#Edward Nashton x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

puzzlekinq · 9 months

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pls write anything for edward ily

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

edward nashton x gn reader nsfw headcanons

amab reader inclusive !!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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

#edward nashton #the riddler #paul dano riddler #riddler 2022 #dano riddler #dano riddler x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler x you #the riddler 2022 #2022 riddler #paul dano x reader smut #paul dano x reader #paul dano x you #the riddler smut #edward nashton smut #riddler smut

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danosrosegarden · 7 months

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

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

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

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

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

☽ "Eddie, Ed...wait."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#eli's writing #danonation #paul dano #edward nashton #the riddler #the batman #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler x you #edward nashton x y/n #the riddler x y/n #kinktober #kinktober 23

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abrcmswrld · 9 months

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NSFW Alphabet | TFE!Edward Nashton x Reader

Word Count: 1,979

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

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

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

HBD Pookie<3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

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

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

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

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

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

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#edward nashton #paul dano #dano riddler #the riddler #the riddler x you #the riddler x reader #dano!riddler x reader #dano!riddler #dano!riddler x you #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you #edward nashton smut

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honeyspringscave · 2 months

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(NSFW)

edward fanfic bingo (got the idea from a friend💚)

also these aren’t bad, i love fics like this💗

#edward nashton #dano!riddler #danonation #the riddler #paul dano #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you #riddler x reader

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acapelladitty · 19 days

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Dano!Riddler/Reader - Bidding

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#dano riddler #edward nashton #riddler #riddler x reader #riddler x you #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you #the batman #the batman 2022 #the riddler #dc comics #paul dano #edward nygma #edward nigma #paul dano smut

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always-andromeda · 8 months

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·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Edward Nashton x Fem!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 2447

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ daydreaming about being with you is better than actually being with you because i missed all the red flags and now it's too late + "You're a monster." + "That's never stopped you before."

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ this isn't an official return to writing Dano content! this is merely me getting in touch with my roots a little! because you can't give me unhinged prompts and then tell me not to get even a little bit inspired to write something for Edward lmao. p.s. yes I ever so slightly changed the dialogue prompt!! it just made more sense in the end!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact), descriptions of sex, Edward being his normal homicidal self <3, reader is kind of an asshole lmao, vague allusions to violence, and that's all I can think of! please let me know if I need to add more!

(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)

Sometimes it astounded you just how far a set of sad eyes could fuel your romantic mind. You hesitated to admit that you were delusional, but the thought certainly lived in the back of your head. Anytime it traveled to the front you’d simply brush it back with the justification that everyone did this.

Everyone made up those little romances to lose themselves in. It gave you something to think about in the gaps between really living. In that narrow room of your head lived Edward Nashton. And god, was he really starting to take up even more real estate than you’d ever meant for him to.

He wasn’t even your nicest coworker. Far from it actually, considering how stand-offish he was. At first you looked right over him, preferring the company of coworkers that didn’t make you feel like you were being looked down upon. Because whether he intended it or not, he radiated some sort of superiority. Though he rarely spoke, you simply caught the idea that he didn’t want to be part of anything going on.

Edward never attended company lunches, never went out for drinks after work, and mostly kept to himself during his lunch breaks. He seemed almost intent on isolating himself as much as possible. It didn’t occur to you that maybe it was wrong to quickly assign such malice to his disinterest until he chimed in on a break room conversation you were having with a coworker.

She’d been expressing excitement over the prospect of Bella Reál running for mayor against Mayor Mitchell. She’d scoffed, “It’s about time that bastard gets pushed out of office. We finally have a chance for some real change here.”

For as quiet as he was, you were surprised that Edward’s voice sounded so firm when he raised his head and spoke, “Realchange? What are the odds of that? She’s just another politician. And politicians...they’re nothing more than cardboard cutouts for whatever demographic they want to pander to. They can’t save everyone.“

Your coworker rolled her eyes, saying something about how cynicism won’t do anyone any good before decidedly pushing him out of the conversation entirely. And that gave you the clearest picture you’d had of him yet. Maybe it was less that he didn’t want to be a part of things and more that he didn’t know how to be a part of things.

The more you viewed him through that lens, the more he made sense. And the more it made your heart break for him. It wasn't pity. God no. Out of everyone you knew, Edward was surely the smartest and most capable. But that didn't make it any easier watching him look at the rest of the world with that twitchy, distrustful eye.

Maybe if you were a different person you would've said something. You would at least sit with him. But truth told, he intimidated you.

So, not wanting to risk shouldering any of his disdain, you watched him. And you built up an idea. An idea you were quite fond of.

You noticed that he drank his coffee black. Figured that he took everything else that way too. That he cut straight through the sugar and cream and gulped down the bitterness, grounds and all. All reason, no nonsense. You decided it would probably be hard to be with him. But that wouldn't make it any less gratifying.

Already you could imagine Edward and his walls and how you'd attempt to break through them. Maybe there was some sort of tragic past behind his disassociation. Maybe there was something in him that reflected a little bit of yourself. Maybe you could help him; make him happier. Or maybe he was just a plain old asshole and you'd only make each other worse. Either way, it made him compelling to deconstruct.

Especially when comparing him to the other men in your office. Many of them were loud, boastful, and – perhaps due to some deep seated insecurity – always trying to prove something. Edward, on the other hand, seemed to wear that insecurity on his sleeve with his stuttering replies and lingering glances towards his superiors. You bet he was secretly possessive. Not exactly swift to a fight, but definitely quick to prove that his power was effortless; he didn't need showmanship the way those other men did.

Something about that made him inherently cool to you. As much as he may have been a nobody, a loser, and a nerd...he was also everything. Everything and nothing all at once and you couldn't get enough of it.

If there was anyone in your office you guessed would ask you out, it certainly wasn't Edward. Edward, in your mind, didn't take those risks. And he certainly didn't care enough about you to see you as any different from the rest of his coworkers.

But somehow he managed to break your script the morning he confidently waltzed straight to your cubicle across the office and asked if you liked Italian food.

"Eh, I'm impartial," you replied sheepishly, not sure where the question was leading.

To your surprise, Edward gave a small nod, issuing his silent approval. "Good. Because there's a diner in town that I'd like to take you out to."

You had to blink quickly, wondering for a moment if you'd honest-to-god lost your mind and fallen too far into one of your daydreams.

"Huh?"

That's when Edward's own voice faltered slightly, "I-is that a yes? Or a no?" and finally it struck you that this was reality.

"Yes!" you blurted your reply. "I'd love to go out with you."

Once you'd worked out the particulars of this assumed date, you could hardly hide your anticipation. You'd been nervous for dates before. But this was a new beast. You barely knew a thing about him and you hadn't so much as had a real conversation with him.

Why he'd asked you out in the first place, you had no idea. None of it made any sense but before you could question his intentions, you second guessed that gut feeling. Those rose tinted glasses fell over your gaze with ease at that point.

Maybe he was just as nervous as you were. Maybe this was his attempt at doing something bold. Maybe you were the asshole for assuming dubious intent. Maybe you just had to give him a chance. After all, he was giving you a chance. And suddenly you interest was piqued all over again.

On its own, the date was average. You hadn't expected a Michelin star meal, but as far as greasy diner food went, this one sat heavy in your stomach and Edward's untrained social skills didn't help.

He made conversation like he'd read a Wikihow article on it before picking you up. And while it was a lackluster feeling that spurred inside you when he was reciting those lines to you, it only made you want to deliberately break his script again. You knew he had it in him; you'd seen it before.

Ignoring every ounce of advice on social etiquette you'd ever learned, you asked him what he thought about the upcoming election. And that seemed to be just the ticket as he set his mug of black coffee down, a goofy grin scrawling out on his doughy face. Before you knew it, he launched into an uninterrupted tangent about the grim state of Gotham politics for the next few minutes.

It was simple enough nodding along and giving the occasional sympathetic hum. Even if you did feel the same about the broken system you lived in, it was a little disappointing realizing that he was like many of the men you'd dated. One that liked the sound of his own voice too much that you could barely get a word in edgewise.

But you think you liked the sound of his voice more when he said, "My apartment is nearby. Would you like to...come over?"

And you knew he liked yours when you agreed.

Edward was a virgin, just like you expected. You tried not to show too much pride over your skillful deduction at the vulnerable admission. But you couldn't help the small rise in your tone when you replied, "Oh, you haven't...?"

Edward shook his head before hiding his face in your neck and groaning. And if you hadn't felt how unmistakably hard he was against your thigh, you might've felt bad for him. As wrong as it felt, you were ecstatic.

You couldn't believe your luck, getting to be this man's first. As meaningless as the concept of virginity was to you in theory...in this scenario...it inspired some very sentimental feelings. Feelings that even if he wasn't exactly everything you'd built him up to be, you'd still always have this imprint on him.

Repeatedly you reassured that you didn't find that fact embarrassing while suppressing the fact that more than anything, you wanted him. You'd dreamed about him for long enough that this felt like teasing. And it wasn't fun.

He fucked almost exactly the way you thought he would. Desperate. Disconnected. Animalistic. Like he was searching for something. Whether that be pleasure or perhaps a good old fashioned connection with someone, you didn't know. All you knew was that it made you giggle to think of your coworkers' looks of surprise when they found out that the Edward Nashton had managed to bring a girl home on the first date.

Even though he didn't make you come with penetration, it was fairly easy showing him how to use his fingers. Initially his touch was rough. As soon as you squealed and squirmed, he'd stopped dead in his tracks and looked at you with that sad, sorry stare. And despite the fact that he'd been the one to hurt you, he still managed to make you feel sorry for him.

But that didn't matter. Once you got him going, his focus on maintaining that light, even pressure as he circled your clit was unbreakable. You could tell that he was deriving pleasure from this too. That he liked staring deep into your eyes as they clouded over with mounting pleasure before blowing wide once you tipped over the edge. He chased the keening sounds of your arousal with an intensity that made the whole thing seem far more urgent than it actually was.

You were in so deep that you hadn't noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks until you'd finished and Edward had set off for his bathroom to wet a towel for cleanup. Once his bedroom door closed, you felt comfortable enough to really lay back and let out the breath you'd been holding. Being around him made your nerves short circuit and as much as you hated to admit it, it shrouded your judgment.

Knowing close to nothing about him, you found yourself picking through the flashes you'd gotten when stumbling into his apartment. Between kisses, you remember hearing squeaks. Maybe it was mice? Rats? Judging by the crumbling state of his room, you were uncertain over whether he owned them or they'd simply...made their home among his. You hoped it was the former. Your imagination forced you to believe that.

Finally you sat up, looking around his room. Edward's discarded button up work shirt laid forgotten on the floor. You picked it up and pulled it on to regain some of your modesty as you began dissecting once more.

Once you started to get a good look at your surroundings, you felt that pit in your stomach. Or maybe it was the greasy diner food sitting uncomfortably in your stomach. But that justification seemed less likely when you noticed the mirror on his dresser was smashed out, the broken glass still sitting on the wood surface. Any idea of it being accidental disappeared when you spotted the cork board beside the dresser. Pinned to it were photos and articles marked dramatically with red ink.

The words FILTHY PIGS written in big letters over a picture accompanying an article that detailed a GCPD drug den bust. The world LIAR scrawled over an old image of Thomas Wayne, most likely from his campaign days. Then there were the most worrying ones. Photos of people you vaguely recognized that weren't defaced with words. You saw Mayor Mitchell, Bella Reál, Gotham's attorney general, and a few others all with one thing in common. Right in the middle of their foreheads were targets, painted in red that dripped down their faces like blood.

This wasn't just some sort of bizarre art project. The closer you looked at the smaller annotations scribbled into the margins, the more you realized that this was some sort of morbid obsession of his. And for the first time, he scared you.

His stares and his silence meant nothing compared to the pure terror this inspired in you.

The bedroom door creaked as Edward pushed it open. His grip on the wet washcloth in his hand tightened as he caught what you were looking at.

"You see the truth now, don't you?" he asked meekly with a distant look.

"What?"

His voice dripped with emotion, "The brokenness. The-the-the corruption. The suffering. You understand that they need to pay, don't you?" He now stared expectantly, gesturing to his board of horrors.

You spoke carefully and slowly, "I'm...not sure I understand why Bella Reál is up there. All she wants to do is help–"

A different kind of darkness shadowed his expression now. It was one that you couldn't find any sort of romance in. But there was intent. All you knew was that none of the pieces you'd found could ever put together a pretty image. There was no reframing, no romanticizing, and no disregarding this. This intent was one of violence. One that seemed to spread as much pain and poison that was trapped inside of him.

Suddenly his eagerness to take you out felt less like a once in a lifetime chance and more like a death sentence. No amount of deduction would've led you to daydream something this depraved. If you'd poured the milk and sugar into your perception of him, these were bitter coffee grounds at the bottom of the mug. And you were doomed to swallow it up until the last drop.

Edward inched closer, his tone turning almost manic, “No one can save us. Not even the Batman. He can’t save us the way we need to be saved. But I can. I can do the thing that no one is bold enough to do."

“You’re a monster,” your voice quivered.

Edward chuckled. “As if that stopped you before.”

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astrok1dz · 8 months

Note

❤️ Glad you’re back! ❤️

I can’t remember your request guidelines rn so I’m gonna play it safe. Coddling and complimenting Eddie? 👀

RRRAHHHH THAT WAS QUICK!!!!!!! ALR, YES. Eddie needs to be spoiled and just. so much attention. I am very much willing to give that to him. that being said

cw: Eddie being traumatized (duh), a bit of angst, a dash of relationship issues, dw they fix it, happy ending, fluff

Never Too Much

-----

okay so bc of Eddie's past, we know he most probably has a lot of trouble getting into relationships, let alone romantic ones.

so when he met you, and obsessed over you, of course, he felt so lucky he could even breathe the same air as you

but nothing good ever lasts for him, everything is ripped away from him by this god forsaken city. he tries not to get too attached (and fails miserably) so he's shy for longer than he should be.

he's just trying to be prepared for when you'll leave him.

he's absolutely surprised when you don't

he doesn't say anything, of course, but he's just utterly confused

how? how didn't you leave him? all this city had taught him was how he wasn't good enough, how he was different, and how different people, people like him, don't get anything nice. don't deserve anything nice.

you notice this. you always do. it's not hard to tell when he's overthinking. he'll stop and take deep breaths or immerse himself in puzzles, but you're working on communication

you decide to start coddling Edward. to spoil him a little bit.

it doesn't even have to be something big, he'll be grateful for whatever you give him, although he doesn't quite know how to tell you or thank you properly

Eddie hadn't been your Eddie for the last two weeks or so, consumed with work and his plans to cleanse the city. He hadn't had the energy to be quite romantic or intimate lately, so things had been a little colder than usual. It hurt. Did he not love you?

One day you realized your mistake. Eddie? Your Eddie worshipped you. Sure, he could have his bad moments and want some time to himself, but after all the neglect and abuse he'd lived, he probably wanted to be coddled. He just was too embarrassed to ask you to do it. No wonder things had been like this. It was your turn to take the lead.

Now you knew, and you decided to take matters into your own hands. For the last couple of weeks you had been thinking of little ways to make him feel better, and today would finally be the day when you unleashed them all onto little unsuspecting Edward.

You hear the creak and slam of the door to your apartment. In comes Edward's tumbling silhouette, shuffling around to plop down on the couch next to you. Your sweet boy, all tired from work, all tired from this city. He always was.

"Eddie! Oh honey I missed you so much...", you coo, and his heart melts, because although he knows you adore him, he's used to having his absence not quite matter.

He's silent as he shuffles a little closer to you, and you immediately receive him with open arms and an inviting hug.

"Tough day?", you ask, and he nods. You do as well, and hold his shoulders.

"I got a little surprise for you, c'mon, follow me", you tell him. He looks at you, eyebrows knitted in confusion. You help him get up and slowly peel off his jacket, take his hand, and lead him to your bathroom.

He doesn't even get to see what it is before a sweet aroma invades his nostrils. Your tiny bathroom, adorned with scented candles, bubbles and rose petals floating on your tiny tub (if you could call it that).

What?

He looks at you, confused. Why would you do this? Why you, such an angelic being, the antithesis of this dirty city, do this for him, a broken man?

"I- you didn't-", he starts.

"I didn't have to, I know. But you've been so stressed lately and I wanted to help you relax...", you explain kindly. You start shredding your clothes, ready to enter the tub with him. You extend your hand to him, and he feels as if he's being dragged to the pearly gates of heaven.

"Besides, I've been missing you so much... I wanted you all to myself a lil' bit...", you say, and ignore the sting in your eyes. You really did miss him so so much...

"You can have me all to yourself whenever you want (Y/n)...", he stutters out, feeling guilty.

"Oh...", you let out. There he was, so kind, so sweet to you, so unapologetically yours.

"Well, in that case...", you say, almost seductively, but cover up a little once again when you remember your appearance. You were so busy planning this whole thing for today, you hadn't even shaved, you hadn't taken care of yourself. It felt overwhelming. What if your appearance ruined this whole things for him?

"Shit- I didn't- I forgot to- Sorry-"

He stares at you, but his eyes sparkle and his round face is flushed as if this was the first time he's ever seen you (which you both know is not the case).

"You know I don't care about those things. I want to see you...", he says, taking your hand. He looks at you, eyes full of adoration. His hands make their way to your waist and caress it gently, bringing you closer. He leaves a chaste kiss on your lips.

A few happy tears escape your eyes. There he was, the Eddie you've been missing. You help him undress, hands sliding lovingly over every inch of skin you know he's not fond of. Eddie. Your Eddie, so soft and round and most of all, so gentle.

You both get in the tub, cuddled up together. You don't even need to say a word. You both occasionally ask each other questions regarding doubts or insecurities, and reassure each other. When you're both satisfied with each other's answers you share the silence, snuggled up.

"You're so pretty, Eddie... my baby..."

He shivers, and you keep going.

"I love you, Eddie. You're kind and so so sweet. You deserve this, Eddie"

You notice by the way he shakes that now it's his turn to cry, happy cry, of course.

"My baby, you're so strong... You're safe here, you're okay. I love you Eddie, I'll never leave you". You coo.

He sobs, feeling free to break down in your presence. You kiss his tears away.

"Th-Thank you... you're too good to me... you do too much...", he hiccups.

"Oh, but don't you get it, Eddie? It's never too much", you reply, and for the first time, he begins to believe it.

#oneshot #dano riddler #dano!riddler #danonation #edward nashton #paul dano #paul dano riddler #the batman riddler #the riddler fanfiction #riddler x reader fluff #riddler x reader #riddler 2022 #the riddler x reader #the riddler 2022 #edward nashton x you #edward nashton x reader

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ghostdoodlen · 2 years

Text

Doin tiny Edward doodles is fun.

#the riddler x you #edward nashton #edward nashton x you #edward nashton x reader #the riddler #dano riddler #edward nashton fanart #3am things #doodles #my art #ash's doodles

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imagine--if · 1 year

Note

Can you write headcanons on what things dano riddler would text his s/o? Like if they were away on a trip what the texts would look like ?

A/N: Yeas I cannn 😁 this is one of my older requests that I found in my drafts so enjoyyy! I went all out and decided to do fake message thingies instead of hcs bahaha (Also I'm really working towards posting every other day on this blog now that the worst of my finals are done 😅 thank you all for being so patient!!)

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cl3fairyyy · 3 months

Text

i have not stopped thinking about this image since it dropped. it haunts my thoughts 24/7. i have to pay tribute to it before bed every night. i have a shrine in every room of my house dedicated to it. i will never be the same again.

#i need him to ruin me #dano riddler #dano riddler x reader #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #paul dano #riddler 2022 #riddler x you #batman 2022 #edward nashton x you #riddler x reader

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mimikw · 1 year

Text

He came home late from work

What's up with him

#sorry i cant draw hands #edward nashton #dano riddler #edward nigma #paul dano #the riddler #edward nashton fanart #i cant draw #edward nashton x you #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x y/n #｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡

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goodboyriddler · 2 years

Text

Keep Looking Up

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

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

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

Request inspired by this nsfw Paul Dano audio.

word count: 5.5k

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

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

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

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

Wait.

You're suddenly turning the other way.

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

He finds himself facing an alley.

Dead end.

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

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

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

You finally had enough.

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

You.

It's you. In front of him.

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

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

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

"Wait, it's you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That same man is in front of you.

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

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

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

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

Oh, no.

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

"Follow me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y-Yes."

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

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

You think he looks so pretty like this.

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

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

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

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

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

You complete me!

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

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

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

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

Edward gives a small nod.

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

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

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

"Yes?"

"I w-want to kiss you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, what baby?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Here?"

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

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

Not yet. You want him to be begging for it

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You think he's so beautiful like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His cheeks burn as he asks you.

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

"Have you done it before?"

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

"Only alone."

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

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

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

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

You find him waiting for you.

Kneeling on the floor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you going to be a good boy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who said you could touch yourself?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cum for me, Eddie."

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

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

You haven't seen a more pretty sight.

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

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

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

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

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

And he melts at your words.

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

He thinks you might be his new god.

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

#the riddler #edward nashton #edward nashton x you #edward nashton x reader #paul dano!the riddler #dano!riddler #dano!riddler x reader #the riddler x you #the riddler x reader #the riddler fan fic #turns off my phone #mine

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danosrosegarden · 2 months

Note

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

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

{valentine's requests: two ♡}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” he whispered defensively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d meet him where he was.

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abrcmswrld · 1 year

Text

Talk to Strangers

Edward Nashton x Coworker! Reader

━━━━

Word Count: 4,951

Warnings: smut (18+ only MDNI), stalking, unprotected sex, angst and fluff and smut, a decent bit of tears, obligatory mentions of murder

Summary: You’ve warmed up to Edward despite his cold nature, but what happens when the puzzle pieces start to fall together and you can feel someone watching you in the darkness?

Authors Note: I actually tried so hard on this yall, I posted this to my ao3 page first so I am sorry if the formatting is all kinds of messed up on here :( This is my first fic i’ve posted since 2017 so I sincerely apologize if it’s meh, i also don’t have anyone else proofread my fics so i apologize for any errors i missed! enjoy!

Ao3 Link

He's arrogant. Oh so arrogant, and you can't fucking stand it. You watch him every morning as he strides in, past your desk at reception, white button up shirt, clear framed glasses, shaggy hair that falls over his forehead . He's certainly not a hit among the office, so maybe you're not wrong in your feelings. Though your other co-workers generally regard him as a pushover- not a self-absorbed asshole. He's good at what he does, sure. He's earned his spot, but he often brings a shadow into the rooms he walks into. A presence that you can only describe as infernal.

You don’t know much about his story. You generally pride yourself on getting to know the people you surround yourself with, but he has never let you get close enough to find out. Maybe that’s why you find him arrogant. He thinks he’s too good to speak to you for more than two sentences related to files he needs you to fax for him. What you do know about him is that he’s been at KTMJ for longer than you have been- maybe 5 years more. You can still remember the first time you met. You were fresh faced and eager. Seeking validation, in desperate need of some stability.

You extend your arm for a handshake. His hands are slightly clammy as he accepts your handshake. And though you had greeted him with your brightest smile (might as well go all in if you ever wanted to be anything other than a receptionist) he hadn't smiled back. He'd kept a rather straight face as he gave his brief introduction. "Edward."

Now you have a sense of stability. Sure, the quality of life in Gotham is subpar and you still haven't received that promotion, but you make enough to live comfortably in comparison to others in the city. You try to count your blessings.

━━━━

You had already been having a shitty day. Your landlord had informed you of an increase in rent rates by slipping an envelope under your door. Sure, it sucked to be asked to pay more for an apartment that could be deemed shitty by any normal person with a pair of eyes, but it was the lack of communication that got you. Not even the decency to call your residence and tell you with their own voice. Just a slip of paper under the door.

But you tried to bring a good attitude to the office. You hate being the one to damper the mood. You would rather leave that to him. Always him. Never smiling back at you as he walks through the door, never meeting your eyes to acknowledge your presence, nothing. And you were used to that. It would be okay, if it weren't for the stack of papers that laid on your desk when you got in. Neatly stacked with a green sticky note reading "Need copies. -Edward" scrawled in messy handwriting. You immediately feel the flames rise into your chest.

It's a quick stride from your desk to his cubicle, stack of papers tightly tucked into your fist. You slam them onto his desk as soon as you reach it, and he raises an eyebrow at you in response. "What the hell is this?" He glances at the papers and back at you. "The copier isn't working. I wrote what I needed." You sigh, annoyed at the fact that he doesn't understand.

"You couldn't have waited for me to get here and brought them to me yourself? I would really appreciate it if you would treat me like a human being every once in a while, ya know, actually acknowledge my existence." You realize how dramatic you must sound, but in all honesty you've been thinking it for years, it was only a matter of time before it came out. "I needed copies. I didn't think my acknowledgement meant that much to you." He holds his hands out in defense, feigning that he actually cared if he had hurt your feelings.

"I think you think you're smarter than everyone else here." You plant a hand on the table in front of him as you crouch to his level.

He sighs and you can see the corners of his mouth twitch. "I do. Is that so bad?"

"It makes you an asshole."

He finally faces you.

"Better to be an asshole than to be an idiot."

His voice doesn't carry any malice, yet the words feel like a slap in the face to you. It leaves you scrambling for a response, opening your mouth only to close it a second later. Until you decide to merely respond with a nervous chuckle. Sure, you thought his response showed his ego, but you had to admit. He got you. He faces you once more at the sound of your light chuckle, green eyes meeting yours completely. "I guess you're right."

You catch the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

"If it means that much to you, I will greet you next time."

━━━━

And he does. Greet you that is. You find yourself talking to him more and more. Sitting in the break room with him at lunch, looking over his shoulder at the crossword puzzle he works on at his desk and giving your best shot at an answer, relishing in the furrow of his brows as he turns to look over his shoulder at you. He's an asshole. He's arrogant. But there's something about him that's drawing you in. Sometimes you feel like a fish caught in a net. All those moments he'd brushed you off and yet you find yourself repeating the little quirks of his soft smiles in your head. You hate the term "work husband", but it seems that Edward is slowly becoming the very definition of that.

You don't speak outside of the office, but you find yourself gravitating towards him when you're stressed. You tell him about your landlord and the reason you had gotten so defensive with him. He understood.

"It's a cesspool here. None of these people actually care about people like us, not the landlords, not our coworkers, certainly not the politicians." He had said in that moment.

As October rolls around and the leaves begin to fall, you find yourself beginning to bring two coffees to work, one for you, one for him. He always shows an appreciative nod. But the moment you start to think about asking him to actually go out with you for coffee is like being the fish pulled out of the water and accepting it's inevitable fate. You were gonna let him drive you insane.

You're sure of it as you are caught up in the nerves and find yourself softly grabbing his hand to stop him outside the front doors of the office. You quickly pull your hand from his. no doubt blushed a deep red. But he just stares, waiting for you to speak. You clear your throat. "I- um- Sorry, I was just gonna see if you had plans now." And it pains you the way he doesn't speak, just continues to stare.

"There's a diner on the corner near here. I think they have decent pie."

He loosens the tension in his shoulders and looks down. "Oh. I'm actually sort of drowning in... paperwork right now." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. God, you hoped you hadn't made him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry."

You quickly shake your head and let out a breathy laugh. "Oh no! It's totally fine, I probably have paperwork to finish too." You hope it hides the pang you feel in your chest. "I'll see you tomorrow." You swiftly turn and walk away before he can respond.

━━━━

But you wouldn't see Edward tomorrow. Matter of fact you wouldn't see him for the next three days after Halloween. You try not to let it bother you.

It's the beginning of a cold November, he's probably just sick or desperately needed a vacation. Or perhaps you'd seriously fucked it all up and he couldn't even stand the sight of you. You can't stop the deep sigh that comes from you as you rest your forehead in the palm of your hand. Embarrassingly, you ask Zach if he's heard from Edward. Not that you expected him to be particularly helpful. "Are you guys, like, fucking?" You are stunned and stammering your words. "Wha- No! No. I just worry about him."

"Look, I wouldn't worry about him too much, I mean the guy's basically a fucking recluse. When do you ever see him outside of here? Maybe it's good that he's somewhere besides here."

Still, there's no chance of you actually focusing on work and you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through news headlines, before one in particular catches your eye.

'Mayoral Incumbent Donald Mitchell, Jr. Murdered in his Home on Halloween Night.'

Holy shit.

━━━━

Edward is back at work after three long days, and despite your worry of his annoyance and anger, he is oddly elated.

It's the first time he approaches your desk. Leaning against it, coffee cup in hand, and flashing an awkward smile before asking, "So did I miss anything?" It leaves you a little taken aback, but it's a relief to see him approach you willingly after your last conversation.

"Um yeah, Zach was a total prick as usual- Oh! And our mayor was murdered."

He raises an eyebrow and takes a sip from the coffee cup. You feign annoyance, "No but seriously where were you? I started to wonder if that psychopath got you too."

He smiles. "Just sick. November weather and all."

━━━━

The first time you see the green mask you are in a huddle of coworkers around a computer screen.

'Police Commissioner, Pete Savage, Murdered. Killer Leaves Shocking Confession.'

"My God. What a sick freak." Zach interjects.

You can barely stand to watch. The video is hardly graphic aside from the disturbing voice of the masked man, but the implications of what happens when the video cuts off leaves your stomach turning. You walk away. Desperate for some space, but also desperate for a distraction. Edward sits straight in his office chair across the room. You hesitate slightly before striding toward his desk and leaning your weight against it. You can feel the sweat beading at your forehead as you lightly brush hair from your eyes. "Shit."

It's merely a whisper to yourself, but he turns his head to face you. For once his face shows concern towards you. Yet he still says nothing, only looks. Observant as always.

"Sorry. I needed to get out of that." You gesture towards the group of coworkers still huddled and murmuring among each other. He glanced back, before turning back towards his work. "The news?" He inquires quietly.

"Yeah. It's a little too much for me to stomach." There's a little pause as if he is hesitant to say anything before finally replying, "They were pricks. Don't you think they kind of deserved it?"

You straighten up, looking at him with shock. "I think they were still people with families." He frowns at you before you finally walk away from his desk to make your way to the restroom. You needed to get a grip.

━━━━

Edward apologizes for his insensitivity after work. You had stayed with him outside of the building long after all of your other coworkers had left. "It's fine." You refuse to look at him as he lights a cigarette and gets in a few quick puffs. You're being mean. But if you're honest the combination of his rejection and his comment earlier in the day had set you off. "And I'm sorry for last week." Only then you look up at him.

"I've had a lot going on, and it feels a little unfair to bring you into all of that."

"This feels like an excuse to let me down easy. It's okay if you just don't want to go on a date-"

The feeling of chapped lips on your own stops you mid sentence. He tastes of coffee and cigarettes and you crave more, but he pulls back quickly. His free hand remains at your cheek, holding your face in a gentle caress. "It's not an excuse. Things are just complicated for me right now." His eyes never leave your face. It's the best look you've gotten of them. Of him. His features are gentle behind shaggy hair and acetate glasses.

Something feels wrong and eerie in the back of your mind. Like seeing him this close gave you a sickening feeling of deja vu. Things were definitely complicated. The bags under his eyes were showing his exhaustion well, he had gone from elated to unwell since his return. He seems like a broken man, but he'd never let you close enough to find out why. You can't help but feel the connection, like he deserved a shot even if he didn't want it. Even if he thought he was smarter. Even if there's a side to him that could hurt you. You push down your feelings of uneasiness.

You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips.

"When you're ready."

━━━━

You're awake nearly all night the next weekend. Spending the entire time digging through news about the figure known as The Riddler, his possible next targets, possible identities, and most importantly all of the video footage he'd put out in the last few weeks. It's certainly not healthy. You generally steer clear of these sorts of things. Years of therapy had gotten you far and you would rather not ruin it by desensitizing yourself. But you can't help it. You find yourself going deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole until you find yourself tuning into his streams late at night.

He speaks with such a confidence in himself. As if he has all of the answers, and is just waiting to enlighten the world. His followers are even more terrifying. They'd do anything for him. You wonder how low a person must be in life to resort to this sort of behavior. But, you're not a psychiatrist. Who are you to speak on these people. These strangers.

"We are going to cleanse this cesspool of city."

You slam the laptop shut.

Sleeping isn't easy after this sort of activity. You should've known. You turn on a show you don't actually care about to give yourself some sense of security in background noise. And soon you find yourself drifting asleep. It's not great sleep. You can sense yourself tossing and turning, but you can deal with it. Everything is fuzzy until you find yourself on your back.

Paralyzed.

It's not uncommon for you to experience sleep paralysis, but you've experienced it less after your time in therapy. You try to keep your breathing steady, trying to convince yourself that whatever you see is merely a hallucination.

Shh. Shh. Just breathe.

But the figure that appears is familiar. That's what scares you the most. The green coat and mask is horrifying as it inches towards the bed, and you can't scream. you can't move away. You can only watch the blood drip from his gloved fingertips onto your floor as he stares. Tilting his head at you slightly, as he brings a hand up to his head. You can hear your heart pounding and you are practically internally begging yourself to wake up. The latches on his mask pop open and you're horrified to find that the face underneath is so familiar. A slight smirk on lips you have kissed before. Blood dripping from a hand that you've held before. You try to scream. Tears falling down your temples until he is suddenly gone and you shoot up in your bed.

You can't hold back the cry that escapes your throat. It wasn't real, he's gone, and you're safe in your room.

━━━━

Until suddenly the safety of your room begins to feel a lot less safe. You hear it. The creaking of the floorboards at night, the slight tapping against the glass of your bedroom window. The slight squeak of leather rubbing and rustling together. You're too scared to open your eyes those first few nights. You'd rather be blind and take your fate than die in paralyzing fear.

But you know it's him.

It was never unclear what was staring at you in the night. Maybe the nightmares of the leather gloves touching your skin hadn't been nightmares at all. You want so badly to be sickened. To run into your bathroom to empty your stomach out of panic and fear. Instead you feel a strange mixture of annoyance and arousal in your gut.

He thinks he's smarter than you.

You find yourself playing into his games.Attempting to one up him. To show him you aren't scared of him. That you can keep up. You begin to deliberately change in front of your window. Letting lacy fabric hit the cold floor and standing just a tad longer, stalling before covering yourself back up.

You hope he's watching when you peel off your work tights. You hope he's imagining himself on his knees tearing the delicate fabric from your form, only to be blocked by a thin pane of glass. You wanted the upper hand.

You hope he's watching as you sink two fingers into yourself, thinking about crisp, white button ups and clear framed glasses.

━━━━

The next few weeks are tense at work. You heard the news of what happened to Gil Colson at Don Mitchell's funeral. Edward would walk in everyday, and attempt to greet you, only this time it's you who is short. You have a little hope that he can't see straight through you. But you can see it in the way that he looks at you that you're an open book. Who's to say that he won't just watch, but actually kill you to keep you from talking. But deep down you both know your lips are shut tight.

So you work through the days, just ready to get home. You can hardly stand to look at him. It makes you feel like you're an accomplice. A sitting duck for a man who probably doesn't even care about you, withholding a tip to the police because deep down you really do like him. And you had hoped he liked you too until things got complicated. Now you think it would just be best if he abandoned you right where you were. But he doesn't. In fact, he suddenly has more courage than you'd ever seen from him. It's evident as he catches you by your arm and pulls you into the alleyway beside the office after work is over. It's dark and you'd be lying if you said you weren't scared, but he kisses you like nothing is wrong. Like he has no clue. Like nothing has changed.

You pull away from him, wide eyes staring back at him. "Are you okay?" He asks quietly as he brushes a hand up your arm. You can't help the break in your voice. "I know, Edward."

He just stands and stares. "What?" You take two steps back. "You're killing people." He continues to stare. He drops his hand from your arm. The silence scares you more than anything. But he simply sighs.

"I think you should go home and get some rest."

And before you can argue he walks away with a quickened pace.

━━━━

So you do. You return to your shitty apartment and try to compose yourself. What would he do now that you said that? Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you had accused him of something he genuinely didn't do. But it didn't feel wrong. You sigh as the hot water hits your back. You had hoped a shower would help you feel refreshed, but for the first time in a while, it feels like a chore. You can't enjoy it, so you rush through it. As you step into your bedroom you stop in your tracks. The window is slightly ajar, a cool draft flowing in tingles your bare legs. And then you see him. The figure in the darkness of your room. This time you're not dreaming.

He's in your room. You're paralyzed. The position you swore you'd never let yourself be put in. He's got the upper hand.

He just stands there. A part of you wishes he would attack you. Kill you. Anything just to break the still silence. You realize you're shaking. You agreed to play his game and now you're trailing his lead, allowing yourself to be beaten.

"Edward."

It comes out as a shaky whisper, but he visibly takes it in as he steps toward you to close the distance. You can see his eyes crinkle at the corners through the green mask. He's smiling. And he reaches a gloved hand to your face, cupping one cheek. You can feel the warmth radiating from his hand even through the glove. So, he is human. The Riddler has a beating heart and flowing blood. He is not a cold, lifeless monster. His stoic frame you had become so familiar with at work was gone. He catches a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

He is terrifying.

"No more through the window. I'll be gone soon."

Before you can entirely comprehend the statement and it's implications, your brain forms the word that leaves your mouth. "Gone?"

He simply smiles again, this time reaching his hands behind his head to abandon the mask he had come in with, and there he is. Cherubic features glowing under the street lamp light that flows in from your window. "I watched you live for a month. I watched you eat, sleep, undress, touch yourself. But you knew that right? Otherwise you wouldn't have put on such a show."

You attempt to struggle away from his grasp in disgust at his words but he holds you tight in front of him. "But that's alright. I'll tell you the truth because I hate liars. I liked knowing that you were doing it all for me. I wanted nothing more than to cleanse Gotham, to give them true salvation, but you put a dent into that plan. You became a distraction that I foolishly indulged." The soft light is hitting his features just right. He looks like an angel in devils' clothing. And his tight grip is right back to a gentle caress. His hand reaches the small of your back and you're sucking in a shrill breath.

His kiss is soft, inexperienced. Much like the other times you had kissed. But he is treating you like glass that might break. You think it might be the first time you've seen him relax enough to be seen as a particularly gentle being. He's ditched his looming, arrogant behavior you're so used to just to show you his utmost affection. It's the first time you have seen him like this since the first time you had kissed.

But some part of you is burning. He's not your prince charming. You know exactly what he is capable of, you've seen it. You're not glass. You're not a damsel. This is a man who has watched you undress for him through your window for weeks. This is a man who has killed. And it shouldn't bring heat into your core the way it does. Perhaps it's the thrill of the danger.

You kiss him so hard that your teeth clash. It stuns him as his hand lifts from your body momentarily before finding purchase at your hips. He's inexperienced, but the desperation coming from both of you is enough to cover it up.

The warmth and weight of his tongue in your mouth is intoxicating. The little sparks of guilt and shame that flash in your stomach are quickly subdued by his nimble fingers caressing under your nightgown and up your thighs to hook in the waistband of your panties. You can't help the pathetic moan that escaped your mouth as he slowly drags the fabric down your legs.

"I wanted to do it right. Wanted to take you to that diner, buy your food, take you home, and act like I hadn't thought about fucking you into your mattress every single night."

It's almost strange to see him on his knees. He has built himself up to be godlike. You were sure he wouldn't mind you on your knees in front of him. Absolutely worshipping him. The warmth of his tongue swiping over you has your thoughts lurching, and yes, god, he is divine.

"But it would be wrong to pretend to be someone I am not. I'm not a liar."

You can't help but tangle your fingers into his beautifully unkept hair and pull. He is ravishing you. Sinking two fingers into you until you feel the heavenly curl right into the spot that makes you whimper. "Eddie-" He swallows your moans in a desperate openmouthed kiss. His fingers are working you open, you can feel tightness build in your stomach. Like a rubber band ready to snap. But it's ripped away from you as he pulls his fingers out of you and swiftly pushes you to the bed. The sounds of his belt buckle coming undone has your heart racing faster than it already was, your stomach fluttering.

He buries himself inside of you with no hesitation, no time to adjust. It hurts and his inexperience is noticeable, but the look of bliss on his face and his slight whimpers has you ready to cum before you've even started.

You're gripping onto the back of the green leather parka, reminding yourself of who you're with. Who you're letting fuck you right now. But those green eyes bring you back to all those times he'd flash a slight smile your way in the office. He'd try to hide it but you're the only person he showed fondness towards in that hell hole of a workplace. Thinking back to the night he had kissed you has tears welling up in your eyes again. He notices.

He slows his pace momentarily, letting his short thrusts turn into long drags. A gloved hand wipes tears away once again and you meet his concerned gaze.

"Does this not make you happy?"

Your hands move to cradle his face. A move that he's certainly not used to as his thrust halt for a moment in surprise. "I am happy. But what comes after this? Am I supposed to ignore you and pretend I know nothing about you? That I feel nothing for you?" He stops his movements completely now. The room has fallen silent apart from the heavy breathing between you two.

"I have to mean nothing to you. Momentarily."

You knew the answer before you asked the question, but it hurts just as bad anyway. You don't take your eyes off his. The Riddler's facade is cracking before your eyes, you can see his eyes becoming glossy. It's almost like he's turned into a completely different person. He kisses you. Deeply, but not rough. There's so much pent up feeling behind it, you could sob even harder. But you don't and he keeps kissing you as he resumes his movements.

You're not using any protection, but you're too blissed out to care. You crave that feeling of warmth. "Eddie- I-"

His hips start to stutter as he cuts you off and buries his face in your neck. " I love you- please God- just say it back to me. Tell me you love me." You hold his face in your hands guiding his gaze to meet yours again. "Edward, I love you."

That's all it takes for him to fall apart. His whimpers and cries are like music to your ears and the feeling of warmth as he releases everything he has into you is blissful. You both have to take a second to recover, foreheads pressed together. But eventually he rolls off of you carefully and tucks himself back into his pants. The silence is deafening. You said it to push him over the edge, but was it true that you loved him? The idea of falling in love with Edward was easy in your mind, in a perfect world the idea of settling down somewhere else and waking up next to him felt good. But this wasn't a perfect world. Edward killed people, powerful people, and the chance that he'd get away without paying for it was slim.

"I'm gonna turn myself in in a couple of days."

"Okay."

"You should leave Gotham. It's not going to be safe for you here. If the cops ask you're visiting a friend in Bludhaven."

His hand grips yours as he looks at you.

"I promise if I ever get out, I'll find you."

━━━━

You do as he asked of you. Got a hotel in Bludhaven and in the next couple of nights you watched the television endlessly, waiting to see his face. The night you finally did, you cried yourself to sleep, gripping the hotel sheets as you buried your face into your pillow.

But you held yourself together and did as Edward asked.

When the man in the bat suit showed up at your hotel door a week after the flood you give your best answers.

"I'm visiting a friend, but the flood has kept me in town."

"No, I didn't know him well, we just worked together."

"I mean he was a little strange, but I never thought he would murder someone."

“I would never have expected it to be him.”

"I hope he gets the help he needs."

#edward nashton #dano!riddler #dano riddler #paul dano riddler #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you #dano!riddler x reader #paul dano #danonation #the batman #edward nashton smut #edward nashton fluff #edward nashton ily forever -abram #gonna log off for the night to keep my nerves down i think

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