flex by the effort of grabbing the sheets as you start to fuck him, kissing everywhere, running your hands below his soft stomach. Tracing his hardened nipples, pinching, making him squirm. He's your to play, he's your to enjoy because he likes to serve you. You're rewarding him by telling him how good he is getting fucked like this for you. 

He's still looking down, panting, swallowing, and you're looking in front but he doesn't know how he looks. You want to show him. He needs to know how he looks while he's being fucked.

Your hands grip his hips tighter. You pull out. And give a strong trust that has him grabbing at the bedsheets in fists and whining open-mouthed. And he finally looks up at that, and sees the mirror in front of the bed.

"God, look at you," One of your hands goes to rake your fingers through his disheveled hair, before gripping it and forcing him to face the mirror in front of him. "Look. Fucking yourself on me like a whore. You're so beautiful."

You see him moan, embarrassed, shivering at the praise. He's only beautiful when he is this pathetic. He wants to bury his face back in the bedsheets, but you grip his hair harder.

"No baby, don't hide. I want to see your face while you take me." You kiss his shoulder, his neck. Mouth pressed against his throat, tasting the vibrations of his whines. "Aren't you ashamed of being this desperate? If you look anywhere but there, I'll stop."

The nails holding his head bury themselves in his scalp and he bites his lip trying not to sob. He feels so full.

One hand is on his shoulder, the other in his hip, pushing him towards you. And he screams. Whines, he's so fucking loud while you fuck him deep and slow, and you close your eyes to enjoy the sounds as you shiver, skin burning and prickling. 

Reflected in the mirror you see saliva dripping through the corner of his mouth. His glasses move in his nose with each one of your thrusts.

Open-mouthed and panting. Full body shivers out, goosebumps blooming. Choking on the air and when he looks up his head he looks at himself reflected in the mirror. He rocks back into you, more, faster, more, harder, he needs more. His hands fist the bedsheets and he pants while he feels the sweats drip off his face.

His arm trembles as it supports his weight, one trying to go down and stroke his cock.

You're pushing him into the mattress with a firm hand on his head. You immediately go to pin both of his arms behind his back in a tight grip. 

"Who said you could touch yourself?"

"N-no one." He shakes his face against the bedsheets. He squirms his arms under your grasp, trying to free himself. "I-I'm s-sorry, sorry. I'm just- It hurts, p-please."

His hips thrust down wanting to get some kind of friction into his cock. Anything, a graze of the bedsheets, please, anything. His arms shake behind him. He can feel himself leaking into the sheets.

Your hips change the angle, sinking your fingers into his soft hips. Something brushes inside him, and he is screaming, fucking himself harder into you.

"T-there! There, please, there-more! please." He throws his head back, still looking at the mirror, and he's starting to sob. 

Tears run down his cheeks and he can't keep himself quiet, his throat is starting to hurt from all the effort. His arms squirm around his back as his untouched cock twitches in the sheets.

"Please. C-can I cum? Please- I want- I'll do anything. I'll be good. Mommy please, please, let me cum, I want to-"

And he closes his eyes just to let a stream of moans. Sweat drips down his forehead. He is whining, sobbing please, please. He needs to finish, he needs your permission to do it-

"Cum for me, Eddie."

And he's cumming all over the sheets untouched, thrusting into the air and you can see his bruised up face, how his mouth is a perfect O reflected in the mirror. 

"Good boy." And he bites his lip as he chokes the praise, head falling into the bed sheets as his whole body shivers with aftershocks.  "There you go, you're were good for Mommy."

You haven't seen a more pretty sight.

You let your nails run down his soft abdomen and thighs just to see how he squirms. You always love how twitchy and oversensitive they get afterwards.

"You did so good for Mommy, pretty boy." 

You're pulling out of him and he sighs, finally letting himself go limp into the mattress while he watches you work the buckles off your waist. And he presses his face into the bedsheets, waiting like a dog for you to come back 

"I did?" He asks from the sheets, looking up with those teared up eyes and ruined up glasses.

"Yes. You were perfect." You kiss him softly in his cheeks, tasting the salt there from his tears with your tongue.

And he melts at your words.

Once finished you turn back to him where he still hasn't taken his eyes off you and start to clean him up with a wet towel. Taking his glasses up that pretty bruised face and putting them in the nightstand, so delicately. 

He thinks you might be his new god. 

You kiss his throat after he has drunk the water you've brought him before you're laying next to him. You, you, you. His mind rings and he sinks into the mattress at the thought, smelling your shampoo as he wraps his arms around you. You think the new bruises starting to bloom in his throat contrast divinely on his pale skin. 

[undiscovered-horizon]

AHHHH UR WRITING IS JUST CHEF KISS I CANT GET ENOUGH OF IT, ITS SOO GOOD AND UR CHARACTERIZATION OF EDDIE IS JUST AMAZING IM OBSESSED, ALSO FLUSTERED EDDIE IS EVERYTHING MAN I LOVE HOW SHY HE IS ✋😫

Now make them kiss 🔫👹

Oh God oh shit don't shoot I haven't picked up my makeup order yet. Btw sorry this is so short ??

Imagine the Riddler being your secret admirer. - Part 4

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 5]

Eddie always insisted on walking you home. At first, you didn't want to trouble him but you soon realized that the little favour meant more to him than it did to you. There was something about you being left vulnerable to Gotham's cruelty that made him jittery; his clingy, anxious nature could paint true masterpieces of horror disguised as intrusive thoughts. Besides, it was a good pretext to stretch out your date for another thirty minutes or so.

His hands were always warm and soft, which was part of the reason why you like holding them so much. The other satisfying thing was the adorable bashfulness the act of affection elicited from him. Despite his vivid shyness, once he had a hold of your hand, he was committed - not letting go until absolutely necessary.

When you arrived at your apartment building, you quietly questioned whether the distance from the coffee shop you met at was always this short. It seemed as if anytime Eddie was walking you home, the streets of Gotham became suspiciously short as if specifically trying to spite the newly found lovers.

You pushed the door to building open, even letting one of your feet step over the threshold before you stopped altogether. There was something you'd been thinking about for the entire day, barely holding the urge in and now, when his longing stare was watching you disappear into the night, you let those recurring thoughts win.

Unable to hold back a smile, you turned around to face Eddie. "Actually, I nearly forgot to give you something."

"You... have something for me?" he asked while you were walking towards him. A blush appeared on his cheeks as it usually did when you showed him any kind of interest.

"Yeah, just a small thing," you answered with a shrug. For all he knew, you meant something completely insignificant.

Before Ed had an occasion to question you further about the enigmatic, if not elusive, gift, you leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips. You could still taste the root spices from the pumpkin pie he and you ate.

Eddie froze. His mind was about as blank as it could physically get. You were kissing him and he definitely wasn't asleep. Lacking experience in that department, he tried to kiss you back as best as he could manage. He was probably going to overthink that beautiful moment when he gets back home, yelling at himself for being so awkward but at the moment no coherent thought could form in his mind: there was only you and the way your soft lips moved against his. A faint aroma of vanilla entered his nostrils - your lipstick must have been a scented one.

When you pulled away, the chill night air made his face feel unbearably cold. "Nearly forgot to give you a kiss," you whispered. Then you pecked the corner of his mouth and went inside your apartment building. The click of the front door locking shook Eddie awake.

All of this... actually... happened. He could die a happy man now.

[spookbusters]

Spit Me Out (18+)

Summary: Edward thinks of something while in the shower with you.

// Pairing: Edward Nashton x F!Reader

// Word Count: 1.9k

// Warnings: Not beta-d! Porn w/o plot, brief showering together, handjob/thighjob, oral (m!receiving), face/throatfucking, brief mention of mirrors, f!masturbation, brief dirty talk, cumplay (spitting/eating), finger sucking, implied switch!reader+eddie.

// A/N: Yay, a longer one! Thank you everyone for so much love on my first Eddie fic!! I’m super excited to be adding a few other Paul Dano characters to my writing list!! <3

// As per the warnings, note that this work is intended for those who are of age in their respective countries! MINORS DNI!!!

_____________________________<3______________________________

He didn't mean to think of it that way. Frankly, he wasn't even entirely sure where it came from. All he knew was that now he was getting lost in his thoughts of you...

"Edward, is everything ok?"

Eddie panics a bit when he realizes you had been talking to him. "Wha-, " he starts, noting the concern on your face, "I'm-... It's ok, honey. What'd you say?" "Can you pass me my body wash, please?" He nods, fishing for the bright pink bottle in the shower caddy. "Thank you."

For a moment, while you're occupied with lathering the fruity-scented wash all over your damp skin, he allows himself to revisit the mental image he had just been so enthralled by. You had been washing your hair, standing under the water to rinse out the conditioner that made your hair silken and soft- something he loves. Water had gotten in your mouth when you opened it to say something to him, and Edward had watched as you spit the water out.

Again, he had no idea where it came from, but immediately his imagination was flooded with images of you on your knees, tears running tracks down the outer edges of your eyes, as you spit his cum from your mouth. It's like a stain on his mind. No matter how hard he tries to push the thought away, unwilling to defile the gentle intimacy of being here with you, that image of you burns a hole through him and he can't stop the thought's physical effects on him.

Blood rushes to his cock, and he immediately moves to see himself out of the shower, despite your protests and the unrinsed soap bubbles sliding down his chest. "Eddie, baby, what's wrong?" You're rushing to rinse off and hop out, fishing for your towel on one of the hooks. He doesn't have enough time to both wipe off the leftover soap and get the towel around his waist, so you get an eyeful of him, long and thick and solid before he has a chance to hide.

Edward blushes, the tips of his ears turning a burning crimson, "l didn't want to bother you with... this," your heart thuds at how shy he sounds before he rushes, "l know you had a long day at work; I know you just wanted to relax tonight, I'm sorry." You smile, genuine and warm, and Eddie's knees buckle ever so slightly when he sees it. "Is this what was the matter," you coo, "Just a little embarrassed?" Your voice is gentle, teasing, and tinged with faux innocence.

It makes him throb.

"l told you, l didn't want to bother you," he replied. Watching the water droplets roll over your curves as you step towards him is hypnotic. Before he can blink, you're in front of him, wet fingertips sliding down his stomach to rest on his hips. "You could never," you assert, voice warm with growing arousal, "l love taking care of you." He hardly realizes you're backing him up until his back meets the cool wall; the shiver that courses through his body is a shockwave.

The noise Edward makes when the soft skin of your palm meets his head is delicious. Somewhere between a whine and a sigh, it makes the blood burn in your veins. "Now, sweetheart, what was it that got you so worked up, hm?" Your fingers dance along his heated skin, spreading Eddie's rapidly leaking precum and making him twitch in your hand. "Thinking about you," he replies, eyes fluttering shut at your touch, "But 's- ngh... st-stupid."

When his gaze meets yours again, your eyes are big and soft, "Why would it be stupid, Eddie?" The way your palm is now skirting against his shaft is causing his brain to lag and he's slow to respond. He's overwhelmed by you in the best way. "You spit out water," he pants softly. The two of you are so close you can feel every rise and fall of his chest, "Made me think of you spitting out my-..."

Edward doesn't get the chance to finish; you decide at that point to start stroking him in earnest. The increase in pace and pressure, the way your fist tightens around him, is incredible. "Eddie, why would you ever think that's stupid, honey," you chastise softly, "That's so hot."

He doesn't hesitate in pressing his lips against yours, breathing in the scent of your fresh body wash, and peeking his tongue out to run against the seam of your kiss. His hands, which had previously been stuck at his sides, have maneuvered their way around your body to grip at whatever flesh they could manage.

You open up for him readily, wantingly, and he all but devours you. It's your turn to whimper when he starts biting at your lips, and you feel as though the remaining water skimming your skin may boil into steam. 

"Wanna feel you," is all you can manage before you're placing him, hot and slick, between your thighs. He moves before you get the chance to, rocking his hips against you, and his solid weight against your clit makes you dizzy. Your nerves feel like they're on fire, raw and sensitive from the intensity of this spur-of-the-moment tryst.

Meanwhile, Edward is having what he earnestly believes might be an out-of-body experience. For a moment, he genuinely thinks he might be watching this from the perspective of a third party before he understands he's just looking at your shared reflection in the bathroom mirror. He sees himself, teeth gritted and hair damp while he takes all that you offer. He sees you, arms around his shoulders and his hands on your waist. You’re hanging on for dear life as he takes you apart from the outside.

Your release hits you like a freight train before you even have half a moment to recognize its approach. Eddie doesn't have enough time to tell you he's close, too, and perfectly content to spill himself all over your folds before he recognizes how your muscles tremble beneath the plushness of your lower tummy.

Wet. All you can register is that what you're feeling is wet, pulsing, and debilitating, and he's fucking you through it.

When you come down from the high, your legs feel like they're made of jelly, which is convenient because you're falling to your knees posthaste to take his sensitive cock into your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, and the eroticism of that fact is in no way lost on you.

A curse is spat from Eddie's wonderfully plump lips at the feel of your tongue. It's all he can do but keep himself from downright shoving himself down your throat at the first available opportunity. But Edward intentionally stops himself, waiting to feel you relax around him to take him deeper. He was so close, so close.

From below, you're watching his every move. His eyes are screwed shut, the hands once desperate for purchase on your ass now flexing as they knot themselves in your hair. When he finally opens his eyes, the sight of you almost does him in completely. Your eyes are half glazed over, your perfect lips working to accommodate his girth. God, you're beautiful.

Still, you can see the hesitancy in his body language and decide enough's enough. Your hands start at his calves, and a shudder wracks his body as they travel, feather-light, up to his thighs. Slowly, as though you're trying not to frighten him, you press your fingers into his skin and pull him towards you.

With this unspoken permission, he's pushing his hips into your face. You watch below him with hooded eyes as he loses himself almost completely. The fingers in your hair tighten ever so slightly, guiding your head back and forth against the length of him. A groan rumbles deep in his chest as he uses your mouth. The sound sends lightning down your spine, and the need briefly sated by your prior orgasm returns threefold.

One hand remains on his thigh, content to feel the thick muscle flex with every long stroke into you, the other snakes between your legs where your slit aches for more touch. The pads of your fingers drag through your folds and you sigh, mouth full, at the contact. Edward watches with intense eyes, and you're so content in your own little world, that you barely hear him speak.

"You want another?"

He watches you nod as best you can, and he's perfectly content to continue engaging in this exercise in mutualism until you both get what you want. He shoves himself further down your throat and your head is spinning as you split your focus between breathing properly and building the searing climax you feel on the horizon.

"You look so good like this," his breathing is uneven, and your hand speeds up to try to meet up with where you know his body is at, "Look so good, getting off to taking my cock." His words are powerful, and you whimper at them. Eddie marvels over you, brows drawn together over pleasure-drunk eyes, fingers making a wet sound with every plunge into your cunt. He feels it stronger than ever, boiling inside him. So close. "Want you to cum for me, can you do that?" Your only response is a wanton moan. "Please," he chokes, "Let me see it." 

And you do. Your walls flex around your fingers and the sight of you, twitching and choking, finally becomes too much for Edward to bear. 

When he finally falls over the edge, it's an all-encompassing, full-body experience. It sends a shiver through his body that makes his legs tremble, and makes the sandy hair on his arms and at the base of his neck stand on end. He pulls his dick from between your lips, and you almost ogle at the sight of it still hard. 

Edward falls to his knees to be closer to you, wedging himself between your body and the bathroom wall. "Spi-... spit it out," he murmurs, watching you with intense eyes, and you comply instantly.

The familiar taste of his cum is bitter, but oh-so Eddie on your tongue. Your lips purse a bit as you spit. It's a little sloppy, but that's on purpose; you're making a show of it for his benefit. The pale fluid shines on your lips like a gloss, dripping and dribbling from your mouth to your chin to drip on the tops of your breasts.

You're a work of art to him: tear tracks stain your cheeks with the memory of his head hitting the back of your throat, your hair is tangled from his frantic fingers, and his cum paints the lower half of your face.

It's everything he's ever imagined it to be and so much more. 

"Edward," you call, and it makes him realize he was staring at you in stupefied silence. A wicked grin spreads on your features. "We made a mess of me, baby," you purr, and Edward's eyes widen as he starts to look anywhere but at you, taking on a sudden shyness about what's transpired. "I'm sorry, honey," he says, voice soft.

You extend a hand to gingerly grab his wrist, guiding his fingers first to wipe his release from your chin and then shove those same fingers into your mouth. His jaw drops, and you can see his length twitch in your peripheral vision. When you've sucked his fingers to your satisfaction, you release his wrist so they can fall from between your lips.

"That's alright, sweetheart," you soothe, voice gentle. He knows that tone always means a mouthwatering danger is lurking beneath your surface. 

 "You can help me clean up."

[starlightsearches]

Hunger Pangs

Had this idea a couple nights ago. Sometimes when I can't fall asleep I'll put on Pride and Prejudice (2005) and it made me think of falling asleep next to Eddie. If you enjoyed it please let me know!

Edward Nashton x Femme! Reader

Warnings: 18+ only, piv sex, free use, somnophilia, cockwarming, unprotected sex, cream pie, language, the whole thing is pretty tender.

The screen flickers softly, and Eddie tries to make sense of the movie playing on your laptop, the one you'd sleepily told him was your favorite. His eyes scan across the subtitles, since the volume is too low to hear the whispered words between the two protagonists, both so caught up in their longing glances they couldn't be bothered to enunciate for Eddie's benefit.

The letters all blur together, though. Nothing sticks, not when he's desperate like this. He's fighting to keep his hips still—a stiff ache emanating from his cock and eating away at his reason until the only thing he can cling to is the fear that he might wake you.

But your body’s so warm, curled against his chest. He'd climbed in beside you as soon as he got home from work, found you wrapped up under the covers of the bed you share each night, laughing softly over a story you'd heard countless times and characters you considered intimate friends.

There was something about it—something so domestic, as you pressed up against him, greeting him with a tired kiss—something that gave him hunger pangs he could not satisfy on his own.

His home was not this apartment, not the city that chewed him up countless times and then spat him out for his bitter taste. His home was and always would be you.

And he needed to be inside you. More than anything.

He prays for a sudden tone shift—a musical sting or a bit of shouted dialogue—but it seems the movie is as determined not to wake you as he is. You stay still, chest rising and falling steadily in time with the quiet melody, lips parted in a soft pout. He watches you in the flickering light of the screen.

Eddie feels sick that he could be this selfish.

He'll go to sleep, or try at least. He'll pray for some pleasant dream, something soft that might quell his hunger until he could have you.

Maybe you sense that on some level; your body shifts, pressing tighter until your hips meet his—hard cock pillowed in the cushion of your ass.

Eddie moans. Long and loud, the needy sound fills the space between your four walls. He covers his mouth with a fervent hand, but he's much too slow.

"Eddie?"

You breathe his name, turning over your shoulder, face dark in contrast to blue light of the screen. Eddie swallows, propped up on his arm still so he can look you in the eye.

"Yeah?"

You can still feel him through the thin shorts you're wearing, he's certain. With the gentle sway of your hips, he knows you know.

Your voice is thick with sleep, eyes blinking away the last traces of a dream. "You okay, honey?"

"I'm fine, dove," he whispers, encouraging you to lay against the pillow, brushing a gentle hand over your hair, "go back to sleep."

Your body twists against the sheets, turning to face him. He bites harsh lines into his bottom lip when the contact is lost.

You hum a little question, fingers tracing over the hard shape of his cock through the material of his sweats. Eddie let's out a gasp.

"You could have woken me up," you say.

He bites hard at the inside of his cheek, trying to maintain some composure. "I- I didn't want to bother you."

You just press him flat against the bed, shifting a leg over him until you're straddling his hips. Your body rolls languidly over his jutting cock again. His fingers twist against the sheets.

"You'll never bother me, honey. You can have me whenever you want."

"Really?" He just resists the urge to buck his hips against yours as you lay your head down against his chest, lashes fluttering closed against warm cheeks.

"Mhmm, whenever."

Your clothed cunt is resting right against the bulge in his sweatpants. He takes a chance—emboldened—pressing the tips of his fingers against the damp fabric, tracing your familiar folds until he finds your clit. "Like, god, like right now?"

You hum softly, burying your face in Eddie's shoulder, lips soft at his neck. He takes that as a yes.

Eddie slips his thumbs under the edge of your sleep shorts, soft skin brushing against his knuckles as he bares you from the waist down. You've got hearth-warm thighs; he lets his hands travel over the curve of your ass, dipping into the heat between your legs with chill fingers.

There's a quiet rumbling in your chest when he slides between your folds, just dipping inside your entrance. You're wet already, sensitive from sleep and dripping after the few tender touches he's given. Eddie bites hard enough on the inside of his cheek to draw blood, trying to keep quiet.

It's difficult work, shifting his sweatpants down over his hips far enough for his cock to slip out with your weight on top of him, but he manages, hissing a little at the cool air.

Whenever you want. Eddie wonders if you know what you've promised him. He can't think of a single moment he hasn't wanted to be inside you.

The head of his cock presses up against your waiting hole, and there's a little resistance as he slips inside with a quiet groan, fluttering contractions squeezing him just right.

He takes his time, has to take his time, thrusting in as gently as he can with a white-knuckle grip on your hips as you swallow him. He could cum just like this, from the weight of your body and the plush grip of your cunt and the soft puff of your breaths on his neck.

The muscles in his core tighten; he resists the urge, even if he knows his strength won't last.

Eddie thrusts slowly, but it’s still too much. He's unraveling, not just because of the sublime drag of your cunt around the head of his cock with each gentle shift of his hips. You trust him enough to have you at your most vulnerable. You've given him everything he could want and then offered more.

He feels your lips part against his neck. You moan a little in your sleep.

Eddie spills inside you with a sob, too overcome to be cognizant of how loud he is as the waves of pleasure ripple through him. He can feel his cum leak out of you, white strands pulsing from your swollen cunt as he fucks himself through the aftershocks, going until the red-hot burn becomes too much.

He's panting, a sticky hand at your waist, petting lazily over your spine. You hardly stir. Eddie's shaking free hand shuts the lid of your laptop, plunging the two of you into darkness.

He thinks he could fall asleep like this—cock still seated firmly inside you, eyes closed as he wraps you tight in his arms. He does, breathing easy, feeling safe. Feeling home.

[lost-in-sokovia]

Hi soph!!!! You asked for blurb requests so can you do something about just hugging Eddie and how warm and soft and loved he feels??

HI DARLING YES!

windbreaker

he ran in as quickly as possible, closing the door firmly behind him and letting a shiver run through his entire body. it had been rainy and windy all day in gotham, and you were lucky you had gotten to stay home all day instead of going out like your poor boyfriend.

you heard eddie sniff as he took off his shoes taking a couple of deep breaths to re-ground himself and let his body finally relax. you stood up from the couch and softly made your way to the door where he stood.

“hi, baby,” you greeted sweetly. edward looked up at you and gave you a small smile.

“hi, angel. s-sorry,” he breathed. you cocked an eyebrow.

“sorry about what?”

“just—“ your boyfriend sighed heavily and shrugged. he knew he had no reason to apologize. he was literally just existing after coming home from work. you looked at him and carefully walked over to him. unzipping his wet navy blue windbreaker, you parted the sides before wrapping your arms around his body inside it. edward’s breath caught in his throat and you nuzzled against the button up he wore as you took in how warm and comforting he felt.

“you’re so lovely,” was all you murmured. you felt eddie’s shallow breath graze the top of your head for a moment before he swallowed.

“thank you,” he mumbled, a bit flustered. you stayed there, occasionally increasing your grip around him and running your fingers gently up and down his back. he couldn’t quite hug you back, he didn’t want to get you wet, but from the way he slowly melted into your touch, you knew he felt at home.

loved.

[finniestoncrane]

I’d like to order delivery! Could I get question mark nuggies (Dano) and the signature cocktail with a side of curly fries, cheese popcorn, garlic bread, and corn on the cob? (Female/AFAB reader?)

(Congrats on 1.5k Finnie! You deserve it! Here’s to the next milestone! 💚🎉)

dano!riddler x female!reader, word count: 550 content (warnings): straddling, bed sharing, biting, marking kink, masturbation orders open here! 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block) a/n: thank you anon! i think this is my peak lmao but i'm so happy and grateful 💚

he presumed he'd be sleeping on the couch, after all it was only your first official date

and the only reason he was still there and not going back to his own apartment, his safe space, was that you had insisted on not letting him walk home in the rain

a more confident man would have realised your intentions

would have figured out that it was an excuse, after all everyone walked home in the rain every day in gotham

but edward was delightfully naïve, unassuming, never one to get ahead of himself

"c'mon silly! the whole point is that you don't get cold. i'm not leaving my radiator on all night, just get into the bed with me!"

his blushing and stammering, the sweat beading on his forehead, soaking his palms

it was adorable, and very telling of his feelings

as he lay awkwardly still next to you, keeping his body from touching you in fear that he might make you uncomfortable, you decided to bridge the gap

taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tight, giggling as he stiffened then loosened up, giggling more when he began to snicker too

"i suppose this means that i'm your... or that we're... that i'm...?"

"that you're mine now?"

his smile was warm, comforted that you were following the same train of thought as him

"yeah"

"not quite"

panic flooded his chest and his stomach turned, but those feelings of dread were quickly replaced by one of surprise as you smoothly lifted yourself on top of him

thighs on either side of his hips, resting yourself against the softly growing bulge at the front of his underwear

"this makes you mine"

leaning down, your chest against his as you found your balance, you let your lips find his neck, curling them back and baring your teeth as you nibble him gently

then digging them into the skin, sucking as you held him in place, pulling off with a sharp pop, saliva trailing behind

you admired your work, a reddening circle, marked up

"now you're mine. now everyone can tell"

he blushed, pupils blown, cock throbbing with excitement at the intimacy you had thrust upon him

"you can't be ready for bed... are you up for some more?"

his slow nodding was accompanied by a half-smile on his slightly parted lips, drool collecting behind them

"well do exactly as i say and i'll make sure you're good and tired"

shifting down his body, resting on his thighs, you grabbed his hands and led them to his cock

"take it in your hands and start stroking it for me, eddie. i want to watch you."

fumbling, clumsy in his excitement, he pulled his semi-erect cock from his underwear and began stroking it, not quite frantic but desperate

"slower. i want you to go all the way from the bottom..."

you prodded the base of his length with your finger and dragged it up to the tip as you spoke

"... all the way to the top. and i'm going to leave some more marks on that pretty little belly of yours while you go"

swallowing his nerves, and focused on not cumming before you had even started, eddie closed his eyes tight and thanked the universe for finally finally giving him a break

[writingsofmax]

Home For Christmas

Words: 3.7 K

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, character exploration, christmas

author's note: I was sitting alone, super late on Christmas night, feeling weird about the holidays when I decided to write this. This is an Edward x reader fic but it's also an exploration of his character. I was thinking about what Edward's experience with Christmas might have been throughout different times of his life, and how he would realistically handle it as an adult. If you're someone that finds the holidays difficult and maybe doesn't even like Christmas, then this one goes out to you. <3

Christmas. 

Every year it was excruciating. The holiday had been brutal at the orphanage. Back when the orphanage was still functioning, he had been too young to participate or even remember the festivities. By the time he was old enough, the funding had run out. 

The staff would put up some dusty decorations that were falling apart on one designated Christmas wall for a couple days. The children would rehearse their hymns and songs for the public. They would each get one present that was the same as everyone else’s. It was usually a pair of mittens or a spiral notebook. And then they would go to bed hungry and freezing cold. The single television they had would project images of children spending Christmas at loving homes. Their living room floors hidden under the copious amounts of presents they received. Smiles big and warm on their faces as they lifted the steaming mug of hot cocoa to their lips. They would sit on the floor and watch those displays of what the holidays should be like before a staff member would come in and turn the TV off, sending them all to their cots and threadbare blankets for the night.

One year Thomas Wayne came to the orphanage during Christmas. And he talked to Edward! Imagine that! Told him he mattered. That he would do well in this world. 

What a joke. 

He had been too young to understand then, but he had just been a political pawn. As an adult he knew that Mr. Wayne had most likely been told to say nice things to the poor orphans so he could look good on TV. But as a child he had taken it very seriously. He had gotten his hopes up just to be beaten down soon after. That had been one of his earliest Christmas memories. 

Once he was old enough to go to a public school outside of the orphanage it was almost worse.

“What did you get this year?” The inevitable question would come.

“Nothing.” Edward would always reply. 

Like every year. 

But he wanted to say “Lies. False promises. Emptiness.” 

Sleepless cold nights. Forced pageantry so everyone else could enjoy the stupid holiday. Those Christmas songs and hymns were burned into his memory whether he liked it or not. 

In college it wasn’t much better. Everyone would talk about how excited they were for winter break. Looking forward to seeing family, friends and pets that they were missing.  Hearing everyone in passing idly chatting about the homes they were going back to. Even out of the orphanage he couldn’t escape the fact that he was unwanted. That there was no home for him to go back to and that there never would be. 

He would stay on campus of course, the halls barren, and walk around like a ghost. No classes to distract him from the echoes of his past. No swell of bodies in the hall to disappear into and be a part of. 

It was just him and the inner knowledge that he wasn’t wanted, that he had no one, and that it was somehow his fault. Those late nights on campus he would find himself walking outside alone a lot. He would spend late nights trudging through the snow, hoping the chill would distract him from the screaming in his mind. 

As an adult, holiday parties at work were just another societal ritual that he didn’t understand. Secret Santas were like his own personal hell. No one wanted to get Eddie for theirs. No one knew what to get him because he, “Didn’t talk much!” His reactions to opening the things he got were never acceptable enough. He was either overly cheerful or came off as rude. It’s like he couldn’t choose the right emotions that people wanted to see. 

No one ever liked the gifts he gave either. A gift certificate to a diner that the recipient thought was gross. A plain office spiral notebook that wasn’t enough for Christmas, even though as a child that’s usually what he had gotten. A small book of riddles that they frowned upon opening and asked, “Isn’t this stuff for kids?” 

“Happy Holidays”  

No one wants me. 

“Merry Christmas!” 

There is something deeply wrong with me. 

“Have a happy new year!”

 I am never going to fit in in this world. 

For Edward, it never got easier. His routine was always to try and avoid the holidays as much as possible. All of these reasons and more were why, when you asked him if he wanted to spend the holiday with you this year, he didn’t know what to say.

He froze and you immediately said, “It’s okay if you don’t want to! I don’t mean to impose!” 

Because he looked deeply uncomfortable when you asked.  He grimaced and looked out the diner window, now cloudy with frost on the glass. Turning his attention back to you, he picked up his coffee cup and swirled the dregs around contemplatively. 

“It’s fine... It’s just that I don’t…. like… the holidays,” he answered slowly, as if even thinking about it was painful.

You frowned. You knew that Eddie had been an orphan, maybe it had been insensitive of you to ask. 

“Oh.. That’s okay! Um. I was just asking because I’m not going home this year, so I just thought…” you trailed off seeing that same pained expression appear on his face again. 

“Home..” he answered before taking the last sip of his coffee. He didn’t finish his thought. 

You were definitely puzzled. You had been with Eddie for almost a year now, and hadn’t ever seen him be this quiet. You knew he wasn’t the most forthcoming about personal matters, but this was different. He hadn’t even told you a riddle or a pun today. 

“My family is going on a trip this year and I couldn’t take that much time off work, so I have four days to fill by myself,” you explained, not sure if he was listening or not, “and I like spending time with you so…”

Eddie smiled weakly at your last comment.

“I like spending time with you too,” he answered quietly.

The waitress came to your table and refilled both of your mugs while you sat in silence. 

“Eddie? Are you okay?” 

He looked up at you over his coffee apologetically. 

“Yes, sorry.. Just tired,” he mumbled as he stirred sugar into his coffee. 

You reached across the table and held his hand, rubbing your thumb over his. 

“I love you, okay? If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but just know that I am here for you.”

It hurt to see him like this, you wished you knew what was wrong. Edward squeezed your hand, and peered up at you from under his glasses. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment before speaking. 

“I know… I’m sorry. It’s just that I never did the whole… holiday thing. And I’m not good at it. I’m not good at giving presents or…  being cheerful or any of the requirements,” he lifted his coffee with his free hand and took a sip before continuing, “I don’t know if you would want to spend the holidays with me.” 

He didn’t look at you as he spoke, he just kept his eyes trained on the window the whole time, studying patterns in the frost. 

“I definitely do want to,” you insisted, “You don’t have to be any certain way for me.” Edward stopped studying the window, and turned back to you, a blush creeping up his neck. “Oh. Um. Then yeah, we should definitely… spend it together, if that’s what you want..” He trailed off awkwardly, pushing his glasses back up his nose. That was a good enough answer for you. After the two of you finished your drinks, you flagged down the waitress to bring you the check. You paid the fee at the register and as the two of you were leaving, she called out behind you, “Have a Merry Christmas!” You called back, “Thanks, you too!” 

Edward frowned and shrunk down inside of his coat a little. You decided to go to his place that night because it was closer, and it was cold. As you walked the snowy streets, the Christmas lights in the trees shone down beautifully, reflecting off the icy patches. “I love the lights this time of year.. Aren’t they so pretty?” you asked.

“Um.. Yes.” Edward answered rigidly, glancing up at them for a second before continuing to look forward.

“So what do you wanna do over Christmas break?” You asked, excited to be spending it with him.

“I don’t know,” he answered tonelessly, his eyes narrowing. “Um. Whatever you want to do I guess,” he added on quickly, offering you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Are you sure it's okay I’m spending it with you?” You asked, “You seem a little…”

Edward looked at you, waiting for you to finish your sentence.

“Upset.” You finished. 

“Oh. Sorry.” He answered simply. The two of you trudged on in silence after that, since he didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk. After a while, Edward noticed that you were frowning at the ground while you walked, so he gathered up the courage to try to explain his feelings. He wasn’t trying to upset you, but seemed to be failing miserably at it. “Well, If I’m being honest….” he started, his grip tightening on yours, “The holidays were always a bad time for me…. And this season brings back a lot of memories I would rather not think about. It kind of distracts me I guess.”  He pulled his key from his coat pocket and unlocked his door, letting you out of the cold and into the apartment building. As you walked up the dingy stairway, your stomach twisted. He was really down, and he clearly really disliked the holidays. You deeply regretted the tin of sugar cookies and hot chocolate mix you had shoved in your purse before going out to meet him at the diner. Once your coats were off and you were both safely enclosed in the warm confines of Edward’s apartment, you followed him into the living room. “Let’s watch some movies!” You suggested, wanting to hopefully take his mind off of it. Edward’s chest tightened as he guessed what was coming, you were going to ask to watch holiday movies, and then he would agree, and it would put him in a terrible mood. “Wanna watch the SAW movies?” you asked, inspecting his rack of DVDs. “You must really like them if you have all of them here.” He brightened at that. “Oh! Yeah, definitely!” he agreed, smiling at you for the first time that day. Once the movie was in and started, you snuggled up to Eddie on the couch, laying your head on his chest and shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you. You felt him kiss the top of your head as the movie started. You thought the movie was a little gruesome, but it seemed to relax Eddie a lot, and that was all that mattered. Plus, you could hide your face in his chest and snuggle up to him more whenever you got scared, which both of you liked. At the end of the second movie, you were getting hungry. You got up to go rummage in the kitchen for something to eat.

“What do you have for snacks, Eddie?” You asked as you made your way past him on the couch.

“I’m pretty sure I have popcorn and—” He stopped as you tripped over your purse that you had left lying on the floor, catching your arm as you tilted forward. “Careful!” he cautioned, “Are you alright?” He asked, reaching down to pick up your purse, and what had spilled out of it.

“Yeah I’m alright.” You answered bashfully.

“What is this?” He asked curiously, holding up the tin decorated with a snowflake pattern.

“Oh…. Those are…” You sighed, praying that this wouldn’t bring his mood back down, “I made you sugar cookies and brought you some hot chocolate mix… for um.. Christmas..”

Edward’s eyes widened. He looked at you, and then looked at the tin, before looking back at you, “Really?”

“Yeah…” you mumbled, feeling very foolish knowing how he felt about the holidays now, “But you don’t have to accept them or anything if you…” you trailed off as you saw Edward opening the box, pulling one out and smelling it.

“I actually have always wanted to try one of these… You made these?” He asked again, digging through the box.

“Yeah!” you answered, relieved that he actually seemed happy about it.

“For me?” He asked, incredulously.

“Yes.”

“So I can have one?” He asked again, his brows furrowed, as he held a cookie in front of him, inspecting it closely.

You laughed, “Yes. They are for you.”

You spent the rest of the evening snacking on popcorn and cookies with Edward while watching the rest of the movies. He almost didn’t want to eat them at all, but knew he couldn’t save them forever. It was the first time anyone had given him a gift that they hadn’t been obligated to. The gift hadn’t just been some thoughtless cheap thing either, it was something that you had worked on and made specifically for him to enjoy.

He pulled your face to his and kissed you softly, before pulling the blankets over both of you and settling in to watch the last movie.

Once the SAW marathon was over, you dug in your purse for your phone to see if anyone had contacted you. After not finding it, your stomach sank, and you realized that you left your cellphone at your apartment. If your family couldn’t get a hold of you on Christmas tomorrow, they were going to freak out. You were so apologetic about having to go back over there so late but Edward didn’t care. He was more of a night owl anyway. 

Edward packed some overnight clothes so the two of you could just stay at your place after you got there since it was so late and you were tired.

Once at your apartment, you flicked the lights on and quickly shrugged off your coat and purse. You prayed that your phone was actually there, and not buried in the snow outside somewhere. You let out a major sigh of relief when you found your phone, plugged in by your bed. 

“I found it!” You called out to Eddie, but didn't get a reply.

You walked back out into your living room to find Edward sitting on the couch, his gaze focused on the small Christmas tree in your apartment corner. You had gotten it a few days earlier at a second hand store. It was a scraggly, cheap plastic mini tree that you had grabbed for 3 bucks. It came with some lights already on it. You had gotten it in a small attempt to bring some life into your dreary apartment, but it hadn’t really worked. Unfortunately, you had completely forgotten about it before bringing him over here. “I found my phone!” you said again. “Thankfully it was here.” “Oh!” Edward answered, looking at you and smiling, “Good!” “Are you tired yet?” you asked, feeling more awake than you had before. Going back outside into the cold had woken you up a bit. “Not really,” Edward answered, his gaze back on the tree. “I can put another movie on? Pick one out that you like and we can watch it!” You suggested, internally cursing yourself for bringing him here. Edward nodded, seeming to like your idea. You watched as he crouched down in front of your movie shelf, eyes scanning the titles. You left him to it, going into your kitchen to get something to drink. When you came back, he was still in the same spot, but looking at your tree again. He looked very sad, and lost in thought. Damn it. You really wished you hadn’t put that decoration up. “Did you find anything you want to watch?” you asked, and he stiffened, your words bringing him back to the present. “Ummm…. Yeah!” He answered, scanning down the titles again before pulling one out from the row with his index finger. You took it from him. “The Thing, huh?” you commented, before putting it in the player. “A good choice! Haven’t seen this one in awhile.” The two of you settled onto your couch as you watched the movie. You were fully engrossed in the story, but you noticed that Edward was fidgety. He didn’t put his arms around you and picked at the blanket absent-mindedly. He watched the movie with you but you noticed he kept looking at your tree. After a while, every time you peeked over at him, you would find him staring at it, his eyes glazed over. He stopped picking at the blanket and started picking at his fingers. You reached over and took his hand in yours, rubbing circles into the back of his palm with your fingers.  “This part is really scary,” you murmured as an explanation.

That seemed to soothe him for a while, but soon enough, he was back to looking at it, his hand gripping yours tighter and tighter. 

You let go of his hand and got up from the couch, making your way over to the tree. He watched you curiously. “Everything okay?” he asked from his spot on the couch, his curious nature activated at your sudden movements. “Yeah.” You said, shoving up on the bottom of the window pane. “I’m fine.” “What are you doing?” He asked, getting up off the couch. The window seemed to be frozen shut and you struggled with it. “I’m trying to open this window, it’s really hot in here. Could you help me?” you asked, standing to the side to let him try. “Of course, Angel.” With a hard shove from Eddie, the window broke free of its icy confines and opened. Ice cold Gotham air blew into your apartment, causing you to shiver. “Thank you.” You said, matter of factly. Then without any explanation you reached down and unplugged your Christmas tree. “Um, what–” Edward started. And then you tossed it out the window. Both of you watched it fall to the snowy ground several stories beneath your apartment. “WHAT!” Eddie exclaimed, “Why did you just???” He looked at you wide eyed, completely bewildered. “I could see it was bothering you. And anyway, it was ugly.” Edward leaned out of the window, looking down at the offending tree before pulling himself back in, shutting the window, and turning to you. “You didn’t have to do that!” He exclaimed.  Edward’s genuine shock at your actions was hilarious to you. You covered your face with your hands, trying to stifle your giggles but it was of no use. You burst out laughing. Then you heard it. A high pitched giggle. You opened your eyes to find Edward laughing too. The two of you carried on like that for a few minutes, each of you laughing so much that it was hard to breathe at times. By the time the two of you had finally settled down, the movie was almost over.

Edward sighed, wiping a tear away from under his glasses, “That’s alright, we should probably go to bed anyway since it's so late. We can watch it tomorrow.”

You put your hands on either side of Eddie’s face, and kissed him warmly, running your hands through his hair. He kissed you back passionately, his hands pulling your waist towards him. The two of you did not go to sleep until much later. 

Edward woke up on Christmas Day with you in his arms. Surprisingly his mind wasn’t filled with dread at the thought of yet another Christmas to get through. He had you there, curled into him, and he felt at peace. He was at home with you. The two of you spent the morning sleepily making coffee, watching movies together and talking. Around noon, you decided to go pick up some Chinese food for lunch and to also get out of the apartment for a little bit. The idea of completely ignoring Christmas had become somewhat of an inside joke between the two of you, after you had thrown your tree out the window. “Really weird that there’s barely any restaurants open today, can’t imagine why.” You commented, in your best sincere voice. Edward giggled, “Yes it is quite strange. And all of these lights everywhere too. Perhaps it's some sort of cult?” You continued to look serious as you thought of what to say next. “What is that?” Edward asked, gesturing to something in the snow. You looked and it was your Christmas tree decoration, still lying on the sidewalk, completely ruined. Both of you erupted in laughter. A while later, you were on the way back to your apartment, both of you carrying copious amounts of Chinese food, when Edward stopped to ask you a question. “Um.. Do you want…” he looked to the side, his cheeks tinged pink from the cold, “Do you want to do anything…. Christmas-sy? Like.. I don’t know.. I could go buy you a present or something and you could open it.”  Edward squeezed the bags of take out  to his chest a little tighter when he asked. As uncomfortable as it was, he didn’t want you to miss out on things you might want to do because of his hang-ups. You smiled warmly at him and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “Nope! Spending time with you today is more than enough. I love being with you. Honestly, this is the most fun I’ve had in years.” You adjusted the weight of the bag on your arm before continuing, “Anyway, let's get home, I’m hungry!” 

Edward smiled, the tightness in his chest melting away. He followed after you, the two of you making the only footprints on the sidewalk as you made your way back home.

I am wanted. I am needed. I am at home right here with you. 

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐓𝐨 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐎𝐟?

↳ summary: edward meets someone new

↳ warnings: slight mentions of suicidal thoughts, written from the point of a fucked up eddie, mentions of bombs, obsessive behavior, savior complex, incel behavior, teetering on yandere but i hate that word lmao. he's so pathetic without his mask on baby i love you

↳ song: malmo—mook

masterlist!

Love?

No. Insanity.

Edward can't remember where or how he first saw you, but if he had to guess, it was probably the night you moved two doors down from him.

He woke up that morning like any other day in his life. Full of bitterness and resentment for the city— his city, because it was his —outside a fog filled appartment window.

Once upon a time, it had been battered pane of glass that peojected this image to him as it did now; broken shards scattered on the dead grass outside reflecting 'GOTHAM ORPHANAGE' back to a much younger verson of him. Waking up as a child had always been such a disappointment. He used to hug himself to fitful sleep, a tiny part of him hoping he would pass in the unforgiving night like so many children before.

He didn't think that feeling of bile in the back of his throat would ever go away each time sleep was pulled from him and he woke up back in Gotham. No matter how many people promised change for the better on televisions or radios. Because Edward knew the truth.

Gotham reached out to him. It reached out to him in his dreams with its gleaming skyscrapers as hands and its screaming people as desperate pleas. Begging him to be fixed. To rid it of the scum plauging glamorous penthouses just high enough off the ground that just one push of the hand could send a sinner to his rightful death.

He thought about all of this before he had even finished brushing his teeth.

Careful hands pulled a frayed toothbrush from his mouth as Edward spit into the sink to wash his mouth out. A ratty towel swiped over his lips gently when he finished. Such a refined action for someone with a bomb built for a human neck sitting just outside his bathroom door.

It wasn't uncommon for him to get lost in the swirl of thoughts he called his conscious, but he needed to keep up appearances just long enough to carry out his plan. And that included not being late to work for the third time this month.

Eventually the knob of his appartment was being locked tightly with the end of a faux gold key — the toothbrush from earlier already drying on the edge of his sink.

He struggled with the lock for a moment more, silently cursing whoever had decided to make living on this side of town so hard, before eventually getting it with a pop.

From that point on, the sound of your voice would forever take over his mind.

Edward first noticed your smile lines. The crinkles by the sides of your eyes enticed him like a fresh baked cookie would to a child. How curious, that a person could have so much physical evidence of a happy life whilst living in this place. He wondered if you had been born here, or were new to the location. He found himself envying the thought of the latter.

The next thing he noticed about you, was that you were asking him a question for the second time in a row.

"Sorry, could you repeat that?" Edward nervously stuttered, usually steady hands fumbling to push his glasses up clumsily. Once again— or at least he thinks once again — you grin at him, holding a slightly beaten up moving box in your arms. Why he had noticed that later than the deep crinkles on your face, he wasn't sure.

"I asked if all the locks in this place were going to act like that one. Because in that case, there's no way I'm surviving a horror movie chase." You nodded with your head at his troublesome door instead of gesturing. Probably because your hands were full. Most definitely because your hands were full, actually.

Edward blinked slowly.

"Uhm, no. No no I don't think so." He supplied softly. It was a lame response to your quip. He remembered reading somewhere that first impressions forever solidified a figure in your life, whether minor or major. The thought of that made his heart beat faster.

A pregnant pause settled over the hallway. Edward felt his palms sweat. He wiped them on his pants. All it did was spread it around more.

"Well, nice to meet you." It was you that finally broke the silence. With a shuffle of one foot to the other he heard a few things clink from inside your little box. He wondered what was in it. A vase you bought for decoration? Photo phrames? China that your great grandmother left you in her will?

He stood there wondering about fucking plates for so long, that you had begun to turn your body away and make your way back down the hallways.

"Wait!" Edward lurched forward to place a stern grip on your lower arm. The look of momentary fear you gave him in that moment was enough for him to straighten his spine out.

Something about that barely concealed emotion in your eyes excited him. For a brief moment he was in a leather mask, staring at the bloody body of the mayor below him on Halloween night.

And then he was back. Looking into your eyes like they were last thing he would ever see.

"My names Edward." He released his grip on you while finally introducing himself. With his falling hand went your initial fear. "But my friends call me Eddie."

He didn't have any friends. And if he did, they certainly wouldn't call him Eddie. But the white lie was nothing compared to the way his name, both the formal and shortened verson, slipped from your lips.

"I'll remember that next time. It's very nice to meet you, neighbor."

And then you were gone, feet shuffling against stained and waterlogged carpet before disappearing into what used to be a vacant appartment.

In your wake stood Gothams soon to be savior and cleanser. A man that has committed unspeakable acts in the name of justice and planned to do even more. The very same individual that hid skeletons in his closet and so many more at the scenes of his cromes.

Somewhere in between there, Edward would have to install a camera in your bedroom.

[danosrosegarden]

(from my phone) nshtn: for the valentines event what about... helping Edward with his self-care routine, by giving him a nice, soothing, warm soapy bath with your own shampoos in your own tub while he flusters and flounders from the sheer intimacy, the act's worth, the fact that he's naked and you're treating him so innocently and gently?

warming up - edward nashton x gn!reader ₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

{valentine's requests: two ♡}

{contains: mostly just sweet fluff and comfort. mentions of nsfw activities, but nothing in explicit detail.}

Even through the blurred, orange glow of the candlelit bathroom, you could still see Edward’s peachy skin burning with blush.

While the bathtub filled with water–tinted a milky white with bubbling, floral-scented soap–you watched him shed his clothes from the corner of your eye. You had promised to do the same, just to make him more comfortable. It wasn’t as if you’d never seen him naked before. He just got shy sometimes. 

You had suggested the idea of giving him a nice, long, warm, tranquil bath after he’d tumbled in the door of your shared apartment one evening, aching and sallow from another rigorous day of work. Jaundiced bags of exhaustion were painted underneath his eyes. A long, weary sigh snaked out from his throat as he trudged into the bedroom without offering a single word to you. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t hurt by the block of distance he’d placed between you two, but you were determined to make the block melt and evaporate. You simply wouldn’t allow his temporary stress to unravel the stitches that held you two together so tightly.

Edward offered a crooked smile to you as he climbed into the tub. A confirmation, almost. I see you, vulnerable and bare. You see me, vulnerable and bare. We’re here, we’re here together.

The steam that feathered into the air from the hot, soapy water made Edward’s forehead slick. You tucked away the wet strands of hair, your hand traveling down and rubbing the tense muscles of his shoulder. His eyes fluttered shut as a small smile crept across his face.

“You’re so good to me.” His voice was gentle. Soft. As if the quiet aura of glistening comfort that sparkled in the air would shatter into little irreparable pieces if he spoke too loud.

Both of your hands traveled back to Edward’s hair, the pads of your fingers rubbing tender circles into his scalp. It went on like this for a while, you gently fondling his damp hair, him sighing, having fallen deep into a thick, cool serenity.

You took advantage of his eyes being shut and drank his whole body in; Edward would normally shy away and try to cover up whenever he saw your eyes wander. But each curve, each splattered patch of freckles, each dash of a blemish, each roll and wrinkle and inch of his being was breathtaking to you. You wished he’d recognize that. 

You hadn’t noticed that your fingers had stopped their mild circling until Eddie’s eyes cracked open. His smile broke as he caught your stare.

“Hey,” he whispered defensively.

You wrapped your hands around him and rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the coolness of the tub that separated your bodies against your bare skin. “Hey, yourself. I’m just looking. I’m surprised you could even see me staring without your glasses.” Edward’s chest rattled with a high giggle.

You sat together in the warmth of the quiet, dim bathroom. Occasionally, Edward’s legs would twitch and the water would bob with gentle ripples. 

Maybe your fingers had slowly found their way to his sides, your nails brushing up and down against his skin. Maybe you just couldn’t help yourself.

When you’d first met Edward, he clearly had a few layers of protection slathered around him. You can never be too cautious. Each night you spent by his side, though, another inch of wall would crumble. You could almost sense him becoming more comfortable. More him. But when he finally got the courage to take your hand and dive into something more with you, the process began again.

He’d bite his lip to keep from being too loud, no matter how many times you insisted you would like the noises that leaked from him. He wanted to shed his clothing with the lights off. He’d ask to do it under the covers. You’d never push him into something that would make him uncomfortable. That would vacuum-suck any enjoyment out of it. But watching his unease slowly curl away and unravel…that was rewarding. The noises he made. The way his hands roamed your body. The nods of confirmation, the words of encouragement. He was delectable when he felt safe, and you were his home. 

Edward shivered as your nails grazed against his plush skin and drew a sharp gasp as your hands slowly plunged below the water and rubbed his thighs. You planted soft kisses across his round cheeks. He was burning hot, searing with blush.

“S-so good to me,” he repeated, his own hand brushing against yours in the balmy, pearly water.

You thought of the nights you’d spent together in bed, wrapped in each other's arms, the room so quiet that it was as if you could hear the stars twinkling and the fat moon glittering from outside your window. You thought of the times he’d twirl your hair in his fingers or make you dinner or text you silly riddles to solve while he was at work or cuddle you close while you weren’t feeling well. He was so good to you, too.

Maybe he needed to work on his knee-jerk reaction of wanting to hide away in the shadows when you’d look at him, your eyes glazed over with chunky layers of love, but at least he was warming up to that idea that he could be loved wholly. He could be cherished unconditionally. There was no goal he had to achieve, no milestone he had to reach before you’d envelop him in your warm, sweet care.

You’d meet him where he was.