#paul dano x reader

[pictureinme]

kinktober day xxii. VOYEURISM – edward 'riddler' nashton

idea from my lovely bf xoxo @standloser word count: ~1.2k tags: both pervy eddie & reader, male masturbation, teasing, somewhat exhibitionism, and they were co-workers masterlist | ao3

Edward’s breath catches at the sight of your bare shoulders– watching from beyond the crack of the locker room’s door. You had just finished your weekly visit to your office building’s gym– a place Edward didn’t even know existed until he decided he wanted to ‘accompany’ you on your way out of work.

You tended to be alone in your late-night excursions here, and that’s what you preferred– time to decompress after getting chewed out by your shared dimwit boss. You and Edward had adjoining desks on the same level at KTMJ, working the numbers of Gotham. The two of you had never actually exchanged words, but you always remembered his coffee order when it was your turn to pick it up– that was more than enough to get him hooked.

His eyes would always dart over your desk, taking in all of the knick-knacks and post-its that cluttered the space– Edward would smile to himself at how easy it was to figure out what you’re like, all while you were none the wiser. All your little intricacies were on full display for him, and, well, you were never the most careful about locking your computer when you left your station. There’s a plethora of secrets that would, more often than not, be considered not safe for work in that drive of yours.

All this to say: Edward felt a certain sense of possessiveness over you, and that baseline primal urge was not something he could resist. That’s how he finds himself ogling at your form, hidden by the darkness of the hallway outside the changing rooms. He hasn’t unzipped his slacks just yet, no– you hadn’t even taken off your sports bra yet.

You weren’t as unobservant as Edward pegged you to be– you were more than aware of his borderline obsession with you. Every time you left your desk to go to the bathroom, you purposefully left your computer available for his perusing– leaving your rather unsavory browser history uncleared. Maybe you didn’t actually browse porn at work, but you liked to leave little breadcrumbs for him– you knew that he couldn’t help but imagine you in such predicaments that you’d search.

Edward needed just a bit of a push in the right direction, so you made sure he knew where you were headed after work so often. 

You knew he was watching your every move, so you decided to give him as much of a show as you could. Agonizingly slow, you peel your bra off your damp body. Edward couldn’t see your breasts from this angle yet, but he still had to stifle a moan at your delicate movements.

He bit his lip as you bent over– the way your leggings fit your curves perfectly was almost too much. Edward felt his cock twitch at the immediate thought he had of grabbing your hips, pulling you back onto his hardness over and over– grinding against your clothed behind until he came all over the taut fabric.

You pulled the leggings down slowly, and he quietly whined as he saw your panties. At this point, Edward knew he was close without even having to touch himself.

Acting as if you didn’t hear the pathetic noise from just beyond the cracked door, you stand up straight and turn to face the floor-length mirror before you. Edward swiftly pulled out his cock from the confines of his now too-tight work pants as soon as he finally saw your bare breasts on display. He watches through lidded eyes as you trace the curves of your body, idly wondering if you checked yourself out like this often– did you touch yourself in front of a mirror as well?

Seating yourself on the bench, your closed legs still hide your arousal– if you showed him, would he notice how wet you were from all of this? How badly you wanted him to take you right then, lack of pleasantries exchanged aside?

You could see that familiar glint of his glasses in the dark, and you knew you had him wrapped around your finger. He stares at your perfect thighs, just waiting for the moment when you’d tear them open– he knows it’s greedy, but he needs to see all of you. You can hear that obvious, yet quiet, sound of Edward pleasuring himself, and you hold back a smirk as you open your legs.

He whimpers, stuttering in his ministrations, as he sees what he believes to be a patch of wetness on your grey panties– were you wet? How fucking lucky did he get? Edward’s mouth hangs open as his wrist feels as though it may cramp from just how fast he’s going. Peering down at himself for a moment, he sees that familiar bead of precum and makes no hesitation to spread it over his reddened tip– only making him closer to that depraved orgasm he so needed.

Edward watches as you move your hands down your legs, seeming like you may be about to pull your work pants back on– he couldn’t waste this opportunity so lovingly presented to him. The sounds increase, both from his movements and his voice, and you betray yourself– you catch that glint in the dark through the reflection.

It was only for a split second, and Edward knew there was definitely no way you could see him, but despite it all– he spilled all over his hand, as well as the tiled floor. His breath, harsh and ragged, would’ve made his presence more than obvious to you, had you not known already– Edward wasn’t as covert as he’d like to think.

As he hears your shuffling in the locker room, he zips himself back up and quickly grabs a crumpled tissue from his jacket pocket– wiping the evidence from his hands. Glancing down, he sees the rest of it on the floor but ultimately decides to just wipe it away with his shoes. Edward leans against the wall, chest still heaving with every breath.

“Oh, hey, Edward!” You stepped out of the locker room, your sudden presence causing him to stand up straight. “I didn’t know you went to the office gym!”

He stutters, wiping his sweaty palms on his jacket, “I, well… yes? I do now, yes…”

You smile politely, the satisfaction of seeing him so frazzled was more than enough, “That’s great, I thought I was the only one using it!”

“Mhm…” Edward looked as if he’d seen a ghost, but he couldn’t deny the tightness slowly returning in his slacks, “It’s, uh… extremely underutilized, yes.”

“You must’ve had a good workout, huh? You’re all sweaty!” You begin to walk past him, swinging your work bag over your shoulder. “Sucks that they don’t provide us with showers too, right?”

He continues to try and stutter out a response as you make your way to the stairwell, but all he can muster out is a pathetic ‘yup,’ long after you have left.

[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.

—

♡ 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

[theehoneeybee]

An Evening Coffee

pairing: Edward Nashton/gn!reader warnings: stalking, obsession, swearing, implied kidnapping? the riddler is just a silly goose word count: 1.0k

part one

synopsis: Edward's obsession only grows stronger the more you pull away from him. ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏ a/n: thank you for the love on the previous fic <;3 also don't forget my requests are open teehee ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

After Edward had left your apartment you were quick to draw all the curtains, triple checking that the front door was locked. To be extra safe, you heaved the coffee table in front of the door to barricade yourself in.

He knew where you lived.

The hairs on your arm stood up straight, alert. The air in your apartment weighed on your shoulders, unable to escape the feeling of dread that surrounded you. You drowned in fear. How did he know where you lived? Had he been here before? Was he still here now?

You didn't have a second of peace, your brain swarming with questions. Everything began to make sense. The feeling of being watched and followed, and of course, the card.

You wanted to move apartment, to run away and hide where he could never find you, but there was one small problem. Edward still had your laptop.

You stayed awake all night, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open. Caffeine and anxiety fuelled you as you stalked from room to room, unable to sit still, frantically checking that you were alone in the apartment. Was it even worth informing the police? You had no physical proof that Edward had done anything and the Gotham police were useless. They would just tell you, "we'll look into it," then you would never hear from them again.

The alarm from your phone blared in your ear. You don't remember falling asleep. You shot straight up, eyes snapping open as you scanned around your room. It was time for you to go to work.

Each time a customer came through the door a shiver ran down your spine, anticipating Edward's arrival. The night dragged. You anxiously stared at the clock, watching as the seconds ticked by all too slowly.

"Evening," Edward greeted you as he came through the door, the bell chiming behind him. You tried your best to keep a straight face, to keep the fear at bay.

"Evening."

He gently sets your laptop down on the counter. "I'll just have a coffee tonight," a kind smile adorned his lips as he spoke to you. How could he look you in the eyes and act like nothing was wrong? You couldn't help the shaking in your hands as your poured his coffee. "Well, I was able to get the virus off your laptop. Like you said, it was just something you got from a dodgy site."

You nodded, mumbling a thank you as your grabbed your laptop to put it away. Had Edward been the one to mess with your laptop? Part of you knew that would make sense, that is was the logical thing to think, but the way he looked at you almost had you convinced otherwise. Almost.

"You should be more careful, you know," Edward advised. "Try not to use those sites in the future. You never know what could happen. There's some dangerous people out there." His clear glasses gleamed in the light.

He wouldn't leave fast enough. Edward took his sweet time, sipping his coffee and scribbling his answers in a crossword puzzle. You watched him cautiously from across the diner, avoiding eye contact whenever he would glance your way. When Edward finally left, you let out a sigh of relief. A weight was lifted from your shoulders, not having to worry about him for the rest of your shift.

You scurried home, eager to get out of the dark and into the safety of your apartment. The illusion of safety, at least. Before you went to bed that night you messaged your manager, begging to be switched to the day shift. It would be too hard to find a new job on such short notice, so changing your shifts would be the quickest way to deter Edward. It was hard to fall asleep. No position seemed comfortable or safe. On your side, it left your back exposed, vulnerable to the world. You tossed and turned for the rest of the night, every little noise of the city waking you from your sleep.

You thought the switch to day shift kept Edward at bay. Aside from the feeling of being watched, you had not seen or heard from him. You asked your co-worker who took over the night shift if she had seen him, brown hair and clear frames, you described. Nothing.

Even your laptop was completely fine. The black screen and flashing question mark never appeared again but you still felt a level of unease using it, covering up your webcam with tape, just in case.

After a long day, all you wanted to do was rot in bed. One of your co-workers called out last minute, leaving you to cover them until someone else could come in. The rest of the evening you had spent running errands. Hauling all of your groceries onto the subway was no easy task.

You shuffled into your dark apartment, unable to flick on the light just yet as you carried your bags into the kitchen. They smacked onto the countertop with a loud thud. Your bedroom light was still on. Odd, you thought. You could've sworn you had turned it off. Electricity isn't cheap after all.

As you entered your bedroom, someone sprung out from the darkness, making you jump with fright. You hadn't spotted Edward in the corner, shrouded in the shadows. He towered over you, his eyes obscured by his glasses. You slowly backed away from him, until you were pressed up against the wall. He stood inches away from you.

"I missed you," Edward cooed. "You stopped working the night shift."

Your bottom lip trembled, fists balled against your sides as you stared up into his green eyes. Before you could utter a word, he spoke again.

"I just wanted to see you. You caught onto me hacking your laptop pretty quickly. You're a smart one." So he was the one who tampered with your computer.

"Please just leave me alone," your voice trembled as you spoke. For someone who used to seem so meek, Edward was making you shake with fear. His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb running across your bottom lip. You swallowed. He leaned down, his face centimetres yours.

"Don't think you can get away from me that easily."

You were his.

[imagine--if]

Can I ask for a Dano Riddler imagine? where him and Yn grew up together (she was in the girls wing of the orphanage and they talked through the walls, like him and the joker on the film) and she goes to see him in Arkham, and she's really sad that he's there, because they promissed each other that they'd never leave one another, and it's tearful and all, but he promisses her that he'll leave soon and never be apart ever again😭❤

A/N: I've just gotten round to reading the fourth issue of Riddler Year One so yessss I've totally got plenty of inspo for this imagine 😁 enjoy!!

Wordcount: 2.2K

"She doesn't say much. And when she does, it's hard to make it out. Shy little thing. Still, she'll get used to it. She'll have to."

You were only four or five when you were dumped in Gotham's orphanage, clutching onto your soft toy as an only source of comfort and some kind of stability in a terrifying world, and an even worse city. You were quiet, barely spoke, and when you did, it was in whispers, all wide, innocent eyes and secretive, the hood up on your little hoodie as you tried your best to hide yourself from everything and everyone. Just a toddler, with a sweet life twisted by death and misfortune that you barely understood as a toddler. You had shuffled meekly behind a carer who led you into the orphanage, a cold and cruel building that they expected you to call home.

The other kids there seemed so much bigger, loud and dominating and aggressive, half of them on drops, only around twelve years old. Others were plain bullies with filthy mouths and hateful glares, children's eyes glancing at you, assessing your small, shy form, before they carried on with what they were doing in disinterest.

You had buried your face in your toy and pulled the fabric of your hood up past your hair and head, over your forehead, shadowing your face, trying to disappear in it. You pulled your legs up to your chest and watched everything happen behind your toy, its fur pressed up against your face. A group of kids watched TV and fought over the remote, others played nearby outside, but from your spot hunched in a corner, opposite you, sat a boy almost as quiet as you. You gazed at him in silence for a few long minutes, absorbed in his puzzle book, and only when he looked up to get a fresh pencil did he notice your young, curious eyes fixed on him.

He was a few years older than you, with glasses pushed up his nose, making his murky green eyes twinkle as they looked back at you nervously. He gave you a small smile, the first genuine smile you'd received in maybe your whole life, awkward and hesitant. You blinked back at him timidly, hugging your toy closer with little hands, returning his smile bashfully. The boy seemed taken aback by the action, and beamed at you, a beat of hesitance passing before he offered you a pen. You stared at it, then at him, and wandered over, sitting beside him and accepting his offer. You barely knew how to read or write, and so you watched him instead, the quiet boy with a nice smile and lots of books, day after day.

And as the days went by, both of you becoming closer and more comfortable together, Edward would start talking to you in his small, sweet voice, writing answers to riddles with a hand over yours, pulling your littler form into his lap after a couple of weeks and reading to you, then helping you read, helping you speak up a little. He'd even speak for you with others, managing to push past his own shyness every so often to help you, to repeat your whispered, lispy voice to those who couldn't catch it. You'd trail after him throughout the day when you could, before you were taken back to the girls' dorm, and you'd linger in the separating corridor, afraid of the idea of you two parting and him never coming back out of his long, shared boys' room.

"I'll see you in the morning," He'd always say soothingly, giving you a warm hug, bending down slightly so you could return it properly. "I'll never leave you. You know that."

And you'd nod, because you knew Edward was telling the truth by the way he said it and looked at you with earnest, young eyes, letting you borrow a book to amuse yourself with if the nights got too long,

But then foster families and adoptees started popping up. And you, being a young, sweet-looking child, albeit a little shy, are swept up into the grips of a random 'family,' and the quickness of how your name's signed away to people you don't even know and have no say over makes your head spin. The orphanage was overcrowded anyway, and one less mouth to feed in exchange for money made all the difference.

Edward, on the other hand, was beside himself.

Newspapers and library books on adoption and rules and any ways to prevent what was happening piled up beside his bed, to the dorm he'd been disciplined to stay in for his shocking outbursts of frustration and hatred and upset. Thomas Wayne's renewal plan could help him, he thought. He'd already assured him that he could get to a special school to study and learn and have a brighter future.

So on the last night you could spend together, sneaking out of the corridor of a room you slept in with the other girls, Edward filled out the form in his shaky, uneven writing, stating on one line that he wanted to go to the school he'd talked about, and on the other, 'I want to stay with my best friend and stop them from being taken away by bad people.'

REJECTED.

The word stamped in bold, horrid red print was the response he got, the word that bled into his mind as you were made to pack a bag and wave goodbye and go, handing your young life over to strangers, and Edward couldn't do a thing about it. You were carted off out of Gotham to go to school and expected to become a whole new person.

But you couldn't.

The years went by agonisingly slowly, and with every one that passed, you thought about him, your friend, Edward. Did he get adopted too? Did he manage to find some source of happiness and hope afterwards? Would he even remember you if you went back?

Eventually, you save up enough money and have enough time to go back to where it all started, in the unfeeling streets of Gotham City. You had no idea where to look, and after hearing from someone that the orphanage had been burned down ages ago, your last resort was to ask at the GCPD.

"Sorry to bother you," you say with an awkward smile, as a detective greets you and asks if he can be any help; 'Lieutenant James Gordon,' his name tag reads, "I'm looking for someone who I think still lives here? We were friends a while ago, and... I'm sorry, you look busy."

"We are quite busy, Miss," Gordon tells you, looking a little overwhelmed. "We've just managed to catch some crazy psycho who's been letting hell loose recently."

Your eyes widen in confusion and interest. "Wow... that's... yeah, I'm sorry, it's okay."

"No, go on," Gordon nods, letting you into his office, "have you got a name, address or anything?"

"I don't know his address," you say in uncertainty. "We were friends as kids. His name's Edward. Edward Nashton?"

Jams Gordon stops abruptly, whirling around to face you with demanding, bewildered eyes.

"Excuse me?"

You frown. "What?"

"Are you trying to be funny?" Gordon says in shock. "Edward Nashton? That's who you're looking for?"

You nod slowly, and Gordon sighs, taking off his glasses and hiding his face in a hand.

"Look, Miss, I don't know how new you are to Gotham, but Edward Nashton has just been arrested and sent to Arkham Asylum for the crimes committed under the name of The Riddler. He was only just apprehended a few hours ago."

Your breath catches in your throat in disbelief, as Gordon's eyes narrow suspiciously, looking you up and down.

"And you really knew nothing about this? You aren't an accessory?"

"I- no," you shake your head, "I only just made it to Gotham this evening."

Gordon nods slowly, though he still doesn't seem convinced. He suddenly grabs his jacket and opens the office door, glancing back at you.

"Come with me."

You follow him meekly, as he leads you out of the building and into a police car. Are you going to be arrested? Could your Eddie really have done this? Why?

Gordon stops outside Arkham, opening the car door for you to step out, and leads you inside, showing his badge to the guards, who let you proceed. The walls are strong and metallic and thick, and the cells are sealed with heavy iron doors with a small, barred rectangular window at their tops. You try not to let your attention wander, sticking close to Gordon, until he reaches an interrogation room. A mad dressed in a jet-black bat suit already stands there with a frustrated look in his dark eyes, and Gordon signals for you to wait as he goes over to the Batman and whispers something you can't quite make out in his ear. The Batman looks over at you quickly, his expression unreadable, and then he approaches you.

"You know Nashton?" his deep, whispery voice states more than asks, and you nod.

Batman stares at you for another moment before marching back into the interrogation room, nodding at you impatiently to come in. You do, blinking at the hard lights and the security cameras glaring at you from the corners of the room. And, behind the strong, glass partition and metal desk, a young man sits staring at you in disbelief.

Clear, dorky glasses. Murky green eyes. Soft, sandy brown hair. It's definitely him.

"Edward?" you say breathlessly, going to step closer, but the Batman gives you a wary look. "Ed, is that really you?"

He nods wordlessly, his eyes wide and stunned. But beneath that familiar, comforting look he's always had, there's a layer you can only just make out, like a hidden spark of insanity, one that's made the whole city go into a frenzy and even The Batman apprehensive. Edward whispers your name like a prayer, his hands pressed up against the protective glass.

"You came back," he says in wonder, as Gordon and Batman glance between the two of you in uncertainty, but you're not focused on them at all, like the whole world is disappearing around you. "I- I knew you would..."

"What happened?" you say, overwhelmed by the whole scenario, staring in wonder at the now grown-up orphan labelled a criminal in front of you. "What did you do?"

"What I had to do," he smiles brightly, adoringly at you, that glimmer of insanity coming to the surface. "What they made me do. And I did it for you, too."

"Me?"

"Who else?" Edward giggles, standing up and moving closer to the glass, his hands cuffed and chained. "They tried to break us apart. But you came back. I've been waiting for so long..."

"What does she know about this?" The Batman slices through the moment, and Edward glances at him distractedly. "Have you been doing this together?"

"Of course not," Edward breathes, turning his attention back to you with a sweet smile. "She's too pure for that. Too shy, and lovely... it was me. But you inspired me," he insists, looking straight at you, "to make a clean slate, and clean it all up, so that it'd be perfect for us. And it will be, angel. You coming back was the last piece of the puzzle." Edward suddenly gives you that all-too familiar soft, loving look you'd seen back in the orphanage, and you have to fight to compose yourself, wanting so badly to run to him like you did so many times before. "You look so beautiful. You haven't changed a bit..."

You feel like crying, stunned by the casualness of what he's saying and admitting to. "I... oh Edward..." you shake your head, giving him a desperate look. "You're in Arkham."

"That's right," Batman interjects again, "you can't be together. You're a psychopath, Nashton. You're not getting out. I'm sending her back home."

"No, wait," you cut in desperately, still feeling just as drawn to the genius madman even after the dark truths, "please, I don't want to leave him, I can help..."

A guard interrupts, bursting into the interrogation room, and you all turn to him.

"There's been explosions," the guard announces, "the city walls have collapsed and the main road's flooded."

As he speaks, Edward giggles to himself, giving the masked vigilante a dark, unhinged look that makes your heart jump in your chest.

"She's not going anywhere," he says excitedly, grinning at you. "You're right where you need to be. We can watch the whole thing together."

The Batman dithers between leaving and staying, eventually rushing out of the room, along with Gordon, to deal with the flooding crisis, and a guard hustles you out of the room as Edward's voice calls out your name from behind you.

"You'll never leave me again! We were meant to be! You know it's true, darling! You know!"

You manage to glance back at him as you leave, studying his crazed, ecstatic look, that same softness in his eyes as the day you had to leave, but tainted with madness. But as you look, you can't help but smile back at him slightly, because you know it's true.

As the waters invade the city and the building erupts into panic along with the rest of Gotham, you know it's true. And maybe that'll make this all worth it.

⭒❃.✮:▹ 𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ◃:✮.❃⭒ (message me know if you want to be removed. ghost blogs/dead accs have been removed.)

@misadventures0fdes @junebugp @simestandswithtaylorswift-blog @carley-carley-carley @lostbunn @dragovegogrimborn @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @edwardspumpkinpie @murderbimbo00 @sweetums0kitty @beel-mcburger @cml-san @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @bimboanime @phoenixgurl030 @dangerouslittlefairy @yoyoanaria @yaeyuuki @vinxlsketches @beenz-beenz @ghoulsgraveyard @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @r3ptiliaaa @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowersleep @hxney-lemcn @callsigncrash @bokksieu @skateb0red @philiasoul@felicityofbakerstreet @deadlights-darling @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell

[abrcmswrld]

Only With Your Eyes | Burt Fabelman x Neighbor!Reader

Word Count: 3017

Warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), slight recognized age gap, voyeurism, questionable risqué activities in the window, fingering, squirting (to an extent), general smut stuff, GN reader (no use of she/her) BUT feminine clothing described

Author’s Note: and so i said to myself “what if burt accidentally watched his neighbor change through their window but liked it”,, next thing i knew this was a thing,, i had no idea how to end this and im not totally happy with it and it’s probably ooc but idc ITS SMUTOBER BABY!

I.

Your blood turns ice cold as you glance toward his figure in the window. He's dressed in night clothes. His glasses glare as his eyes lock with yours before he jerks his gaze away.

Shit.

He saw you. There's no doubt. You quickly pull the loose night shirt over your head and close the curtains. You can feel your heart racing. He probably thinks you're a creep. A slut. Just parading your body openly for anyone to see. Didn't you have the decency to consider the lingering male gazes that romped around the neighborhood? Gazes from husbands with wives who would certainly tear into your character had they known their sweethearts' eyes had been glued to your nude body without care.

Did he have a wife? You find yourself wondering. It's a small apartment, you think. You'd never seen a woman enter his unit. You're almost certain he had children. You'd seen the teens and young adults entering the unit before. You'd even heard the laughter coming from his driveway as he embraced them in hugs.

It’s intriguing. It should be horrifying. You just unintentionally flashed your neighbor, you should want to crawl under your soft sheets and never be seen again. But instead, you find yourself wanting to know more about his mundane life.

II.

He's peaked your interest. You're not sure if he'd like to hear that. He's decently older than you. Old enough to have children in their late teens, but it doesn't stop your gaze from falling on him through your bedroom window as he walks to the set of mailboxes outside the complex.

You practically memorized his routine. Not that you meant to. It's just hard not to. It hardly changes. He goes to work at the same time, returns home at the same time, checks his mail at the same time. So after weeks of watching you decide to switch things up for yourself. It wouldn't hurt to visit the mailbox a little later in the day.

So you do. And just as you expected, he did too. It's awkward. He says nothing, only smiles in your direction. You smile back. He's handsome up close. The scent of his cologne tickles your nose in the best way possible. You break the silence, introducing yourself.

"I live in the building unit across the way from yours."

A blush rises to his cheeks. He's flustered and you figure it's because of the incident from weeks ago. But he's polite. He doesn't chastise you and instead acts as if he had no idea of your mistake.

"I'm Burt. It's nice to meet you. I don't normally have time to converse with neighbors."

You stare at your feet. You can't even think of what to say after that. The tension lays thick in the air between you two, but he's a gentleman. Perhaps you should...

"I'm sorry for..."

He swallows thickly.

"Um-I'm sorry for not introducing myself sooner, Burt. It's very nice to finally meet you."

You outstretch a soft hand for him to shake and he does. He has slightly calloused palms and a firm grip that feel so nice against yours.

You don’t keep him long. Better to ease into it, you think. You feel a little giddy as you walk quietly back to your own unit.

III.

It makes your heart race the next time you catch his gaze through the window. You're starting to pull the curtains shut, but his gaze causes you to hesitate and pause briefly, one hand still fisting the coarse fabric of the curtain.

He simply stares up at you. And you're sure he sees you staring right back. Suddenly there's a spark in your stomach that makes you giddy. You leave the gap in the curtains and turn to instead peel your shirt over your head. You face away from him at first. The burning in your cheeks and the flush on the tips of your ears prevents you from meeting his gaze or checking to see if he had even kept watching you.

You pull your skirt and tights down the length of your legs. You're bare with only under garments covering your goose-bumped skin. It's cold in the room. Something inside you longs to feel warm calloused hands rubbing the lengths of your body. Taking care of you.

You turn to face him.

He stares right back at you.

His expression is focused, but in particular you notice that his hand have remained at his sides. As if you were a piece of art in a museum, and he is satisfied to view you from a distance without letting hands wander where they shouldn't.

You can't help but give him a smile as you place a hand on the glass of the window.

You turn to display the way that your fingers work the clasps of your bra open, excited to show off for him but, when you turn you find that he has pulled the curtain shut. You can't find it in yourself to be hurt. Instead you grin and pull your curtain shut as well.

What a gentleman.

IV.

He still doesn't make an effort to speak to you. It's not that you think he doesn't like you or is possibly annoyed by your late night "shenanigans," he just goes about his day as if nothing had happened. Still only a friendly neighbor whom you spot leaving every day work.

He was driving you insane. You had dreams of him lately. Dreams in which he had actually touched you. Dreams in which he had kissed your flesh and caressed you with haste. You'd always wake up feeling sweaty and needy.

So you decide you're done waiting around. You've never been a perfect baker, but the cookies you make are good enough to be given to him, and it gives you an excuse to talk to him. Actually talk to him.

You take a deep breath before you knock on his apartment door. It takes a moment, but he eventually comes to the door. He's still dressed in work clothes: dress pants, a crisp shirt, and nice tie. You swallow sharply before speaking.

"I made cookies. I was wondering if you were busy."

It comes out so fast he looks almost stunned as he tries to decode your intentions. "You...want to come in?" You're practically bouncing on your heels. "Yes! Yeah. I thought it be nice to...get to know each other."

He smiles softly and steps back, letting his front door open a little wider for you to slip into the apartment with him. It's nice. Tidy. Although not thoroughly decorated. He seems to be a logical man, not quite one to put so much thought into the creative expression of interior decorating.

You gently sit the tin of cookies on the table and turn to face him. "I..I hope you're not opposed to chocolate chip." He laughs airy and soft and shakes his head. "Chocolate chip is good."

He pauses for a moment and hesitates before speaking, "It's good to speak to you again." You already feel the flush pulsing into your cheeks and you smile.

"I wanted to speak to you more. I see you a lot. But we never speak."

He raises a brow as he listens to you speak. Oh you see each other. He knows exactly what you're alluding to, but neither one of you can bring it up explicitly. He sits in the chair across from you and gestures for you to do the same.

"You have kids?" You gesture at a photo of Burt and a boy, no older than a teenager. Burt smiles. "Yes. He's my son, Sammy. I have daughters too." You nod and smile. "They seem like good kids. I see them when they come here sometimes. Just from across the yard. They always looks so happy to see you."

He nods. "I sure would hope so. They are good kids." Silence falls between the two of you for a moment. There's an awkward tension. You can see it clearly now, he's not wearing a wedding ring. But the issue still seems like a giant elephant in the room. "And a wife?"

It comes out a low whisper, and he gives a confused look. "I'm sorry, what was that?" You clear your throat and prepare yourself for the potential embarrassment. "Uh...A wife? Do you have a wife?" He raises his brows and his mouth opens slightly. He seems slightly shocked that you had asked, and you can only hope he isn't completely offended at the prying question.

"No. Not anymore."

It's clearly a sore subject for him. You can see it in the way his mouth forms a straight line. You can only whisper. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't pry like that." He shakes his head and places a hand on top of yours where it rests on the tabletop. "It's okay, really."

He's looking right at you and you feel the pressure of his stare immediately. Paired with the warmth and softness of his hand, you almost feel your brain short circuit. But you stare back at him with wide eyes. Suddenly you're thinking of his gaze through the window and the way he had taken in the sight of your body. Your cheeks are burning hot.

"I've not overstepped a boundary these past couple of nights have I?"

You blink at him, shocked that he would even allude to the previous nights. You shake your head slowly and practically gasp in an inhale. "No. Have I?" He chuckles and smiles. You feel his thumb caress the meat of your hand. "Not at all."

You can't even believe that the two of you are speaking about this. A little part inside of you expected you both to ignore it and pretend you can't done anything, especially something so voyeuristic. His hand moves from your hand to your cheek, brushing a small piece of hair out of your face. His touch lights your skin on fire.

You quickly stand from where you had been sitting across from him. He looks stunned, shocked, maybe even nervous. You walk closer to him, closer and closer, filling the space until your shins hit his. "Is everything okay?" You hardly let him get the question out before you're leaning down to kiss him.

You feel almost childish and overly bold. But his skin against yours lit a fire in you where he had already placed a spark through the window days prior. You're thankful that he's quick to kiss you back. Thankful he doesn't push you away.

You place yourself onto his lap, legs dangling off the side of his thigh and an arm wrapped around his shoulders to hold yourself upright. You feel his hands fall onto you hips and you can't help but smile into the kiss.

When you pull away slowly, his eyes are locked onto yours. You can practically see his gears turning as his mouth remains slightly ajar. He says nothing, just continues to grip the meat of your hip. You break the silence,

"I want you to kiss me more. Is that alright?"

As if he received a sudden burst of strength and energy, he raises from his seat, picking you up off his lap and placing you down onto the table in front of the two of you.

He towers over you as he kisses you, feverishly, starved like a man who hasn't felt this sort of affection in years. You let your hands grip his arms as he ravishes you. It's everything you wanted and could've ever imagined. Your kind, reserved neighbor whom you've wanted so bad finally reaching a breaking point in his lust for you.

You smile into the kiss, secretly feeling a bit of accomplishment wash over you. His hand is traveling up, up, up your skirt, caressing your thigh and resting his fingers dangerously close to your aching core. You gasp into his mouth.

"This is okay?"

His inquiry is soft and whispered and his eyes are pleading. You nod your head quickly. He furrows his brows and closes his eyes as his forehead rests against yours, "I need you to tell me. Tell me you want me." It sends lightning bolts of arousal straight to your core. You're sure your underwear are ruined. You nod quickly, "I want you, Burt. Please..."

The last word strains out into a whine from you. You sound pathetic, and you hope he will take mercy on you just this once. His fingers inch closer to your soaked underwear, the pads of his fingers brushing your clit through the fabric. Your nails dig into the wood of the table.

He's staring at you, intense, the slightest bit of intrigue behind his eyes. "There?" His question comes as he makes loose circles around the clothed bud. You squeeze your eyes closed and nod.

He continues his light touches on your clit until you can no longer hold back a choked off moan. It seems to spur something in him as his hands are quick to move to grip the waistband of your underwear at your hips, slowly sliding the soiled fabric down your legs.

He brushes his fingers over your folds, spreading them slightly, as if he's observing the science of it all. "So perfect..." It's a whisper and, it leaves a shiver running down your spine. A finger prods at your entrance. Your eyes squeeze shut and you can't help the whine that escapes your mouth as his finger slides deeper into you.

It doesn't feel real. Even after the absolute show you had put on for him at your window, you could've never imagined having his hands on you in such an intimate way. But you love it. He touches you like it's a totally new experience. Like you're something for him to pick apart and figure out.

The fog of your thoughts clears immediately as his finger curls upwards and into the most sensitive spot inside you. The gasp you let out is pathetic, but you hope the blissed out smile on your face is enough to comfort any worry he may have. "Burt-"

He cuts you off as he works his finger against that spongy tissue, "I'll take care of you. Let me take care of you..." His lips are so close to yours once again, but he holds your face with his free hand. You nod your head, "Yes..."

You can feel that tension deep within you. A rubber band ready to snap at any moment. But you're desperate to hold it back. You haven't even touched him yet. You reach a hand around the back of his neck, reaching up till your finger tangle in short, neat hair. 

"Wanna touch- wanna touch you." It comes out broken with a whine. 

He responds quickly and wordlessly, letting his free hand fall to his belt. You close your eyes, the desperation and anticipation becoming too much for you. He moves his hips closer to yours. You let your knees rest on the sides of his hips as he finally pulls his cock free. Its vulgar. In the privacy of his own home, yet displayed for him on his own kitchen table. His eyes are dark with lust, but his hands are careful as they touch you.

You let your hand wrap around his cock. You revel in the gasp he lets out as your skin makes contact. He's soft and warm, and you never want this to end. You're desperate to make him finish before you inevitably give into the lighting strikes his fingers are brining to your core. 

You had been so open through the window, beginning to not care what other's would think if they had saw you, but you find the thought daunting in this moment. Burt and yourself panting over each other on his kitchen table. A divorced father, and a younger neighbor who had so openly given themselves to him. 

It washes away when his lips meet yours again. It's not hurried. Not rushed or sloppy. It's deep, with a sense of care that makes you shiver. He's not some college guy, willing to fuck and immediately kick you out. You're reminding of what had drawn you to Burt in the first place. Older, yes, but with a sense of care for the things that he held close. You could see it in the way that he so graciously greeted his children, and in the way that he kept his house neat even while living alone.

He liked to figure out how things worked. What makes the world tick. You can see it in his eyes as he brushes different spots inside you and glances back to you with a curious eye. You know he gets his satisfaction from understanding the inner working of the things he surrounds himself with. You can see it in his eyes as you gush around his fingers, and the way he gasps with wide eyes as you helplessly drip onto the table and floor. You can’t help the way your legs tremble through your orgasm. You feel pathetic.

You cannot help the blood that rushes to your cheeks. It’s embarrassment. But he doesn’t seem to see it that way as his cock twitches in your hand and spurts hot finish over your knuckles. He leans down to kiss you but can only gasp and groan into your mouth.

You’re already shaking under him. Sticky and damp. Debauched. Fear strikes through you again. This is a not a dream, not a playful glance through a pane of glass. You’re covered in each other.

“I-I’m sorry…”

You half expect him to hastily forgive you, usher you to redress, and push you right out the door, never to speak of it again. But he doesn’t.

Instead he kisses you again. And the way his fingers grip your figure close to his makes you believe this won’t be your last time in this situation. You can’t bring yourself to be ashamed anymore.

[420korn]

BY THE SEA

⛧ when you and dwayne leave the dreadful beauty pageant to get some fresh air some things spill out, more than intended for the day.

- no warnings!! maybe mild cursing

(dwayne x fem! reader)

as you and dwayne flop on the worn-out chairs in the random room you two stumbled in you sighed.

this whole roadtrip that dwayne basically begged you to go on was chaotic to say the least. his grandpa passed away, he found out he couldn’t fly jets, that damn horn on the car wouldn’t shut up, but you still were there for dwayne.

you really liked dwayne. it was a miracle that he actually allowed you to talk to him and become somewhat apart of his life. he didn’t let anyone do that. you had to admit you have a crush on him. but you knew he didn’t like you, most definitely not.

you snapped out of your hazy thoughts as two little girls ran across the hall. giggling in puffy skirts, tons of makeup they didn’t need, and reeking of fake spray tan mixed with strong fruity perfume.

you had already had enough of that shit after seeing a room full of girls who looked like that. as you were about to sit up and ask dwayne to leave he spoke for you

“let’s get out of here.”

“yes please. my head hurts from all the colors.”

-🦇

you two ended up on the pier, watching as the waves clashed with each other and people screaming with joy. you smiled to yourself.

you took a glance at dwayne, knowing that it was stupid because if you looked you wouldn’t be able to pry your eyes away.

you looked at his dyed jet black hair flowing in the wind, his shirt going in all different directions as he leaned up against the wood.

he finally looked up at you, feeling the pair of admiring eyes on him.

“what?” he said with a grin

“nothing.. im sorry for everything that happened today. it’s been fucking crazy.”

“it’s okay really. im sorry for making you come with me. if i knew it was gonna be this bad i wouldn’t have even thought you should’ve came.”

“no it’s okay! im happy i came. im happy i was able to comfort you..” you said taking a risk with this response.

dwayne’s face slightly heated up at this comment, even if the winds made it as cold as ever.

“i have a question though..why did you ask for me to come?”

dwayne’s face heated up even more. he thought it was obvious why he asked for you to come, why he said if you came he would go. dwayne was head over heels for you. you both had the same music taste, sense of humor, style, and he thought you were stunning. the way you tried so hard to adjust to him and his calmer life style made him even more in love.

he honestly didn’t know whether to hide his admiration by making a quick white lie..or to truly show his feelings.

dwayne stared down at the ocean with one thing on his mind ‘fuck it’.

now dwayne would never have this type of confidence, but some random talk with his uncle frank about how you only live once, and to do whatever you want and fuck the rest, got him to change his thinking

“i thought it would be obvious.” he said trying to make it subtle.

“what do you mean?” you said confused.

“i like you.”

it was silent..the wind blowing across the sea becoming louder and louder as dwayne looked and read your face.

nothing…

but then..a shy smile. he didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he let out a deep sigh.

“really?”

“yeah..i’ve liked you for a while ya know..”

you smiled even harder at him, more red and pink tints filling your cheeks. he was trying hard to not smile but couldn’t help it.

“youre so cute” you said focusing on his eyes.

he looked down, embarrassed by how hot his face was.

you slowly crept over to him, closing the distance between you two. you reached for his hand on the railing and held his pinky with your own, not wanting to move too quickly.

he picked himself up off the railing looking at you for a moment and back to the ocean

that’s when he felt a pair of lips softly kiss his cheeks, the gloss in which covered your lips definitely staining it. he looked down at you, a grin on your face.

“you ready to go inside?” you said now taking his hand in yours.

>🎱🐼📖

THATS IT!!! bro i know months ago i said i would post more, BUT I HAD NO IDEAS. this just came to mind when i was randomly watching little miss sunshine for the 20th time. plzplzplz request some stuff so i can have motivation to post and have good ideas PLEASE!!!!

thank you for reading !! 🦈💤🤍

[cl3fairyyy]

my craving for validation from an older male authority figure goes insane when i see him

[marvelmaniac2000]

Summary: You ask Eddie for a little advice. He always knows what’s best for you. 

Characters: Edward Nashton x fem! Reader (Y/N) 

Subject: Pussy eating (oral sex), intercourse P in V, mild rough sex, missionary sex, strip tease, video cam sex, foreplay, kissing, 

18+ Only!!! MINORS DNI/WILL BE BLOCKED

(this is a little something I wrote, I know everyone else has their own cam girl smut/stories out, I guess here's my lil rendition.)

Words: 1.1k+

   Edward sat awkwardly on your apartment couch. You pace back and forth in front of him. You had on skin tight boxer shorts with a loose fitted tank top. It was late evening  and you unexpectedly texted him to come over to hear you rant about your boring life problems. You pause in front of him and sighed in relief. He held his laptop in one hand and continued to watch you adorably worry about practically almost everything in your life. To him your life was ok, what was there to freak out about? 

   “Well maybe you should find a second hustle that you kinda like doing? Maybe dog sitting for someone you know?” Eddie push the rim of his glasses up and try to revert his eyes from your thick thighs. 

You plot yourself next to him and look into his eyes. “Eddie. No way is it safe to walk around this city walking dogs. This place is too crowded, you of all people should know that.”  

 “I mean you can just stay at the person’s place and dog watch them there” he replied. 

  “That’s true..But I'd rather stay at home, and do something online” You adjust your stance and sit crossed leg in front him on the sofa. “Can I be honest with you for a second?” Eddie typed something on his screen and a Cam girl site appeared. 

“I think you shouldn’t let all that beauty go to waste. You should start an account. A girl like you would make loads of money..” 

  “Can I see?” You reached over and looked at the website. It seemed too much of a risk to take and expose such imitate parts of your body. “I kinda wouldn’t mind doing it but I don’t want to show my face.” Eddie looked at you with his big cutie eyes. “ I’ll be your biggest fan, I will make sure everything is ok, and you don’t have to show your face.”  

You light up a little and wrap your arms around his neck. “ As long as you say it’s ok Eddie” you grinned and pecked him on the cheek. 

    Later on in the evening Eddie helped you set up the background of your place to keep it looking mysterious and out of detection. 

  “Are you sure about this Ed?” 

“I’m positive” he looked at you and sat on the edge of your bed. 

 “Maybe we should make a demo or something before I start” you walk over to him and climb on to his lap. 

  You slowly straddled his hips and looked into his eyes. “I think that would be a great idea” he whispered back. 

  You bite your bottom lip and turn on the live cam. 

 “Wait.. I want to hold it” he took it gently out of your hand. He meddled with some of the buttons as you watched, raising your eyebrows and smiled at his cuteness. 

“Whatever you want Eddie…” You would never say no to your Edward. 

   Eddie was actually much taller than you but his baggy plaid jacket made him seem a lot less 

intimidating. “Um you should get on the bed first” he instructed and began to film you slowly crawling onto the bed behind him.

  “Ok..then should I do something like… this?’’ you smirked and lowered your shorts revealing a lace thong. You kept your eyes on Eddie and threw them in his direction. Eddie walked closer to the bed and grinned. He watches you turn over and push your bottom up for him to grab. You bite your bottom lip hoping from him to touch you more. “Come on Eddie I know you can do more than that baby” You kneel in front of him and kiss him on the lips all hot and bothered. Eddie sat the camera down on the bed and kissed you back. “You have no idea” he breathed. 

 “Try me” you whispered. Eddie sheepishly slid his hand under your tank top and squeezed your fluffy breast. You moan as he gently lays kisses on the crook of your neck. That isn’t something you would suspect from him but Eddie was the only true friend you knew the best. Eddie instructed you. His mouth caressed down toward your stomach and slowly pushed your lace underwear down.He always wanted to taste you. He wasn’t sure why, but his neediness for your approval and wanting your pure attention drove him in madness. 

   “Eddie don’t-” you said

 “No I want every part of you (Y/N) please” he kissed your stomach and devoured his mouth between your wetness.  

   You mouth breathed a moan feeling his hot tongue swirl between your clit. You squeeze onto the sheets feeling him give no mercy to your aching core. Eddie grew more hungry, feeling you squirm between his touch. 

  “Just like that?” Eddie stuck one finger around your clit while still riding his tongue inside you. You whimper wanting him more. You buck your hips to his mouth feeling a wave of pleasure sweep inside you. You roam your fingers in between his greasy brown locks. 

   “Please Eddie” you whimper feeling yourself reach your high. 

   “Not yet” Eddie continues to rub your clit in circular motions. Eddie positions himself above you and sucks on your hardened nipples. 

   “Look at you so needy” Eddie’s eyes showed a different version of himself that sent you over. He reached down with his same hand to insert a digit inside your entrance. You let out a gentle moan and threw your head back feeling pure bliss. Eddie gave the other nipple the same treatment sucking the milk dry of your perk breast. 

   “Mmm You’re so perfect” Eddie tongue kisses you while pushing his two digits further inside you. 

   “(Y/N) I’m in love with you” Eddie nibbled and sucked onto your luscious lower lip. Your fingertips  traveled down to his neck caressing on to his back trying to savor this moment. You grinded against his bulge that pressed against your inner thigh. Eddie pushed his weight off of you and undid his pants and his baggy sweater. You could tell he was nervous about his size but that didn’t matter to you. 

   Eddie positioned himself between your legs and entered inside you. You eagerly adjusted your hips to his waist and moaned, feeling him inside you. “Don’t worry you’re just right” you mumbled wanting him deeper inside you. Eddie's pace was slow and aching. You whimper feeling him stroke your walls. Eddie pressed your wrist down and pushed into you harder. 

  You were taken aback by his roughness but it felt even more animalistic. You gasp feeling him thrust harder into your core. “Am I hurting you?”  Eddie slowed his pace. “Keep going” you breathed. Eddie leaned down and licked and nibbled at your ear. “I’m not stopping until you cum” he breathed, his voice turned into not Edward but someone you knew as the riddler. 

Like/Comments/Reblogs/ always welcomed

My Card 💚

[zv5x]

Riddler who slowly hugs u tighter and tighter until you're whimpering and you can't breath or wriggle away before telling u that he knows u were trying to escape but that he doesn't blame you. Obviously you were being manipulated by that ex lover of yours. He was too merciful to let them off the hook that easily, and intends to rectify his mistake.

Of course he knew what those ropes on the floor stood for. He immediately knew you were attempting to escape. And on top of that, to see you fiddling with the door handle right as he makes his way in after a hard day of work...what a terrible thing to come home to, right angel? Of course the knew you were trying to leave him. Why wouldn't he? What, did you think he was stupid or something? Of course, you tell him no, that you could NEVER think that, and that he's the only remotely intelligent man in Gotham. But he doesn't believe you. Just look at those ropes on the floor. Clearly, the scum of the Earth still holds your tongue.

He gently, slowly, whispers their address into your ear, while brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He traces kisses along the side of your head, while you try your damnedest to squirm away from him. He doesn't bother using the syringe to get you to sleep yet. He just wants a few more minutes like this with you. He just wants a few more minutes to tell you what he's going to do to everyone you ever loved, and what he'll do to you right after that. He'll play the event in his brain over and over again.

Enter their homes Hear their screams Come back home to you

The idea alone makes him feel just so…good. He could scream.

You could too, in fact.

[annika-thelostlove]

The art of paper folding - Brian Wilcox x fem!reader

Word count/ 4015

Preview/ But You, for whatever reason that led to it, you were assigned the seat on the other side of him. You are always anxious with stress. You think that maybe this guy who has a reputation for being a smartass will bring too much attention to your side of the classroom. You're a little glad Sally would probably take most of his attention, though. Those types of pretty girls probably have it bad sometimes dealing with boys like brian, you think.

Author note/ its finally completed! Its the most high school romantic idiocy I can put in a oneshot. This is lightly based on my own high school experience. The guy who I thought liked me back really did make me an origami heart. Soon after, he said something super mean to me, and my little 15 yr old heart never forgave him.

Warnings/ super fluffy, and not well edited

Brian is the type of guy in school who always talks shit. It's like he can't help it. Things fall out of his mouth unguarded. He is 17, but he still gets worked up over things like he is still in elementary school. In his new math class in the new year of school, he purposely sits next to the popular girl Sally because he thought it would be fun, but she doesn't tolerate his shit one bit.

But You, for whatever reason that led to it, you were assigned the seat on the other side of him. You are always anxious with stress. You think that maybe this guy who has a reputation for being a smartass will bring too much attention to your side of the classroom. You're a little glad Sally would probably take most of his attention, though. Those types of pretty girls probably have it bad sometimes dealing with boys like brian, you think.

Brian is a guy you've only heard about through another friend because he's "someone's annoying brother that dyes his own hair black cos he thinks it's edgy. He also doesn't wash it often to keep the cheap box colour for longer. Hence, the sticky looking locks. He confidently sticks to wearing black and oversized clothes that hide his 30-pound body." Says the people who talk about him.

So the best course of action is to keep your head down, and don't get involved with either of Brian or Sally.

But then, as the year goes by, whenever Brian is bored at being ignored by Sally, he will turn his greasy head to you and give you a little poke. The first few times sent your nerves up, you were so scared of what he would say to you. Will he say something mean? Point out your pimples? Say your teeth look crooked? That you have a mustache you should shave it? Horrible horrible little scenarios in your mind. But Brian, for the last few months, only asks you funny dumb questions just to avoid actually learning in class. It makes your heart laugh a little in relief.

Brian is sarcastic and complains a lot. He has too many theories and tells stories exclusively comprised of sound effects and explosions made with his mouth. He smells like deep fry oil that you grow to like so much because it reminds you of hashbrowns in the morning. It's gotten pathetic how many things you notice about him. You even love that buck tooth of his making its way out of his little mouth.

Some days, he enjoys telling you how corporations pay commercials to trick people into thinking that you're the bad guy. You listen to him so intently, and the more you do, the things about him begin to make more sense to you.

Brian is not a bad person. Not like what people say. Really, really not. He is actually kind of great.

He's just a little distracted at school, that's all.

You share with him your own little jokes under your breath during class now. And by some miracle, he finds you funny. A fierce blush would bloom up you collar at his laughter.

You hope that it makes him feel special. No one else has really thought of you to be very funny. You've told him some weird things, like: "Last night I had a dream about Dwayne Johnson as a centaur," and he would get detention from laughing too hard.

At times he would still try to get Sallys attention, but most days he spends his time leaving silly doodles at the edge of your notebooks.

🩵🩵🩵🩵

Today, Brian has been folding paper in class again. He watched a YouTube video on how to make an origami heart last week. For whatever reason, he's been so invested in getting it perfect.

He was trying to show off his progress, so he made one in your class. Looking over at Sally's desk, he watched her pack her notebook away, getting ready to leave. Brian then redirects his attention to you. You were still finishing writing your notes down, then packing away your pens.

In a second, he decides to slip the heart shaped paper, between the pages of your notebook without much thought of why. The class then packs up and files out to go home.

💘💘💘💘

You can't believe it, it just can't be.

Brian's heart origami was in your notebook. You had just got home and pulled out your notes, currently staring at the red piece of folded paper. Did he slip it inside? Maybe it was just an accident. It might have fallen. Fallen perfectly, between the pages. That must be it. It didn't mean anything.

You rub your face in confusion. Your heart is not neutral about this at all. Even if it was an innocent mistake. Your heart thumps in the possibility. That maybe. Brian Wilcox gave you this heart on purpose.

But, no. He doesn't see you like that. You're just his friend.

The heart origami sits so innocently on your book, and you picture him making it step by step. His eyes looking up at you, after another doodle he's finished on your book. The way he's smiles, holding back his laughter with shining eyes.

You don't know, but maybe, maybe. Brian could like you…more than as a friend.

The thought echoes around in your quiet bedroom.

🥤🥤🥤🥤

Later when a group project comes up, Brian without hesitation jumps to join a group of boys in the class and leaves you with Sally.

Sally is popular, and very beautiful, but it was the first time you really tried to talk to her. It turns out she's incredibly insightful and a good listener. Its nice for someone to give you their attention like that. Which is funny in a way, it makes you feel kinda special, because Sally doesn't even give Brian the time of day. So in your curiosity, you ask her about that.

"I just hate getting the attention of a class clown, when what I really need is to focus in class" she rolls her eyes as she says it. She takes a glance at Brian's group. "..but I notice that Brian and you have become quite the pair, I think it's pretty cool, Brian is so behaved when he's with you".

Blood rushes to your face. "Oh haha, no, no, were not that close..."

But at that moment, the group of boys with Brian began to get loud and rowdy. They've been loudly debating about the best kind of place to take a date out. They've begun to joke and laugh at how Brian works at Mickeys, mocking him how hilarious it could be for a first date. You saw that he was laughing along with them, but you could see it was irritating him.

"Ohhh noooo! A girl would NEVER ask for another date. Can you imagine making her order at the counter? How embarrassing"

"And then brian asks for the kids' meal?!" laughter from the boys.

"Noooo! Brian would use his employee discounts on the combos! That's just so sad!" More laughter. And it just irked you until you spoke up.

"We'll I think it could be fun for a date?" You say interrupting the loud conversation. It was a numbing silence for a fraction of a second before Brian spoke.

"Well, it's because your standards are low since you can't even seem to find a boyfriend." Came a quick response from Brian's mouth. The boys gasped and blew up with sudden laughter.

Regrets flash across Brian's face instantly when he sees you speechless, with hurt written on your brow, but you're fighting against it. Sally puts her hand on your arm, worried about you. The boys don't seem to notice anything wrong. But Brian notices.

He didn't realize what he said. He was just so annoyed and wanted someone else to be teased instead of him.

You feel hot, and your skin is prickly. That was really mean. It hurt. You weren't so sure why. Because what he said was true. But it hurt because it came from him.

Your thoughts flashed back to the origami heart that you've been keeping in your bedside table, it actually means nothing to him. And all the other hearts that he must have made this week and before. All just folded paper and nothing more.

But you swallow the feeling down somehow and focus back on your partner and the project for the rest of the class.

But that night, in your bed, under the covers, frustrated tears fall into your pillow.

Am I ugly? No one has ever wanted me. No one has ever seen me. Aren't I good enough for anyone?

Brian wouldn't ever see you in that way. You hate it, hate him. Hate yourself. He made you feel like you mattered to him, but you must have made it all up in your head, a boy has never been nice to you until Brian, so you didn't know any better. He won't ever see you that way.

🎒🎒🎒🎒

The next week at school you try to act like you always have, havung a better understanding now that Brian is simply the way he is. So you become a little distant. He notices of course. He's been thinking about what he said over and over. And hates himself, he's never liked saying sorry in all his life. But now he's scared for the first time that he might be losing you if he dosent act. You won't even look at his eyes anymore. Like you find it too painful to do so.

During lunch break, he finds you, he asks, unsure how to converse naturally.

"Hey, how's your project with Sally going?" He says. Then you realize 'he must have never stopped liking Sally even from the start of the year. It was so obvious, why didn't I see it?'

"It's going well, actually. we're almost done. Did you want to tag along bri? We're gonna be at the library after school to finish up." You think maybe you can help him get Sally to see that he's a really nice guy.

Brain seems nervous but says yes straight away. He must really like her, you think.

After school, once you all meet up and finish off studying at the library, you insist on going home first and leave to catch your bus. Brian tries to ask you to hang out longer. But Sally lets you go and wants to speak to brian alone. Sally seems like she has something serious to tell him.

You smile a little in sadness, its working out well, it seems.

📚📚📚📚

Brian Pov

She left me here with sally. Avoiding me again. I watch as her back disappears out the front doors. Then Sally hits me on the arm.

"Ow! What's your problem?"

"You!"

"What did I do to you?"

"Not what you've done to me! But to her!! all year, you've been making googly eyes at her, and the other day, you treat her like crap! You need to fix this and apologize, and then leave her alone if you're only going to hurt her feelings because of your ignorant attitude."

"I don't know what you mean"

"I see everything brian, like how you doodle on her notebooks, and talk quietly to her, how you giggle under your breath at her jokes. You honestly can't be more obvious how you treat her special, but then you turn on her so quickly like that. It's such a dick move. An asshole move"

He puts his face in his hands in shame. "God, I AM an asshole!!" Brian is on the brink of breaking down."Do you think she hates me now? I messed up so badly."

"Tell her you're sorry face to face. Whatever she does to you after that is up to her. Though since we're talking about her, she will probably forgive you. But if you want to finally tell her you like her, this might be your best chance "

Brian blushes red, "w-what, I don't like her like that-"

"Why do you bother lying, brian?"

"It really isn't- ughh."

Brian quickly rushes after where you left. And found you sitting at the bus shelter, he looks at the digital sign it says your bus arrives in 20 mins

He looks down at you, and you're already looking at him sheepishly. You've been caught.

"Your bus isn't even here till another 20 mins!" Brian almost yells, but he's playfully scolding you like you normally do. You look down and smile. Brian loves that, your little shy grin.

"How did it go with Sally?" You ask hopefully.

"Good. But I don't want to talk about that. I need to tell you some stuff. Uh, the first one is that..I said something the other day. I just-"

"It's okay, I get it, I overreacted-"

"No, you didnt- Wait. It wasn't that. My point is i'm sorry for what i said, I think I hurt you. It's not cool of me. I'm always battling my asshole-ary every day, you know that. But you didn't deserve it. So I'm sorry"

"You are, forgiven." And you give him a small closed lip smile.

"Oh really? Already? Well, and, um, the 2nd thing is. There's something I have to ask you-" Your bus comes and stops loudly in front of them. Brian is flustered. You are conflicted, there's only one bus every hour for this route, you should take this bus. But you want to wait for Brian to finish.

"Um, Brian, think I should take this bus"

"Oh, yeah of course! Tomorrow then!"

"Ok, see ya bri"

As you climb up the door to pay and look back at Brian, the bus then pulls away, and you miss his sad little frown and his green eyes following you as your image fades down the street.

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

The next day in class, Brian pulls out another origami heart he worked on last night and slides it over to you. The teacher notices it and warns everyone about passing notes in class. You grab the note and see what it says.

"Good morning beautiful! Plz open me" you frown at being called beautiful. Glancing over at him, he smirks.

Nervous, you open it carefully. Inside it says something that makes her heart race and break at the same time.

"Let's go to Mickeys tonight, it's my treat" then you hear a snickering from a few desks away, it was one of his boys looking over at you.

🍟🍟🍟🍟

You go to Mickeys, you think he's just asked you out as a friend, but he seems to be as nervous as you are, but you dont want to get your hopes up.

After having your meal in awkward silence, he asks you as casually as he can muster.

"So, I was thinking, do you want a second date?"

"Huh? D-date?"

"Y-you know, we went to Mickeys-- like you said! This is like, a date for you"

"…are you..like- just- teasing me? Hahaah…like you're mocking me? You rascal" You laugh nervously, voice trembling all over the place. Trying to hide the sudden emotions that came with realizing what this was all about. He just wanted to humor you.

"Huh? What? No? He laughs. Mickeys is like, your standard right? For like- like a date?"

"Well, no-"

"And-and, I mean I- we hadn't hung out like together yet.. as friends, and like you haven't been on a date before…I thought maybe..i could, be someone you-"

"So you're… helping me?" You laugh comes out jumpy and strange sounding "Oh, wooow,..I um, thanks man. That's just so, thoughtful of you" and you uncharacteristically lean over to punch his arm, you cringe for the fifth time. And he rubs the spot you bumped him.

"But, um, you know I think that maybe we should go on dates with people we actually have feelings for, don't you think? But, thanks for the offer" you shrug and try to laugh it off, but it feels too loud and fake in your ears.

"So no...date?" He looks kind of paler than usual.

You start to gather your trash. "I just realized i need to get home, sorry I can't stay much longer Bri. This was…fun. Bye!" Practically running away.

You don't understand what had just happened. You don't understand Brian at all. Was he that experienced in dating that he could give you a trial of it? That he felt pitty for you?

Your whole body felt hot from embarrassment. And a hard lump has been stuck in your throat ever since you received his little note in class. You practically speed walk all the way home sobbing into your Hoodie.

💛💛💛💛

"Good for you."

"Huh?" Sally is talking to you, Brian is late for your class it seems.

"I got…some tea, from a little bird, or something like that. That you rejected Brian"

"When did I do that?"

"Uh, didn't you go to Mickeys with him the other day?"

"I did." Has he gone and told everyone about it?

"I'm sorry, but I can't pretend that i didn't know. It just happened to be the same day he left a voice message on my phone, and I connected the dots that it was about you. " This made you sad without realizing it. They've been talking?

"Oh, he did?" But you guess it's good that they're getting to know each other.

"Don't look so sad! It wasn't like that, that boy sounded mad over the phone, he was mad at first. Saying stuff on the message like 'you were wrong about everything!' And that 'he was dumb.' But then he just..started crying. Well it sounded like crying. You didn't do that to him?" You stare a Sally perplexed at what it all meant.

"Explain please"

Sally looked at you for a moment and seemed ro realize something then began waving her hands 'no' at you "Ooooooh, wait no, I think you should talk to him about it, i've said too much"

"No, say it please! I'm tired of him playing with me."

"Ughhh, well he..he thought that you liked him, so…and I thought you did too! But then when you clearly don't, which is okay…he's just. It's just sad. He's going through it right now."

"But I don't know why he would be so upset, it's not like he likes me? He likes..someone else."

"You…think so? Huh. Well, I think it's best if you talk to him about this"

"But-"

"It's best if two of you talk"

"No-"

Then, at that moment, Brian walks in late to class and rushes over to his seat between you and Sally.

"You're tardy, Mr Wilcox, which is actually a first. Take your seat."

He acting stiff and can barely look at you.

Normally, you could get his attention and whisper things to him comfortably, but right now, he's so distant that you just decided to message him on your phone.

R U working tonight?

No Thurs

Ok, do u wna study w me n Sally tonight?

No that's ok u guys can just work on ur project together

Oh ok

And that went on for the rest of the lesson. His cold shoulder. Bothered by this you messing him again.

Ur being weird, is this about the other day? I appreciated ur idea, but I just didn't want ppl to confuse our friendship.

Idea?

Yeah like you giving me dating 'experience' without having an actual bf

What?????

She didn't reply after that message out of frustration. Why is he acting like he has no idea what he's been doing to you?

Nevermind Brian

Hey

You know what? I can get a boyfriend anytime if I want.

You hear a sharp gasp quickly after sending your last text. "Hey." He tries to tap your shoulder, but the teacher tells him off right away.

You give him the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. He looks over at you desperately for the rest of that week.

🍔🍔🍔🍔

Thursday comes by. You come to visit Mickeys with Warren, a guy you sometimes talk to in your IT class. You told Warren that there's a guy you like and want to see if he would feel anything if he saw you with someone else. It was stupid, you know it. You promised to buy him a Mickeys meal if he helped you.

You and Warren order at the counter, a sullen Brian takes your order, and you still haven't talked to one another since. And it's eating him inside, and now you're here with someone else? He disappeared to the back once your order was placed.

You receive your burgers and sit down at your table to eat. It was a normal, peaceful few moments until Brian came sprinting out of the kitchen to stop you from eating

"NO, no stop!"

"What! Brian, what's wrong??"

"No, just- don't eat that- I-" You stare at him lost for words, shame written on his face.

"I'm sorr- I just thought -" his face was crumbling, and the shame was turning into sadness. His eyes are glassy with emotion. He buried his face in his hands, defeated. "Never mind, it all makes sense."

"What does?"

"Why you won't like me."

Long silence came after what he said, only broken by Warren slowly getting up to walk away and saying that hes gonna use the bathroom. But either of you actually notice.

"…why I 'won't like you?' Why would that matter, Brian? Why? You like someone, that's who that matters."

"YES, I do. And it DOES."

"Huh??"

"I-im an asshole sometimes. But I know that you know that already, so that can't be the reason. And I'm not much to look at, but. But I've never cared if anyone liked how I looked. It never mattered to me so much before. But I wish I was more, like conventionally appealing. But i mean, that can't be why, you're not that kind of person- but is that why? Or, or- no. Or it's simply because I'm me. Because I'm Brian, the type of asshole that defiles a fucking burger???"

"Brian, please, it's hard for me to understand…"

"I put a LOOGIE in your patty"

"Excuse me????" Not the words you were expecting.

"It was meant for him!!"

"Warren?"

"Yes!"

"Are you somehow, jealous??"

"Yes!"

"And why??"

"Because I like you, and you hate me!"

A painful silence fills the restaurant. Looking around, Brian catches his manager, looking at him disapprovingly. But Brian mouths to him, "just resolving an issue"

"Ok, but lower your voice"

Brian sighs, putting his attention back to you. Sitting there still stunned at his confession. "Let me take that burger back. I'll make you a new one"

"No." You make a mad grab at the box, but Brian had the same thought as you. He now had the other side of the box in his hand.

"Give it!"

"Let go, brian"

"What's the problem!?"

You rip it out of his clasp, open the box, and proceed to scuff the burger down your throat.

"What are you doing?? No!! Why did you do that? I had my saliva in that???"

"Do you think I would do that if I didn't like you?"

A hundred emotions pass through Brian's face in the silence that came after that bizarre display.

"You… like me?"

"Was me eating your foul burger not clear enough?"

"Well no. But. You…like me?"

"I have, like always"

"...me?" His eyes are glassy looking at you in something that looks like hope.

But instead of saying anymore to reassure his low self-esteem just how much you think a he's great guy, you start to cry. And you don't have a clue why. Just that you're so happy he finally knows.

"I really like you too. Like always" and just like in a movie, he reaches out with a finger and gently wipes a tear off your cheek.

[riddler-green]

Tea for three. Prologue

Summary: You have been a patient/prisoner of Arkham for several months since you were charged with a crime you did not commit. But what happens when you meet Batman's latest enemy? the man of the hour? In which you help Batman on his cases, you're Edward's new favorite person, and Jonathan is part of your past that you want so badly to return to.

Edward Nashton x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader, Jonathan Crane x reader.

A/n: Holaaa everyone! here I am posting another story that I thought of in a sleepless night, I think it's one of my most ambitious fics that I've been planning but that makes it cooler! I should clarify that this fanfic is mixed with the 2022 movie with the Nolan saga (but in such a minuscule way that it's barely imperceivable). I'm back from my vacation so I'll update my other work soon! ♡

I also want to clarify that English is not my first language, so an apologize for the spelling mistakes. ✧˖°. (My English is rusty :´p).

(Also this fanfic is published on AO3) ✿

Warning: Fluff and angst, Obsessive Behavior, Canon Compliant (the flood occurred, sorry) Movie spoiler (Batman 2022) if there is another warning I did not put, please let me know.

Words: 5,400

You stroll as two guards lead you to a room, you don't know where they are taking you but it's not like you could complain either. The guards behind you ignored you all the way chatting with each other as if they were not watching an Arkham patient, they let you into the individual visiting room. Still, you nicknamed it the interrogation room because you only come here when that person requests your presence.

You sit down without a problem in the stiff metal chair, the approving noise of the iron partition sounds throughout the place, and you hear one of the guards closing the door leaving you alone with him.

At first, it was tedious, even traumatic in a way to come to this room to talk to the person who captured you and brought you to Arkham without hesitation. You couldn't refuse to see him, not when the caped man is a colleague of an important commissioner. No matter how many times you told him, how many times you yelled at him that you were innocent, he either didn't believe you or just wouldn't listen. You got tired of telling everyone around you that it wasn't your fault, none of them listened to you.

The metal partition rises completely, and little by little you see the almost imperceptible figure of the knight of the night. He kept silent without sitting down, standing in front of you analyzing you as everyone does nowadays, but you no longer care what he thinks of you, you are practically a hopeless case for him.

"Hello?" your greeting sounded confusing, you were not expecting a visit from him, but you have an idea why he comes to you, on certain occasions he shows you cases of different indoles, also that he has found some clue of the…

"I'm looking for the Riddler" He doesn't greet you and moves closer to the glass that separates them, you can take a better look at him, he's still the same since the last time you saw him, his attire nor his face have changed at all, but you notice something different in his voice, is it tiredness you hear?

"The Riddler?" you look at him unclear as to what he means "Who is that?".

"A serial killer" he informs you, you often hear those terrible words from him, how often does Batman chase killers like that, it's like there's one every week, it's cruel but it's the truth, Gotham is the cradle of evil, hell on earth, some would say.

"And what have I got to do with him?" you ask hesitantly.

Batman leaves a gray folder in the crack that connects the two rooms as if it were a mailbox "I need to know your perspective".

For a moment you thought about rejecting whatever is in that folder, but your curiosity won you over, you slowly grabbed the folder somewhat heavy because of the many sheets stored, on the cover of the folder you can see a CLASSIFIED in capital letters, that fuels your interest even more and you open the folder.

It's a lot to take in at once, you open your eyes from the initial shock, you haven't seen so much blood since your clinical internship days, you close the folder for a few seconds to recover, and you look Batman in the eye with a frown, he didn't even warn you how grotesque the case could be. 

Batman looks back at you completely seriously, he looks immutable and silent. You open the folder again and are greeted by the same disturbing images "Wow, it's something " you comment uneasily.

You see the evidence, black and white photos of the murders stapled to the autopsy reports, it is amazing how this man can have such information. the more time you spend reading the events and the evidence the more disturbed you become. 

Mayor Don Mitchell Jr, mayor of Gotham for several years, you saw him once at a social event done by Gotham University, he was happy and smiling maybe because of the excess alcohol in his veins. but now you look at the crime scene, his face completely wrapped in duct tape.

"No more lies..." you whisper reading the message on the corpse of the mayor, then that was with an already established motive, to give a statement.

On the other hand, Commissioner Savage's body is barely recognizable, the cage on his head says it all.

This is no ordinary killer.

What have you gotten yourself into, batman?

"why are you showing me this?" you manage to ask him even with the murders fresh in your mind, you don't think you will sleep tonight.

The already-seated masked man repeats to you "I need to know your perspective".

"As a patient or as a psychologist?" technically you can no longer practice your career since they took away your degree, but he doesn't correct you, you peruse everything that was offered, the riddles, the pictures of all the letters he has left for Batman, descriptions of the crime scene, write-ups of the witnesses who found the bodies.

"Both" he declares.

The handcuffs on your wrists do not give you much freedom to move your arms but do not prevent you from handling the documents in the folder, if Batman thought this might interest you he was right, for better or worse you did not stop seeing file after file.

"How extravagant," you say your first impressions "Brusque with his victims, he really is angry" You turn the page to see the pictures of his riddles "But he is also ingenious, this is not prepared from one day to another, he has been planning this for a long time, I would say years".

"Angry at who?" the man in front of you asks but you don't answer him instantly, you take your time carefully reading all the research, it's a lot for only one killer and few victims, but it's nothing that can be used to find him.

"With the world" you turn the page to see Commissioner Savage's crime scene photo "The pattern is evident, the mayor...the commissioner...does not kill ordinary civilians." 

"Do you think it's political?".

You barely smile at the mere idea that this is just politics "No, this is too intimate for him, riddles are an essential part of his life that he knows how to use to his advantage...and I only come to one conclusion..." you shut up and rearrange the documents to close the folder. 

"What is it?" batman questions you with intrigue in his voice.

You see him again, he must be desperate somehow to find this Riddler who asks for the opinions of third parties, of "crazy" people like you, something he dislikes, he prefers to work alone, that's his emblem. Deep down it angers you to no end, he hasn't caught your living nightmare and he's already looking for another asshole.

"That" you passed him the folder through the crack in the partition between rooms, and he retrieves it in his hands "Is revenge, Batman, and a very wicked one."

"Give me a diagnosis" he speaks faster, and the anger starts to seep into his face and it satisfies you to sometimes see him like this, frustrated Batman...yeah that's a first.

you smile and relax in your stiff metal seat "You should ask Dr. Crane for that, he's more prepared than I am, don't you think?".

"He refused" You'd know he'd turn it down, he's not like Batman or you, he doesn't even like to play Clue.

"yeah, he doesn't have the hobby of playing detective" you shrug your shoulders "I can't give you a diagnosis because it's little, he has left only what he wants us to know, maybe he includes you in this because he admires you or because he wants to kill you, who knows" you blurt out everything you think without any shame, in your mind you are already putting together a criminal profile with only what he gave you, but you won't tell him that, he doesn't deserve your help.

The masked man's posture tenses and he begins to clench his fists, your smile grows. 

"all that, all those little clues he leaves you make me think this is all a big riddle on his part" You pointed to the folder held by one of his gloved hands.

"I don't think he's going to stop until he sees everyone on his list dead."

What you told him seemed to affect him, because he suddenly gets up and goes to the door without looking at you, and he found no news "I can't waste time" he whispers with disdain, he leaves the room and you stand watching the door where he left.

So it's a riddle against the clock, huh? you think.

The sky in Gotham looks like a landscape worthy to take a picture of, from here you can see the buildings of different heights, the traffic between highways, and the bridges, even if you force your sight you can see people walking.

"Do you like the view?".

You continue to look through the window reinforced with bars and tempered glass, the bars cover part of the landscape but you can still admire the beautiful gray sky full of clouds ready to rain.

"yes..." you say putting your hands between the bars without stopping to think how happy you would be just to be out of this abyss. you didn't appreciate the beauty of the freedom you had before you were here.

"What do you like most about the view?".

You take a few seconds to respond, the handcuffs on your wrists started to itch on your skin, that itch so normalized on your skin that you don't do much to get rid of that itch, you didn't look away from the window, this simple reinforced window brought you comfort for all these months.

"Everything."

"You hear the voice of your therapist repeat your answer and nod, will your cafeteria still be open? The Gotham Library will have finally added new books? the university will have already changed that horrible lamp in one of your favorite classrooms? 

Batman already caught the Riddler?

"What a good answer actually, but I need you to sit down for a further conversation, soon the session will be over" The doctor's professional tone makes you tense up, you feel like you are not talking to a human but to a fucking robot, that's how you have thought them since you were imposed to this therapist.

You listen to what you say and sit in the other chair where you are supposed to be for the whole session, however, Mr. M has let you have the sessions while you watch from the only window, you are grateful for that, even if you didn't like him at all.

"I have been informed about your good behavior this week, if you continue like this you can be given more access through the hospital" Mr.M speaks calmly looking through several documents held by a wooden board.

Fuck you, you thought but didn't tell him, you don't have the luxury of being rude to him. you'll never get the same freedom you got when you were still an average citizen of Gotham and it saddens you, it makes your blood boil to remember every moment of your existence that you're here unjustly.

"Thank you" You speak as little as possible because you know you would break down in tears just remembering that you are another day of your life wasted locked up among so many criminals.

"But" Mr.M stops looking at his documents to turn to look at you "I was also told that you refuse to take your medication, why is that?".

"Why don't I need them" you speak cuttingly again, the itch in your wrists grows and you scratch with your fingernails without realizing it.

"you have to take his medicine...it will make your recovery process more enjoyable" he grabs his tablet with documents and writes again, Mr.M does not scold you but you perceive it like this, you want to go back to your cell, you feel so ashamed that your skin gets hot, how did you come to this? How did you fall so low that you are the one they have to medicate? 

"Fine" you lie to him, you dislike the taste of the medicine they force you to take, you know perfectly well what they prescribe you, you studied for it after all.

But everyone seems to forget that.

Only Batman can recognize your abilities, but he does not help you at all in your case.

And well, you paranoidly believe that Jonathan is only talking to you out of unconscious guilt.

"Okey" Mr. M gives a soft smile "Just one last question before our time is up" he checks the time on his wrist watch "Have you made a new friend? Have you managed to get along with anyone?".

You avoid the gaze of your therapist "No" you denied, another issue you don't want to address, your notorious loneliness in this hospital. If it weren't for your unique best friend who works here, you would be all alone.

"Why?."

You don't answer him, you also question the same thing, you haven't had an interest to socialize with the other patients since you arrived, and there are still things that are not clear to you.

Mr. M sighs dropping his papers in a file cabinet near him "Well, I'll leave it as homework for you to start seeing new people, making a friend sounds excellent."

"I'll try" You don't lie to him.

"Perfect."

It's been a day since Batman visited you and you had your weekly session with Mr.M, you haven't been able to sleep due to the tremendous curiosity of the new assassin the bat is looking for.

Just when you thought nothing could surprise you in this city since your accident, along comes a man with a question mark and puts the whole city in check, that's the city to him, a colossal chessboard, the DPGC, the Gotham elite, the citizens, they are all pieces in the game, and Batman and he are the only players.

Batman said he didn't have time, Does that mean that he has to catch him these days? how curious, with the Joker, it took months to find him, you were only intercepted in a couple of hours, and the Scarecrow...

no, you don't want to think about him.

You get distracted thinking about the Riddler again, you do your daily service arranging books in the small library of Arkham, your safe place where few or no people stop around these parts, here it is not necessary to use your wrist and neck cuffs, but your uniform is still on, and the plastic bracelet with your information identify you as a patient.

You yawn as you place a couple of worn-out books on the shelf, you felt like a bookstore worker, sometimes you usually fantasize that you are one to take away your boredom, but others usually burst your dreamy bubble.

Today, one of the guards decided to turn on the old-fashioned TV set in one of the upper corners of the library, you stand near a bookcase to see what channel they put on this time, usually they only put on the sports channel to watch the game of the moment.

But on this occasion, the guard put on the news channel, and you immediately put down the books you have to accommodate to concentrate on what is shown on TV.

The guard is still standing and so are you, both watching a live breaking news broadcast. The news anchor reports a new Riddler attack.

He bombed a prosecutor at the mayor's funeral.

The guard's face looked more and more frightened, you watched the news with morbid curiosity. Batman's new opponent seems more sadistic than you thought, that detailed report confirmed it.

But seeing their repeated acts on TV was shocking, you even heard the guard who put on the news say in a low voice " We are doomed. "

You silently agree with him, for the first time you are relieved to be locked away from all the chaos going on right now.

You saw how the explosion managed to reach Batman, surprising you as the guard, the man takes off his distinctive security guard hat when he sees the video, on the other hand, you are still stunned, not believing it, somehow you forgot that this man dressed in black and wearing a cape is still a human of flesh and blood, he simply can't die like that, not when he has things to save, people to capture.

He hasn't found your living nightmare yet.

Before you pull your hair out in frustration the news anchor states that Batman is still alive, the guard satisfied by the information puts his cap back on and returns to his guard position which is the entrance to the library.

You are still looking at the report, and suddenly the image of the man who calls himself the Riddler appears. You hadn't seen him in such detail until this moment, the photos in the Batman report were extremely blurry images, but this time he is in HD, he is completely wrapped in green clothes, and the only thing you can see of him, is his eyes. 

His voice is altered but you can notice that venomous tone of his he asked prosecutor Gil Colson some riddles, but in the end, he couldn't answer what Riddler wanted.

You sigh while grab another couple of books and start arranging them one by one. If Batman is still alive it means this isn't over.

"I knew I would find you here".

"It's not like I can go many places" You smile slightly turning to look at the man who spoke to you. 

Jonathan Crane, the living legend of the hospital, with tailored suits, no wrinkles in his coat, and a well-made tie that matches the sweater he wears under his coat. There isn't a single time you haven't seen Jonathan without his perfect appearance but maybe it's just you idealizing as usual. 

Jonathan gives you a polite smile "Right" Just by hearing that you know he won't stay to chat for long, he tends to contradict you most of the time just to annoy you and agree with you when he's busy.

"Are you coming to get a book?" you ask him the first thing that comes to mind.

"No, I wanted to talk to you before I left," he says adjusting his glasses "I'm going away for a couple of weeks to blüdhaven University to give lectures, it will be a simple thing" Your smile doesn't falter, you are touched that he lets you know when he won't be able to see you, and how he manages to keep the conversation so casual. 

As if they were still colleagues.

"Is that so? What will you talk about?".

"Childhood traumas" he reveals looking at you without any shyness, he has a barely perceptible smile but you notice it. 

"why am I not surprised?" you resume your work in arranging books "Although you know how to pick interesting topics, I wish I could attend" You recognize that Jonathan has been too devoted to his work and student life, he is that kind of strict professor who gives his students nightmares from the assignments and exams he gives. His lectures are fascinating, to say the least, you attended many.

"I'll tell you about it when I get back, in the meantime" From inside his suit he pulls out a  flyer in half "It's something extremely summarized but it'll do" You take the piece of paper and stuff it in one of your pockets. It's not the first time Jonathan smuggles things to you, god, you can even be sure he gives you something every time you see each other. 

"Thank you" you thanked looking at his face, he also remains silent looking at you, the eye contact between you is not something out of another world either, on your part, it's a habit that started when you were still studying, you can't help but want to observe everyone around you, analyze them somehow, see their behavior.

Jonathan does the same, but more rigorous and practical, he is direct and not afraid to say it, you see his hair combed to his liking, his glasses clean without any smudge, his eyes examining you. 

You leave your admiring mode when you diverted your gaze a little to the old TV that is still on, the news keeps showing the latest events of the hours, repeating the most recent crime of Riddler.

Your smile dims as you recall the video of the explosion, the prosecutor begging for mercy and the bomb stuck in his chest.

"Did you see what happened at the mayor's funeral?" you whisper to him in a low voice trying not to let anyone hear them, you look with your eyes for the guard on duty but you can't find him, Jonathan must have asked him for some privacy time, at times you forget the influence that the man in front of you has generated with years and effort.

He turns his head for a few seconds watching the news on TV and turns to look at you again with a sensible and neutral face. 

"yes, I saw it, I was there when it happened".

"What?" you utter with surprise "You were there?" there was no sign of a lie on his face to make you think he wasn't telling you the truth.

"Some teachers from the university we went to give condolences when the show happened" Jonathan clarifies simply, you approach him to talk closer, he doesn't seem upset "So it's true? Riddler attacked that prosecutor?".

"He killed him."

You shut up for a moment because of his statement, it's true, Riddler killed him, and almost Batman too.

"And Batman? Did you see him in action?" at this point you sound like first-rate gossip, but still Jonathan answers your questions, but is no longer as pleased doing so, the moment you mention Batman. 

"He arrived when most of the people had already been evacuated."

"Wow" you blurt out surprised, if you didn't know him better you would have been uneasy with his calmness when talking about the experience, he says it without any fear because that's exactly what's so special about Jonathan in your eyes, he's not afraid of anything.   

"Batman looked you up, didn't he?" Jonathan changes the subject quickly and you nod your head, you move away from his side to reach for a cart full of books to be arranged "He wanted my opinion on the riddler, can you believe it?" you laugh "I told him to look you up better, but you turned him down."

"That's right" he assures leaning on one of the bookcases for comfort, he looks at you picking up a book and you place it among several other books on another bookcase "I don't lend myself to that sort of thing".

"I know, killjoy Crane" you scoff boldly.

"Whatever you say" he sighs "I have to go, there will be a meeting at the university" Before you could say goodbye properly, he approaches you to give you an extremely momentary hug, it was so fast that you couldn't return the hug because he had already separated from you. You swore you could smell some of his cologne.

"uh yeah, see ya" You are barely able to utter the words without getting over the small contact they made, he has said goodbye to you like this, but you are still not used to it.

Jonathan smiles at you picking up his briefcase that you didn't see in the first place, walks to one of the tables where the TV control is, picks it up, and turns off the TV "I don't like you watching that" he tells you already heading for the exit where the guard re-enters the library.

You wrinkle your forehead due to irritation. Sometimes you don't understand Jonathan.

You genuinely thought your head was going to explode from the pain. 

Being in Arkham meant being cut off from the outside, you had no idea of the chaos that erupted overnight, the perverse game of Batman and Riddler was so forceful, that Arkham unexpectedly came into the spotlight when the green-masked man was captured. An alert in your head went off when you heard from a very nervous guard. You thought it was almost impossible for Batman to catch Riddler, and that he's here being processed to this hospital gives a lot to suspect.

The report Batman showed you are not wrong, the madman of riddles is too elusive to be caught in such a short time.

Why? You ask yourself, why did he let himself be defeated?

The hospital was in chaos with the arrival of the new patient in the middle of the night, nurses running around, and security guards moving patients to different cells temporarily, you were taken out of your small cell to another one just as small and almost the same.

Even with suspicion in your being, you don't understand what all the fuss was about, not even when they paraded the Joker through the main hall in a straitjacket as if he were a villain from some movie did they get as upset as they are now with Riddler.  

You sat on your new bed just as hard as the one in your previous cell, not wanting to catch the social panic you try to meditate, Mr. M advised you to do so and since then you put it into practice.

Maintaining a state of relaxation is difficult but you have practiced it for months, you started the breathing exercises, and as you slowly inhale and exhale your thoughts begin to melt one after the other, calming you down, and making your anxiety about all the fuss disappear.

You exhale again and inhale hard again, you could be doing this all day, you have nothing to worry about, you're in your world, locked away from society, and must be recovering from whatever Riddler did as his closing snap.

You open your eyes and stop doing your breathing exercises, you hear a laugh. But not just any laughter, but a loud and annoying laughter, you instantly get up from your bed and run towards the door with a small glass window. The laughter was not your imagination, and you can recognize it now that you are closer to the door.

You don't see any guards guarding this section of cells, how strange. The laughter continues unabated. It must be some neighbor of your cell because of the proximity of the noise and you have an idea of who it might be but you ignore it for only a few minutes, you can't take it anymore and yell "Can you shut up for once?".

Your cell neighbor stops laughing and you can finally feel at peace, but instead starts a conversation.

"Scarecrow?" you close your eyes just hearing that horrible nickname he gave you at some point during his hospital stay. relatively the two have been in Arkham for a similar amount of time, both trapped by Batman and calling them the dark knight's worst enemies. 

But you could never compare yourself to someone like him Joker. 

You had a chance to get to know each other when you let him participate in common activities, you don't want to remember the first time you spoke to each other, it ended badly, period.

"Don't call me that, asshole" you insult him and he sounds pleased with your response.

"Ah! Are we sensitive today? It's a holiday! Let's celebrate!" 

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"our guest of honor has arrived, only his final trick is missing!" he continues to speak in that animated voice that irritates you.

When you talk to the Joker you get that feeling that he is speaking in another language, but he is not, you understand what you are saying but at the same time, you don't. You also realized that he knows too much to be just an Arkham patient. 

But everyone at the hospital can assure you that your neighbor is not an ordinary patient at all.

This time you managed to understand his words, Riddler still has an ace up his sleeve, how could the Joker find out about that?

"Did Batman interrogate you too?".

"Of course he did...I'm his favorite!" he replies in the same arrogant manner as always "but I don't forgive him for being so crude on our anniversary."

"So you saw it, huh? I don't think this is a coincidence" You suppose the Joker must have seen it too, of course, he may be reciprocally insupportable but he's not stupid.

The clown laughs, but you don't, you didn't say anything funny in your opinion.

"Poor little Riddler, he thinks he can be just like him."

You ponder what he says, returning to your bed as you sit up again, the sky begins to clear and you can see it through the tiny barred window.

What if this assassin wanted to imitate Batman in some way? 

"What a bizarre introjection you've made, Riddler" you whisper.

First, there was an explosion.

You felt the whole cell rumble, you woke up instantly and got up from your bed to run to the door even with your eyes swollen from sleep, naively you thought it was some kind of earthquake. You stuck your face to the glass of the door in search of a guard or nurse, whatever it is that will help you get out of this cell, you don't want to die here.

However, the section was still empty, there was no one in the guards' small surveillance cubicle, and you could only perceive the monitors on, showing the news. 

You heard a completely strident noise, there was no earthquake. You turned slowly to the window, the color was changing from gray to orange.

It can't be.

you rush to see what's going on, you grab a piece of your bed to climb on it and reach the high window of the cell, you level yourself by holding your hands on the rusty metal bars, and you catch a glimpse of what caused such a noise. 

You saw the light of an explosion, the combination of yellow and red colors coloring the sky, the smoke, the fire. The explosion happened far away from Arkham, but you can still see it in detail, then the noise became present, and you grimace at the impact on the walls, but it was not over yet.

Explosion after explosion went off all over the city, from bridges to seawalls, a scene so hard to believe if you weren't watching it right now.

The sight takes your breath away, you are so stunned that you almost fall to the floor witnessing such an act, this is what the Joker is referring to? the Riddler's final trick?

not even the scarecrow did so much damage to this city, you underestimated the man with the riddles.

You could not take your eyes off the explosions, there were too many and well-armed to generate so much destruction. The second thing was the water, the waves and drains getting out of control and flooding several streets.

You grip the metal bars tighter, not believing this is real, but it is. Not just bombs but a flood, was that what he had under his mask? Is Gotham drowning with innocent people? 

It makes sense now, his cooperation when caught, the guards' restless attitude, and Batman's uneasiness.

All.

Suddenly you focus on the bustle of what seems to be your cell neighbors, you didn't notice when they put the other patient in the cell next to yours. The noises came together to form a horrifying atmosphere. The laughter of the Joker, the excited laughter of your other neighbor, and the explosions that went on and on. Even with your breathing exercises, you could not relax in the face of this horrifying event.

Slowly you let go of the bars and stop looking in the window, slowly you understand one thing.

Someone beat Batman.

Thank you very much for reading! And sorry for the mistakes!*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧.

[pictureinme]

kinktober day xxi. FREE USE – calvin weir-fields

word count: ~900 tags: unsafe sex, lots o' begging, typical possessive calvin behavior, nylon stockings >;) masterlist | ao3

You hum a nondescript tune as you dust the bookshelves for what seems like the twentieth time this month– how could dust and muck accumulate so fast? As you reach for a particularly high shelf, you feel a hand sneak its way between your thighs, causing you to gasp.

There was no need for you to turn around, you knew it was your boyfriend Calvin’s hand that was quickly making its way to rub at your clothed entrance. He had a tendency to take what he wanted when he wanted it, and you didn’t exactly object to such a tantalizing quirk of his.

He seemed to revel in the feeling of your nylon stockings and your lack of panties– why even wear them when he was so keen on doing things like this day in and day out?

“It seems pretty dusty up there, doesn’t it?” Calvin hums as he circles your clit through the thin fabric, acting as if nothing was amiss. “You’re such a good girlfriend, cleaning this up for me.”

You shudder as he speeds up his movements, trying your best not to moan. He presses himself against your back, and you feel his hardness– breaking that tentative hold you had on your noises. His fingers move with a newfound urgency, matching the rhythm of your breaths as they grow heavier and more desperate.

“That’s it,” Calvin whispers into your ear, his voice low and dripping with desire. “Just let me take care of everything for you.”

He bends you over slightly, your hands grasping at the shelving as his fingers move away from where you need him most. Before you can turn around, Calvin’s touch comes back tenfold as he quickly rips open your delicate stockings. You gasp quietly as he does so, the act so perverted in nature– but not unwelcome in the slightest. You also knew better than to question what he was doing.

“Look at that,” Calvin traces your folds with a single finger, collecting your arousal, “Always so wet for me– you’re perfect. Bet you were thinking of me taking you like this the whole time, right? Just couldn’t wait for me to be done writing…”

He spreads you open further with a grab at your ass, and you can’t help but arch your back in response, “Please, Cal–!”

It turned him on like nothing else to see you as desperate as he was for this, “Beg for it.”

“Please, I need you so badly,” you whisper, embarrassed at your growing want.

Calvin hums as he starts to unzip his slacks, “You can do better than that, baby, come on.”

“Need you to make me yours, use me, just… anything. Please.”

“That’s more like it,” he chuckles softly at your words as his tip teases at your entrance. “Not so hard, was it? We both know how badly you need this.”

He enters you slowly, groaning at the feeling of you wrapped around him. You whine as he settles all the way inside of you, gripping the shelf like it was your only tether.

“Such a good girl, letting me use you like this, fuck,” he grips your hips tightly for emphasis, “All mine, right?”

“Yes, yes!”

Calvin begins to move quickly, setting the pace as a brutal one. His mouth hangs open in a perpetual moan as he feels every part of you, “Mine, mine…”

Each powerful thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making it difficult for you to form any coherent thoughts.

"You like that, don't you?" He asks between heavy breaths, his voice hoarse with desire. “Like it when I fuck you like a slut– whenever I want, however I want?”

Nodding, trying to think straight, you gasp out, “Love it so much, please, Cal…”

“Please what?” Calvin pulls you back towards him by your hair, the grip making you see stars. “Use your words.”

“Please use me, please, fuck!” You were practically drunk with lust at this point, and so was he.

“That’s right, beg for it,” he lets go of your hair to fuck you harder, moving your hips back onto his length like you were a toy. “Such a perfect girl, God…”

You moan at his praise as he uses you as you begged for, the angle at which he was fucking you allowed you to feel every inch of pleasure he was giving you perfectly. You reach down to rub at your now exposed clit, which he, thankfully, took no issue with you doing.

“Yes, keep touching yourself like that, baby,” Calvin whimpers. “Gonna fill you up, make you all mine–!”

His thrusts speed up before stilling almost entirely as he releases inside of you– a feeling you would never tire of. Just as quickly as he stopped, he started up again with a hot whisper against your ear, “Come for me, come all over my dick, (Y/N)– you need it so bad, don’t you?”

Calvin moves his fingers down to replace yours, his rhythm relentless as he continued to fuck you throughout it. You shake as your own release finally comes, accompanied by a whine that’s like music to his ears.

“Such a good fucking girlfriend, Jesus…”

[danoberry]

★ sugar baby (burt fabelman x reader) SMUT 18+

description: you notice an attractive older man taking a seat close to you on a park bench. you didn’t know he would end up spending so much to make you happy when you finally talked to him.

content: 18+ SMUT!!!, age gap (reader is of age obviously), burt is a sugar daddy, burt is also very much a dad, takes place after the movie “the fabelmans,” lots of use of “bunny” and pet names, cunnilingus, overstim, fingering, cum play if you squint

pronouns: you/yours (female reader)

wc: 3.5k

afab genitalia

A/N :

i wanted to post something on christmas for everyone but sadly i just did not have the motivation. so i present this instead (thank you to everyone in the discord server who encouraged this fic- it’s one of my favs now). happy new year’s eve!

Burt Fabelman takes a seat not a terribly great distance from you. He reads a book- a manual of some sort- while his fingers tip-tap on his thigh. You watch the man with intent. He must be approaching his 40s, you think. The minute stubble growing on his chin and pudginess on his stomach are pure indicators. There’s something about him that’s attracting you. The way he’s carrying himself, the way he’s handling everything he has in his clutch with care. Your cheeks started to heat up just looking at the man. You would’ve never expected him to be a sugar daddy.

I’m probably half his age! Who am I kidding? You think to yourself, taking your eyes off of him and looking down at the concrete. A homewrecker is never something you’d want to be labeled. You drown in thought as your eyes stare a hole into the ground, until a voice startles you, almost out of your seat.

“Hon?” 

You look up, and there he is. The man you were just fixated on, right in front of you. Your face flushes a deep red. You can feel the heat in your neck. 

“Oh- hi!” You say with innocence, like you weren’t just staring at him like he was eye candy.

“I uh… saw you staring a second ago. Are you alright?”

You smile, incredibly nervous. “Yeah! Hah… I’ve always had a staring problem.” You watch him slightly cock his eyebrow. 

“I mean- I didn’t mean to stare so much… I’m sorry.” You blush deeper, heating up.

“Oh honey, it’s alright! I was just making sure you were doing okay! You seemed a bit… disheveled.” He sits down right next to you, as you curse yourself internally. Your legs slowly turn to jello.

“Nope! I’m doing pretty good…” 

“I’m glad to hear that… I have a few kids who I can usually tell when they’re not alright. Of course they’re with their mom for the season… I guess I was trying to find someone to take care of when they’re away!” He laughs. 

You sit there with your legs crossed and your hands in your lap. Not necessarily uncomfortable from the man himself, but from the fact he was making you feel so damn flustered. You giggle at his remark, before he speaks again.

“I’m sure you have children of yourself, what’s a girl like yourself doing at a park with nobody?” 

You actually laugh this time. 

“Kids? Absolutely not, not yet.” 

“Really? I mean- you definitely don’t look old, definitely not as old as me, but you seem mature!” He says with genuine surprise.

“Oh, sir, I don’t even have a boyfriend- let alone a child.”

“Wow!” He breathes out. “It’s Burt, by the way, Burt Fabelman. No need to call me sir, you’d make me feel too old.” 

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant by it all!” You defend, scared that you blew it. But he’s quick to reassure you simply.

“It’s okay hon, I know.” 

You sit there for a moment, twiddling your thumbs, and look back up at him. Burt’s staring down at you. When his eyes meet yours, he smiles. It’s warm, sweet. It gives you a tingly feeling in your core.

“Are you really alright?” He asks again, concerned. “Your face is very red…”

He lays the back of his palm on your forehead and you feel like you’re going to explode. 

“No, I’m fine, really!”

He chuckles at your response and feels your cheek with the back of his hand, still very concerned with your state. 

“I have four kids, I know when they’re lying, too, honey.”

You hesitate. Should I lie? You debate. You revel in the consequences before you finally decide that you would come clean. You have nothing to lose, you don't even know the man, hardly. 

“Do you want the truth?” You ask, fiddling with your dress. 

“If it’s not gonna scare me off,” he says as he laughs.

“Well,” you start, ”this is embarrassing, but I saw you sitting on that bench, and I thought you were attractive and I guess I couldn’t stop staring- and I know that sounds really weird but It wasn’t like I was going to just get up and walk on over to say ‘Hello!’ because God only knows-”

“Woah! Hey!”

You bury your face as deep as they could possibly go into your hands out of embarrassment. God, you think, I sound like a fucking baby!

“I’m not mad at you!” He laughs. Oh. “Quite frankly, I think you’re beautiful... actually, way out of my league! Why would such a young, pretty girl want anything to do with an old man like me?”

Oh…?

“I… you just look like you know how to take care of someone… and I think you’re quite handsome,” You reply shyly, not daring to look up at him. 

“Well aren’t you just so sweet,” Burt replies affectionately, coddling you. “Look up at me, please.”

You look up into his eyes, afraid yet unable to look away. 

“How about this… I can take you back to your car, and I’ll give you my phone number so we can talk about it this evening. Does that sound good to you?”

You nod your head and walk with him to your car. If he were any other older man walking you to your car, you would have been exceedingly uncomfortable, but Burt Fabelman had a comforting presence as he loomed over you.

Approaching your car, your lips curl into a smile when you sit in the front seat. 

“Do you have a napkin?” He asks.

You reply with a simple “mhm” and hand him a napkin after digging through your purse.

He grabs a pen from his coat pocket and clicks it, writing his phone number on the napkin laying against his hand. You watch him finish his writing and hand the napkin back to you, leaning over the car. You stare at the writing, before looking back at him as he stands over you. 

“Promise me you’ll call?” He asks with a smile.

“I’m looking forward to it, Burt.”

…

Over the next few days you and Burt constantly talk over the phone. You even leave a chair under the phone on the wall for when either of you decide to call. You learn much about him over the days following— and vice versa. 

Those late night phone calls turn into less of casual discussions of the past, and more playful conversations of the present. You slowly realize how much of a flirt Burt can become when he’s comfortable. He proposes the idea of a date while you fiddle with the cord one late night, saying, “I can’t wait to see you again, bunny. Let me take you somewhere— the shops. I’ll get you whatever you want.” 

Burt was more than delighted to hear you’d be willing to go on a date with him. He hadn’t gone on a real date in years, and he was glad he’d be able to go on one with you. It was kind of strange for a first date, you thought, to go to the shops instead of the traditional dinner at a fancy restaurant, but you wouldn’t dare complain about getting spoiled by a charming, handsome older man.

You decide on a pretty dress and flats, adorning yourself with silver jewelry and floral perfume. Lipstick paints your lips and mascara enhances your eyelashes with every flutter. You carry your purse under your arm as you walk to the entrance, looking around for any sign of Burt. Almost immediately, he catches your eye. He stands tall next to the fountain, his glasses seated on his nose quite low, in a turtleneck and a blazer, an outfit that made you heat up admiring him.

Your face flushes as you stare up at him. 

“Hey, sweetheart!” he breathes quietly, pushing your hair behind your ear. 

“Hi- thanks for inviting me here,” you say as you smile at him. 

“Of course. Where did you want to go first?”

“Uhh- well, I have been wanting to hear the new ‘Temptations’ record.“ 

Burt chuckles, “Oh honey, I’d be more than glad to get you a record, but what do you really want?” 

You tap your foot out of nervousness, you didn’t really think he was being serious when he told you he’d buy you whatever you wanted on that phone call a few nights prior. “If I was being honest I’d really appreciate some new earrings, but you don’t-“ 

“Okay, then that’s what we’ll look at! Is that okay? I can get your record, too.” 

You feel slightly aghast by his offer, but you’re quick to comply. “I mean, it sounds good to me!” 

“Great,” He says, holding his hand out for you to grasp.

You take his hand and walk with him down the atrium, to the jewelry store. When you arrive, you both are greeted by a salesperson who helps you pick out a beautiful pair of earrings: pretty diamond studs. Despite your protests to Burt, because of how expensive they turn out to be, he buys them for you. 

“You really don’t have to spend this much money on me- I appreciate it so much, Burt, but really-“ 

“A beautiful lady like you needs a beautiful pair of earrings. Don’t mention it, doll. I insist.” 

He walks with you out of the store, holding the bag for you. 

“You should put your earrings in, I want to see them!” 

“Oh,” you started, “sure, why not!”

He holds the bag up to you to take the earrings out and put them in your ears. After you do this, you place the box back into the bag, thanking him again.

“They’re gorgeous,” Burt says, astonished. 

“Thank you,” you say, grinning wide.

He kisses you on the cheek and looms over you again. 

“Not as gorgeous as you though, for sure.” 

“Thank you,” is all you can dreamily mutter again, blushing at the floor. 

You hold Burt’s hand on the walk to the record store, blushing the way there. You arrive and quickly find what you’re looking for. You head to the register alone, but Burt insists you pick out a few more, and one for him to listen to. You pick up The Beatles, Beach Boys, and a few more with interesting covers. At the checkout, he forks out money from his wallet like it was nothing, rubbing your shoulder with his left hand. 

You two walk out of the store hand in hand, and mutually decide it’s time to go home, though neither of you want to truly leave each other's company. When you both reach the front gate, he asks if you want to sit in his car and talk for a moment. You immediately oblige and walk with him, taking a seat in the front passenger. 

“I don’t want to leave right now- I feel like I could spend hours with you,” you say with ruby-red cheeks, looking down at your feet. 

“I don’t want to leave you either, bunny. Look at me.” 

He gently tilts your head up at him, using the back of his palm against your chin. 

“Do you want to come home with me tonight? I’ll make sure we come back and get your car in the morning.” 

You look in Burt’s eyes for a moment and nod your head. He leans into you and plants a kiss on your lips, letting it linger for a moment, and pulls away.

“Throw the stuff in the back. I’ll take you, baby.” 

Your eyes frost over with tears formed from pure excitement, and a haze prohibits your view while you grin secretly, looking out the window.

You put your bags in the back and he drives off with you almost giggling in the passenger seat. You admire him at stoplights, his stature, mixed with the glow of the red, yellow, green on his face. You couldn’t believe it. He’s taking you back to his house. Who knows what you’re about to do.

He pulls into his dark driveway and turns off the engine, stepping out, as you do the same. He shows  you to the front door, and you both walk into the beautiful living room together, surrounded by windows. He turns on the light behind you and hangs his blazer on the rack.

“Wanna sit?” He asks as you walk in, motioning over to the couch. 

“Oh, yeah sure.” 

“Make yourself comfortable, hon.” 

You watched him grab two glasses of water from the kitchen and walk over to you, sitting them down on the coffee table and sitting down himself. 

“You really are such a beautiful lady, you know?” 

“Thank you, Burt,” you flustered. “You’re very handsome as well.” 

“I didn’t think I’d ever get to meet someone as pretty and sweet as you are, dear. You make me feel wonderful.”  

“I feel wonderful when I’m with you, too.” 

A grin formed on Burt’s face and he leaned to kiss you, to which you completely oblige as you deepen the kiss, humming into his mouth. Burt lays one of his large hands on your thigh, playing with his thumb, rubbing under the hem of your dress. His calloused fingertips toyed with the fabric. 

“Do you like it when I touch you there?” 

You nodded your head. 

“Okay, baby.” 

You feel your pussy slowly start to ache as he rubs  your inner thigh, kissing you hungrily. You feel completely swallowed by your attraction to him, as you spread your thighs apart and invite his hand farther up your dress. 

“Please, Burt,” you whisper. 

“I’ll take care of you, bunny.” 

He picks you up bridal style and kisses you again, walking you back to his room. You're placed on the bed and Burt lifts up the bottom of your dress, exposing your lace panties and the lower half of your stomach. 

“You wear these often?” He asks, gently squeezing the meat of your thigh. 

“Not necessarily…” you shyly remark. 

“They’re cute, sweetheart. Red’s your color.” 

He dips down and kisses you again. “Can I get this dress off of you?

You squeak, absolutely overtaken by affection, “Mhm.”

You sit up and Burt helps you take the dress off above your head. You feel exposed— lying there in your lace, while he hovers over you fully clothed. The feeling doesn’t last long, however, because before you know it, Burt is taking off his turtleneck and you see his pudgy belly sitting at the top of his pants. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, bunny. You want me to fuck you, hm?” 

“Yes, daddy,”  you whisper boldly.

“I haven’t heard that one before,” Burt chuckles. “Daddy’s gonna make you feel good, bunny. Come here.” 

You sit up and get closer to him, batting your eyes. He cups your cheek in his hand, rubbing it with his thumb. You kiss and nuzzle into the side of his hand, looking up at Burt with a neediness in your eyes.

“Such a pretty baby,” he says, in awe. “Lay back.” 

You obey his demand and lay on your back, your breasts almost spilling out of your bra. Burt leans over you and puts his hands behind your back, unsnapping your bra and taking it off. He cups one of your tits and pinches your nipple, requiting a squeak out of your mouth. Burt laughs and kisses your forehead, apologizing for shocking you like that, before he trails his fingers down your body, making you shiver in reaction. 

Burt grabs your sides and shifts you forward, beginning to peel off the sides of your lace panties. The slick, already formed on your panties, strung out for a moment while you watch him slowly peel them off, from your thighs to off of your ankles.

“So wet,” you hear him purr. 

He takes his thumb and lays it over your sensitive clit, making you hum a moan. He leans over the bed and brings his face to your heat, pulsing with need. You feel his hot breath against your folds, before he brings his lips to you, collecting your slick with his tongue, lapping up and down as you begin to cry out moans and curses. 

You feel him fuck you with his tongue and suck at your clit, making your back arch away from the matress. You hold his head down with your hand, screaming out against your other one. Your thighs begin to squeeze together as you cry out his name, almost squeezing his head along with them. You feel Burt take his rough hands and use both of them to hold your legs down on each side, squeezing into the plush of your thighs. The resistance turns you on more than you already are.

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and uses them to spread around your pussy, lathering his fingers with fluid, pushing one into you while he sucks you all that he could. He begins slowly, but gets decently faster as he curls into you perfectly. You feel the knot in your stomach forming as he gets faster with his movements. You moan his name more and more, giving him validation that he’s doing a good job.

Your walls tighten around his fingers, making it harder for Burt to curl in and out of you. You feel your impending orgasm build and build as you try to relax your muscles and prolong your pleasure. 

“C’mon, I know you can do it bunny. Cum all over my fingers,” Burt praises. 

“Burt I- ohh- I- fuck!”

Your orgasm crashes over you in a huge wave, your muscles contract while you pant and repeat his name like a prayer. You notice your orgasm slowly calming, but your arousal sticking, and you realize he never stopped finger-fucking you in the first place. 

“O-Oh, baby! Ah-hnng… Burt!” 

He kisses up your stomach with wet lips. 

“I told you I was gonna fuck you good, bunny.” He raises his eyebrows and pulls his fingers out of you, smearing the cum all over the front of your cunt, all spent and red and wet, and wiping the rest on your tits, hardening your nipples from cold air. 

Burt picks you up by the hips again and adjusts you towards the headboard, shuffling off his pants and underwear. He towers over you, his cock leaking from his bright pink tip, thick enough to stretch you out but not long enough to hurt your cervix. 

“You ready for my cock, hon? Gonna let daddy stretch you out?” 

“Mmm, ‘m so ready, ‘m so ready, daddy,” you say, though absolutely spent. 

Burt spends no time hesitating to lather his cock with your juices, feeling your folds with his thickness and slowly putting himself inside you. You mewl as he leans over your body, his lower half deliciously touching your clit. You feel overstimulated but absolutely desperate for his body to be close to yours.

He fucks into you while wet noises fill the room, combining with your moans of ecstasy and his groans and grunts of pleasure. Your legs wrap around his back and he uses his hands to cup behind your head, bringing your bodies closer together. Your foreheads touch together, and Burt looks into your eyes, overwhelmed by your beauty and how good you make him feel. 

“Mm- Burt, baby, hnng- Daddy… please,” you cry out, salivating, pinching your eyes shut as he rutted into you and tears fell down your face, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of your bodies.

“Take it… all for me… bunny.” 

Burt gives you a kiss, mid moan, and by the time the kiss was over, your second orgasm happened almost immediately, crashing over you harder than your previous one. You let out a scream of pleasure while he fucked into you a few more times, finally cumming as well, painting your walls with warm, thick stripes of cum, that made your cunt clench even harder from the feeling. 

Burt kisses you again, slowly removing his cock from your dripping pussy, spewing it out with a pulse. Cum pools below your thighs, making the sheet sticky from under you. You both know it— it’s gross, but neither of you want to leave each other’s company. He lays down beside you, while your eyes flutter. You look cock-drunk from your drool and tears.

“You’re so good baby,” he kisses you. “You’re so good for me.” 

Burt puts the hair out of your face before you reply. 

“Thank you so much, Burt ,” you say with a yawn and a smile. 

“Of course, my pretty girl.”

[theehoneeybee]

Late Night Sugar Fix

pairing: Edward Naston/gn!reader word count: 1.3k warnings: swearing, brief mentions of murder, implied stalking, usual Gotham things

synopsis: the night shift at the diner was always quiet, few people willing to venture out into Gotham at night, except for one regular who came in on an almost nightly basis.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

a/n: i'm back in my paul dano era. I used to write for him back on an old blog of mine and it's nice to do it again :)

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Another slow night. The drops of rain trailing down the window carried the colours of the glowing city lights with them. The small, old TV perched in the corner re-aired news segments from earlier in the week. The sounds barely reached your ears and the subtitles lagged behind the speech.

The diner had become quieter over the past couple of weeks. With two vigilantes using the city as an oversized playground, and crime at an all time high, people weren't too keen to leave the house. Especially at night.

There was a few regulars who still came in, fellow night shift workers coming in for a much needed cup of coffee after a long day. The familiar chiming of the bell pulled your head away from the TV, turning around in your chair to greet the stranger.

His back was turned to you, his green jacket decorated with dark spots from raindrops. He set his umbrella gently down by the door and shuffled over the the bench, taking a seat on the cracked black leather stools.

"Evening," you greeted him. "What can I get started for you?"

The man barely makes eye contact with you. "A cup of coffee please, and, um, do you have any pumpkin pie?"

The clear frames of his glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, little droplets of water clinging onto the lenses. His soft brown hair stuck to his forehead. The umbrella must not have done its job. You gave him a nod and went out the back to prepare his order.

Once you came back, the man had cleaned off his glasses and his attention was now focused on the TV screen. You placed down the food, matching his gaze to look up at the screen.

It was a repeat of a news story from earlier in the day. 'The Riddler terrorises Gotham' the subtitles read, the face of the news reporter was replaced with one of the Riddler's infamous livestreams. The reported called him all sorts of names, 'murderer', 'villain', 'terrorist'. You couldn't help the small scoff that left your lips. This caught the strangers attention, half turning his head to look at you through the corner of his eye.

"Look, I don't agree with the killing," you quickly tried to justify yourself, hoping you hadn't offended him. "But at least he's doing something. I know too many people who have suffered because the cops don't do shit."

An emotion you couldn't quite place flashed on his eyes, leaving just as quickly as it appeared. He nodded, looking back at the TV. "Someone had to do something."

You spend the rest of the evening aimlessly scribbling in your notepad, occasionally turning to the TV for some lacklustre entertainment. The man left, giving you a small nod on his way out. As you cleaned up the plates, wiping down the counter, you glanced at the door.

He left his umbrella.

You leant against the counter, idly flicking between the pages of a newspaper that a customer had left behind.

"I speak without a mouth and hear without ears," you read the riddle printed on the thin pages aloud, "I have no body, but come alive with the wind. What am I?"

"An echo." The answer made you jump, no longer alone in the diner. "The riddle," the man gestures to the newspaper in your hands, "It's an echo."

The same man from yesterday with the clear frames and mousey brown hair was back. You never even heard the door bell ring. Same routine as last night, he sits down and orders a slice of pumpkin pie and coffee. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he ate, filling in the puzzles from a newspaper of his own.

Strange, you settled on, was the best way to describe him. He kept his head down, occasionally shifting awkwardly in his seat and adjusting his glasses, a nervous habit. Strange, yes, but he also was also endearing. Or maybe you just pitied him, the same way a sad puppy is both adorable and heart breaking.

The man was about to leave, folding the newspaper into a neat little rectangle and tucking it into his jacket. Before he had a chance to go, you dashed into the back of the diner to reunite him with his forgotten umbrella.

"Wait!" you called out to him, "you forgot your umbrella yesterday."

"Oh," he says quietly. "Thank you." He took the umbrella from your hands.

"I never got your name, by the way. I know all my regulars by their names," you explained.

He stares at you, eyes obscured by the reflection of light on his lenses, expression unreadable. "Edward," he finally introduces himself.

It was around the time that Edward began to frequent the diner that you began to notice strange occurrences.

When you would walk back to your apartment, the sun barely peaking over the tall city buildings, it felt like you were being followed. You could feel a pair of eyes searing into the back of your head. A wave of relief would wash over you once you finally stepped into your apartment.

On one of the few nights off you had, you were laying on the couch when a card was slipped under your front door. Getting up from your comfortable spot, you half-opened the door and peered down the hallway. Empty. It was a small greeting card with a cartoon owl of the front with the text 'owl always love you' written in cursive.

'I have keys but no locks. You can enter, but you can’t go outside. I have space but no room. What am I?' was scribbled messily on the inside of the card.

You didn't sleep that night.

You and Edward had developed an unspoken friendship. Each night you found yourself looking for forward to his visit. While you didn't talk very much, there was a mutual enjoyment of each others company. He would help you solve the puzzles in forgotten newspapers. Edward was very intelligent, always quick to answer. While he liked crosswords and dabbled in sudoku, you learnt riddles were his favourite.

"Are you any good with computers?"

Edward looked up from his puzzle, "I'm okay. Why?"

"Well I've been having this issue with my laptop," you explained. Whenever you tried to use it, it would work for about a minute before the screen blanked. Only a small question mark could be seen, flickering in the top right of the screen. You didn't want to waste your money bringing it to a repair shop or buying a new one, so your best bet was asking Edward. "It's probably a virus from one of those shitty free streaming sites."

"I can come take a look at it."

You scribbled your phone number down on a scrap piece of paper. "Thank you so much."

You had texted back and forth with Edward to arrange a time for him to come to your apartment to look at the laptop. Was it the smartest move to invite an almost-stranger into your apartment? No, but Edward seemed trustworthy enough.

'I'll be there soon :)' his message read.

Soon, there was a knock on your door and you were letting Edward into your apartment. He took a seat at your desk as you booted up your laptop.

"It'll be fine for a few minutes and then-" the screen went black. "Bam!"

Edward adjusted his glasses, bringing the laptop closer. "Yeah, I see what you mean." You watched anxiously as he fiddled around with it to little success.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to fix it here," Edward explained. "However, if I hook it up to my computer at home I should be able to get the virus off it."

"So it can be fixed? I don't need to buy a new laptop?" Edward shook his head no. "Oh, thank you! You don't mind doing it do you?"

"It's okay. I'll give it back to you at work tomorrow."

You thanked Edward profusely as he left your apartment, laptop in hand. When you sat down on the couch, fear punched you in the stomach. The blood drained from your face when your realised that,

You never gave Edward your address.

[imagine--if]

A/N: I've missed writing for Eddie 🥹 hope you enjoy reading! And happy 2nd anniversary to The Batman movie!! Can't believe I fell in love with the film and its characters two solid years ago, and super hyped for the sequel 🖤 A Bruce Wayne/Battinson imagine will be coming soon, so stay tuned!!

Wordcount: 1.3k

Time period: Riddler Year One, Issue 6 (beginning of The Batman)

He hated it when you were gone this long.

It was okay if he knew where you were, if you were working or out with a couple of friends, someplace he could track you through your phone. Through windows. Through anything. As long as the sun was still out and he knew exactly where you were, could reach you whenever he wanted, he could keep his grip on his mentality, and at least half-focus on his plans and preparations.

But he couldn't do any of that right now. Which led to the inevitable.

Pacing his shabby little apartment that you somehow managed to make a little brighter, tidier, something close to home, closer than he'd ever got before. But now, it was cold and dark and empty, painfully quiet, apart from his uneven, staggering breaths that Edward tried in vain to swallow down.

'Breathe.'

It was a simple job. Too simple. Sneak into the Penguin's rooms at the Iceberg Lounge, plant the bug, slip out again, unnoticed. And you would either be very much unnoticed, blending in perfectly with. there's of the deceptively beautiful girls and boys who danced and flirted and drank at the bars and around round tables and tall, glossy silver poles stretching up into the high ceilings of the club. Or you would be pulled aside by some pervert that thought you were as pretty as Edward himself did, maybe by the Penguin, or that pig Falcone.

He shouldn't have set you. Too risky. Send a follower? No, too complicated; not enough of them yet, everything still growing and finalising, piecing together in a lovely puzzle crafted by his mind. You might well go unnoticed, but if he dared go himself, it would be a horror show.

This was a baadddd idea.

The smooth click and glide of the lock twisting and opening up the heavy front door made him flinch out of his thoughts, murky green eyes jumping to the short hallway with hope and fear in his gaze. The same hope a puppy gets when its owner comes back home, the same fear a madman harbours in a dizzying craze, living off the what-ifs and obsessions their mind feeds them in the darkness.

When he speaks, it's in a rush, words tripping over each other and his voice catching, stumbling forwards to grip onto your shoulders with his soft but firm, trembling grip.

"You were gone too long," Edward insists, his fingers digging into the fabric of your sweater, searching for your warmth and reassurance, his eyes trying to take in every part of your face at once. "Too long... and I was worrying, and I felt sick, and I- you can't do it again, please, please, because-"

"It's alright, Eddie," you cut him short gently in amusement and sympathy, your arms fitting snugly around his neck as you embrace him. You easily fill him shiver at the contact, starving, aching, as he hugs you back with enough force to make you breathless, digging his face in your neck needily with a soft whining sound.

It's almost funny, how desperate and childlike he can be, all big green eyes sparkling with joy and awe at how readily you give your affections to him, his skin bare of any sweet touch from another being in Gotham other than yours. But he doesn't want anyone else's now, anyway. The rest of Gotham can sink into its corruption, and his hope incarnate can dance above the waves.

He gazes up at you in a slight daze, speechless, and you smile at him the way you do, the way that makes him smile back in giddy wonder, his thoughts spinning around and around like a carousel, all bright, pure lights and ethereal tunes.

"I miss you," Edward mumbles, half to himself, his stare wandering to study your eyes, your nose, your lips. "Always."

"I missed you too," you reply earnestly, "but it was worth it. I did what you said."

He blinks at your words, his attention circling back as he looks up into your eyes in curiosity and a sweet, almost innocent light, one that doesn't at all match the moment.

"I bugged his office," you clarify, nodding, "in and out. No one saw my face, and if they did, they won't remember it."

Edward lets out a slow breath, his expression loosening from intrigue and thought to the depths bubbling to the surface, his eyes spiked with venom and his words hushed with a small smirk.

"Oh," he mumbles, before giggling slightly, blinking up at you in pride and unhinged malice. "I love you."

You beam at his words, your fingers stroking down the plump curve. of his cheek, an action that makes him shudder and his breath catch in his throat, his eyes round and adoring.

"I love you too, Ed."

"I- I'll give you everything," he promises, his words rolling into lovestruck rambles between repeating your name, "everything I have. Every... everything."

There's that strange but familiar feral hunger in his eyes, not violent, but full of untethered passion and obsession, of love and lust, of everything he's never experienced before. And now that he is, he wants it all, wants it now, to feel everything at once and lose himself in endless spirals of pleasure and ecstasy that rakes up his spine and makes his voice crack and break-

"I'll never," Edward continues in a whisper, tugging you deeper into his arms, walking back and down onto his couch and pulling you with him, "never let you go. Everything will happen as it should, and I'll be there to get you... again, and again, and again, and again, and-"

You let him keep rambling on, his cheek rubbing against yours and ducking into the hot curve of your neck like a cat, his damp lips skimming your skin mindlessly, hanging onto you with his surprisingly strong grip, even though there's nowhere else to go. Tonight, there's nothing but the Riddler, his arms trapping you inside all that he is.

Black and green screens of computers running code down their displays absently fills the night with an eerie but almost comforting glow, polaroid pictures of his targets, red ink scribbled harshly in question marks and accusations over the glossy print. For you, there's a separate case of shots, most taken with you knowing, across the room in his apartment, with Edward grinning and giggling when you glare at him weakly in amusement and protest at the constant flashes and printing of pictures and mugshots.

No escape. None at all. You're with him for life, because you let him in, and like a virus, he ran through everything that makes you, you, drinking it in and fantasizing up until this very moment. A moment where Edward forgot about the blood he shed and the streams up for his cult following, the big board pinned with pictures and news clippings and rage in the form of black and white. He just clung to you fiercely, inhaled you, to do it all again the next morning, still trembling with the warmth and tremors of raw desire and love.

I am there, but cannot be seen," he whispers in your ear, nuzzling impossibly closer to you, his fingers lacing with yours, "to have me costs you nothing. To be without me costs you everything. What am I?"

You've heard this one before. It was in one of the little notes he left you during your first few meetings with him, and every one of his riddles seemed to have something to do with you, with how he saw you, absolutely angelic with no flaws, no blemishes, gorgeously unharmed by the wicked world of Gotham.

"Hope?" you guess correctly, glancing up at him expectantly, and he giggles again, his fingers tracing over your lips boldly, caught up in the moment and his own wonderful world of puzzles and clues.

"Or," Edward smiles brightly at you, resting his forehead against yours... and answering with your name.

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[doublyee]

DADDYYYY😫😫😫😫