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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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meeowdrey · 1 year

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Office Crush

low-key dont like this but whatever

#Paul dano #riddler #Paul dano riddler #the batman 2022 #batman #fanart #riddler fanart #riddler x reader #y/n #art #edward nygma #Edward nashton

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mimikw · 10 months

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Do yall still remember htis guy

#i be popping bottles #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #paul dano #dano riddler #edward nashton fanart #edward nashton x y/n #edward nashton x you #riddler x y/n #riddler fanart #｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡

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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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doublyee · 8 months

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The girl is no one. Yall can do self-insert with her

#dano riddler #edward nashton #edward nashton fanart #batman #the riddler #the batman 2022 #self insert #riddler x reader #danonation #riddler fanart #riddler x y/n #slightly suggestive

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sweetums0kitty · 1 year

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Good Things in Small Packages

Edward Nashton x Soft!Dom reader

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

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

Commission for @lovesickrobotic

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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crxshed-skxlls · 9 months

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— ❝ Masterlist / Sources

Here is a masterlist of my fanfics/headcanons. My Request info is linked [here] if you want to request anything from me. [Note that most of my fics would be classified as "dead dove", but some are way more tame than others.]

All of my headcanons and upcoming stuff is below the MDNI.

Creepypasta Headcanons / Fanfics:

Proxies // Slenderman

Ethereal Sickness: Slender x Male!Reader fic

Slender x Fem!Reader headcanons

Dual Purpose: Masky x Fem!reader x Hoodie fic

Enough is Enough: Sub!Ticci Toby x Fem!Reader fic

Classic Creepypastas

Home Invasion: Eyeless Jack x Gn!Reader fic

Bloody Painter x GN!Reader headcanons

Comedic Jealousy: Laughing Jack x Fem!Reader x Candy Pop

Candy Pop x Fem!Reader headcanons

Laughing Jack x Fem!Reader x Jason the Toymaker aftercare headcanons

Laughing Jack x Fem!Reader Headcanons

Laughing Jack x Virgin!Fem!Reader headcanons

Treatment Plan; Nurse Ann x Male!Reader fic

A Welcoming Surprise: Jane The Killer x Male!Reader fic

Generally Coming soon:

Technical Difficulties: Zalgo x Male!Reader fic

Colorful!Laughing Jack x Fem!reader headcanons

Creepypastas

Multi-purposed tools: Sequel to "Dual Purpose"

8 sub!Ticci Toby x AFAB!reader headcanons

Workshop Mischief: Jason the Toymaker x AFAB!reader

Chilling Discoveries: Alpha!Hoodie x Omega!Reader

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Note

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

Now make them kiss 🔫👹

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

Imagine the Riddler being your secret admirer. - Part 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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imagine--if · 1 year

Text

E. Nashton

A/N: Here you go, I promised, I hope you like it 😅💚 I think I'll do a part two of him confessing later, maybe disguising himself as The Riddler cus he's still a little shy 🥺️

Words: 1069

Everyone at work is the same. Quite loud and obnoxious, money-makers, party-goers, busy professionals. As professional as you can get in a city like Gotham, anyway. You just wanted to make enough money to have as easy a life as you could bargain for in this place, or maybe save up to move somewhere else. For now, though, you're stuck in the same office building, checking over the same papers sent up by the forensics accountants team downstairs.

But there's one employee down there who's just as quiet and polite as you try to be. You probably wouldn't have noticed him, just like his peers, if it wasn't for seeing his name signed in a rather odd style of handwriting at the top of a folder of pages full of numbers.

"Might be something to do with money laundering, I reckon," Zach tells you with a proud smirk, the man who sends the files up. "It's a good job we caught it, right?"

"Yeah, it's really good," you respond with a grateful smile, flipping through the pages absentmindedly. Your thumb stops under a top corner, and you study it, noticing the name. E. Nashton.

"And... this is your work?" you ask him with a slightly raised brow, Zach shrugging in answer.

"Well. No. The, uh, one of the guys did some of it, but I brought it to the team's attention and all. Obviously."

"Yeah, nice work, Zach," you agree, which does the trick, and he leaves smugly, going back downstairs and saying something to a man who seems startled when Zach thumps him a couple of times on the shoulder, in a friendly sort of way. You watch in interest, wondering if it's the E. Nashton written on these papers. Clear-framed glasses are pushed up the man's nose, and curious green eyes peer from behind them, delicate strands of sandy brown hair framing his round face. The face that looks defeated and mildly frustrated by the time Zach's left.

You frown to yourself, glancing at the work that's ordered perfectly and ready to send to your boss. No one else here puts the same level of effort into their work. Zach's probably told the poor guy that he's gotten all the credit. Maybe you could talk to him? It's just a word of encouragement from a colleague, right?

As everyone finishes their projects at the end of the day, you grab your things and head downstairs, weaving your way between people pushing at doors to get home. You only just catch the man you'd seen earlier, tapping him gingerly on the shoulder. But even that seems to surprise him, and he flinches, whirling round to face you with a wide-eyed expression. His cheeks flush when his eyes take you in properly, but you don't notice, apologising awkwardly.

"Hi- oh, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's alright," he breathes, scarcely blinking, and you nod slowly at the reaction.

"Um, okay, well, I just wanted to thank you for the work that went up. It was all written really clearly, and I don't think I'll have to do much before it's sent off. It's nice to see someone putting more than the bare minimum in what they do, I guess. Kind of makes my job a bit easier, too."

Edward looks at the folder in your hands, then back up at you.

"I thought... Zach said-"

"Yeah, I know he sent it up and commissioned the work, that's... great," you say, not bothering to hide the slight tone of sarcasm, and a fond smile tugs at Edward's lips in response. "But you did it. So, thanks."

"W-well... you're most welcome," Edward says happily, almost giddily, and you smile back in amusement.

"Cool. It was nice talking to you. Edward?"

He nods quickly. "Yes, I- I'm Edward."

You reply with your name and a half-smile, Edward repeating it like it's something fascinating. You observe him for a moment; a little odd, but kind of sweet. You should have spoken to him sooner.

"See you around, then."

He seems somewhat disappointed as you take a step back, your hand lingering on the doorhandle that leads outside, but says goodbye anyway with a small smile and a watchful stare. You look away first, going off in the direction of your home, the interaction replaying in your head vaguely as you let yourself into your apartment.

Nice guy. There aren't many people like that in Gotham. Maybe you could chat again soon?

And then the thought's replaced with the next thing that nags for your attention.

...

Meanwhile, a man goes mad behind his laptop.

Square pictures are pulled up onto the screen from various social media sites, and Ed can't help but smile back at your naturally happy expressions in every one. It seemed so easy for everyone to be so happy and carefree. He wasn't everyone.

But then, neither were you.

Someone noticed him. No one ever notices him. And his boss was so quick to dismiss the scheme he had bought up, practically threatening his job for poking his nose in. Zach just likes every bit of praise he can get, and he gets far too much of it. But not this time. For once, somebody praised him. You praised him.

"You're so lovely," he whispers adoringly into the solitude of his apartment, the blue-white glare of the laptop reflecting in his glasses.

A part of Edward finds himself such a creep, so disgusting and wrong and alone, especially for stalking a pretty young workmate he'd only met half an hour ago. But no one ever spoke to him unless they had to. You didn't have to. But there you were, bright eyes and sweet words, appreciating justice as much as he does, and not letting the darker cases go like any corrupt citizen would.

He'd keep watching. He'd give it, what, a week or two? Just to be sure he wasn't mistaken, though he was almost certain he wasn't. That you really were some sort of beacon that stood out to him, company he liked at work, could fantasize clearly about at home. And then...

Then what? Blurt it out to you? Scare you off? No. Too risky. He could almost hear the pity and confusion in your voice with a rejection. E. Nashton was nearly as confident and important as he wanted to be...

...but The Riddler was.

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kitmon · 2 years

Text

What Happens Behind Closed Doors and Live Cameras | Edward Nashton (The Riddler) x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's not enough to fuck you in the isolated space of his apartment, Edward needs to let everyone know just how good he takes care of his precious baby.

Pairing: Edward Nashton aka The Riddler (The Batman, 2022) x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Tags: smut (18+ only), dom!edward, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), edging, dacryphilia, swearing (duh), BDSM elements (reader's wrists are bound and she's gagged for a good portion of the fic), praise kink, daddy kink (its only used once), kinda pet play?? there's no, like, collars or anything but he calls her 'puppy, pet, etc.,' spanking, fucking on a live stream (exhibitionism), dumbification, creampie, degradation (slut, whore, etc.), oral (m!receiving), throat fucking... I think that's it but if you catch anything, please please please let me know!

Author’s Note: I started writing this in June for a close friend's birthday but I'm fucking ass at finishing anything I start so it took me 3 months to finish this lmao! But you know what?! Better late than never so BE GRATEFUL! A fat fucking smooch and a huge thank you to @queenimmadolla for beta reading AND FUCKING KILLING IT! She left me over 250 comments and spent at least 3 hours editing this! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! So please please go send her some love, she absolutely deserves it. Happy reading, you filthy sluts <3

“Alright,” Edward mutters to himself as he fidgets with the dingy camcorder a bit more, always a stickler for the details. “And we are live.”

His voice is lilting as he presses the obvious red button upon the camera’s top, the red dot blinking in slow increments in the top corner of the LCD screen as an air of boyish excitement radiates off of him, evident in the joy laced in his voice. As he takes a step back, he rubs his covered hands in anticipation, addressing the pitiful number of viewers through the low-resolution lens of the camera he has propped over a second hand and, imbalanced tripod.

“Hi, guys,” he waves both of his hands, not able to hide the giddiness behind his movements. “I hope that you’re as excited as I am because I have,” he pauses, stepping back a few paces so his towering frame isn’t hoarding the entirety of the screen. As he does, the length of a drab mattress over a rickety metal bed frame comes into view, your naked and writhing body— dressed only in a mismatched pair of bra and panties— splayed over the pilling sheets revealing itself as well. “A little surprise.”

Your arms are bound by the wrists with what seems to be scrap cotton jersey from an old t-shirt, hands resting in curled fists over your rising and falling chest as you exhale harshly through your nose. The camera is expertly angled to keep your identity hidden, the details of your face limited to the slope of your nose and your occupied lips; separated by a gag of similar material to the tie around your wrists, effectively muffling your groans of desperation and neediness.

“As you can see, my lovely partner has offered herself up for your amusement, haven’t you, my darling?” he asks, the words leaving his lips with a condescending undertone that riles you up and has you arching your back against the mattress, bedsprings creaking beneath you. Edward takes the final few steps to the bed before sitting down at the edge of it, reaching his gloved hand towards your ankle, vinyl tracing up to your knee and back down. Having been deprived of his touch for so long, the minuscule contact has you dragging your thighs together and tossing your head back against the pillows, whimpering behind the gag like a neglected puppy in hopes that he would give in to your obvious needs.

He hums before giggling behind his mask, the sound muffled through the layers of cling wrap and cold weather plastic leather protectant.

“Looks like baby’s all hot and bothered because I won't touch her, is that right?”

“Mmhm,” you hum behind the gag, nodding your head fervently along.

His hand inches past your kneecap and up your thigh, moving closer to your aching core with a painful slowness. A wet spot had formed over the barely-there patch of fabric that clothes your cunt and you flaunt the sign of your wanting to him, curling your back against the bed and spreading your thighs, unabashed in your wanton behavior. Just as his fingertips reach the meatiest part of your thigh, only a breath away from where you silently beg him to extend his touch to, he squeezes the fat there, your skin dimpling with the force before he releases his hold on you and stands from the bed, the springs groaning with the loss of his weight and leaving you whimpering with the loss of his touch.

He steps towards the nightstand where a laptop rests, displaying a live chat. Edward reaches for the trackpad and scrolls through the few responses that have filtered in. From where you lay on the mattress, with a bit of straining, you can see the laptop’s screen and the responses on the right-hand side of it along with the live captured video of you, sprawled out along the bed, delayed only by mere seconds. From what you can see, the chat is showing an influx of interaction with waves of messages ebbing and flowing, coming to a slow stop before rushing all over again. The engagement seems to be high today, Edward often only receiving a couple dozen viewers— give or take a stream— whereas today, the chat is lively and from the view counter in the corner of the screen, you can see that nearly a hundred people have joined to watch him ruin you for their viewing pleasure.

You catch glimpses of obscene queries and remarks of adulation flickering before rippling across the screen, carried away by the next wave of comments.

Who’s the slut spread out on the bed?

I wanna see her face

I’m getting hard just watching her squirm

“Let’s see what the chat has in store for you, pet,” Edward says, interrupting your scanning of the chat and drawing your attention to his hunched-over form, still fiddling with all of the technological controls over on his end of things, clicking on this window and exiting out of that tab before he says: “What should I do to her first? The power is in the hands of the people.”

With the prompt left out in the open, responses begin cropping up within the chat, each viewer tossing their suggestion into the hat.

Undress her

Show us her tits

Show us that whore’s pussy

As Edward combs through each suggestion and mulls each one over, he hums to himself, “Hmm, seems as though the majority have a deep fascination with what you look like underneath all those clothes.” He trails off before coming to a consensus, “I suppose I can indulge them.”

He moves away from the laptop and stalks over towards you, slim shoulders hovering above you before he throws one leg over your hips and holds the other in a standing position at the side of the bed, crawling over you.

He brings his gaze down to your glistening eyes, your stare clouded with ardor, pupils dilated and shadowed over by your drooping eyelids. The look that you send him from below has his intense demeanor faltering for a moment, the man wanting nothing more than to envelop you in a tight embrace and have your soft voice coo gentle hymns of affirmation into his hair, neck and chest.

The thought is fleeting as he reacquaints himself with the situation; the game that you’re playing at but he yields to your longing and bewitching stare with just a single gesture. He brings his hand up to caress your cheek, the vinyl that covers his thumb swiping over the apple of it one, two times, trailing the glove’s powdery coating over its path. His hand falls from your face, his fingers tracing the tendons of your neck, slipping past the dip of your clavicle and along the slope of your left breast. Once it reaches the underside of the bra cup, he pushes up and gropes you through the thin material. His other hand joins and soon he’s toying with both of your breasts, squeezing them and pressing them together, accentuating your cleavage before he brings his face down between them.

Edward’s mask is cool against your skin and the force of his deep inhale tickles you as he takes in your sweet scent through the brief slit of his mask. He exhales a deep sigh through his mouth before he’s reaching his hands towards the middle of the garment where a thin strip of fabric holds the two cups together. He pinches at the opposite ends of it, taking the top of each cup into his hands before ripping it apart, the sound of seams snapping encouraging you to gasp.

He isn’t very strong, not at all actually. His strength lies within his intellectual prowess but in these moments, where you are bound, helpless and at his gracious mercy, he can impress you with the slightest of aggressions. These are the moments that he finds himself to be the most powerful, the most domineering and intimidating. You worship him like this and at his weakest. He worships you just the same.

“There we go,” he mutters to himself as he admires you; your breasts on full display, nipples perked and ripe.

Your flushed chest climbs and falls in time with your heavy breathing, each rise becoming more frequent with your excitement. He lifts a hand to cup one of your lush mounds, the warmth of your skin penetrating past the elastic material of his gloves and seeping right into his skin. His thumb swipes over the apex of it, pressing against your nipple and watching with fascination as it nearly flattens into your skin before climbing to a stiff erection once more.

While Edward plays with you and watches your pliable skin mold to his fingers and palms, he wants nothing more than to latch his lips onto one of your tits and suckle your plump skin into his mouth, nibbling on the warm flesh as he watches you writhe beneath his doting lovebites.

He restrains himself though, settling for the warm weight of your breasts in his hands as he lets his imagination run wild with thoughts of what he’ll do to you the moment the cameras are turned off.

“Come here, my faithful viewers!” He cheers, his demeanor shifting seamlessly from his sultry obsession with you to his cheery and excited stream host persona. He stands from the bed, springs creaking once more with the loss of his weight as he steps towards the tripod. He detaches the camera from the stand and carries it back to you, angling it to take in the length of your helpless position; thighs rubbing together like that of a grasshopper, creating a silent sort of symphony within you that is meager in comparison to what you really yearn for. Edward’s conscious and careful to not let the lens capture anything above your cupid’s bow, tending to focus his film on your supple breasts, thighs and the erotic picture of you bound and gagged.

With your attention focused on Edward and his daunting position above you, you miss the flow of chat messages but with the way that Edward groans— the sound slipping into a giddy chuckle— you can only assume that the slim bar on the screen was painted with comments that would have your skin crawling, for better or worse.

Edward tsks at them, “Naughty, naughty, are we?”

He directs his voice to you as he informs you, “Darling, I’ll have you know that the masses are deeply creative when it comes to methods of divulging your pleasure, or alternatively, prolonging it.”

A weak sound slips past the gag crammed in your mouth and your lower body tenses, back arching over the mattress and inviting him to run his hands over you. He waddles his knees closer to you and leans over your squeezed legs, your thighs fighting to hide the embarrassingly obvious damp spot that highlights the core of your panties.

“Open up for me now,” he mutters, coaxing you to part your legs as he pries his fingers between the plush flesh of your thighs. They part with little defiance from your muscles. You squeeze your eyes shut and wrinkle your nose in frustration, pressing the side of your face into the pillow as your body yearns for his touch.

“Oh, don’t worry, puppy,” he coos, his eyes fixated on your covered center. “Be good for me and I’ll satiate your every desire.”

His hand inches up your thigh, palm soothing your heated skin as it climbs higher with each pass before his fingers finally press against your clothed cunt. Your whine climbs in pitch, choking around a gasp at the sudden pressure; he’s rubbing blindly, his index and middle finger running up the length of your panty-clad slit, feeling the warmth of your pulsing core and juices seep past the cotton of your underwear against the latex of his gloves.

“Mmm, so wet for me and I’ve hardly begun to touch you,” he whispers, more to himself than anyone else present as his disbelief nearly overwhelms him.

Nearly.

His fingers continue their assault, dipping low and rubbing over the wet patch covering your hole before dragging them upwards to massage slow but firm circles against your clit. A wail escapes you, muffled by the gag and you toss your head back against the pillow, the tendons in your neck straining and bulging against the thin layer of your sheen-covered skin.

“Does my dirty baby like it when I tie her up and shut her filthy mouth? Is that what it is?” He taunts above you, the condescending pout you’re sure is on his lips coming through so clearly. “Look at this pitiful little thing; crying and humping her desperate cunt against my fingers like a little bitch in heat.”

You can't even be bothered by his degradation and bullying, the barely-there pleasure feeling like a searing brand against you as your head lulls from hanging back to falling against your shoulder. You were helpless to do anything but watch him continue his slow, torturous ministrations against your most sensitive crevice.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He croons, pushing the frilly hem of your panties to the side to expose your puffy pussy, glistening with your arousal in the low light of the room and clenching on nothing, eager to be filled as it's exposed to the cool air offered by the dingy and scraping fan twirling away in the corner.

“You love my fingers, don't you?” He goads while pushing his middle and ring finger past your entrance, pumping them in and out of you languidly.

With your speech inhibited, you can only provide him a zealous nod as you mewl at the intrusion behind your gag.

He gives a low chuckle, eyes honed on his fingers pulling out of your precious cunt, soaked to the knuckle, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

His thumb rubs over your exposed clit in tandem with his probing thrusts, fingers curling to knead against that perfect spot inside of you. Your hips begin to move against his hold as you dig your fingernails into your palms and he tuts at your insubordination, reaching to prop the camcorder atop the nightstand so he can free his other hand and press it against your hip, pinning you to the mattress to keep you steady.

“Easy, baby. Told you I’d take good care of you,” he reminds you. “I’ll let you finish if you sit pretty for me.”

At his promise, you attempt to overcome your desires and keep your hips from jolting up, opting, instead, to curl and uncurl your dainty painted toes as a means of expending your energy.

He’s pulling his fingers in and out faster, fucking into your cunt at a wild speed. The subtle texture of his gloves rubbing along your walls has a warmth blooming in your stomach as the filthy noises of the latex straining and slapping wetly against you sets you alight. Your head falls back against the pillow as your eyes roll into your skull from the pressure of your impending orgasm.

Edward releases your hip and drags his free hand over the underside of your thigh, hooking into the bend of your knee to push your leg up and press it closer to your stomach to spread you wide, allowing his fingers to sink just a little bit deeper inside. His thumb continues flicking across your sensitive nub at a delectable speed and you moan a sweet sound behind the spit-soaked gag, your eyes watering as he works his fingers into that spongy patch inside you. Just as you're nearing your end, the heat in your belly building and rolling into a white explosion, he pulls his fingers out of you. The warmth dissipates and you cry out a sob, tears that had built with intense pleasure in mind falling from frustration instead as you screw your eyes tight and chew on the fabric of the gag, teeth gritted in contempt as he just chuckles above you at your misfortune.

With the tips of his fingers, he pulls your arousal from your hot, pulsing hole and spreads it across the folds of your weeping pussy, wet latex trailing up and down the expanse of your throbbing cunt. The heel of his palm just barely grazes your clit in passing as he does so, urging your body to jolt with each noncommittal touch and it only serves in frustrating you further.

“You got something to say, puppy?” He snickers and as you stare up at the static green farce, you can make out his eyes crinkling in a beady squint behind the cling wrap, a smile blooming behind his mask. You muster your best distraught look, all of which is genuine: chest heaving with the labor of bubbling tears, brows cinching, and glassy eyes downturned as you nod your head.

He brings his dry hand up to your face, trailing his fingers gingerly over the drying tear tracks that paint your heated skin before they run along the homemade gag in your mouth as he asks, “What do you think, chat? Should we let the pretty lady speak?”

It comes out distracted and hushed but the seedy microphone of the camcorder picks it up anyway. The answer is made obvious by the sudden surge of comments emerging from the low corner of the laptop’s monitor to the very top before disappearing, lost between a dozen other responses. As his eyes peek at the screen from his periphery, he’s left amused at their enthusiasm.

“You’re in luck, pet,” he cooes down at you. “Looks like they want to hear those pretty little cries of yours.”

He lifts the still-slick fingers of his other hand to your chin, drawing them up at a slow jagged pace until he reaches the frayed and curling edge of the fabric lodged between your teeth. He hooks his fingers into the cloth and pulls it out of your mouth so it can fall, damp and limp across your throat.

Your lips are flushed and swollen, glowing with a mixture of your saliva and your own arousal having traveled from the tips of Edward’s fingers to paint your cupid’s bow and chin. You whine as his touch leaves you again, just as quick as it came.

“Please, baby,” your voice croaks, hoarse from lack of use. “Wanna cum so bad. I‘ll do anything, just please let me cum.”

“Okay, puppy,” he caves to your begging and your body slumps as a weak smile plays across your lips. “But first, you have to suck my cock.”

A sick shimmer blooms within your irises, eyes glistening with lust at his terse command. Though your cunt throbs and leaks between your legs, teary with neglect, the thought of having Edward’s thick cock prodding at the gummy flesh of your throat, choking you with the girth of him— it was much too good to pass up, not that he would have let you have a say, anyhow.

His hands travel up his thighs as he leans back to sit on his calves, head angled down to monitor his movements as deft fingers glacially begin popping the button of his trousers open, the sound of his zipper loud with each plastic tooth of it he passes during its climb down. You strain your neck to watch his every move. You can see the outline of his dick, the prominent bulge stressing the blue tartan fabric of his boxers.

After lowering his pants, he pushes his thumbs past the waistband of his underwear and pulls the tattered fabric down, revealing the pale brown smattering of hair above his pubic bone that trails down and fleshes out into a bushy tuft. The golden brown netherhair crowns the base of his cock and paves the way for his pink, throbbing shaft and blushing head to spring free, bobbing against his stomach. At the substantial sight of it, all pretty and ready for your mouth, a whimper simpers past your lips, your hips involuntarily jolting against the bed.

“It's okay, puppy, don’t you worry,” he reassures you with a breathless sigh, stroking his cock in lazy pumps. His eyes gaze over your body with a predatory gleam. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”

He crawls over your crumpled figure, with as much grace as he can muster while holding his dick in one hand, sitting in a hover over your chest. His knees are planted parallel to your shoulders, his cock at eye level and you find your lips parting, almost on instinct, as an invitation for him to smother you with his length. With him so close, your eyes can only focus on the ruddy, leaking tip of him, disappearing within the snug wrap of foreskin before peeking out again with each thrust of Edward’s hips into his fist. Pre-cum oozes past his slit, the near-pearlescent liquid beginning to dribble down the underside of him at the change in angle.

His strong hand reaches for your face, fingers digging into the pillowy flesh of your cheeks to steal your attention away from his delicious offering and onto his piercing eyes. Your lips are forced into a dopey pucker and your eyes begin to glimmer with childish tears, the water blooming from your unspoken need and neglect though the rest of your features remain passive, obedient.

“You want this cock, sweetheart?” He teases, grabbing his dick from the base and tapping the sticky, shiny head against your bottom lip. Your tongue darts out to collect the salty residue he leaves behind, savoring the distinct tang.

You nod your head as best as you can with his hold, still unyielding. You can hear a giggle pass his lips before he speaks.

“Show me how much you want it, baby”

He releases your face with a shove and cants his hips forward so the head of his dick prods at your mouth. You reach your bound hands forward and have your palms travel over his stomach, pushing his hoodie and jacket up to reveal his pudgy, white belly. In quick succession, he seizes your conjoined wrists and presses them further up the bed with a heavy and hard grip so your arms extend over your head, your breath catching in your throat as he does so. Edward leans down so his face is mere centimeters away from yours, his piercing and near-frightening green eyes glare at you through the fogged plastic of his cling wrap and behind the crystalline lenses of his glasses.

With a gruff and mean voice he commands, “Suck.”

You’re quick to comply as soon as he straightens himself, giving the head of his cock a baiting kitten lick before your jaw creaks open, allowing you to finally wrap your lips around him. You push your head forward and swallow as much of him as you can with the awkward setup, craning forward and tilting your head to try and stuff him down your greedy throat. He groans and tosses his head back as you struggle to take the length of him, tongue swirling and tracing the veins that wind up his shaft.

With one hand still occupied with your wrists, Edward uses the other to fist the hair at the nape of your neck and force you further down his cock, your nose grazing the coarse hair decorating his pubic bone with each of his vigorous thrusts. The tip of his dick is testing the spongy tissue at the back of your throat, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as your gag reflex strains to remain idle.

He yanks at your hair, pulling you off after a particularly rough suck with a shudder and a groan as he grips the very base of his cock and squeezes there, almost as if he’s trying to keep himself from cumming too soon.

“Gonna fucking come with your whore’s mouth working me like that,” he pants. “But I’d much rather watch it seep out of your puffy, spent hole.”

His words are wispy like he could hardly believe it himself, “Gonna ruin this pussy, mark you from the inside so you always know who you belong to, so they know you belong to.”

You love the possessive slur of his words, finding it amusing that, despite this whole ordeal being his idea, he can't stand the idea of anyone even thinking of burying themselves in what's his. His filthy words spur your aching core on further, a rush of slick trickling past your folds as you clench around nothing. You push your hips up against his ass and whimper, lip trembling, tired of his cruel game. A tear trails across the apple of your cheek, overlapping the sheened tracks of the ones that fell before it.

“You want that, right, baby?” He asks, lifting his hand to wipe the evidence of your impatience away. “Hm? Want me stuffing you so full you’ll feel it in the morning?”

“Yes,” you breathe with choked desperation.

“That’s what I thought,” he patronizes, shoving his tear-basted thumb past the seam of your lips to let the savory flavor settle over your tongue. “C’mere.”

He takes you by the shoulders and flips you over onto your stomach, trapping your arms between your body and the mattress. Your cheek presses into the musty piece of furniture, lips pursing with the pressure on your face. Edward grabs your hips and hikes them up into the air, forcing your back to arch as he situates you on your knees.

You maneuver your head to try and get a decent glance over your shoulder at what he’s doing, humming to himself as he takes his sweet time perusing your body. In the low light, he admires you, running his hands over the round globes of your ass, squeezing every once in a while as they drop and then drag back up. He dips his head lower to catch a glimpse of your glittering hole, soaked with your lust and pulsing with just the thought of him filling you up.

“Would you look at that?” He whispers in the tense air.

Edward reaches over to the nightstand, scooping up the camcorder so he can invite the chat to enjoy a look at you.

“Isn’t she just perfect?” He remarks wistfully as he glides a thumb through your lips. “All throbbing and aching for me. Just a hole waiting to be used.”

You huff and wiggle your hips, pushing back to try and find even an ounce of relief. At your jittery signs, Edward sinks his thumb past your lax wet muscle and your breath catches in your throat with the familiar sensation.

“Please, baby, want you so bad.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he clicks his tongue. “Only patient girls get rewarded,”

“Okay! Okay, I’ll be good,” you pant out. “I’ll be patient, I promise.”

“That’s my good girl.” He draws his hand from the small of your back up between your shoulder blades, repeating the motion once, twice before pressing his hand into the side of your head and pressing it deep into the bed, nearly suffocating you. “I know you will, baby.”

He places the camera back on the nightstand, letting it clatter down before gripping the base of his cock and moving it to run the head through your slick folds, coating it in your creamy release. You mewl but try to keep still, burying your face into the mattress to muffle your disobedient noises. He takes note of your compliance and, to reward you, pushes past your entrance slowly, more so to get his dick wet before cumming rather than to be mindful of the ache that burns between your legs. A pitched gasp escapes your throat at finally having your request satisfied and your eyes flutter shut with the stretch of him against your walls.

“My God, this cunt was made for me,” he sighs, sinking deeper. “So wet and warm and fucking tight.”

With his cock sheathed to the very base, he stills before drawing his hips back and pulling nearly all the way out before slamming them forward in a violent rut, his dick reaching the far recesses within you and causing you to jolt forward on the bed.

“Gonna ruin this pussy, make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

He picks up his pace, his movements quick but his thrusts holding their same fervor. He’s hitting hard and fast and deep and all thoughts escape your mind as he abuses your hole. The squelching and slapping of skin on skin fills the room and reverberates off of the walls, his deep groans and grunts melding with your desperate moans and mewls into a hot soup of unabashed wantonness.

Suddenly, the hot crack of Edward’s palm against your ass rings within your ears before you actually feel it and as the sting begins to fester with a burn as you cry out, the pained sound dissolving into a moan.

“You like that, you little slut? You like when I hit you, punish you for being so dirty?”

You nod your head, cheek burning from the chafing friction of the sheets but your nonverbal response is cut short as he smacks you again, much harder than the first time.

“Words,” he demands.

“Yes!” You yelp. “Love it when you put me in my place!”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he chuckles, though there's no humor behind it. “Take this fucking cock, fuck it like the filthy whore you are.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you’re gasping out in between tormenting thrusts, so close to finishing but before you can reach the blinding light at the end of the tunnel he’s pulling out and you want to cry, your tear ducts stinging with the loss as a shameful whine passes your lips, almost like a sob.

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothes. “Just wanna see your tits while I fuck you.”

He flips your pliable body over once more so you’re lying on your back, head lolling, your brain dazed and vacant.

He guides his cock, the head brushing against your glistening clit. Despite having just been inside of you, the touch shocks you, thighs tightening before he delves back in, his technique now far more brutal than before, if even possible. Your bound wrists lay between the valley of your breasts, the mounds bouncing along your chest with the force of each of his savage, pistoning thrusts.

He grips your legs by the thighs and glides his hands up to the crooks of your knees, leaning forward to press your quads up against your stomach, folding you to breed a pleasurable stretch. With your legs spread out of the way and him relentlessly pounding into you, he’s reaching an untapped patch of nerves within you, the head of his cock tapping deeper and harder with each pull and push of his hips. You cry out at how incredible it feels, each thrust sending you closer to the edge and setting fireworks off behind your retinas. The pleasure feels too good to contain, you shut your eyes and indulge in his vicious pace, relishing in the rock of your body in tandem with his.

Before you can get too caught up in feeling yourself, his hand finds your jaw, wrenching your face forward. The latex of his gloves squeaks as he tightens his hold and digs his fingers into the plush flesh of your cheeks.

He growls out a ‘look at me’ and you force your eyes to lazily flutter open, labored breaths puffing out past your pursed lips.

With your attention on him, he leans in and berates you, “Look at you, all spread out like a desperate little whore, all for me.”

You whine and writhe as he continues his bullying.

“That’s right, hmm? Just a dumb fucking slut that loves my cock?”

As he says this, he shoves his hips forward and causes your breath to stutter. His cock feels like it's clogging your throat with how deep it reaches and you do your best to answer his question, nodding your head against his resolute grip.

“Say it,” he pushes, gritting through his mask and teeth. “Tell them how much you love how I fuck you.”

You keen as his pace refuses to wither, your brain malfunctioning at just the prospect of answering his simple question. His hand readjusts and lowers so that it’s near to entrapping itself around your throat.

“C’mon, baby, tell them how much you love being used,” he chides, impatient. “We don’t have all day.”

With a particularly rough thrust of Edward’s hips and the euphoric feeling brought on by his hand constricting your airway, the tears that once gathered along your waterline fall over your cheeks as you cry out in a gasped sob.

“Mmm! Yes! I lo-ove it!” You hiccup. “I love how you use me! Love how you show me off!”

He laughs, and drags his hand down from your neck to grope your breast with an ungentle grip, squeezing one more time before lifting his hand to cradle your cheek, thumb pushing your tears away only to smear the wetness across your temple.

“I know, puppy,” he stutters out, very obviously near his end. “You’ve been so good for me and the viewers, I think she deserves a reward, don’t you agree?”

The chat floods with responses of consensus, each anonymous hermit behind a computer screen or otherwise hoping to indulge in the sight of you unraveling beneath who they knew to be their leader, their God.

“Yeah, that’s right, baby, go ahead and cum for me, wanna feel you choke my cock.”

You do as you're told, the pressure building up to a rolling boil as your body seizes and stutters with the feel of him inside you drawing you to your blinding end, crying out to the four walls as your back curls off of the bed. As your pussy throbs and convulses in spasms around Edward’s cock, he groans thickly and keels over you, catching himself on his hand as his hips stammer and start to become erratic. He releases a whiny, pitched moan when you feel his hot load spurt into you, the warmth of it heating you from the inside out as you sigh into the mattress.

You’re both panting like wild dogs caught in a heat wave, attempting to regain your lost breath. He slumps over you, the heat of his exhales clouding the saran wrap behind his glasses and mask. After a moment of calm, he leans back and pulls his softening dick out, his release crawling out of your hole and dripping onto the wrinkled and bunched up sheets. He grabs the camera and angles it to display your still convulsing hole.

“Isn’t that a sight?” he wonders aloud, muttering beneath his shallow breath.

He tuts and pushes two fingers into your cunt, gathering what spills over your asshole so he can push it back in. The breach causes you to shiver with overstimulation before relaxing back against the pillows. He takes his cum-laden fingers and reaches them towards your open mouth, bringing the camera along so it only shows your lips and chin.

“Suck,” he commands.

You lean up and take his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his digits and moaning against the bitter taste of your combined juices.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises as he pulls his fingers away.

You fall back against the few pillows beneath you, your eyelids starting to grow heavy as your head lulls against the cushions. Edward turns the camera towards him, holding the lens much too close to his face as he thanks the audience and ends the live, placing the camcorder back on the nightstand and shutting the laptop with a gentle click.

He begins undoing his getup; putting his glasses aside, pulling the mask over his head, and tossing it to the floor before unfurling the near-suffocating wrap from his head. With his features uninhibited, he places his glasses back on and starts consciously climbing over your body.

“You did so good for me,” he whispers against the skin of your neck, nuzzling his face there before slithering his arms under your back and squishing you against him. “I’m sure everyone loved you.”

You giggle at his needy, cat-like affections, “Baby, I wanna touch you.”

“Oh, right! Let me get that for you.”

He unties the jersey cloth from your wrists and tosses the scrap piece of fabric across the room. Edward runs his thumbs back and forth over the tender indentation that runs along your wrists, soothing the skin with his warm touch and the sympathetic press of his lips. Once he’s finished, you wind your arms around his neck and reach to thread your fingers into his russet locks, scratching close to the nape and behind his ears. He smiles that goofy grin down at you and despite the effort it takes, you lean up to kiss him.

“God, I miss doing that when you wear your mask,” you sigh as you separate, uncurling his strands from your fingers to rest your hand against his cheek.

“Me too,” he assures you, turning to kiss the wrinkled palm of your hand. “But we can’t have the GPD finding us out can we?”

“Nope,” you say with a disconcerting smile. “But it’s a good thing that when the cameras are off, I get you all to myself.”

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spookbusters · 2 years

Text

Spit Me Out (18+)

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

// Pairing: Edward Nashton x F!Reader

// Word Count: 1.9k

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

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

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

_____________________________<3______________________________

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

"Edward, is everything ok?"

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

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

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

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

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

It makes him throb.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You want another?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You can help me clean up."

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