#edward nashton x y/n | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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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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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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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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

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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.

｡ₓ ू ₒ ु Taglist ू ₒ ु ₓ｡

@simestandswithtaylorswift-blog @carley-carley-carley @lostbunn @dencchan @dragovegogrimborn @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @edwardspumpkinpie @murderbimbo00 @sweetums0kitty @beel-mcburger @cml-san @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @r4iner @bimboanime @phoenixgurl030 @vaylordd @dangerouslittlefairy @katjourno @yoyoanaria @yaeyuuki @vinxlsketches @beenz-beenz @ghoulsgraveyard @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @r3ptiliaaa @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowers @hxney-lemcn @confusedchildsstuff @callsigncrash @sugahbabieexo @bokksieu @skateb0red @wilburrrsworld @philiasoul @darthcringe @felicityofbakerstreet @bloodypantomime @deadlights-darling @tianotfound @mortem-muse @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell

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colorsofjun · 2 years

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i made a playlist for all you dwayne/klitz/eddie/brian/calvin lovers + eli lol<3

(ALL THE LINKS ARE PINNED TO MY PROFILE!!<3)

….he’s so pretty i want to cry.

Should i make more of these playlist? Who should I do next?

1K notes · View notes

kitmon · 2 years

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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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sardonic-the-writer · 8 months

Text

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

↳ summary: edward meets someone new

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

↳ song: malmo—mook

masterlist!

Love?

No. Insanity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edward blinked slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#the batman #the batman x reader #the batman x you #the batman x y/n #the riddler #the riddler x reader #the riddler x you #the riddler x y/n #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you #edward nashton x y/n #paul dano #paul dano x reader #paul dano x you #paul dano x y/n #x reader

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lost-in-sokovia · 1 year

Note

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

HI DARLING YES!

windbreaker

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

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

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

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

“sorry about what?”

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

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

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

loved.

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writingsofmax · 1 year

Text

Home For Christmas

Words: 3.7 K

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

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

Christmas.

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

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

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

What a joke.

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

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

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

“Nothing.” Edward would always reply.

Like every year.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy Holidays”

No one wants me.

“Merry Christmas!”

There is something deeply wrong with me.

“Have a happy new year!”

I am never going to fit in in this world.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie smiled weakly at your last comment.

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

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

“Eddie? Are you okay?”

He looked up at you over his coffee apologetically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Upset.” You finished.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For me?” He asked, incredulously.

“Yes.”

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

You laughed, “Yes. They are for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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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danosrosegarden · 1 month

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(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.

#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 #valentine's requests 24

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sweetums0kitty · 11 months

Text

Mask Maketh The Man

Another Sav fic so soon?! What is this productivity? Anyway! This is another request from my good pal Bunny! @lovesickrobotic I hope you enjoy Bun! <3 Btw my requests are openhttps://www.tumblr.com/sweetums0kitty/717181379533815808/requests-are-open Shoot me an ask!

Warnings: None just pure fluff

He was beautiful, regal, and powerful, so different in his fearsome regalia than when he's just your mild-mannered Edward. He had finally assembled the complete outfit after months of searching Edward was finally the Riddler. "Well… How do I look?" came his modulated voice sending a cold shiver down your spine. His already piercing gaze was heightened by the way the clear frames of his glasses were set over the bridge of the mask. He looked like death, he was an angel of vengeance… Edward was everything. "You're- oh my god, this is really happening!" laughing as you pushed your hair out of your face with a deep sigh. Eddie stepped forward and you instantly stepped back from his hulking form. Arms hanging lamely by his sides he lifted his hand to scratch the back of his neck but stopped when he was reminded of the plastic wrap at the back of his skull. "Do I scare you like this?" he insinuated taking a step back with a forlorn tilt of his masked head. quickly you stepped forward attempting to soothe Eddie. "No, no! I'm not… You don't scare me! I'm just worried… What if you get caught?" beginning to pace back and forth in front of where the Riddler stood. He snorted and you turned quickly to glour at the masked man before you. "It's a perfectly valid concern!" Sighing the hot breath fogged the lenses of his mask making Eddie look a bit less fearsome. "C'mere" gesturing for you to come into his long protective arms. Obediently you stepped forward and instantly the warm, comforting presence of Edward enveloped you. Resting your head on his chest you could breathe in the familiar scents of coffee and old paper that made Eddie your Eddie. He was so tenderly soft it was hard to imagine the hands that gently stroked your hair, shushing all the niggling doubts that plagued you could be used for such gruesome violence.

Gently he bent forward hooking leatherbound gloves under your knees and bringing you almost effortlessly (He was a bit out of breath, he did always say he wasn't physically gifted. But for you! An effort was made) to the couch before sitting down with you snugly perched in his warm lap. The old futon groaned under the combined weight but held fast. Sitting curled up in his arms you felt truly safe, like nothing in the hellish streets of Gotham could take you from Edward. Still like a child afraid of the monster under the bed, you needed reassurance. Turning to face Eddie you hesitated to touch his face. Emerald eyes held your gaze and you could just see the way his brows were furloughed with the crinkle of the skin around his eyes. "Angel?" one gloved hand reached up to touch your cheek and instantly it clicked. "Can I touch your mask?" the words flopped from your lips in one undignified lump. "Of course, you can.." a bit incredulous that you would even ask to touch him. Even so, your hands gingerly met the vinal of his mask in an exploratory touch. Ghosting fingers over the shapeless face covering you could feel where his gorgeous nose was encased, down further and there were his cherubic cheeks and down once more and you were brushing over his lips. "See I'm still me, just better." whispering as you worked the hooks of the facial covering off so you could properly hold the reddened cheeks of your beloved. Letting the mask flop between the two of you as you bent forward to press a kiss into the plush petals of his lips. Instantly you melded with Edward. Lips dancing together as you cradled each other's cheeks. Finally pulling away to rest your foreheads together. "You're already amazing Eddie." gently kissing his nose. Snuggled under his chin you felt like renewal could be found within your love.

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always-andromeda · 1 year

Note

i just wanna cuddle with edward nashton 🥺

– 𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐄𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐧

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh, me too, anon. in fact. this sent me on a little brainstorming session! you probably totally didn't expect a headcanons list from this but lmao I always have to go overboard so enjooooy. <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: vague mentions of Edward's trauma, tooth-rotting fluff, nothing else I can think of!

Physical affection is foreign to Edward. He craves it more than anything else; desires to be known so deeply that when you finally try to give him just that, it freezes him up almost entirely.

It starts innocently enough.

You're watching television with him, only partially paying attention to the game show. It's far more engaging to watch Edward watch the show anyways.

His expression quirks every so slightly with each question. Head tilted, you can tell that he's deep in contemplation. Completely fixated on the screen. Barely blinking.

And you're so lost that you lean into him. You keep telling yourself that it's unintentional as your head rests carefully on his shoulder.

Edward almost doesn't notice you at first. It isn't until your arms curl around his soft midsection that he realizes how close you'd gotten.

He lets out a nearly inaudible, "Oh," as you snuggle into his side. Brain going blank, he stays still for a few seconds.

He's struck by the warmth of your body. How your hands caress him over the fabric of his shirt. He feels each one of your fingers gently pressing into his skin. In that way, you play with the ripped seams of his soul. Your softness has a way of untangling the frayed threads, leaving them open to being weaved into some new design.

There are a few things he does when he finally comes back to his body. He closes his eyes and hopes that the moment etches itself on the back of his eyelids. Then his lean arms offer their own form of kindness as he awkwardly pulls you closer, almost into his lap.

Like a decades old couch in your grandmother's living room, you sink into Edward's body and he groans softly as he lets part of your weight anchor him to the earth.

A chuckle from deep in your throat escapes you. "Mmm, you're comfortable."

You mean I'm not repulsive? Edward wants to ask. But he doesn't.

He tries not to let that worried little voice take form in his head, but his own voice still cracks when he says, "Thank you." To which you laugh one more time.

Edward can be so terribly nervous sometimes over the most normal things. Your amusement quickly turns once you remember that it's probably because of his past; probably because he hadn't really known this simple, sweet sort of solitude. But you flip that thought again and resolve, then I'll make this normal for him.

At nearly the same time, Edward determines that he likes this. He likes the way that even among all of the chaos and darkness, he can have this equilibrium. As he kisses the top of your head tenderly he remembers that this moment belongs to him and him alone.

#askmeda✨#anon ask✨#paul dano #danocel #danonation #the batman #edward nashton #dano!riddler #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x y/n #edward nashton x you #edward nashton fluff #dano!riddler x reader #dano!riddler x you #dano!riddler x y/n #dano!riddler fluff #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

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wenwenbittercake · 8 months

Text

Chapter 5: Apologies Unheard

(Thank you for reading my fanfic. Here to remind you all again that this fanfic’s story line is not made by me. I just insert Y/N into the Riddler 2022 comic. I really recommend you read the comic beforehand. With that said, I hope you enjoy~

TW: Kidnapping, Drugging, Swearing)

How did this happen to me?

Around 12am, you roll around the bed, eyes wide open in thoughts. Why was he ignoring me? Did I upset him by what I said before? No, I didn’t say anything out of the line though. Oh no, what If I was a bother to him. You sit up on the bed. Your eye shift to your phone. I should try giving him a text.

Y/N: Hey I know it’s been a while but how are you doing? I’m sorry if I bothered you last time. I didn’t mean to; I was just worried about you. If you really want to do this, then I won’t force you out of it. Just be careful what you are dealing with.

Wait no, that’s still too long.

You: Hey I know it’s been a while but how are you doing? I’m sorry if I bothered you last time. I didn’t mean to; I was just worried about you./

No, still too much

You: Hey I know it’s been a while but how are you doing?

Hmmmm, we can work with that.

You send the message and lay back down on the bed. Eyes on the ceiling fan as your mind falls back into the abyss of thoughts. You don’t understand why you start to like Edward. No, it’s more like a curiosity than ‘like’ really. To be honest, he scares you sometime. You can feel something seriously wrong with him, something unexplainable. Like he’s hidden in plain sight but when you spot him, your heart jumps out of the rib cage in shock. But you suppress it down to be closer to him for one reason.

He looks so familiar. Like a lost memory that you can’t put your hand around. A missing piece to your puzzling mind.

You were always a people pleaser. You weren’t like this all the time. Maybe your parents’ divorce has to do something with it. Ever since you moved downtown, you start being a people pleaser. ‘Hey Y/N can you go fill my water bottle?’ ‘Hey Y/N can you grab my books from my lockers?’ ‘Grab me a coffee while you’re at it, the usual.’ You hate it. Not the constant demands but the way you put up a kid’s TV host smile and reply, “Sure.” It’s almost a habit, saying ‘no’ even feels odd on your tongue.

“You should stop doing that.”

“Huh?” You turn to the voice beside you.

You are at the lobby of KMTJ. Waiting for the rain to calm down since you forgot to bring your umbrella, when a guy in his 20s pops up out of nowhere beside you. You were surprised by how you do not notice his presence until you heard his voice.

“Um Excuse me?”

“You should stop doing that. You say yes to everything.” He spoke softly as if he was speaking under his breath. How did you noticed?

“Oh really? I didn’t even notice that.” I said with a nervous smile.

“See you’re doing that again,”

That caught her a bit off guard.

“A what?”

“That smile. It’s fake.”

Part of you felt offended that a random stranger would call you out like that. Who does he think he is. But you…

“Oh, um sorry.”

“You can say I’m being a dick right now.”

“Wait no, you’re not-“

“No, it’s fine, you said yes, your whole life. Putting others before yourself. You’ll end up forgetting about yourself. Scream if you want to scream. Shout if you have to shout. Don’t hold back because if you hold back for long, you wouldn’t be able to make a sound in the future.”

Your eyes widen. The sound of rain drops fills the silence. The man looks down to the wet ground or the raining scenery but never turning to look at you. But you. Your eyes never left his. His words ring in your head.

‘Shout if you want to shout.’

You part your lips and-

“Ahhaa” You scream but it comes out as a pathetic squeal. The man turns his head to look at you in a flabbergasted expression.

You quickly clap your palms over your mouth.

You look up at him with wide eyes. And-

“Hahahehahah-“The man laugh hysterically at you. He covers face with his face and laughs. One of his hands holds his stomach to control himself.

“Stopp, you said I should scream. I still want to try- you know what forget it.” You turn to the left with a redden face before you feel a large hand holding your wrist. You turn around in surprise.

“I-I’m sorry but that was great. You did great.” He said with a smile on his face. His cheeks red from laughing so hard earlier. He looks so……...warm.

“I um don’t know why I told you that, I just don’t want to see you being stepped on by other people. The quote I just said is um from Rene. You should listen to his podcast. He give-“ He looks to the floor nervously. He rubs the back of his neck to calm his nerves.

“What’s your name?” You mutter softly, your eye never leaving his green eyes, but the boy’s gaze leaves the marble floor beneath him. His eyes drift to meet hers.

“Edward Nashton. You?”

“I’m Y/N L/N.”

．<{=．．．．．<{=．．．．．<{=．．．．．<{=．．．．

“Ting” Y/N didn’t even realize she had fallen asleep before she was woken up by the sound of her phone. She rolls to her side to check her phone and-

Eddie: Can we meet up? Right now?

Huh? That’s odd. Did something happen to him. Y/N start to worry.

You: Hey did something happened?

She quickly sat up on her bed, putting on her light gray jacket.

Eddie: It’s really important, I fucked up. I know it’s all of a sudden, but I need to meet you.

He didn’t even need to say it twice. She already got her shoes on with her phone in her hand.

You: Ok ok where? I’m coming.

Eddie: Can you meet me at the opposite at Shoreline loft? My apartment is there.

You: Okay just give me a few minutes, I will be there.

Y/N only realizes how off the situation is until she reaches the street. Her head is too wrapped up with worrying over Edward that she forgot to worry for herself. She looks around the neighborhood and realized how fucked up the place is. Shoreline loft is literally beside Iceberg Lounge. Why would Edward live in a place like this. She obviously looks so out of place, wearing her pjs and a jacket, walking down East End. What is she trying to get herself into?

You: Hey Edward, I’m near Iceberg lounge, where is your building?

Shortly after she texted that. She felt a tap on her shoulder. She jolted and almost screamed before meeting those familiar green eyes.

“Shit god, sorry Edward, you scared me.”

“Sorry I- come, I really need to talk to you.” Edward face look like he had seen a ghost, or he turned into a ghost because of how pale he looks. His eyes widen as if he had seen a dead body (Ironically)

Edward leads her up to a flight of dark green stairs. She follows close by him, taking note of how dingy the place is. With graffiti on the stairs and the wall beside them. This place is a mess. When we got to his front door. He struggles hard with opening the lock due to how hard his hands were trembling. Y/N started to worry about what he had really got himself into.

“Here, let me help.” She gently takes the key from his hand and opens the red door with ease. He mutters a quick thanks before entering the apartment.

After she closed the door behind her, she turned to face the apartment and realized how unkept it is. Not as in ‘messy-unkempt’ but doesn’t look like a home. The walls were yellow and beige with mold spots. Cold air surrounds the atmosphere with a slight mold and chemical smell to it. That’s when she realizes how dangerous her situation is. Even if she knew Edward, she’s not close enough with him to be at his apartment in ungodly hours. Furthermore, she was so in rush she didn’t even think of telling anyone that she was going to Edward’s house. No one knows she’s here. No one will know if he were to do anything to her.

“E-Edward? What is that you want to tell me?” She mutters trying to not sound nervous even though her trembling lips.

Edward grabs a glass of water and takes a huge gulp. He leans against the sink and lets out deep sigh before turning his head slightly to Y/N. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Um sure.” She except even though in her mind she wants to scream no and run out of the apartment.

Edward grabs a juice bottle from his fridge and starts to prepare a drink for her. He looks like he’s in a rush as his movements are quick and rapid.

“Um you can go take a seat on the-um.” He stops and thinks for a bit. He peers at his apartment with his hands on his hip.

His eyebrows raises a bit as if he had an idea. He walks into the other room. Y/N follows behind. He grabs a green chair at the corner of the room and places it in the middle of the room.

“There, have a seat.” With that he went back to the kitchen.

She did ask he ask her to. She waits there patiently. Her eyes wander over the piles and piles of ledgers stacked up over one another. There’s so many files and books that it spills out of shelves and piles up on the floor. The most concerning things in the room are cages. Rat cages, many of them. Y/N skin crawls at the sight of it even if there isn’t a single mouse in it.

“Here.” Edward hands her a glass of red liquid. She gulps at the sight of it. Something feels odd.

“It’s um cranberry.” He replies swiftly as if he realizes her suspicions.

“Oh okay.” She sips the juice not wanting to be rude.

“So, about what you want to say to me.”

“Oh, yea um, I-I saw a man die today.” Edward said as he sits on the rolling stool across her.

“What?” Y/N jaw drops.

“Yea, fuck.. I… Mr. Stone he-he’s in it too. He killed Mr. Joon too.”

“Wait wait slow down. Why would he do that?”

“He’s working For Falcone. He believes Mr. Joon was cutting money from him. Which is not true, and I think I may have caused his death.”

“Wait how?”

“I..I was the accountant that pointed out the dirty money. Which cause Mr. Stone to look through it and…” Edward’s voice quite down at the end of the sentence which Y/N could probably guess what happened.

He drops his head, with his face covering his palm and groans in frustration. Shortly follows by Edward’s quiet sobs. Y/N’s heart aches at the sight of Edward being in despair. She places her half empty cup on his work desk and directs her attention back to him. She places her hand softly over his back and caresses his back. He looks up to her with his tear soak cheeks. Without an ounce of disgust, Y/n wipes his tears off his cheeks with her thumb and caresses his face tenderly. She looks at him in such forgiving eyes. Something he doesn’t deserve.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Suddenly, Y/N got a sudden hit of daze. Her surroundings start to fade out. Her body and eye lids gradually start to grow heavy. Her body falls limp out of the chair on to the floor. Before she could make the impact, Edward swiftly got out of his rolling stool and caught Y/N in his arms on the floor.

“I’m sorry, I just had to I’m sorry.” He apologizes sound more like cries for forgiveness. He wraps his arms around her tightly, pulling her limp body close to him.

“I just had to.” He murmurs mostly to himself then to her as the last thing she felt was Edward’s hands holding her.

．<{=．．．．．<{=．．．．．<{=．．．．．<{=．．．．

Warmth. That’s what she remembered. Fire dances across her eyes. The sound of cries and scream echoes through the dark empty house. However, an award hand pats her back.

It feels warm.

Nice

And safe.

She leans into the touch, leaning her head against his small shoulders. Her eyes never leaves the fire dancing in the fireplace of her old house.

“What’s your name?” Her small voice came out.

“Edward. You?”

Edward

．<{=．．．．．<{=．．．．．<{=．．．．．<{=．．．．

Fuck Fuck fuck. What the fuck Edward? You got one thing good in your life and what have you done?

Edward contemplated what he had done while sitting beside Y/N on the bed in a fetal position. He chews on his nails anxiously as he waits all night for her to wake up. Did I give her too much. No, If I’m correct, she should be waking up soon. God is she dead? Edward often checks on her pulse or her breath when he has that thought. He places her ear on her chest slightly, to hear her heartbeat, it reassures him that she’s here, she safe, and she’s with him.

He reasons with himself that what he did was right. In fact, he believes he should have done this sooner. The city is corrupted as hell. Isn’t really a place for an angel like her to dwell in. That’s why he needs to keep his angel safe. He hit the realization of how messed up the city is after what went down last night. The thought of losing you in such a manner haunts him. He loves you too much. Too much for him to bear. Too much for his own good. He needs to keep an eye on you. He has too.

Edward finally snaps out of his abyss of thoughts when he felt the shift of the bed sheets. He turns to see Y/N slowly waking up from her forceful slumber. He didn’t speak a word, just watching her mundane action of waking up intrigues him. How he gets the chance to take a peek in her most vulnerable moment.

“Wh-where am i?” She mumbles, struggling to lift her eye lids as the effect of the drugs still hadn’t subside yet. He crawls closer to her from the foot of the bed. His face inches away from her, inspecting any sign of discomfort or nausea from the drugs he gave her.

“Hey hey it’s alright, you’re safe. You’re with me. It’s alright.” He softly coos at her while running his finger through her soft hair then resting his large palms over her cheek. He rubs his thumb over the apple of her cheeks to comfort her.

“Edward?” Y/N tries to get a grip of her reality, but her brain is too scrambled up to take note of her surrounding or how dire the situation is.

“Yea, it’s me Ed. I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m sure the medication will fade away after a while but for now bear with me angel.” He mutters softly as he lays his head on her chest to hear her heartbeat.

His hand travels to her waist. Holding her tight against him as if she could dissipate in any second. His hard breaths gradually start to calm down by the sound of Y/N’s heartbeat. He closes his eyes as he takes in the little peace he has in his hand.

“You’re safe. You are safe now.” He murmurs against her skin. It sounds more like a force comfort as Y/N even in her delirious mind, she feels furthest thing for feeling safe.

(Ok well thank you for reading and yes, Edward’s apartment layout is confusing as shit. Like look man got a kitchen first thing you enter in the house. Here is the layout of his apartment and trust me, I made this out after watching the scene in Batman where Batman raids the Riddler’s apartment/ hide out. So, it’s source material accurate. Or maybe I’m not sure because I only see glimpses of his apartment, so I don’t think I am 100% correct but hey A for effort, right? Thank you for the supports and enjoying my art. There will be more chapters coming up soon so stay tuned. Other than that, thank you and I hope you enjoyed.)

Chapter 6: Salvatore

#dano riddler #edward nashton #riddler x reader #riddler x y/n #riddler x you #the batman 2022 #the riddler #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x y/n #edward nashton x you #paul riddler 2022 #tw kidnapping #kidnap fantasy

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