#paul dano characters

[the-witty-pen-name]

Edward Nashton (The Batman) x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

College AU

Warnings: Stalking & other creepy behavior, Manipulation, Incel/Misogynistic Mindset, Alcohol and other substances, Descriptions of Smut and Masturbation, Cursing

As usual, this is unedited and if there are any tags or warnings I may have forgotten to include, please let me know.

THIS IS AN 18+ STORY WITH DARK THEMES, PAY ATTENTION TO WARNINGS AND MINORS DNI

You’re so sweet. Soft and warm, and everything that just clouds his focus. He’s memorized every curve, and the natural sway when you walk into a room. It’s like sunshine when you smile, and he notices the way they gravitate towards you. Of course they do, they all do. He’s not naive enough to believe he’s not the only one who wants to be near you. It’s effortless, the way people are drawn to you. But it’s in vain, every time, polite rejections that leave people somehow liking you more. You’re loyal, such a good girl for him, because you know you’re his.

His first impression of you was stereotypical. He pegged you to be another daft popular girl who has clawed her way to the top of the social ladder. Superficial and dumb, being able to use your looks for everything. His observations of people and their trends led him to assume, which he regrets. Somehow, you break the mold, everything he’s observed about social hierarchy out the window. It’s infuriating at first, because you’re just so nice- like god just made you out of a small piece of heaven. Fuck, and you’re so smart.

The first time you interrupted the professor in lecture to correct him (politely, of course- a sweetheart) he thought it was puzzling. You were puzzling. A challenge to figure out, to open up slowly and unravel. It started out innocently, just the sheer curiosity gnawing at him. You were a mystery, and he needed to satisfy that curiosity that was becoming more and more bothersome.

It’s easy to find your full name on the professor’s class roster, all he needed to do was pretend to have questions during office hours. The dimwit goes to get coffee and he’s able to sneak a peak at the list without disrupting anything on the desk. It goes perfectly. And one search on Instagram takes him to your page easily. Except it’s a good damn book dedicated Instagram. Irritating, honestly, but he applauds you for keeping your actual account private, which is the second account in the list of suggestions. It’s dumb that you can’t zoom in on profile pictures.

For now, he settled on lurking at the bookstagram, as you called it in the bio. Cute. That night at home instead of working on his other projects, he stayed up reading each of the long captions you’d written out reviewing each book you had read. Some of them he recognized as ones that were very popular, others were classics, some graphic novels, it was a rather eclectic mix of genres. He liked that. No non-fiction though, he made note. Interesting. He can’t blame you for that.

Once he worked his way through your page, he ends up ordering a few of the titles on Amazon. He’d usually opt for the library, which he used for some other titles you said you liked that he placed holds for. But to get started sooner, the two day shipping was a godsend. He figured he’d have one with him in class, keep it on his desk, carry it around campus with the cover outward, an attempt to catch your eye. Strike up a conversation, figure out something else about you.

He also found himself wanting to read some of these just because of how your posts made them sound. However, his main motive was to use them as a prop in an attempt to have an excuse to talk to you. He would lure you in to him, so he doesn’t have to go out of his way. It’s more natural this way. You’re the social butterfly, fluttering around being outgoing and sociable while he was the quiet one. The mysterious, reserved one. It makes more sense for you to reach out to start that first important conversation than him. And with a copy of a book you rated five stars in hand, he thinks it will work out just as he would like to.

He’d document your schedule as close as he could manage. Observe your daily routine, where you go, when. That way he can plan where he can run into you. Running to the campus coffee cart between classes for you to see him casually reading Madeline Miller or James Joyce or Ottessa Moshfegh or Fredrik Backman something else you’ve read that’s just popular enough to not make you suspicious.

Edward is very good at being invisible. It’s not even something he needs to try at. He’s gone his whole life being naturally ignored, dismissible. He can hide in plain sight as he marks down the time in his journal when you are leaving your third and last class of the day. He sits at the picnic benches outside the dining hall that are on the far side of the quad. From here, he can see almost all of the main campus. It also helps most of the building are comprised of large windows. He can watch you in your dorm building, right up to your floor until you disappear behind your door.

It’s up to him to imagine the rest of your routine as he walks back to his own dorm. The things you do when your doors are closed and you realize you’re alone again, your roommate spending the night with that quarterback boyfriend of hers.

He imagines everything. The way your backpack thuds and how you kick off your sneakers and leave them haphazard on the floor by the door. Your bra off in one fluid motion and tossed into your hamper without even having to look to see if it went in. You sit at your desk, and feed the pet fish you aren’t supposed to have. Naughty girl. You get started on your work right away. Getting the tedious chore out of the way so you can surrender yourself to your bed. Most people just give in to that temptation right away. Not you. You opt to sit incorrectly in your chair, and change from one obscure position after the other (that’s why your back hurts by the way, darling) until you’ve written your last discussion post and submitted the last paper. Then, you enjoy yourself. He imagines you might love your routines. He can put himself right there on the bed, paperback book folded in his hands that is ignored, because he’s so focused on you.

You’re someone whose routine involves a lot of walking back and forth. From the bathroom, to your dresser, to the bathroom again, to your vanity, to your closet, until you’ve successfully paced around the room enough times to spark the carpet. He’ll tease you, his own routine more carefully constructed and requires much less products- although he can imagine himself adding more once you share with him the things he should be doing.

You’ll walk around in your favorite little pair of pajama shorts- or better yet you might steal his boxers to sleep in. Paired with his shirt, and he’s enraptured with the way your chest strains the material. He thinks you’d look really cute with the towel wrapped around your hair fresh out of the shower, walking around the room brushing your teeth desperately looking for something that is never in the right place. Then the towel strewn over your desk chair and he watches intently as you care for your hair. And the way you apply lotion head to toe, and the way the sweet scent of it fills the whole room. You’d get shy when you finally notice he’s been looking at you. It’s so fucking cute. He can hardly stand not holding you when you look at him that way.

He’s probably screwed himself, not thinking about the side effects of using a scented lotion until after he’s finished, but he can’t even find it in him to care right now. His heavy breaths fill his room, and he needs to clean himself up. It’ll be fine. It was worth it, he thinks, to have something that smells like you to allow him to slip into his little fantasy. His whole room smells of strawberry and brown sugar, and he just wallows in the way the empty feeling in his stomach just makes him yearn for you. That time it all felt too fucking real.

His mind almost scares him, how the imagines he conjures up can become like memories. He knows they are a figment of his imagination, but sometimes that line between his false memories and his much more depressing reality becomes more and more blurred the more he dreams of you.

It finally happens the next time he’s outside having his lunch. He’s sitting under a tree in the quad, occasionally taking bites of his sandwich but the book he’s reading is taking up the majority of his attention. He’s gotten lost in the pages, and he doesn’t even remember the rest of the world exists until a shadow steps in front of the sun, blocking the light from hitting the pages he was engrossed in.

“I loved that book,” a voice says. He can hear the smile in your tone. You’re actually acknowledging his existence. He needs to give himself a pep talk before he can even bear to look up and face you.

“I o-only just started,” he says sheepishly, looking down- adamant on staring at a blade of grass in front of him.

“Cool,” you reply, “You need to tell me what you think of it, okay? See ya, Eddie.”

Eddie? No one in his life has ever called him Eddie. He detested being called Eddie until this exact moment. He hated the nickname, always thinking it was childish and demeaning. But not when you say it. It’s so sincere, and so nice the way the syllables fall off your lips. Just you. You are the exception to his disdain for it. He’ll be Eddie for you- your Eddie. Loyal, devoted, head over heels for only you Eddie.

He thinks about all the ways he wants to hear you call him that. In-between laughs, slapping his arm playfully when one of his jokes makes you laugh. A lighthearted chastising, your head tilted in skepticism as he tells you about all the elaborate plans he’s made for the future. A choked sobbed in surprise and excitement when he gets down on one knee. A breathy, whispered moan in his ear when he’s fucking you gently, pulling you apart, or a scream out in ecstasy when you’re begging him to let you cum- shit. He places the book on his lap, and pretends to check his phone while he waits for when he can get up. He groans at how painful it is, to not be able to have you now like how he wants.

It’s not like he makes it a habit to follow you. Sometimes, it’s a pleasant surprise when it happens all on it’s own. However, more often than not, it’s not up to chance. It’s a calculated, meticulous plan to execute the ideal rom com meet cute. You deserve that. The movie perfect romance where he, the right guy, magically is ushered in under quirky circumstances and somehow the meetings turn into feelings.

This is too Pretty in Pink, the god awful frat party in this huge house on campus. He still can’t believe he got in. But as luck would have it, roommate’s quarterback boyfriend needed a few passing assignments to keep from failing Calculus. And with that, Edward Nashton has somehow managed to score an invite to the biggest Halloween party of the semester- and of course, you’d be one of the many attendees. However, you don’t need an invite. You’re expected. These are your friends and you run in their circles. Also, any girl who shows up on this doorstep tonight is going to get in without a fret- no invite or name drop needed. He on the other hand needs to convince the two surly guys at the door he got an invite from their surly friend and after a while of back and forth they reluctantly let him in.

He’s elbow to elbow with tons of sweaty, gyrating strangers as he tries his best to navigate the house. The stairs, the hallways, every room is packed and the flashing lights also obscure his vision. There’s a deejay in the common room, the speakers blasting electronic music are making the floor vibrate. He is so out of his element, but he’s here for you. Because he’s a good boyfriend to you, and he goes places he doesn’t like but that makes you happy.

He’ll gladly hold your bags when you go shopping. He’ll think about everything you find important. Color, texture, finding the perfect things… he will wander with you for hours until you’re happy. He’ll absolve any worry. He will never tell you the rather poor shape of his finances at the moment, but it’s not important. Anything you want, he’ll let you just charge his card. You’re worth it.

Book stores. He knows how often you frequent them from the time you spend together, and the library- based on the barcodes on the pictures you post on your Instagram. He’s even got your card number memorized. He’ll bring you there, find a corner and just read together. You seem to be more into contemporaries, it will be a good balance. He tends to favor more classics himself but he’ll appease you and let you tell him about whatever book you just read- cover to cover, fuck spoilers. He just wants to watch the way talking about it excites you.

He hangs back, just resting his back against the wall. He still hasn’t seen you yet, but he’s content to wait, you too have all night. He watches as people dance and try to yell over the music. The flashes from cameras make his eyes hurt. He’s never observed a more self-absorbed crowd. They chug down whatever mystery concoction they have in their red cups and he hopes that you know better than to trust whatever is in there.

There’s puffs of smoke from a girl in leather pants and basically a top that might as well be a bra as she passes around a joint for her and her friends to share. It stinks up the whole house, and he just knows he’s going to reek of it. He looks down at his phone, trying to pretend he’s doing something. Anything to make himself look indifferent and not at all desperate and out of place. He’s not sure how well he’s doing.

You’re holding a can of something. You’re a smart girl to choose something here where you can break the seal yourself. You hold it in a way where your palm covers the open top as you let your friend weave the two of you through the crowd, giggling amongst yourselves. You look radiant when you’re like this. Happy and carefree from letting just a little bit of your inhibitions down. You work so hard, you deserve a little bit of fun. He just wished it wouldn’t be places like this. He doesn’t understand how everyone here can just keep to themselves when just you passing through the room disrupts the atmosphere. You smell like peach body mist, and it just hits him back against the wall when it wafts by him.

“Hi Eddie,” you giggle as your friend drags you past. You offer him a friendly smile, and hold up your High Noon as a wave he thinks. Either way, he couldn’t care less. You look so beautiful, and you smiled at him. You’re happy because of him. You’re happy he’s here. His chest puffs up slightly in pride, and he can feel himself naturally stand up a little bit straighter.

“I finished the book,” he calls after you, instinctively reaching into the inner pocket of his coat to take out his copy- to give you his annotated copy. By some miracle, you hear him. He can see your eyes light up, and you signal to your friend to go on without you.

“Did you like it?” you ask excitedly, shouting over the music, leaning in closer to hear him. His breath catches in his throat and he’s not sure he can muster up enough air to answer. He finally manages out a yes, and you look confused- clear you can’t hear him. “Let’s go outside!” you say over the music and point towards the kitchen. He gulps and nods, following your lead.

Crowds just seem to naturally part for you, and your presence is met with hellos and other greetings. You smile, and acknowledge each person who acknowledges you and you just make it look so effortless. He trails behind you closely, trying hard to not stare. You push open the back screen door, and there’s a small back porch. You’ve clearly been here before. He wonders what has brought you back here. A fight, a messy breakup, just needing air, or maybe it’s the stress you must feel being so obligated to make appearances. Either way, it’s a special place, and he’s so honored you’re sharing it with him.

“Much better,” you note, the sounds of the party muffled. “So you liked it?”

“Y-yeah,” he fumbles trying to take the copy out of his coat. He somehow manages to hand it over to you. “I uh, thought you’d want to look through my notes.”

“Cool,” you smile, “Definitely. Thanks.” You tuck it under your armpit, opting to give him your full attention. “What was your favorite part? Ah, none of my other friends are readers and I’m desperate to talk to someone about it!”

His brain short circuits when you say the words ‘I’m desperate’ out loud and he pretends to clear his throat. You also said ‘my other friends’ which clearly implies Eddie is a friend. That’s it? That’s okay, he tells himself. Good girls like you go slow, and he knows that you’re worth it.

“I really loved- uh, I underlined it,” he begins, and gestures to the book. You hand it over and he mumbles a small thanks, pushing his glasses up. He flips through the tabbed pages, and searches until he finds the right page.

“The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd – The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”

He looks up, and the way you are looking at him has him convinced you know. You know that quote pulled every single thought that he ever thought of you and put it there in black and white. The way he feels the tension between the two of you rise as a silent lull clouds gently over the two of you- like you’re the only two people here. Every painful reminder of the false memories he conjures feels like they are slipping away, and his mind is ready to make tangible ones with you- memories he can feel, and experience with all his senses.

“That’s one of my favorite passages too,” you muse, and he nods. He’s sure his face is as pink as your top that he’s just noticed how it fits so snugly around your chest just oh so perfectly- fuck are you even wearing a bra?

“Yea- uh..” before he’s able to even respond, the screen door creaks open and someone calls out your name. The interruption seems to startle you both slightly.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” the guy says poking his head out. Muscular, tall, backwards hat and a tank top with arm holes that almost reach the waist of his… ah, camo cargo shorts. Seriously, sweetheart, where do you even find these people? Oh, a mouth breather as well…

“No it’s okay, Chris, um,” you force a smile, and take a step back from him. Your attention now focused on the frat boy who looks like he’s trying his hardest to spark a thought by rubbing his two final brain cells together. “This is Eddie,” you say, introducing him, “We’re in a class together. We were just talking about a book we both read.” He purses his lips together and forces a closed lip smile toward this other person.

“Eddie, this is my boyfriend Chris.”

Boyfriend.

The large doofus has the audacity to just jerk his chin upwards as some form of acknowledging Edward’s existence, before he steps out onto the porch to press a kiss to your lips, and Edward feels like his entire world is just going to collapse in on himself at any moment.

How could you have a boyfriend? You made no attempt to see him these past weeks, or Edward would have seen. How could this major fucking road block not have reared it’s ugly head until now? You have a boyfriend, and it’s not looking like he’s going anywhere the way he’s snaking his arms around you from behind. You wiggle out of his grasp, not comfortable with the PDA which he can appreciate at least.

“Nice to meet you,” he manages to stutter out before sliding the book back into the inner pocket of his jacket. “I’m gonna be heading out soon anyways so-”

“It’s so early though!” you pout, “It’s too bad, but we’ll hook up at the next one, yeah?”

You have no idea how you’re able to take his breath away. It gets lodged in the back of his throat and he feels his cheeks redden. He knows what you mean, nothing sexual or physical by any means, but fuck- he could swear you do this on purpose. Your little innocent phrases with double meanings, and your suggestive stares, and just how fucking sweet you are.

“Y-eah, f-for sure,” he blushes, making his leave heading down the back stairs. He cuts across the back yard to his dorm building to call it a night.

You’re right that it was early, but there was no point in sticking around that cesspool of a house if you were just going to be tongue tied with that fucking guy for the rest of the night. He’d rather not see that. He needs to devise a new plan. A way for you to realize you’re wasting your time with this loser, and to realize that your Eddie has been there this whole time- patient and just ready to worship you if you only let him.

[starlightsearches]

for hand holding prompt: 12 and/or 13 w riddler maybe pls 🌷🎀💝

Affection Prompts—possessive hand-holding / linking hands together during sex

Mine

requests are always open / let me know what you think!

Edward Nashton x Femme! Reader

Warnings: 18+ only, PIV sex, shitty guys, possessive behavior, established relationship, language.

He'd never believe it, but there's so much you love about your boyfriend.

Like how you'd sent him a text to let him know you'd be home late, and now—hours later—he's waiting outside the door of your office, standing under the streetlight as rain drops collect on his too-big jacket.

You see him, and it's like your heart is fighting to hop out of your chest, desperate to greet him. God, he's too thoughtful, too sweet. He's not like any other guy you've met before.

You couldn't tell him that, though. Eddie would think it was a bad thing.

"Hi, honey," you greet him, pressing a kiss to his cool cheek. Your boyfriend's never been a fan of PDA—doesn't like how red his face gets whenever your lips touch his—but this is a fine consolation.

"Hello, dove." He presses one of his gloved hands forward, holding out a dark coffee to-go cup you hadn't noticed before. You can smell the contents, lashes fluttering a little in pleasure with the heavenly scent of chocolate.

"Seriously?" —you take the cup, already feeling the heat seep through your gloves— "you're the best, Eddie."

Your favorite cafe is a few blocks out of the way, but the hot chocolate is the best in the city. It's exactly what you needed after a day like today.

He flushes again, dipping his head to the ground until his glasses slip toward the end of his nose, shoulders drooping with the weight of your praise.

God. You want his dick down your throat.

Taking his empty hand instead, you start the chilly walk home. Gotham's never quiet—cars buzzing by and shouting from distant alleyways, but you and Eddie seem to travel in your own little world, speaking quietly about your days, plans for the weekend, sharing thoughts you'd kept to yourselves while you were apart.

You're almost back to your apartment when you notice Eddie shifting closer, arm pressed tight against yours. You don't have to ask why.

There's three of them headed your way—overgrown frat boys in collared shirts like they hit the bar straight from the office—laughing and jostling each other as if the whole street is their fucking living room.

You grip Eddie's hand tighter, keeping your eyes on your feet, praying they won't bump into you, won't notice either of you as they pass by.

But all the gods in Gotham must be busy, because nobody hears those prayers.

"Where you headed, beautiful?" It's the tallest of them who talks to you, smiling with too-white teeth and stinking of beer and sweat, his breath so sharp with the smell of alcohol it has to be flammable.

If you only had a match.

"Home," you answer curtly, trying to sneak past with Eddie in tow. His friends block your path, trapping you up against a long-empty storefront.

"Don't be like that, baby," he coos, trying to brush a hand down your arm before you pull away, "you should come with us. We could show you a real good time."

Eddie's shaking beside you. He tries to move in front of you without dropping your hand and you pull him back, catching his red-splotched skin and a vicious look in his eyes.

"I'm not interested," you say, "and my boyfriend and I would like to leave now."

"Boyfriend?" The man smiles wickedly, and you know what's coming before it happens, watching every moment with a painful double vision.

"This guy?" he laughs, and his friends join in a mocking chorus, "sorry buddy, I didn't even see you there."

He slaps Eddie harshly on the shoulder, looking down on him although Eddie's a few inches taller—and then they walk away.

Minutes pass before Eddie's ready to move. He stands there beside you with his eyes shut tight, stiller than stone except for his lips parting softly in the silence. You think he might be praying under his breath.

You walk the rest of the way without saying a word. Eddie's footsteps broadcast his thoughts well enough, growing heavier with each flight of stairs you climb before reaching your small apartment.

"Eddie, honey?"

He's dropped your hand, shrugging out of his jacket and journeying deeper into the apartment. In the half-light of the kitchen, he leans heavily on the counter, head hung low.

"Eddie," —he hardly moves when you slide up beside him, resting a hand over his own— "you know I love you, right?"

The look he gives you is ripe with hurt, threatening to spill over with every blink of his big, sad eyes.

"I'm serious. Do you really think I'd rather be with a guy like that?"

Eddie doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. Your heart fucking breaks—snapped right in half along the dotted line. He thinks you'd leave him. Like it wouldn't break you just the same.

"Honey . . . do you think a guy like that would care if I got home safe? Or go out of his way to pick up my favorite drink for me?"

That gives him pause. You take advantage of the gap in his armor, sliding between the place he stands and the table until your bodies are flush, wrapping your arms tight around his neck.

"Guys like that are selfish, Eddie," you whisper, trailing kisses down the side of his face, "he wouldn't treat me as well as you do."

Eddie shudders in your grasp. Your tongue just brushes the shell of his ear. "He couldn't touch me the way you do."

He's already breathless at the idea. "God, can I touch you?"

You guide his hands to your waist in silent permission. Eddie's grip is tight at the fabric of your skirt, nails digging at your hips when his urgent mouth meets yours, kissing you reckless. He's sloppy, impassioned—the way he normally gets when you both already have your clothes off and he can't pretend he has any self-control anymore. His tongue is past your lips when he stumbles backwards, pulling you along with him until his knees bump the couch.

And if this were a normal night, he'd sit down on the cushions before pulling you into his lap. On a normal night, you'd ride him, bouncing on his cock until there were tears on his cheeks and he was begging you to let him cum.

But things are different with this shot of confidence in his veins, because he guides you down onto the couch—hand at the back of your neck so you couldn't stop kissing him even if you tried—laying you down against the overstuffed cushions as he crawls on top.

"Can I?" he asks again, fingers already pulling haphazardly at the buttons on your top. Your mouth has gone dry. All you can offer is a nod.

And he's so sure of himself as bares your skin, mouthing at your neck until your own hands shake. He's so sure of himself, sliding down the zipper on your skirt, getting it out of his way, a warm hand between your thighs.

"Eddie," you whisper.

"Yes, dove?" His wet words hit right at your collar bone, and he peers up at you with big dark eyes from behind fogged glass.

You don't remember what you were going to say. Maybe something like I need you or fuck me, please or I think I'm in love with you, but nobody needs words in a moment like this. You slide your hand into the space between your bodies, slipping his belt from the buckle.

And he understands that perfectly.

You're still half-dressed, feeling dirty and desperate while Eddie grips at your breast over your bra, hyper-aware of his other fumbling hand pressing the hot tip of his cock against your hole.

Your back lifts from the couch, curved like a half-moon from that first, deep thrust, a low moan on your lips. Eddie pauses, fully seated inside you, and he curls one arm around your waist, holding you closer. His other hand travels the length of your arm, slipping his fingers between your own.

He keeps his eyes on yours, and you maintain the contact even though it feels like you're dying, like you won't live another second if he doesn't give you the pleasure that's been promised.

He lifts your hand to his mouth, presses his lips to the soft skin on the back of your hand. His lips are wet enough that the print turns cold when he pulls away.

"You're mine," he whispers. He leaves no room for argument.

And then he's thrusting so deep inside you it's changing the rhythm of your heart. He buries you against the old, over-stuffed cushions, hand squeezing yours and his teeth scraping along your neck, mouthing those same words until they're etched into your skin.

You're mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

[imagine--if]

heya!! i love ur soft yandere riddler imagines and was wondering if u could write general relationship hcs for eddie being full soft yandere with the reader 😍😍 thanks sm!

A/N: Soft!Yandere Eddie Nashton is perf I love him 💚

Pairing: Dano!Riddler x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: Mentions of violence and stalking, obsessive loving Riddler behaviour 🥰

•♡ I swear, once Edward's met you and had you pay attention to him and smile warmly... that's it. You've infected his mind forever, and he just has to have you

•♡ Before you start properly dating, there's gonna be Eddie familiarising himself with you through the internet and socials, then through hacked cameras here and there... he doesn't exactly want to invade your privacy, but he likes knowing your safe and seeing that beautiful face to light up his day

•♡ Everything about you is just so perfect and angelic to Edward Nashton, and it's a wonder to him that someone as pure and pretty as you has ended up amongst the scum and vermin in Gotham... but no, it makes sense, because he lives in Gotham too and you two were always meant to be!

•♡ Eddie's love is so deep and obsessive that it can even overwhelm him at times. Like, he'll be killing some thug who decided to get up in your face the other night in his Riddler gear, and the fantasy of you thanking him and hugging and kissing him for his work literally makes him hyperventilate under his mask, and he has to calm down or he'll end up passing out lmao

•♡ He'll be as patient as he can before deciding to make his love known to you, most likely by getting you to his apartment and pouring out his feelings so you'll be paying attention to him fully

•♡ So assuming that you don't reject the Riddler's affections, he'll be ecstatic, honestly can't believe it's happening, that he doesn't have to daydream and imagine you two being together like soulmates are supposed to be when you're right here, all his!!

•♡ Eddie's pretty touch-starved and hasn't had proper romantic relationships before you, so any ounce of affection you give him... he's an absolute mess, whimpering and whining as he nuzzles happily into your touch and moves against you when you stop because he loves the feeling

•♡ Especially if you're playing with his hair or running your fingers lightly up and down his skin, it makes him shivery and flushed

•♡ This guy's pretty vocal and doesn't bother trying to suppress the moans that escape him when you're kissing or cuddling tightly

•♡ Anyone would think you're doing... you know, something else, when all you've done is kiss him and he won't shut up lol

•♡ You know about everything with the orphanage, and when you tell Edward about yours, he sees it as a sign of trust and bonding and he's so giddy

•♡ You have Eddie's attention whenever you want it. As soon as you call his name softly when he's scribbling in a puzzle book, he'll look right up at you with hopeful eyes behind his glasses

•♡ He's really, really protective and quite possessive, so if anyone makes you uncomfortable in the slightest and he gets to hear of it, that person won't be alive the next morning, and a new video will be added to the Riddler's streams

•♡ The videos will be extra violent and tormenting since Edward is jealous and thoroughly annoyed by how the person dared to disrespect you, and the followers drink it up with comments like, "bitch thats what you get for messing with riddlers queen" and "kill the pig, worship the goddess 😍"

•♡ No joke there, they're as respectful to you as they are to the Riddler himself and so you've got random followers around Gotham that will willingly watch your back or do things at your or Eddie's request

•♡ The Riddler's followers have heard a lot about you (obviously), and are Edward's eyes and ears when he needs them to make sure you're okay when it gets late and you're out or not with him or something

•♡ I'm not joking when I say that he sees you as a completely ethereal, beautiful being, and the obsessive Polaroids and rambles in his journals and random items of clothing and trinkets around Ed's room of you proves his devotion and adoration

•♡ He reminds you a lot that everything he's doing, he's doing for you, because an angel such as yourself can't live in a nasty, dirty city, can they?

•♡ I feel like Eddie likes babying you sometimes, being all mushy and clingy, which usually occurs late at night or in the mornings, because he gets to wake you up with loving kisses and whispers or soothe you to sleep fondling you delicately

•♡ An example of babytalk is a bunch of pet names and rambling, like, "My darling, my angel, my muse... aren't you just perfect, sweetheart? You look in the mirror and tell me we don't fit together like little puzzle pieces together like this...! Of course we do!! Awh, you're smiling- keep smiling, always, for me-"

•♡ I was gonna continue but realised I was writing a long-ass paragraph so I'll stop with the dialogue for a sec lmao

•♡ There are times when you have to ask him to shift back a little when his face is literally in yours and you can't breathe hehe

•♡ He gets all blushy and apologetic, but he can't get enough of the warmth and softness and loves enveloping himself in you

•♡ Edward gets extremely agitated when he can't see or touch you for long periods of time, and loses his patience with anyone that isn't you easily until he can relax when you're back together

•♡ He loves teaching you how to solve puzzles and riddles and stuff, because when you do Ed sees it as really hot and your cleverness is gorgeous to him - you can bond over what he's known for and best at!! One more thing to bond over?? He's interested!

•♡ I suppose it could feel invasive at times when Eddie wants to be around you constantly and know as much as he can about your past and just every little detail about your heavenly self, but he doesn't want to be invasive, he just wants to be as close to you as possible

•♡ You're the only one that can calm him down when he's having a tantrum about a riddle gone wrong or an awful flashback or something, and Edward's always thankful and relieved when he's woken gently from nightmares and all

•♡ No one's ever loved him like this before, and he cherishes any bit of attention he gets from you like they're slices of heaven... because they are

•♡ Eddie tells you he loves you constantly, feeling the need to remind you through any means possible

•♡ "I love you, sweet baby... and you love me too, right? Mm... it makes me so happy when you say that- never stop saying that, ever, ever..."

•♡ So Edward being the soft yandere that he is would never hurt you physically or mentally because he hates the thought of that. He just wants to love and protect you forever, prove to the world you're meant to be and gives you anything and everything you want to show it 💚

Taglist:

@r3ptiliaaa @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowers @hxney-lemcn @confusedchildsstuff @phantomofthecathedral @sugahbabieexo @bokksieu @skateb0red @wilburrrsworld @philiasoul @darthcringe @felicityofbakerstreet @bloodypantomime @deadlights-darling @tianotfound @mortem-muse @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell

[lokis-army-77]

my new toxic trait is thinking that there will be new Paul Dano fics up every second of the day.

seriously tho, I have read through all of them.

[melodylovesklitzy]

What a Trip - Edward Nashton x F!Reader

Warning: Sexual Content, language

Word Count: 1.9k

Edward had betrayed you but you two still had a trip planned, you couldn't just let a perfectly good trip go to waste.

You and Edward had this planned for months, it was too late to back out now. The trip had cost the both of you quite a bit of money and you both were determined to go on the trip no matter what. When you had found out Edward had some kind of mistress the plan didn’t change. Edward had no idea how you had found out about the women, he had tried everything to hide her from you. He didn’t even know himself why he had the mistress, he blamed it on some feeling of wanting to have multiple people be completely in love with him. He had been crushed over your lack of affection since you found out, he understood why but he craved your touch more than anything. He promptly dropped the mystery woman and begged you to forgive him, but you didn’t listen. He gave you every excuse in the book and you were having none of it. 

“God Edward! Fuck off! Go fuck that other woman, clearly I wasn’t enough for you!” was a common sentence you said when the two of you would fight. 

You were kind enough to let him continue staying with you only with the rules of: he had to pay rent, he had to stay in the guest room, and he had to stay away from you. He didn’t really follow the last rule and took every opportunity to speak to you. He begged you to speak to him, he desperately needed to hear your voice. He missed hearing you praise him for little things, like keeping the apartment clean or getting the mail. Now you basically ignored everything he said to you, the only time you guys would talk is when you were yelling at him for cheating on you. 

He missed your voice so much, especially when you were praising him in between desperate whines and moans. God he could barely take listening to you at night, soft moans occasionally slipping out, some would be cut off with small screams. He knew you were stuffing yourself full with the toy he had bought you not too long ago. He had pressed his back against the wall closest to your room and had a hand around his cock desperately thrusting into it imagining it was you or your mouth. His hand was placed on his mouth, trying so hard to keep the noises in but some would slip out on accident. You knew he was doing it, you knew you shouldn’t enjoy it but you did. You enjoyed the power you had over him, you knew he loved you and wanted to be close to you, but something in your brain couldn’t let you forgive him.

However you also did love him, you wanted to be close to him, god you wanted him to fuck you again. Edward was very inexperienced, the only experience he had was from you and god he was a quick learner. He knew you like the back of his hand and would do anything in his power to have you screaming in seconds. You would sometimes moan his name softly hoping he wouldn’t hear but oh would he hear. He thrived on those moments, hearing you moan his name gave him the small bit of confidence to talk to you constantly, and you secretly enjoyed it. The two of you had been like this for months, you hadn’t filed for divorce, neither of you had the strength to fully leave each other. 

Months passed and the day of the trip showed up quicker than the both of you thought it would. You had plans to spend most of your time on the bench, trying to soak up the glorious sun. That had all changed the moment you walked into the hotel room. You had changed the booking to be a two bedroom but the hotel must have messed something up because when you walked in you saw Edward awkwardly standing in front of the single bed, he looked like he was debating with himself on what to do. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Edward spun around quickly to look at you, he was taken aback by your statement.

“What? No of course not, if anything I’d take the couch.”

“I don’t care who takes what Edward, as long as we’re not next to each other I don’t care.”

God would you eat those words later.

You had set your suitcase down, taking out the bikini you had packed so you could go to the beach. You had plans to lay in the sun that were calling your name and you desperately needed to get away from Edward. His green eyes watched your figure move across the room, from the far side where you had decided to lay your stuff to the opposite side where the bathroom resided. He tried to distract himself, he did, he had packed a good book that he was reading. He was hoping to finish it over the trip, he hadn’t even gotten half way through the first page when you came out of the bathroom in your tiny forest green bikini. God the color perfectly matched his riddler suit, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to a dark place as his pants grew tighter. You walked back across the room to your suitcase, bending down to shuffle through the continents of the bag. When you bent down he could see a slight outline of your pussy and even a bit of it due to the lack of material in the area. God he could feel himself whimper at the sight.

“I’m going to the beach, don’t call.”

With that you walked out the hotel room, leaving with his imagination and his hand.

When you came back to the room, it was empty. You assumed Edward had left until you started to hear sounds in the bathroom, the sounds of a woman’s moans hit you straight in the chest, in your heart. You thought he loved you and yet here he was. On YOUR guys trip, fucking another woman. Tears had begun to form in your eyes as you ran to the other side of the room, trying to grab things as quickly as you could until you heard your own voice, and a moan of your name. Curiosity got the better of you and you peaked your head into the cracked bathroom door, the room was dark except for the light from a laptop that rested on the bathroom counter. The laptop displayed a video of you and Edward fucking, you had remembered recording it but didn’t think Edward still had it. The light from the laptop perfectly lit up Edward’s face, which was scrunched. His eyes were tightly shut and his mouth was hanging open, soft moans were leaving his mouth. One hand was gripping the edge of the counter while the other was gliding up and down his cock. You could tell he was close from his body language, like his trembling legs, unstead hand moments, and even him softly saying “god i’m gonna cum, gonna cum for you baby. Wanna cum all over you y/n.” You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t say it had turned you on. 

You backed away from the door slightly, wondering what to do when you had froze in your spot. 

“Come on princess, I know you’re there, help me out would you?”

You didn’t think twice before pushing the bathroom door and flipping the lights on. There Edward stood, staring at the ceiling, slowly dragging his hand across his cock. His pants pooled on the floor and on his feet, the laptop laid open on the counter but the video was paused. You carefully stepped further into the bathroom, and slowly sunk to your knees in front of the man. You lifted your hand to meet his cock and wrapped your fingers around him, he looked down at you. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you began to move your hand up and down his shaft, starting at a slow pace. He gave you a small smirk before letting out a soft moan and looking back up at the ceiling. He had removed his hand from himself and placed it in your hair, making a makeshift ponytail from the locks he grabbed. He lightly pushed you forward, and you got the hint, taking him into your mouth and moving up and down quickly. His groans increased in volume and a few words that consisted of your name and “fuck so good” also fell from his lips. You roughly pulled you back from his cock by your hair and yanked you up to be standing in front of him. The man didn’t have a ton of upper body strength and yet somehow he managed to lift you into his arms and carry you to the single bed in the room.

“You don’t wanna sleep in the same bed? Such a shame, good thing I didn’t plan on having either of us sleep tonight.”

He pulled the bikini cover off your body and then roughly pushed the bottoms to the side. He lightly ran his finger between your folds before grabbing himself and lining himself up with you. He slowly pushed into you, moaning at the warmth that surrounded him. He quickly set a pace with you, thrusting in and out, making you borderline scream his name and drag your nails along his back. He had buried his head into your shoulder and let out heavy pants, along with moans of your name and how good you felt around him. His hand moved from the side of your head to your bikini top, moving it to the side and uncovering one of your tits. He moved his head from your shoulder and quickly took your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. You moaned at the feeling, everything began to build up. The pleasure was too much and it had you cumming around him, but he didn’t stop. He continued to thrust into you and suck on your boob, quickly removing the cover of the other and moving to the other one. The overstimulation had you cumming again in no time, but yet Edward still didn’t stop. This continued several more times, you had lost count of how many times you had cum after the 4th one. It had been hours by this point and Edward had only came 3 times at max. The man was determined to fuck you until you were brain dead, and he was getting close to that point.

By the time had had finished fucking you your legs might as well have been jelly. You couldn’t move them and Edward had to reposition your body to a comfortable lying position. He snuggled in beside you after cleaning you and him up as well as tucking you into the bed. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest. The man truly did love you, and unfortunately for you, you loved him too.

[danowh0re]

Could you do Percy Dolarhyde gifs or mood board for him <3

Hereeee<3

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐇𝐘𝐃𝐄

Cowboys & aliens gifs

[owltime-cos]

Calvin Weir-Field x Trans!Male Reader

Warnings: dysphoria, reader is on his period, heavy period, fluff

(A/N: I have not written in a very very long time. I’m sorry if this is bad, I tried! I hope some people enjoy it! P.S. I’m writing this on a phone, so sorry if it looks off)

__________________

Calvin was getting ready for another one of Langdon parties. Did he want to go? No, not really. “Honey, what shirt do you think is better?” He called out to you, going downstairs holding two of the same button up shirts in a different color.

When you didn’t answer, he frowned looking at the couch. “Honey?” Calvin said as he walked over to you, seeing you lay with Scotty in your arms. “Hey, why aren’t you getting ready? We have to go soon.” Calvin said, confused as he just put on one of the shirts.

You shrug, not looking at Calvin. You didn’t wanna tell him that you started your period and that you basically felt like you were gonna throw up both of the pain and dysphoria.

Calvin sighed and ran a finger through his hair, “Baby.. I can’t read your mind. Tell me what’s going on.” He said, sitting down next to you. “..period..” you mumbled, holding Scotty a little tighter who in return nuzzled close to you. Calvin took a second to process it, before realizing what you meant. “Oh.. and it’s bad?” He said softly.

“No shit Sherlock, my body is punishing me for not being pregnant while actively reminding me that I wasn’t born with a dick.” You mumble, sighing before sitting up slightly, causing Scotty to leave the couch and scurry off somewhere else. “I also just have really bad periods, so I’m also in just… so much pain..” you started tearing up, trying to hide it a little by putting your face in your hands. You felt Calvin sitting closer to you, “..Do you want to be held?” He says softly.

You nod, trying not to sob as you feel Calvin pull you carefully into his arms. Your attempt at not crying failed miserably because as soon as your head laid against him, you started sobbing. Wrapping your arms around his waist. “Shhh.. it’s okay.” Calvin softly whispered, a little awkwardly as he wasn’t sure how to handle this. He carefully wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly. “Let it out..”

“I-I’m sorry..” you mumble as you’re slowly calming down. “What? No.. no don’t apologize.” Calvin said quickly. “But you-.. you wanted to go to that party thing-“ you start, looking up at Calvin. “No- honey. To be honest.. I really didn’t wanna go in the first place. But now, I have more important business. Making sure you don’t feel absolutely miserable.” He said softly, massaging your scalp slightly.

“I just.. it sucks. There are no words to how I feel.” You say, starting to tear up again. “I’m in so much pain, and if that isn’t bad enough.. I’m also just reminding I was born the way I was..” tears falling down your face are wiped away by Calvin, who’s just listening. He wasn’t gonna pretend like he could ever get it. All he could do was be here for you, like you’re there for him. “It doesn’t matter how you were born.. you’re still my beautiful boyfriend.” Calvin said with a small smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Have you taken any painkillers yet?” He asked softly, looking at you again.

You shake your head. “No, my back hurt too much to walk..” you mumble, sighing slightly. Calvin nods softly, “how about this.. I call Langdon that I’m not coming while I get you some painkillers and then we can cuddle and I’ll read to you. How about that?” He smiles softly.

You nod, smiling softly. “Thank you..” you mumble softly. Calvin smiles and kisses your cheek, “I’ll be right back.” He says as he carefully lets you go, giving you a few extra kisses at the same time, before going to grab you some painkillers and call Langdon that he has a much more important thing to take care of.

[lovelybunn]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⟡ ⋆｡˚ㅤㅤ𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 .

*requests OPEN!

꩜ ㅤsouth park m.list

꩜ ㅤpaul dano m.list

꩜ ㅤhaikyuu m.list

꩜ ㅤmandela catalogue m.list

꩜ㅤ welcome home m.list

꩜ ㅤdhmis m.list

꩜ ㅤtf2 m.list

RULES, MUST READ BEFORE REQUESTING.

[forkgirl]

𓆩♡𓆪

'*•.¸♡ welcome to my blog ♡¸.•*'

here i will write headcanons, drabbles, and maybe even the occasional fic for any of the fandoms listed below!

team fortress 2

danoverse characters (most)

ace attorney (trilogy, AJ, DD, SOJ)

any batman character (excluding batfam, sorry)

this list will expand! these are just my main current interests!

now onto what i WILL write…

nsfw

yandere

angst

- basically all of that fun stuff. go crazy in my ask box!

what i will NOT write

anything pedophilic

incest

character x oc/character x character - this blog is for everyone!

anyways.. requests are OPEN!

[fraudvhs]

Very late but here’s sum riddler n alex I’ve been doodling for a while!

[burgerlabs]

BTW I MADE THIS EDIT AND IT FOT LIKE 200 LIKES ON INSTAGRAM (@ conkacola) SO IT BETTER DO GOOD HERE

[starlightsearches]

Truth or Dare

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (WIP)

Part 3 is finally here! Hopefully we all haven't forgotten about this one 😬 comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

Klitz x femme reader

Warnings: fake dating, language, sexual references

Not thinking about Klitz has been harder than you anticipated. 

It’s not just that he was sweet enough to pay for your popcorn and drink—even though you’re the one who invited him—or the way he went still every time you pressed your face into his shoulder when the candy-red fake blood started to splash across the screen. It wasn’t just the burn in your stomach as he walked you to your door—the thought of him trying to kiss you at the front of your mind and the turmoil deciding whether or not you’d let him. It wasn’t just the sinking feeling when you’d watched him walk away after an adorably awkward hug initiated by him and the chaste kiss you’d pressed to his cheek. 

No—instead you keep thinking about the way his eyes caught the light of the movie screen behind his glasses, dark green with streaks of golden brown, and the curve of his smile. You’re thinking about his long, lean fingers gripping the back of your seat when he’d pulled out of the parking spot, about the slightest hint of muscle you could trace beneath his sleeve. And you need that gone ASAP.

Sitting in the scorching sun in Amber’s backyard, you’ve emptied your head of everything but the smell of chlorine and sunscreen and your brain’s soupy remains. You’re almost at peace. You’ve just about burned it all away.

And then there’s a splash and the shock of cold water as Tyler shoves you from off the float, and all of that peace is gone. 

You splutter when your head breaks back through the water, hair dripping stinging chlorine into your eyes.

“Ugh, seriously? You asshole!” You swing at him, barely grazing skin as he dances out of your reach.

Tyler gives you a shit-eating grin, splashing some more water in your direction. 

“What’s your deal?”

You’ve never liked Tyler. He’s one of Luke’s friends—always loud and obnoxious, taking every joke too far. Amber only let him hang around her because his parents had a hot tub in their backyard and never lock their liquor cabinet. She’s lounging on one of the daybeds now, sipping from a Starbucks iced coffee and working on her tan. You swim in that direction, lifting yourself out of the pool by the ladder and yanking your towel from one of the empty chairs. 

“Ignore her, Tyler,” she says, “she’s just mad her date last night didn’t go the way she wanted.” 

You shoot her a wide-eyed warning look, and she just smiles back, too bright. You’d purposely avoided the topic with her, hoping she might forget after a few non-committal nods and a swift change of subject. She spent most of the morning spewing bullshit theories about how he spent the night after your date, and you laughed half-heartedly, waiting for her to run out of steam.

But it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen any time soon. 

“Oooooh, a date?” Tyler swims to the edge, jumping from the pool and you grit your teeth. The last thing you wanted was his full attention. “Did you and Luke get back together?”

“God, no,” you say, glancing at Amber one last time, hoping she might offer something since she’s the one who brought it up. She’s not even looking at you, sipping pointedly from her drink. 

You plop down on one of the chairs, adopting the most casual tone you can manage. “I went and saw a movie with that guy, uh, Tim.”

“Tim who?” Tyler’s walking on his hands across the edge of the pool. You just barely resist the urge to plant a single, solid kick to his chest. 

You sigh instead, bracing yourself. “Tim Klitz.”

He almost falls into the pool on his own, scrambling back to his feet. “Holy shit. Are you serious?” Tyler snatches the towel from your hands, throwing it over his shoulder, on his knees at your side. “You went on a date with Tim Klitz? Glasses? Bowl Cut? Oh my god, did he pay you?”

“No.” You take the towel back, maybe just to cover the heat in your cheeks, “I asked him.”

Tyler looks like you just said you really enjoy the taste of pool water. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to,”—true or not, you still say it, and whatever you say to Tyler, you say to everybody— “he sits behind me in English and he’s nice and since I’m single now . . .”

Tyler actually looks thoughtful for the first time in his life. “Damn . . . Luke’s gonna be pissed when he finds out.”

“I don’t care if Luke shits himself when he finds out—he’s not my boyfriend anymore.” 

That, at least, is true. 

The thoughtful look on Tyler's face is immediately gone, replaced with a shitty little grin. “Yeah, now you and Klitzy are gonna get it on.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s something hidden in your voice. “He’s not my boyfriend either.” 

“When are you going to see him again?” Amber finally decides to cut in, pushing her sunglasses up over her nose and into her hair.

You hadn’t thought you would see him again. The date was fine, of course . . . maybe even more than fine, but you never really expected to go out with him again, regardless of the “plan” Amber had initially outlined. One date to get Amber off your back was harmless. A second would be on the verge of cruel.

You shrug one shoulder, and fake some nonchalance. “I don’t know.” 

She flips over onto her stomach, pillowing her head on the backs of her hands. “Just call him up right now.”

“Uh, now?” you ask with an awkward laugh, sparing a glance in Tyler’s direction. You can hear the little warning signals in your brain pinging when you notice how closely he’s watching, “there are easier ways to get rid of me, you bitch.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” she says, “you’ve been moping all day and you obviously want to see him again, so just call him up.”

Biting the inside of your cheek is the only way you can keep yourself quiet. You hadn’t been moping all day—she’d purposely misread your silence as sulking, just because you didn’t want to make up shit she could use to get a laugh at Klitz’s expense.

You know Tyler’s still watching you, and Amber’s got a smug look on her face that says you fell right into her trap. You had no excuse to get out of it; the only plans you’d had for today were with her, and she seemed plenty willing to cancel. If you blew off this chance, Tyler would think that the date was just a lost bet or a joke. If that got back to Luke he’d brush it off, sure it was a desperate ploy to get his attention, and if it got back to Klitz . . . 

“Actually, Amber, that’s a great idea.”

You reach for your phone, walking to the shadier part of Amber’s backyard so neither of them could hear your conversation, and it does start to feel like every step you take is lifting a weight from your chest. You don’t know if that’s because it’s bringing you closer to Klitz or further from Amber and her bitchy attitude. 

The dial tone sounds in your ears—its steady, measured rhythm cut off after a few rings—but there’s no greeting from the other end of the line. Instead, the speaker is filled with fuzzy static and a chorus of quiet, overlapping voices. You recognize Klitz’s voice easily enough. The others must be Eli and Matt.

Whatever chaos is happening on the other end goes quiet. “Hello?”

“Hey, Klitz?” You do your best to ignore the little thrill that comes from hearing his voice again—his tone sweet and buzzing with nerves. 

“Uh, yeah, hey.”

“Hey, so listen,” you shift the phone in your hand, trying to shield the speaker from picking up Amber’s screams as Tyler threatens to throw her in the pool, “I’m such an idiot and I totally forgot that we have the fucking Shakespeare final on Monday, and I haven’t even started studying. I was flipping through the study guide Ms. Hurst gave us and the thought of going through it all alone was actually painful, so I was maybe wondering if you’d want to study for it together?”

“Uh, sure,” he says, voice ripe with disbelief. He must get some coaching from his friends, because he doubles down on his acceptance, “yeah, actually, that would be great.”

“Okay, awesome. Are you free right now?”

“Well, I don’t—” there’s static again on the other end of the line; you can just make out Eli’s high-pitched shouting, “I mean, yeah. I can be free.”

“Cool. Would it be okay if I came over to you?”

“Sure. I’ll see you . . . soon.”

Klitz is just lucky he’s a fairly neat person.

He’d raced here from Eli’s house, taking the stairs to his room two at a time. Grabbing fistfuls of clothes off the floor came first—shoving basketball shorts he used as pajamas and a few suspiciously stiff t-shirts into his laundry hamper before forcing it inside the closet. He’d taken out the trash by his bedside next, hidden the tissues and lotion in his night stand. The Victoria’s Secret magazines he’d stolen from the mail before his mom could notice went in the shoe box underneath his bed—just in time for your knock on the door.

Klitz has never run this much in his life. Bounding down the stairs, he manages to reach the door before his mom could call out, or god forbid, get it herself.

He finds you standing on his porch, looking like a punch to the gut.

You’ve got so much skin—still glistening from the time you’ve spent in the sun—bare thighs stretching from the hem of your shorts, the deep v-neck of your t-shirt exposing the cups of your black bikini top and the plush skin of your tits. You’ve tied the strings at the back of your neck in a sweet little bow, and he fights the itch in his fingers to reach for one of those strings and pull.

He isn’t going to need those magazines any time soon . . .

Klitz pulls his eyes back to your face with some superhuman effort, feeling his cheeks go red. You’re smiling at him, scuffing the tip of your flip flop against the welcome mat. 

“Hi.” There’s no way you didn’t notice him staring, but the giggle in your greeting tells him that you didn’t necessarily mind.

“Hey,”—he overcompensates, regardless, looking anywhere but you as he steps out of the doorway, “uh, come in.” 

“Thanks. I hope I don’t smell like chlorine; I was just at Amber’s pool when I remembered the test and I didn’t want to drive all the way home to change when you’re so close by.” 

“That’s okay.” He should be thanking you, really, but all he can think about is popping the button on your shorts, shimmying the denim down over your thighs, running his hands under the hem of your shirt as you wrap your arms around his neck, straddling his lap . . .

You slip your sandals off and that feels like a safe place to look—white-painted toenails and the faded, woven bracelet tied loosely around your ankle. His hands would fit there so well, tasting the coconut sunscreen you’d massaged into your thighs, warm and soft. 

Klitz bites down hard enough on the inside of his cheek to taste blood. 

“So should we—”

“Oh yeah,”—shit, you’ve got this wicked spark in your eyes when he looks at you. Now you’d think he has a weird thing for feet— “uh, my room is just—”

“Tim, honey, who’s at the door?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His mom peers her head around the corner from the kitchen, flour in her pale brown hair and covering the front of the old Winnie the Pooh apron he bought for her a few Mother’s days back. 

Her face lights up when she sees you—Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree bright, smiling so wide he almost expects to see tears in her eyes.

“Tim,” she says, practically breathless with surprise, “I didn’t know you were having a friend over.”

God, she looks stunned—wide-eyed—turning to Klitz for an explanation that he can’t offer except that maybe you’re performing some kind of community service.

He wonders when he’ll get past this—if people will ever stop staring when they see you with him, if he’ll ever be able to see one of those looks without going no, really, she’s mine. He wonders if he could ever believe it himself.

“Hi, Mrs. Klitz,” you turn on the charm immediately—to your credit—offering your name with a friendly wave, and his mom just gushes, telling you to call her Janey, reaching for you with open arms and the gentle warning that I’m a hugger. He wants to disappear into the floor.

It’s not like Klitz is embarrassed by his mom—they’ve always been close, especially since it’s been just the two of them after Stacey left for Harvard a couple years ago—but he had hoped this could have gone differently. He’d have liked to let his mom know that you were coming, first off, and maybe warned her against the hugging. 

The first time he introduced you to his mom, he’d hoped it would be as his girlfriend.

It’s stupid, and naive, but still . . . 

You’re going on about AP lit, your plans for after graduation and all the colleges you applied for, and his mom is just eating it up, like she’s about to suggest you ditch her son to spend the afternoon with her, and the way you talk sounds like you might take her up on the offer.

“Anyways,” Klitz jumps in before that could happen, “we should probably get started on studying.” 

To her credit, his mom reads the look he gives her loud and clear. “Right, right—of course. Have fun!”

“Will do,” you answer, offering his mom one last smile, “it was nice meeting you, Janey.” 

She heads back into the kitchen with a flattered giggle, and you climb the stairs only a few steps behind Klitz, following him into his room. He presses the door shut behind him with a soft click, wondering if you, too, can only hear the sound of his breathing.

He’s never had a girl over before, not in his house, and definitely not in his room. He watches you take in the space with an inscrutable expression, and he desperately wants to know what you’re thinking, wants an itemized list of every reaction you’re having to his space and what caused it. The Star Wars posters, the plain blue bedspread his mom got him from Target—he needs to know what it’s telling you about him, and he needs to know if you like it.

“Your mom is sweet,” you say, sitting down on the edge of his mattress with a chorus of squeaky springs. He presses his sweaty palms against his slacks, trying to look in your eyes and not at your crossed legs.

You came over to study, he reminds himself, to study.

“Uh, yeah,” he coughs, “yeah, she is.” He takes a step towards the desk chair, but his ears are ringing, filled with the sound of Eli’s voice calling him a pussy, and in an uncharacteristically brave move, he falls to the bed beside you.

And you don’t say a word about it, leaning back on your elbows like you hang out on his bed together every day of your life. 

“So . . .  do you have the study guide?”

And it’s all . . . easier than he thought it would be. There’s no awkward silence, no fumbling from his end—he even manages to make you laugh a few times, bringing up some mildly-funny incidents that had happened in class, almost like the two of you have inside jokes.

It’s strange that in all his day-dreams, sitting behind you in class, wondering what it would feel like to have you notice him, to spend any amount of time with you, he never thought it could be so . . . comfortable.

The study guide is limp in his hands, flipped to the last page. It had only taken around an hour to cover all of the material, but you haven’t even hinted that you might want to leave, resting on your hip with your head cupped in one hand, nose scrunched up in laughter at something he’d just said.

It would be too easy for him to kiss you like this. You’re not that far from where he sits with his legs crossed—he could span the distance by just bending at the waist, could shift onto his stomach if you pulled him in closer, could rest his weight on top of you and bury you against his mattress.

“Klitz?”

There’s nothing he can do to stop himself from blushing. “Sorry, what’d you say?”

You haven’t stopped smiling at him. It’s kind of freaking him out. “I just wanted to know if you have an idea for the essay question?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Klitz shrugs, “I was thinking maybe one of the sonnets. What about you?”

“Probably Romeo and Juliet.”

He can’t help but make a face. “Really?”

You bring your brows together. “You didn’t like it? That one was my favorite.”

Klitz knew that already. He knew because you’d mentioned it when you volunteered to read for Juliet, and he remembered because he thought about volunteering for Romeo’s part—maybe hoping that some of your love for the play would rub off on him. He’d chickened out, though, spent the class listening to some other guy tell you you looked like the sun when he didn’t even know what that meant. So maybe the play is a little sour in his mind.

“I just—” he sighs, “I mean it’s really sad, right? They both, you know, die, and it’s not like they were actually in love with each other or whatever. They only knew each other for like a couple weeks, and they were both kids . . .”

“That’s what I like about it,” —you’ve shifted towards him, leaning on both elbows so you can look him in the eye. From this angle, he could glance down the front of your top if he wanted, might even be quick enough that you wouldn’t notice, excited as you are, but his gaze is trapped in yours— “maybe they’re not in love with each other—but they’re in love with the idea of love. That’s what makes them break the boundaries. It was the only thing strong enough to end the feud between their parents. It’s a tragedy, but it’s also about the ways love can save us.” 

Klitz hums. It’s weird hearing you talk about something he’s had the barest experience with. He knows he loves his mom and his sister, and he loves his friends—even though they’re kind of dorks—but that’s not the kind of love you’re talking about. You’re talking about the kind of love that makes his palms sweat and his glasses fog at the edges. 

“Have- do you think you’ve ever been in love?” He swallows, knowing you must be thinking about Luke. The study guide has turned a darker blue where he grips it. 

“I don’t know . . . I guess not; if you’re in love you’d probably have to know it. Have you?”

He drops his eyes from yours, maybe so you won’t see how thrilled he is by your answer. “No.”

“Hmmmm. Well, when it happens,”—there’s the soft shifting sound of the comforter beneath you as you slide your hips forward— “you’ll have to tell me about it.”

You’re so close, and it’s a kind of close you’ve chosen, bright eyes on his before they wander down the slope of his nose, over his rounded cheeks, landing on his lips. Klitz swallows harshly because he knows what that means and he’s still so fucking afraid, heart on its way out of his chest, stomach roiling like he’s gonna puke the organ right out his mouth and hold it still-beating in his open hands.

“Oh.”

You rip away from him just as he was about to push forward, and he turns instead to the now-open door, his mom standing there with her hand still on the door knob and her mouth shaped into a surprised little o.

“Mom.” Jesus Christ, he wants to kill himself. Out of all the times she could forget to knock.

“Sorry honey,” she laughs, rapping her knuckles lightly against the door, way too late, “I just wanted to let you know that there’s cookies out of the oven, if you wanted to come down and get some, or I could bring them up—”

“You don’t have to do that, Janey,” you cut in casually, calm where Klitz is flustered, “we can come grab them.”

“Okay, perfect. Well, I don’t want to interrupt your studying, so I’ll just, um, I’ll just go now.” She steps back through the gap in the door, leaving it conspicuously open behind her.

That gap is mirrored between the two of you; Klitz doesn’t know how to get that closeness back.

He clears his throat, and decides to start with something easy, sliding his hand across the mattress until his pinky just brushes against yours. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” you’re trying to smile at him, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, “it’s just—”

He’s waiting for it. Waiting for you to say I think we should just be friends. 

But those aren’t the words that come out of your mouth. “I really like you, Klitz, but I just got out of a really long and kind of messed up relationship. I’d need to . . . take it slow.”

You press your hand on top of his, squeezing a little at his fingers.  

“Slow?” Klitz asks, little rivulets of hope streaming through his chest. It’s not what he wants, but it’s something.

“Is that okay?” 

You catch your lip in between your teeth, watching him with apprehensive eyes. Klitz just nods. He wonders whether a kiss would fall within the bounds of taking it slow. 

There’s no chance for him to find out; you stand, bouncing a little on the balls of your feet.

“Are you hungry? I’m fucking starving. Let’s go get something to eat.”

[imagine--if]

hiii 💚 can i request a hc/blurb with dano!riddler where his s/o has to get used to falling asleep with eddie practically smothering her with cuddles and kisses and sweet words - because i feel like that's something he can't help doing 🥺🥺

A/N: I so can because yes he can't help himself 😍

Pairing: Dano!Riddler x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: Fluff and Eddie stuff, little bit suggestive hehe 🥰

• For starters, Edward just loves it when he finds you curled up in a sleepy heap on the couch, because he gets to gently scoop you up and take you to bed and it's just so heartwarming 💚

• He adores and obsesses over literally everything you do, so if you're tired and stuff, he will kind of try to calm it down a bit and make sure you can relax... but Edward usually falls asleep after you have first

• You'll be wrapped up tightly in his arms under the covers and his face will be right next to yours, cheek to cheek as he kisses your skin and mumbles and whispers sweet little praises as you doze off

• By this point you've most likely learnt to fall asleep with Ed doing that lol, it's a habit he likes and it won't change any time soon 🤗

• Sometimes it can get you flustered when he's a little too excited and the sounds of him breathing shakily and smooching you right in your ear is just- 😳💕

• I'm not even kidding when I say that at those times, when you're really tired, you'll have to be like, "Eddie, I love you, but I can't sleep with you moaning and whispering in my ear..." 😂😂

• But physical affection is one of the main ways Eddie shows his love for you, and at quiet, intimate times like the night, he finds himself in disbelief that you're really with him and his cruel riddle of a life is so much sweeter 🥺

• He'll be sure to tell you this too, but before you drift off to sleep, Edward will coo soft, comforting things like "Rest now, my angel, nothing can hurt you here, you're safe, I'll always protect you... I love you forever...!"

• Edward Nashton cannot sleep unless you're there beside him in bed, tucked up in his embrace peacefully

• He'll make sure you aren't overworking yourself late into the night and picks you up to take you to bed when it gets too late 😌

• Nights are one of the best parts of the day for him, and waking up to see your beautiful face in the morning is just as perfect 😇

• You've woken up a number of times to see him staring at you with a lovestruck smile on his face that would be kinda creepy if it wasn't, you know, Edward 😏

●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●

"Eddie," You mumble sleepily, blinking up at him as he stares at you attentively with wide, adoring green eyes. The smile already on his lips tugs into a wider one at the nickname, and he nuzzles in closer, humming.

"Hmm?"

"I love you," you remind him with a slight laugh, and Edward grins giddily at your words, "but I can't really sleep when you're doing that really close and stuff..."

Ed giggles, glancing down bashfully before looking back up at you.

"Oh- no, I'm sorry," he coos earnestly, pressing another delicate kiss to your cheek. "I just can't help it sometimes, my love. You're so enchanting. And you look so beautiful when you're sleeping."

"So sleep with me," you smile, pulling his frame down to hug you properly, and he eagerly shifts to trap you in his arms, resting his head in the crook of your neck with a content sigh. "We can be beautiful together."

"No one will ever be as beautiful as you, my sweet angel," he whispers as he cradles you to his chest, and you relax into the cuddle with a lazy smile. "Good night."

"Night, Eddie."

Taglist:

@r3ptiliaaa @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowers @hxney-lemcn @confusedchildsstuff @phantomofthecathedral @sugahbabieexo @bokksieu @skateb0red @wilburrrsworld @philiasoul @darthcringe @felicityofbakerstreet @bloodypantomime @deadlights-darling @tianotfound @mortem-muse @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell

[lokis-army-77]

Sorry but I don't care how toxic Joby Taylor is. I would let him do despicable things to me.

[plentyoffandoms]

Me watching The Girl Next Door.

"I still love Klitz"

[fayelec]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

who i write for

will add more in the future

paul dano characters (discontinued)

edward nashton + dwayne hoover

f1 drivers

carlos sainz, charles leclerc, max verstappen, lando norris, mich schumacher

footballers

jude bellingham , joao felix , mason mount, richarlison, martin odegard, jamal musiala

jjk characters

suguru geto, saturo gojo, ryomen sukuna, toji fushiguro, kento nanami, megumi fushiguro, choso