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imagine--if · 2 months

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

Wordcount: 1.3k

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

He hated it when you were gone this long.

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

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

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

'Breathe.'

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

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

This was a baadddd idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you too, Ed."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧༺ 𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ༻∞ (message me know if you want to be removed. ghost blogs/dead accs have been removed.)

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finniestoncrane · 3 months

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Unexpected Exhibitionist

Young Justice!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 4k commission: a particularly fun commission from a wonderful friend, featuring an au where all the riddlers co-exist, and sweet yj!eddie is teased riiiiiiiight in front of them all, or at least, digitally 💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: teasing, oral sex, exhibitionism in a way!, sex on camera... kind of! (should be gn!reader but let me know if i've missed something obvious)

Eddie so very rarely asked to have some space from you. Only when he was focusing on something complicated or exceptionally important would he ever think of asking you to give him an hour to himself. And even though he had asked for permission to spend the morning alone in his office, you were prepared to deny him that, if only for the sake of checking up on him.

He hated when you fussed, of course, believing that he wasn’t worth the attention, or that he should be the one fussing over you, and while you were usually ok with being fawned over him and offering your support from a distance when requested, today was different.

There was a conference call, with the other Riddlers. A teleconference? Or a… you weren’t sure what the name of an interdimensional meet-up between several super-villains of the same ilk would be, if you were honest. But what you did know was that it had been driving Eddie insane with anxiety lately. And you felt it was your responsibility to try and cheer him up, or at least distract him for a little bit to make sure he was prepared for the afternoon. So you crept into his office, watching him type furiously as he wiped his brow of sweat, trying to think of what the best way to interrupt him might be.

With a hand placed on his shoulder, you squeezed it softly and let your fingers linger as you spoke.

“You busy, Eddie?”

Immediately ceasing the almost relentless and steady typing at his computer, Eddie turned to you, pushing his glasses up his nose with his finger and focusing his attention completely on your waiting smile.

“Never too busy for you! Do you… need something? Anything?”

He checked the clock on the wall, then the clock on the screen, then his watch on his wrist. A nervous habit he’d developed since cohabiting with you. When he was alone, it was easy to get distracted. To spend hours and hours, sometimes close to a full day, without stopping, speaking, bodily functions and needs tended to on autopilot. But he was trying his hardest to take breaks. Partly, because you told him it was good for him to stop, and that you wanted him to be healthy and happy. Mostly, because he wanted to spend every second he could with you, cherishing those moments, still in disbelief that you would give him the chance to.

Smiling at you awkwardly, hoping he hadn’t been neglecting you for too long, he turned the chair around. He was well aware that you could feed yourself, grab a drink when you needed one. But he liked to do things for you, to tend to you, care for you, spoil you almost. Like a princess. And the idea that you had been sitting around hungry or thirsty or tired or bored made him feel horrendously guilty.

“Yeah, dummy. I need you! I missed you.”

You offered him a warm smile, narrowing your eyes softly at him as you stepped closer, seating yourself on his lap, hands moving straight to his tie. You teased it, running your fingers up and down it as you watched the movements. Eddie’s eyes bore into you, watching your face as you took him in. he marvelled at the way you could look at him with such adoration, he’d never experienced anything quite like it. His hands fell to your waist, shifting slightly to offer you more space on his thighs, the grip on you light, but protective.

With a soft giggle, you squirmed a little, writhing against him as you brought your cheek to his, your lips close to his ear as you sighed, a quiet moan as you felt him against you, a definite stiffness growing as you let your fingers trail along his neck and through his hair.

As much as Eddie savoured your affections, physical or otherwise, he knew if he didn’t stop you now then he’d be drawn into you, unable to focus on anything else. He wasn’t too busy to get you a drink or hug you, but he was very aware that he had an appointment coming up shortly, an important video call, and he couldn’t miss it. He hated himself for what he was about to do, but it had to be done.

Eddie cleared his throat and leaned back.

“I can’t believe I am about to say this, but I’ll have to take a raincheck on this amazing… hug?”

“Could’ve been more.”

You winked playfully, but you were still disappointed. You didn’t question him, you knew he wouldn’t turn you down for just anything.

“I have the… the big conference call, with the others.”

“Oh! Well, of course you can’t miss that.”

Eddie winced at the thought, and you stood up from his lap, letting him turn the chair back around.

“You look tense though, Eddie.”

You rubbed at his shoulders, feeling your stomach flutter when he groaned in pleasure at the touch.

“I am… I’m nervous… I wish I could just distract myself, or have something to distract me during this. Something to take the edge off. I feel like they’re all so much more… qualified than me. That they have something I don’t.”

It hurt you to see him so dejected, to be questioning himself. It was easy to understand him. He was a lot quieter than the others. No less capable about being arrogant in his intellectual prowess, but not as cruel or loud as the others about his achievements and intelligence. He had informed you a few times before, but not in detail, about his hang-ups with his fellow Riddlers, that they were more infamous in their respective universes, that they had more power, more criminal achievements. But you were very aware that there was one thing he had that they didn’t. He had you.

“Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?”

You winked playfully, watching his mouth twitch as it tried to force a smile.

“I uh… you could stand there and look pretty, that always helps me. But it might bore you when we get down to business.”

“I could listen to you talk for hours, Eddie. Your lips look so pretty when you’re talking about your plans.”

There was an audible gulp as Eddie swallowed his nerves, his brain, usually so quick and competent, struggling to keep up with your flirtatious conversation. He was so nervous around you, even still, and the innocent and almost terrified way he tried to flirt gave you butterflies and made you fall in love with him even more each time.

You could tell he was running out of things to say though, so you put him out of his misery and offered up your services to him.

“Well, Eddie. I’m sure I can think of something to help you relax… and I promise I won’t get in the way of your prep for the meeting.”

Sinking to your knees you crawled around the chair and under the desk, where you settled on your heels. Your palms, firm against him, stroked up his thighs towards his crotch, where his pants were beginning to tent even at this slight touch. You couldn’t help yourself, unable to supress the delighted giggle which came out at how quickly you were able to have him aroused and at full attention.

“Oh, my! You’re certainly excited at least… maybe not quite relaxed yet, but we’re heading in the right direction, I suppose.”

Your fingers were twitching as you reached for the fly of his pants, undoing the metal button and unzipping them before tugging to pull them down. The delightful bulge sat between the opening in the fabric, covered by his boxers which you smiled at, noting that they were his lucky green ones. He really was nervous about this meeting. He was so entirely sweet and adorable, and the fact that his logical brain still relied on superstition and ritual at times when he was particularly worried or anxious made your heart leap in your chest. There wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do to help him through this, it was just lucky that the method you knew best was one that would satisfy you too.

Running your fingers along the elastic band at the top of his boxers, you hummed in satisfaction as you watched his cock twitch, suppressed by the fabric, desperate to be free, aching for your direct touch. You ran a finger over the top of his boxers, feeling his length tense up, jerking softly below the tickling sensation. Another giggle fell over your lips, sultry and coloured in your own obvious arousal. You licked at your lips and swallowed the gathering saliva, noting that you were drooling at just the idea of tasting his cock, having it, thick and hard against your tongue, choking you as you tried to take as much of it in as possible.

You couldn’t put it off any longer. As much as you wanted to tease, to take it slowly and offer a relaxing pace, you needed to at least hold his cock in your hands. You needed to feel him, skin against skin.

“Oh… oh! Are you… are you going to uh… oh wow! You are!”

As his boxers shifted down over his cock, it bounced free completely, sweetly coloured the same as his skin, his head a flushed pink that glistened with precum, and the tuft of trimmed but still wild pubic hair that topped it looked soft to the touch. With your drool threatening to spill over your lips, you licked them and let your tongue drag up from the base of Eddie’s twitching length to the tip, where you flicked your tongue swiftly. At the sound of his whimper, you wrapped your lips around the tip and hollowed your cheeks, sucking as you hummed in satisfaction, finally having him in your mouth.

His chest rose and fell sporadically, as though he were having to manually breathe in and out, his usual instincts inhibited by the flustered pleasure that coursed through him in heavy waves. Each time he opened his eyes to look down at you, he was sent writhing once more, the sultry way you stared at him driving him wild, insane even, at the notion someone as attractive as you would look at him as though not only were he somehow equally sexy, but that just the act of pleasuring him was enough to get you off.

Which it was. Testament to this, you could feel your underwear starting to dampen, soaked in your slick as you found yourself groaning with Edward’s thick, turgid cock stretching your mouth, pressing on your tongue, the almost sweet taste of his skin clashing with the salted flavour of his precum.

A shrill sound interrupted Eddie’s soft moans as you serviced him, tinkling out loud in the room. Choking on a gasp, you could feel Eddie shuffling around.

“Oh-oh god… it’s them… it’s early? I got the time wrong?”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t… you have to… I can’t do this while you’re there!”

“But you’re nervous! I’m helping!”

You smiled up at him, teasing slightly, it was impossible not to. He was so cute when he was flustered, and flustered was better than terrified. So you reached up and hit the enter button.

“No! Nooo-uh, hello!”

The screen was filled with the faces of the other Riddlers, each of them keen to begin their discussions, to hear Arkham’s plans which he had assured them all was the definite end to their problem, the Batman.

“How are we all doing today, my… colleagues.”

Eddie tensed in the chair as you returned your hands to his cock, taking it in your grasp, both fists lining the shaft as you pumped it slowly, languid strokes that made him gasp and stutter as he uttered his hellos over the camera.

“Are we all feeling ok?”

“Heh-ye-Es.”

His voice squeaked on the words, and you stifled a giggle at his reaction, cock throbbing against your palms. Desperately trying to compose himself, he sat up straighter in the chair, thick length writhing in your hands as you shuffled closer to him, your palms tracking up his thighs and pulling at his hips. With a soft exhale, you let your warm breath tickle over his skin, before your lips found his head, closing over it again.

As calm as he was able to be, Eddie focused, unblinking, on the camera as he tried his best to listen to what Arkham and the others were saying. It was impossible to go too long without his mind drifting back to what was happening under the desk. Your sweet mouth opening as wide as you could make it to allow him to slide effortlessly to the back of your tongue. Your fingers, gentle and delicate as you cupped his balls, squeezing softly as you continued to suck his cock against his squirming.

“Edward, are you quite alright? I don’t expect much from you all, given that I am the superior Riddler here, but I would at least hope that your feeble mind could pay attention for more than thirty seconds at a time.”

Swallowing his nerves, and trying to suppress his desperate arousal that was building in his chest, Edward stuttered over his words.

“I’m… I’m here- I mean, I’m fine… I mean, it’s ok. I’m paying attention. Sorry. Sorry.”

“Are you sure, it appears that you have something else on your mind.”

“No, I assure you I’m f-HUH-ine… ahem…”

Feigning a cough, Eddie tried to cover the pitch-shifting in his voice. He was bad at deflecting though, and the more he tried to encourage everyone to move on, the more they seemed to be focused on him. Especially when the more sympathetic of his fellow Riddlers were keen to make sure he was ok before continuing their master plan discussions.

“Eddie, are you sure you’re ok? You look awful sweaty…”

Gotham was stretching in his seat, straining to get closer to the camera. Dano’s face curled into one of worry and concern as he chimed in.

“And your face is flushed. Are you hot? You might be coming down with something. You could turn your camera off if you’re feeling uncomfortable being on with us all when you’re-”

“NO! This is far too important for anyone to be given an excuse to stop listening.”

Arkham was furious at the suggestion, his screen shaking briefly as he slammed his fist down onto the table he sat at.

“No muting. No turning the cameras off. Every single one of you needs to be held accountable and be paying attention completely. I won’t let any single one of you fall behind and cause this plan to crumble apart. Not when my name is so clearly attached to it.”

Holding in a mischievous giggle, you hollowed your cheeks, slurping louder than you meant to, aware that there was every chance it was heard over the microphone. But no one said anything, and Eddie covered it with another cough.

As you let the teeth on your lower jaw graze along the underside of his length, you could feel him tensing, breath hitching at the slight tingling of pain you knew he enjoyed far more than he could admit to. Quick to try and prevent any further embarrassment, or reason for the others to suspect that something untoward may be happening, Eddie clamped his hands over his mouth. Though he realised this in itself was perhaps a strange movement, so putting his less than admirable acting skills to practice, he let out a dramatic and very obviously fake yawn.

A few of the faces on the screen looked on in confusion, some with concern. Arkham, of course, glared down the lens in oblivious rage. Concerningly, to Eddie, both Zero Year and Unburied wore a slight, knowing smirk. He tried to convince himself that there was no way they could know, to keep himself calm. But it was so obvious, their expressions so telling. They might not know exactly what was happening, but they had an inkling that all was not well on Eddie’s side of the camera. Or all was perhaps a little too well.

You laid off a little, letting your hands stroke him softly and slowly to offer some reprieve when you heard Arkham barking over the speakers.

“Are you completely incompetent? I find it hard to believe that you share anything in common with even these idiots, let alone with me! But, since you’re so insistent on being the focus of the attention, perhaps you would like to inform us of your progress with your part of the plan.”

“I… uh…”

Eddie stammered nervously, fully aware of your mischievous nature and knowing this might be the thing that pushed him over the edge. How much could he conceal if he was the only one talking? The focus of every pair of eyes on the call? Not much, he imagined.

“Did you forget, Edward, that we were all going to present our own progress today? Was it too taxing for you to do the work and remember? Next time, I will take that on board. I will remember how little you are capable of taking on.”

Eddie let out a brief sigh of relief, which choked in his throat with a squeal as you ran your thumb over the flushed, reddening head of his cock.

“But! Due to the nature of today’s call, the sheer importance, and the fact that you have already disappointed me and disrupted the flow, I will insist that you please, present your no doubt lacklustre and pointless information to us immediately.”

With his stomach lurching, Eddie tried to gaze down at you, meeting your eyes as you peered up at him just below the table’s edge. You wore a grin that told him you weren’t going to make this easy. And it was already difficult. He could feel himself throbbing, his palms sweating, as he watched your hands caressing his length, your eyes staring, unblinking, directly into his.

When he realised that you had been commanding his attention long enough for it to be questionable to the others as to why he had been staring at his lap for so long, he managed to pull himself away from the view. With an awkward smile and a strangled laugh, he cleared his throat and pulled up his notes.

“Well, as you all know, it’s been a long and difficult process to get us all together and able to work on this. I have been trying my hardest to make sure that ah-ha-AH-ah-ah-I’ve-ah… choo?”

Arkham furrowed his brow as Eddie failed miserably to cover his heightened moaning with a pathetic attempt at a fake sneeze, ready to begin yet another rant aimed at Eddie’s assumed idiocy, but not before Zero Year chimed in.

“What’s wrong with you, Eddie? Got something on your mind?”

Zero Year recognised the facial expressions, the sounds. How could he not? He spent his days browsing lazily, one hand on his mouse or holding his phone, the other wrapped around his stubby cock as he gazed at the sordid imagery on various porn sites. He was well aware of what was happening, even if he couldn’t believe it.

At first, he had assumed that Eddie was masturbating during the meeting, that he’d gone a little bit insane and felt it was worth the risk. But, and despite his complete disbelief in this, he’d settled on the idea that there was someone else with Eddie, someone hidden below the screen, or below the desk, and they were the one behind his growing arousal and imminent climax. Of course, Zero Year was infuriated by this, his jealousy fuelling his decision to make matters far worse for Eddie as he sat, writhing and tensing on the other side of the screen, trying to hold himself together.

Unburied had similarly come to the conclusion that Eddie’s odd behaviour was at the hands, quite literally, of someone else who was currently providing a very well-received service to him, either as a tease or as part of an experiment in exhibitionism. Although, he doubted that Eddie was that adventurous, which was a correct assumption. Your shy, nervous, sweet Eddie was too much of a rule follower to allow himself the pleasure of being this risky. You, on the other hand, were far more willing to be a bit naughty, and you were happy to drag Eddie kicking and screaming along for the ride.

As the sweat began to fall from Eddie’s forehead to his brows, his upper-lip now coated in the sheen also, Unburied and Zero Year let loose a barrage of false concern for him. All eyes were focused on him now, with Arkham staring furiously, his face getting redder and his voice getting louder behind the persistent questioning and mocking jeers of the others. He had picked up on the suggestions, and was nearing nuclear levels of rage at Eddie, who was beginning to feel himself coming undone under the pressure and the weight of your tongue and lips against his desperate cock.

You could almost taste his release, feel each miniscule twitch of the veins around his length against your tongue as Eddie bit his lip, wailing out loud, trying to cover his sounds of growing pain and pleasure with stammered words he never quite managed to complete.

“I… I ha-ha… have… I have to… I have to g-go…”

“Don’t you dare hang up this call, Edward. I will see to it that you never join us for another plan. You’ll be an embarrassment to the moniker, The Riddler and I’ll ensure that everyone knows it.”

“Yeah, c’mon Eddie. Whatever it is, just let it out. We’re all friends here.”

The cruelly curled smirk on Zero Year’s lips still wasn’t enough to hold Eddie’s orgasm back. He could feel it rising, cock moist and warm in your mouth, ready to release his seed in an explosive and embarrassing show.

“I have to! I can’t!”

Eddie reached his hands up to the table, clearly taking the risk that Arkham’s threats were empty, intent on hanging up on the call anyway before he made a mess of himself, and your face, on camera. But you were quick to intercept, your fingers tight around his wrists as you held his hands below the chair. He didn’t have the strength to fight you, his hole body was trembling. This was exciting. A complete turn on. At your mercy, embarrassed in front of his peers, yes. But also, displaying a sense of dominance before them. What one of them could say they had someone on their knees in front of them, making sure their cock was wet and empty while they worked diligently on their plans.

The thought alone was enough to push him over the edge and he let forth a shrill squeal than fell to a guttural growl as he came. You moaned, muffled, in surprise as you tried to swallow his load, but it was powerful, plentiful, and you could feel it dripping down over your lips and down your chin as it kept coming.

Though you couldn’t see it, you could accurately picture the result of Eddie’s orgasm. His own face, slick with sweat, a half-smile with heavy lidded eyes as he tried to catch his breath. The others, unsure of whether to look away so as not to see, or to pretend like nothing had happened.

And Arkham, who was staring directly down the lens, teeth bared in a snarl. Part jealousy, part disbelief, part genuine fury that there was a Riddler out there who was willing to give in to such human urges during the most important part of their work together so far.

Wiping your face with your sleeve, you placed kisses along Eddie’s thighs and shuffled out from under the desk, making sure you weren’t visible on camera. It would be better to leave it as an uncertainty, a mystery. At least until next time. You might be kind enough to introduce yourself then.

#finnie writes #riddler #the riddler #riddler imagine #the riddler imagine #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x reader #riddler x you #young justice riddler #young justice!riddler

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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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ladyelissarose · 2 years

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That should’ve been the plot.

#bruce wayne fanart #bruce wayne #the batman 2022 #robert pattinson #the batman #battinson #batman #bruce wayne imagine #batman comics #riddler 2022 #riddler imagine #battinson fanfiction #lol

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cinebration · 1 year

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Jealous Riddler (Riddler x Reader, Ed Nygma x Reader) [Request]

You said Gotham, right? What about an one shot with Ed (the Riddler)? Maybe Riddler fell in love with a girl first (cause it's always Ed), so he's always trying to get control to go talk with her. And for the first time he got jealous of Ed when she mets him, cause she finds him adorable 🥰 You're totally free to say no, but I really would like to read this 👉🏻👈🏻🤭—Requested by anon

I’m so sorry this request got buried! It’s like…two years old. Agh! But this was a lot of fun and it made me miss Gotham HARD.

Warnings: none

Gif Source: shokihomin

Ed’s head was so far stuck up his own ass that he didn’t notice you lurking in corners. That’s always what it looked like to Riddler as he rode bitch in Ed’s brain, stealing glimpses of you in the peripherals of Ed’s pathetic tunnel vision. Even after he ended Kristen and had nothing to be distracted by but his own misery, Ed couldn’t be bothered to see you.

No matter how hard Riddler fought to take control, he never seemed capable of it whenever you were around. It drove him insane, sitting around in Ed’s head without being able to scream out your name and say, “Hello! This fool can’t find a needle in a sewing kit, but I see you! And I very much want to get to know you better.”

Whenever Ed, the lovesick loser, invariably fell head over heels with some woman who hardly knew he existed, he could never pinpoint precisely what quality or action had made him trip in the first place. In Riddler’s opinion, that was because Ed was so desperate he went tumbling skull over ass after any girl who made eye contact. The behavior was revolting, all the more so because Riddler was stuck watching it happen over and over again.

Riddler, however, knew the exact moment he felt attraction switch into love with you. In the murky peripherals he so desperately stared out of while Ed focused on everything unimportant, he witnessed you nonchalantly steal Desk Sergeant Murphy’s sandwich—the whole kit and caboodle, complete with napkins, pickle, and chips—and deposit it all on O’Reilly’s desk, all without breaking stride. It wasn’t until Murphy discovered the sandwich on O’Reilly’s desk, resulting in a brawl that disrupted the whole precinct and had the inmates in lockup howling, that Riddler decided it was imperative that he meet you.

Two weeks later, he managed to wrest control from his weaker self and immediately made it his first priority to find you. Much like Kristen, you were stuck in a back room with one grimy window and overhead lighting sure to deteriorate your eyesight. Two overhead fans spun in lazy circles, pushing about the humid air but offering no relief.

Glancing up as he approached, you offered a wary smile. “May I help you?”

The question almost stymied him. With a start, Riddler realized he hadn’t decided on what to say or how to approach you. Now that he was physically in the room with you, in control of everything, he found himself hopelessly lacking it where it mattered.

“Hello,” he greeted, flashing his pearly whites at you. Thrusting out a hand, he introduced himself, “I’m Edward Nygma.”

You glanced from his hand to his lab coat and back again, hesitating. “You don’t work with the bodies, do you?”

“Oh, I assure you, my hands are quite clean.”

Skeptical, you shook his hand quickly and repeated, “May I help you?”

Riddler checked to make sure the door was shut before he said, a smile curving his lips, “I saw what you did two weeks back.”

“What did I do?”

You liked to play. His smile widened. “You caused that riot.”

Leaning back in your seat, you folded your arms over your chest, raking your gaze over him. The thrill of finally being seen nearly made him shout in triumph. “I don’t think I know what you mean.”

“You know, at first I thought it was random,” he continued, striding around the corner of your desk and sitting on its edge, forcing you to look up at him, “but the statistical probability of you choosing the right lunch to steal and placing it on the right desk is incredibly low for just random chance.”

Your face remained impassive.

Undeterred, Riddler forged ahead. “Then I recalled overhearing James and Loughlin the day before discussing the tension between Murphy and O’Reilly. It seems the latter had his hand caught in the cookie jar, if you know what I mean.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer. “He’s getting to know Murphy’s wife in the biblical sense. The sandwich was the last straw.” He laughed. “I have to say, superbly done, and with such subtlety! I prefer more theatricality, but the resulting chaos more than made up for the quiet setup.”

Your gaze shifted past him, checking the door, before returning to him. Preening, Riddler all but physically shook on the edge of the desk as he waited for your response.

“It was very gratifying, wasn’t it?” you asked, a wicked smile baring your teeth.

Fire burned hot in Riddler’s chest. “Please tell me you’ve done other things like it and I just haven’t borne witness.”

“Nothing with such fantastic results, but I have plans.”

“I love a woman who plans.”

You arched an eyebrow, your smile sharpening. “Care to make some together?”

It became easier to steal control from Ed and sneak off to join you. At first, all rendezvous occurred in your office, the place being a neutral zone you weren’t yet comfortable leaving. Though impatient, Riddler tolerated your reticence to extend your partnership outside the precinct, biding his time to finally ask you out to dinner rather than merely sharing lunch. Ed would have offered to make dinner, but Riddler had no intention of hiding you from the world when all he wanted to do was shout from the rooftops that he had found a woman worthy of his attention.

In the meantime, you both plotted little schemes to implement around the precinct, trying to create the most unobtrusive plan with the biggest results. It became a game, stretching both your abilities for execution. For Riddler, it required toning down the theatricality and sensationalism; for you, the intended extent of damage.

The precinct cracked down hard on loitering youth, blaming them for the sudden surge in pranks.

Riddler finally worked up the nerve to ask you to dinner, brimming with nervous energy that had him buzzing. He strode into your office, your name rolling off his tongue in a sing-song inflection.

Then he was Ed. No, he was shoved into the back, Ed emerging in his place.

NO!

Riddler watched in horror as Ed glanced around the room, trying to orient himself, a deep frown scoring his forehead.

“Hiya, Edward,” you greeted, flashing that wicked grin that made Riddler want to kiss you breathless.

“Hi,” Ed answered back, hesitating. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember why I came in here.”

Frowning, you rose from your rolling chair. “We had plans.”

“Oh. Did we?”

Riddler shoved against Ed’s control, screaming with rage as he failed to budge him.

“Edward…”

“Um, you can just call me Ed.”

Confusion clouded your face. Riddler bellowed obscenities, dread striking him cold as he watched you withdraw, your expression pensive.

You OAF! His shouts went unheard in Ed’s skull.

“I just realized I don’t remember your name,” Ed apologized. “I’m so sorry about that.”

Eyebrow arching, you repeated it, scrutinized his reaction.

Ed glanced around the room, eyes narrowing as he placed his location within the building. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in the Crime Analyst’s room.”

“Sure you have, probably more than you can remember,” you quipped.

Riddler froze, his attention fixated on you. The corner of your mouth tipped up into a sly smirk.

“Really?” Ed thought it over. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You’re…different than what I was expecting. Or maybe not at all, now that I think about it.”

“I’m not following.”

You stepped into Ed’s space, startling him. No one ever violated his space, only the other way around.

You peered up into his face. “Even your eyes are different somehow.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Snorting, you said, “It’s kinda adorable, actually.”

“Uh…what is?”

You pointed a finger at him, drawing a vague outline around him. “This whole shtick.”

Riddler seized within Ed. Adorable!? He’s adorable!?

“O…kay, you know what? I think I’m needed back in the exam room. This was very…weird.”

With that, Ed scuttled out of the room, taking with him an irate Riddler.

Behind him, your laughter echoed.

When Riddler finally wrestled control back, he dragged Ed’s body out of bed at one in the morning, threw on whatever he could find, and stomped off to confront you. He had hacked into HR’s records to find your home address, so he knew where you lived.

Pounding on the front door, he stormed around the small patio, pausing only to slam his fist harder against the wood. He had just decided to break out his lock picks when the door opened and you peered blearily at him through the screen.

“Edward?”

“The one and only,” he declared, baring his teeth. “Open up, will you?”

To his surprise, you didn’t hesitate. Opening the door, you stepped aside in time to avoid him barreling through you.

He didn’t have the poise to wait until the door shut fully behind you.

“You think Ed is adorable? That directionless oaf!?”

Chest heaving, Riddler stood waiting for your response, prepared to shiv you with words, if not a real knife, assuming it was necessary.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you answered, “Yeah.”

He blinked. “Really!?”

“Like a hapless puppy.”

“More like a sniveling worm,” he sneered.

“He’s like everyone says.” You met his gaze pointedly. “And you’re not.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that when you walked into my office and sat on my desk, I was expecting him, not you. He’s the one everyone talks about.”

Jealousy abating, Riddler scrutinized you, an insidious thought pushing through his confusion. “You knew the whole time?”

“No, I just thought everybody else was too stupid to appreciate you. It wasn’t until I actually met him today that it made sense.”

“Oh.” He tried to avoid focusing on the embedded compliment in your words. “But adorable, really?”

“You are too eloquent to keep repeating the same question. Yes, I thought he was adorable. Does that mean I prefer him to you?”

Riddler froze as you hesitated, his stomach an icy ball.

“Of course not!”

Relief coursed through him.

“You’re more my speed,” you said, stepping into his space and running a finger up his shirt. “You shouldn’t doubt that.”

Your finger left a trail of fire in its wake. He stared down at it. “I have no reason to believe you.”

Hooking your finger through one of the gaps between buttons, you gently tugged on it, pulling him down to meet you. “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

Riddler would never thank Ed for making him jealous, but for a moment he thought about it as he tasted your mouth for the first time.

#Riddler x Reader #Riddler #Riddler imagine #Ed Nygma x Reader #Ed Nygma #Ed Nygma imagine #Cory Michael Smith x Reader #Cory Michael Smith #Cory Michael Smith imagine #Gotham #requests

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 9 months

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Gotham Masterlist

Imagines + Mini Fic

Imagine being caught in a standoff alongside Edward and Oswald

Imagine bumping into Edward Nygma while working a case at Arkham Asylum

Imagine Oswald confessing a crime to you, his only friend in the GCPD

Imagine Oswald arriving in time to help you

Imagine your complicated friendship with Oswald coming in use

Imagine teaching Bruce a hard truth about the world

(Return to the Easy Navigate Masterlist)

#theladyofmanyfandoms masterlist #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #theladyofmanyfandoms #gotham x reader #gotham imagine #oswald cobblepot x reader #oswald cobblepot imagine #edward nygma x reader #edward nygma imagine #riddler imagine #riddler x reader #penguin x reader #penguin imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine

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ghostdoodlen · 1 year

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What if you had a cuteness aggression?

And Edward Nashton is the cutest man to ever exist.

Whenever you see Eddie, you're overcome with the urge to show affection and just end up maybe rubbing and squeezing him while playing planting kisses everywhere. Squealing words of admiration using a soft and/or baby voice.

He walks into a room? You just run into his arms and chomp his face but without any force behind it.

I'd like to think he'd enjoy the attention because he'd have a similar yet more gentle way. He'd totally understand your bursts of affection as Eddie does the same.

#the riddler x you #the riddler x reader #dano riddler #riddler x you #the riddler #riddler imagine #12am thoughts #danonation #dano!riddler #edward nashton x you #eddie is the cutest man alive #i will fight anyone on this #needed to get that out of my system #edward nashton x reader

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creepling · 2 years

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> riddler x arkham staff!reader drabble

ok so imagine you worked at arkham but you were a housekeeper. your job is to clean the cells so you're use to cleaning cells that look like crime scenes (blood, faeces smeared on the walls, broken furniture, etc) but the riddler's cell always impressed you. his cell was always clean and pristine as if no one stepped foot in it. it made your job easier so you liked not having to scrub another horrid cell.

little did you know edward was bent double trying to keep it clean. he became infatuated with you when he was sent to arkham, seeing you through his tiny cell window cleaning the cells across the hall. he so badly wanted to impress you and became infuriated when he seen you work tirelessly. he began keeping his cell tidy, making his bed every morning, screaming incoheriantly if he noticed a stain; spitting on it and scrubbing it away until his hands were red raw. in his head, if he kept his cell clean, you would fall in love with him. and since he's locked up with his delussional thoughts, left to fantasise about being with you; he believed that that would happen.

one day he had an elaborate plan. by this point, with the logical brain that he has, figured out how to sneak around the prison without being noticed. he would do this scarsely and only when necassary. he so badly wanted to see you, talk to you, admit his feelings for you.

you go into his cell to give it a light clean, and there he is, hiding behind the door. you go to scream but he lunges at you and covers your mouth with his hand. with his other hand, he presses his finger to his lips, gesturing you to be quiet. your eyes are wide with fear. you're stuck in here with a terrorist, you know he's killed people. in that moment, you assume you're dead.

but edward is gentle, he gives you an awkward smile and asks you "you promise me you'll be quiet?". you take this as a threat and nod your head. he removes his hand from your mouth, his drifting eyes glancing at your lips. he can't believe that you're stood in front of him. he feels his body overwhelmingly swell. god, he could swimper at the sight of you. he doesn't know if he should be hurt or turned on by the fear in your eyes.

edward grins from ear to ear, an endearment you find terrifying. but to the riddler, it's love at first sight.

"now's the perfect time for us to finally get to know each other"

#riddler x reader #riddler imagine #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton fanfic #paul dano #the batman 2022 #danonation #idk what this is i had to get it out there #if you'd want a longer fic with this context eheheh lemmie know

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tawneybel · 16 days

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Imagine Oswald continuing to reject Ed’s request to teach him how to become a better killer, but accepting his host’s proposition to have a three-way with you.

“Wait,” you interrupted, hooking a thumb at bound Leonard, “with him watching?”

“______,” the Riddler gently explained, “he has a bag over his head. How can he watch us?”

“Though he is going to hear our moans,” interjected the Penguin.

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madwomansapologist · 1 year

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fan behavior | Edward Nigma

Masterlist | Taglist | Library | More Edward Nigma | AO3

synopsis: When the Riddler send you a letter, you thought that the day of your death was near. How could you be so wrong about someone?

warnings: Arkham. he is kinda of obssessed. its fluff. convos about murder, death and violence. i swear its fluff. you will understand this later: i love poems and you can do nothing about it.

People believe that to live in Gotham is to live with fear. You once was like that. Thinking about every possibility. It was like drowning in a shallow lake. All that panic, and for nothing. Every person you did suspect, every siuation you did overthink, every sound that scared you: you were waiting for danger, prepared for it, but it never came.

Everyone shall die, all those news channels make sure that no one could forget that, but you don't know how it will happen. When. You may die because Joker didn't like your face, but you also could die because your heart couldn't take it any longer. Or you could die when you're so old that people won't even say that it was unfair, but that you needed to rest.

You were sick of living with fear. Sick of not living because of fear. Of making yourself smaller, quieter, to fit into spaces that you don't want to fit in. So you changed. You decided to be honest with your soul, and to respect that deal. You decided to live.

So you wrote a book. Not your first, not even close, but the first that wasn't fiction. A non-fiction novel about how a violent and corrupted city could kill the soul of their citizens. You told the stories that mainstream media was affraid to. About students, widowers, orphans, homeless, survivors. The stories about fear, and grief, and trauma, and hope. About dreams and nightmares. About finding your strength and losing it. About deciding life wasn't worth or finding out that it was.

And it was a best-seller. Awarded. It was... Damn. You had a good career, writing mostly romances and a little bit of fantasy, but not that good. Money, interviews, awards. You had authors you idolize saying things like "brutally frank", "a milestone of her maturity as a story teller", "disciple of Truman Capote".

It was your peak. It really was. It was everything you ever dreamed about it. You didn't need a parallel job anymore, you could just write. If it was the end of your story it would be perfect. But you didn't want it to be the end. So you tried to find a new ideia. Something that could comunicate with your soul. Something you really wanted to write.

Coming back home after a meeting with your editor and your agent, the train stopped in between stations and you made home just late a night. Gotham, right? You were scheduled to give another interview. Its a big channel, so they were preparing you for some questions that could be made.

In front of your door step you found something different. Something interesting. Its been long gone the time were writers received letters. Now, its emails. But it happened for you to receive letters at your home or at your company some few times, maybe less then five. But now you weren't facing just a letter. It was a really big emerald box, with a scarlet envelope adressed to you.

You were so naive to though it would be just a gift. You really did think it could be something from the TV show you gonna be interviewed. So, without thinking twice about it, you held the heavy box and entered your home with a bright smile.

You couldn't imagine that, but people would make sure he knew you had smiled.

First things first: you put everything on your table and prepared a hot bath. You needed that bath. That moment of relaxation. Everyone deserves that after dealing with Gotham. Smelling like roses, you wrapped yourself in a towel and went to find something to eat. You could hear your grandma screaming at you for opening the refrigerator wearing just a towel, but you were starving.

Devouring a piece of your favorite cake, you remembered about the box on your table. You took the scarlet envelope. Using a knife, you opened it.

My dearest writer,

When I overflow with words I don't have

When the candle that heat my heart starts to erase

And I ask myself in which mirror did my face get lost

I discover that lost in your words the summer is eternal

You are my North, my South, my East and my West

And because of you my madness is divinest sense

Your smile was so big. It was... so sweet. So considerate. No other channel had done something so lovely for you. This is not just a poem. With just one look you can see that those verses are references to books and poems you loved. They even saw your interviews talking about your inspirations!

The first line was a Faulkner reference. The second: Tolstoi and his wonderful Ana Karenina. Then a little bit of brazillian literature with Cecília Meireles on the third line. A clear reference to Shakespeare on the fourth. The next was a snippet of your favourite poem: Funeral Blues. And the last one, you had to think about before coming to a conclusion, was Emily Dickinson.

Smiling like a teenager, you go after the box. It was so heavy, you keep wondering what is inside it. Carefully, you put the envelope on your table and opened the emerald box. And it was... a vault. A black one, with digits to put a password. It was like in the movies, but the difference is that the keyboard has letters on it.

Looking at the open flap of the box, you noticed a yellow post-it.

First things first. It can't be that difficult, can it?

Laughting to yourself you agreed with a head movement, even tho no one was there to look at you. Of course you didn't know that a camera was recording it on the other side of the street, so that wasn't a lie. Just a silly little mistake.

First things first.

You wrote William Faulkner on the keyboard and hoped it would work. With a little click, the vault opened. And inside of it, you found another vault. Smaller this time. You quickly realized what you need do to. So you keep writing the name of the next writer, getting an even smaller vault, until the very last line of the poem dedicated to you.

When the name of Emily Dickinson was wrote, you didn't knew what to expect. Another click, the vault was now open, and inside it you found... another envelope? This was as emerald as the box. You took the letter inside it.

Arkham Asylum, Intensive Treatment Center, Cell 140D. Tomorrow.

And as easy as it came, your smile faded away. You should've know better. A emerald package. How did you not look at it and immediately notice it was made by the Riddler. "Oh, fuck."

What have you done? Did you say something about him during a interview? No. No, you didn't. What could make you a target? What you did wrong? What will he do with you?

You analyzed every vault. You must had missed something. Shouldn't his riddlers have a punishment for those who don't know the asnwers? But they were just vaults. You took his letters, looking for any subtle threat that you didn't notice before.

Why the first envelope was red? It didn't make sense. His color is green. Everything is green when it comes about him. But reading the letters again... they sound affectionate. Even now knowing that he was the one that made it, it don't seen like a threat.

He called you his dearest writer. The first few verses formed the image of someone who is not in a great moment in live. Someone that is losing hope, who can't recognize himself, who can't even put it into words. And then, this person find peace. Someone whos summer is eternal. His personal compass. Someone who made his madness seen divinest.

If he wanted to threatened you, shouldn't he write about bad things? Or even just put a bomb inside one of the vaults. And why he want to see you? But deep inside you knew that he was the only one that could asnwer those questions. The only question you should be worrying about was: will you go?

And could just stay at home. You could have purchased a one-way ticked to Metropolis. You could have run to Commissioner Gordon and beged him to call Batman. You could have done a lot of things.

But fear and curiosity would eat you whole.

You never been in Arkham before. You saw it on television, but this was way different than you could've imagined. Outside, it seen like a hauting mansion. If a ghost came from it, you wouldn't have blink an eye. But inside it... it was even worse.

Not hanted: it was inhuman. Lifeless. No one could live in a place so dark, and visceral, and threatning. You heard laughs when the guards took you to the maximum security area. You don't think someone could experience something worth a laugh on a place like this.

"Don't touch him." One of the guards told you before opening the last door. "Don't give him anything. You can get out of there anytime you want. Scream if you need help."

Glaring at the last thing between you and he, you breath in and nodded. When you entered the room, you took a few second to get used to the light. It was a white room, with a tiny white bed, white sheets and white chairs. You would go crazy with you had to stay a day there.

And chained to his bed, Riddler admired every move you made. Almost embarrased by his powerful presence, you made your way to the white chair. You couldn't do this while standing. It was weird to see him without a mask. It felt wrong. But you couldn't help but to analyze every single feature of his face. Riddler look like a normal guy. Like someone you could see at the bus stop.

"Here you are." His voice alone gave you goosebumps. "I started to think you wouldn't come over."

The sunset was a few hours ago. You recorded the interview, but all the time you were thinking about what would happen when you were in front of him. "You invited me."

"Invited?" Riddler smiled. He rubbed his tights, it was like he would start laughing just like the crazy guy you heard on the corridor. "Yes, I did. My manners: welcome to my temporary house."

"Temporary?" The smartest thing you could do was to act nice. Maybe he would put you on his good side and decided not to do anything with you. His others victims didn't have a chance to talk to him before they were murdered. But if he wants to kill, he will. Nothing you could do would change that. This probably is just a game to him. So he better be prepared because you ain't going to be scared. Never again. "You killed the major. This is your forever-home."

"That was mean," his smile didn't fade away, it just got bigger. Even his voice changed. It was almost a purr. He liked the way you talked to him? It appears like he did. "Are you scared of me? Thats why you think that I should be there until the day I die?"

"I am not scared of you. I am angry." You crossed your arms. "Why am I here? And don't say that I am here because I was invited. Why you want me here?"

Riddler was in silence for a few minutes. Not smiling anymore, he didn't even look at you. "30 seconds."

"What?"

"Thats what took you to solve my riddle." He told you. "You were smiling the whole time. Glowing. You were glowing the whole time. I could see in your eyes: the moment you read the poem you knew what it really means. Did you have fun?"

"I... did." What was going on? Why was he acting sad? "You saw me?"

"You getting home, so stressed and tired, and your smile when you found my gift. You hold it so gently. You solving it so easily, drops of water running down your body... It was a divine vision. Are you a god, by the way?"

You could felt your cheeks burning. You were only using a towel and he was seeing you. No. Not him. He is there, right in front of you, so it must have beeing one of his fans. They recorded you to show to him?

"Are you really angry with me?" He pout. "You had fun, didn't you?"

"You threatened me." Now you were uncertain of that. "You demanded me to see you today. You were spying on me."

"Threatened you? I could never do that!" He really sounded offended. "It was a gift. I spend so much time making something you would love. I watched all your interviews. Read all your favourite books. I even know your favourite color is scarlet. The color of passion. It was gift. And a invitation. And I wasn't spying on you. I was just seeing your reaction."

Now you couldn't put any words together. What does that... What does that even mean? "You won't kill me?"

"No!" Riddler punch his bed. "Oh... the things they say about writers is true. They won't understand you love them even after a love letter."

"What?" You gasped. "Love letter?"

"My dearest writer. When I overflow with words I don't have. When the candle that heat my heart starts to erase. And I ask myself in which mirror did my face get lost. I discover that lost in your words the summer is eternal. You are my North, my South, my East and my West. And because of you my madness is divinest sense."

So... you were right about it. There were nothing threatening about the letter. It all sounded so romantic when he chanted. So pure. "You... love me?"

"Most ardently."

"Jane Austen." You recognized without missing a bet. "Its another riddle?"

"No." Suddenly, he was standing. He wasn't chained anymore, they all fall to the floor. Riddler smiled. "It is a confession."

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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imagine--if · 2 years

Note

soft!yandere riddler and touch starved reader plsss 😩🖤 maybe he's smothering her with affection and eddie's cooing at her shyness and finds it adorable as she's blushy and enjoying it thank you omgggg

A/N: You're welcomeee what the hell I squealed multiple times while writing this 😍 Dm or comment anywhere if you wanna be added to my taglist! 😄

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

Warnings: Fluff, suggestiveness, obsessive soft yandere Eddie 💚

Words: 566

You're so tense, Edward can feel it, as his arms encase your body and press you impossibly close to him. His green eyes drift up briefly to glance at your expression in the wall mirror opposite you both, but you aren't uncomfortable, you aren't annoyed. He smiles against the skin of your neck and chuckles softly to himself after catching sight of the pink blush dusting your cheeks, your eyes wide and lips firmly shut. You don't know what to do with your hands, and so his fingers slip between yours, guiding them to clutch his arms while he delves in needily to kiss the crook of your neck.

A staggered breath leaves you and you squeeze your eyes shut, the warm, perfect sensation washing over you, but you don't know what to do with it, how to return it. The sloppy kisses stop for a moment, and Edward looks up from your neck, resting his cheek against yours as he cradles you from behind and whispers in your ear.

"Open your eyes, my love, I want to see them. Don't hide from me, you're doing beautifully... relax, angel..."

And so you give in to his words, your eyes fluttering open as you let yourself lean back into Eddie. He smiles happily, kissing your cheek in satisfaction as his arms tighten around your middle, his head going back to your neck as he continues biting and licking in between kisses. You look up at the ceiling breathlessly, your fingers absentmindedly stroking the skin of Edward's arms, and he hums contentedly at the action, stopping his kisses to nuzzle into your air and take a deep breath in. You watch the mirror as he breathes out with a dopey smile on his face, almost as if he's high, and meets your gaze in the glass.

"You like this, don't you?" He mumbles into your ear with an adoring smile, warm breaths fanning against the side of your face. You nod with a small, shy smile, and Edward smiles back in a daze. "Tell me, darling. Tell me you like it."

"I- I like it," you say quietly, flushed by the intimacy of the whole scene, and Eddie listens hopefully, staring at you in the mirror. "I really like it. I really like you too, Eddie."

Edward grins, excited giggles escaping him as he rocks your body against his.

"Well, I love you to death," he states unashamedly, and your breath catches in your throat. "You need to remember that, sweetheart, okay? Always..."

And then he's back to littering your skin with passionate kisses, slowly making his way up to your face before turning you to him properly. Edward eagerly presses his lips on yours, a bit more experienced now you've been doing this for a little while, dragging you onto his lap with a desperate whine. You melt into his embrace as easily as he does into you, and your fingers move from his arms to card through his hair, sending a shiver down Edward's spine as he deepens the kiss, only parting for air when you do. He slumps against your body with a pleased whimper, and you smile at him, hesitantly rubbing his back affectionately and resting your cheek against his head.

"Good girl," he praises you gently, nuzzling into your touch. "That's it, sweet baby, don't be shy... you keep doing whatever you like."

Taglist:

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

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finniestoncrane · 5 months

Note

i’m in the trenches for gotham eddie. he’s such a nerd and i love it 😔 i need him getting worked up over kisses or seeing u with his glasses on, if you wouldn’t mind writing about it <3 🤲

Do They Suit Me?

Gotham!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 1k mhmmmmm yep this is my weakness and i am about to hit you with the sappiest, cheesiest, romcom-iest, plot-adjacent bit of fluff u-u 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: flirting, lil bit of some prem. ejac, shy!eddie

Once your colleague, Eddie, had left the small office you both shared in the GCPD building, you stared at the door for a few seconds longer, noting the distinct blur. The distance wasn't too far, and yet the lack fo detail you were able to make out on the notice by the door frame was enough to tell you that Eddie was perhaps right, as he always was. Your eyesight was deteriorating. So you muttered to yourself in false annoyance, smiling as you whispered the words.

"Typical, Mr. Nygma. You're always have the right answer. Even when you haven't been asked the question."

Although, you giggled as you realised, it's not as though his predisposition to being correct offers him any confidence, a musing supported by how quickly he had just left the room. His cheeks were already blushing, his fingers fumbling to take off his own glasses as he began to sweat, before he finished his thought, uttering out loud what he likely had meant to exclaim to himself in silence. That you would look very good in glasses.

Maybe you would. He was right about everything else. Looking over to where he had placed his own clubmaster style frames down, you reached for them, carefully, slowly, quietly putting them on to see if they changed your vision, or indeed, if they suited you.

As you searched around the room for a reflective surface to check the style against your face, you did realise that Eddie's vision wasn't comparable to your own, and it was difficult making out anything with the frames on. And this particular disadvantage, and the distraction of your search, meant you missed it when he had stepped back into the room until he was speaking.

"Sorry, I forgot my- oh... oh my..."

He swallowed the lump of nerves that collected in his throat, Adam's apple bobbing behind the smooth, freshly shaven skin.

"Eddie! I am so sorry, I just wanted... to see... if it made it any easier to..."

"N-no, I'm sorry. Or... for not knocking. I sh-should have knocked. If... uh... if you want I can, uh... find a mirror, or?"

He stuttered over his words, unable to speak. For a moment you worried you had overstepped a boundary, setting off a comfort issue within him. But as you took note of his body language, there were several things that told another story. The sweat that had threatened to form when he complimented you earlier was now trickling down his temples. Following down his body, you noted his arms were straight and tense, stuck to his side. His fists clenched into tight balls, twitching as he tried to distract himself. And then, the most telling of all, the distinct tenting at the front of his brown pants, a bulge that held no secrets. You wondered if he had even noticed how visible it was.

"Hmm... no, actually. I don't need a mirror. Could you just tell me..."

With your fingers resting on the legs of the glasses, you pulled them down the bridge of your nose, looking over the tops at him and batting your eyelids.

"... do they suit me? How do I look, Eddie?"

As he stammered, his brain running through all the different words he could use, you pushed them back up again, slowly, as sultry as you could musternow that your own cheeks were threatening to go beet red, flattered by the kind of control you clearly had over him.

"They... they, uh... definitely look g-good... or better, even... I mean..."

You stood up and he whimpered, the threat of your body coming closer to him as you took a step out from behind the desk enough to silence him, to put him out of the misery of finding the right words to finish his sentence. Although, there were several short breaths that he choked on as you forced a wiggle onto your hips, relishing the way his eyes flitted up and down your body, then away from you entirely as he chastised himself for daring to take a glance.

"It's a shame, I thought maybe I'd be able to see clearly, but they're making things a bit blurry. Which means I can't see you properly, and you can't see me very well either, I guess."

Stopping in front of him, your body as close to his as possible without being pressed tight to him, you removed the frames and placed them back on his face, tucking his hair carefully behind his ear and tidying up the loose strands that fell to his forehead as his breath hitched and released in a breathy sigh.

"There, they definitely look much better on you, I think. Very handsome."

As your hand finished adjusting the legs behind his slightly protruding ears, you brought it round to his cheek where you rested it. Gazing into his eyes, you felt your own giddy heartbeat in your chest, could feel the heat of Eddie's gaze settle on your body in spite of himself. You let out a gentle exhale, a soft, almost imperceptible moan coming with it. And as the sound filled the room, you let your hand fall to his neck, tracing his collarbone and down his shirt, fingers settling on the end of his tie, which you tugged softly with a wink. Eddie responded with a sharp squeal, immediately stepping back from you and pursing his lips. Behind the lenses of his glasses, you could see slight panic on his face, and you followed his hands as they fell to the bottom of his grey labcoat, trying to pull it down to cover the slight wet patch that had begun to form on the front of his pants.

Before he could rush back out of the door, you caught his sleeve, holding his wrist.

"It's fine, Eddie. We can pretend that without your glasses, I didn't even notice that."

He nodded, a frown forming.

"Don't be embarrased, I'll take it as a compliment."

Your eyes flitted down to his crotch, the bulge still pressing towards the fabric of his pants.

"A huge compliment at that."

"Oh, goodness..."

Another gulp, another soft squeak as his knees began to buckle under him, and his hand tried to grab the wall, stabilising himself as you walked back to the desk with a wide, smug grin.

#finnie writes #riddler #the riddler #riddler imagine #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x reader #riddler x you #edward nygma #gotham #gotham riddler #gotham!riddler #gotham fox

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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Bestie- u didn’t just deliver u served and I’m the greedy gremlin who’s eating this up, that was amazing, he’s so skrunkly I love him 😔Ur gonna kill me here but bestie I need them to meet I can’t 😩

This is the effect of me doing sudokus and crosswords in the ethics lecture... Was listening to Jasmine Thompson's cover of 'Rather Be' while writing this and honestly?? A whole mood

Imagine the Riddler being your secret admirer. - Part 3

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 4] [Part 5]

That day felt weirdly long as if hours were stretching out as much as the universe would allow them to. You haven't felt that tired and fed up in quite a while, dreaming about the soft comfort of your own bed during your commute back home.

Home, however, had another surprise in store for you:

"Perfect timing, Eddie," you said to yourself as you tore the envelope off your front door. "Could use a little pick-me-up."

You opened the letter and couldn't help the surprise at the front of the card you were given. For some reason, it said "Invitation" in fancy, glittery writing. Inside, on the left side was another torn-out page from a poetry collection.

Underneath an apple-tree Sat a maiden and her lover; And the thoughts within her he Yearned, in silence, to discover.

Under the piece of a poem were written only two words: "Meet me". Your gaze followed the vague message to the right side of the card where a small map was drawn. It looked like a bird's view of a restaurant or a bar with a question mark drawn over one of the, as you had assumed, tables like the little map was the continuation of the unfinished sentence. On top of the drawing was scribbled an address, a date and an hour. You were supposed to meet him in a week's time.

From that moment on, you could hardly think about anything else and, little did you know, so did he. It was going to be a fateful Wednesday evening.

"That's the place," you whispered to yourself as you checked the GPS on your phone again.

You found yourself standing before a desolate diner that looked like it was taken straight out of Quentin Tarantino's movie. But you had to admit that the Pulp Fiction feel to the locale was charming in some way as if gracefully continuing your dilemma whether you were now the main character of a rom-com or a slash horror film.

"Here goes nothing," you said with a sigh. With each step towards the front door of the diner, your restlessness was only increasing.

The bell near the door chimed cheerfully as you hesitantly entered the building. At first, you couldn't see a soul inside - even the waitress was more of a cryptid as you could only hear her quiet chatter with the cooks coming from the kitchen. They left the door slightly ajar. According to the drawing, the marked table should be the one under the vintage-style graffiti with a pin-up girl holding a tray of apple pie. Your heart stopped for a moment, seeing that the booth was occupied.

Ever since he sat down in that booth, he'd been eyeing the door, waiting for the fateful moment you enter. The muffled laughter of the waitress rung in his ears and Eddie was half-convinced that she was laughing at him. After all, who was he to ever believe that you were actually going to show up? That you would be anything but disgusted with him?

He watched as you checked his little drawing once more. You turned your head towards him and Ed could swear the time actually slowed down if not entirely stopped when your gaze met his. The moment you realized that it was him, a bright smile appeared on your face, making Eddie's palms even sweatier than they already were. He just knew he was going to mess things up - there was no way in Hell that he could impress you. That much was obvious to Eddie.

You were just so... unreal to him. There he was: the loser, the loner, the butt of the joke and there were you, the epitome of grace approaching the table he was sitting at. He couldn't believe his own senses, some anxious beast still gnawing at his thoughts, that you didn't immediately turn around and left once you saw him.

"Hey," you said softly as you sat down across from him.

"H-hi," he nervously stuttered out.

Eddie looked more or less as you expected him to: a quiet, kind of awkward and easy-to-overlook guy who had no idea what he had gotten himself into. Your friends always found it very amusing that you had a thing for underdogs. No matter how strange it might sound to anyone else, you thought there was a certain charm to his awkwardness like an adorable deer caught in headlights.

"You have great taste." You waved the "invitation" card before putting it back into your purse.

"In what?" Eddie asked sheepishly. His mind was fluctuating between blankness and intrusive thoughts, so coherence and reason weren't something he could count on at the moment.

You shrugged. That bright, showstopping smile was still on your face and Eddie felt he wouldn't be able to look away from you even if he wanted to. "Poetry. Flowers," you counted. "Girls."

His chubby cheeks turned crimson red at your words. Your confidence made him even more aware of his incapacitating insecurity. Eddie believed his intrusive thoughts: there was nothing he could delight you with.

"I loved your riddles," you confessed. "You're really good at it."

A flutter of his heart and a ray of lovesick hope.

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devilfic · 1 year

Note

ok but Edward when he was still in the orphanage falling in love with a kid he constantly sees when he goes to church, like a childish and innocent love (I just want edward kid to receive a little affection) 😔

❝first snow❞

plot: life wasn’t all pain, there was you. there was you. pairing: child!edward nashton x child!gn!reader. cw: fluff, light angst, choir boy eddie, mentions of bullying, childhood trauma. words: 1.9k.

a/n: ever since I received this request I’ve just fawned over how sweet it is. here you go, anon

Edward is aware of how timid his voice sounds. It was a reflex, the wobbly authority of it, because he’d learned early on that he wasn’t much of an authority on anything except dodging the older kids’ punches. He could pretend he hadn’t said anything if you turned around and gave him that look he was so used to getting. Meant for squirmy vermin like him.

But you don’t snap at him or look at him like he’s used to. Your eyes are shock-wide and frantic when his words finally settle in: “You shouldn’t be here.” But your eyes shoot up at first, taller than himself (were you expecting someone else?), and when they land on him shivering in his choir boy robe they all but melt. He’d never been looked at like that. Your little hands grip the massive church door a little less tightly and then you smile, “It’s snowing.”

Edward blinks. Of course it’s snowing. It’s December in Gotham. It always snows in December.

But by the look on your face, Edward could‘be been convinced it had never snowed before. That snow had been a construct of childhood, like Santa for the kids who got to be lied to about Santa, and that all kids your age knew by now that snow wasn’t real. And then you’d opened that church door and suddenly it was.

The breeze coming in would be enough to make the orphanage’s scary wardens shiver and complain about wanting to go home early while Edward’s fingers go numb for the night, but he finds himself moving closer to you.

You pull the door a little wider and suddenly you’re waving him over, beckoning him beside you. He can see the snow past your head. “You’ll catch a cold.” He tries, a little louder, a warning with experience. “They’ll notice we’re not in service.”

Still, he comes closer.

When Edward is right beside you, he can hear the chatter of your teeth and see your breaths clouding the space between you both. For a moment, he thinks that this might be a trick and turns quickly to catch some burly monster of a teenager before they could shove him out into the cold to freeze to death, but no such thing happens. It’s just you two in the foyer, and the echo of the priest in the main hall.

“Does it always snow like this?” You bypass his warning.

Edward looks out at the white coating the Gotham streets, adults rushing through the light snowfall knowing what would await if they stayed in it too long. Even beautiful things in Gotham were deadly. “Yeah, it’s winter. It always snows in winter.”

Your eyes narrow a little indignantly, “Not where I’m from.”

Edward remembers. Your father, the imposing figure he was, had mentioned a place warm and very far away from Gotham. He also remembered wondering why anyone from such a nice place would move here. Your pristine clothing had told Edward you were from a much, much better place, but he hadn’t had it in him to be as upset about that as he usually would be.

In fact, he finds himself a little nervous standing right next to you. “What’s it like where you’re from?” He asks, as if he hadn’t gone to the Gotham Public Library weeks ago and asked one of the librarians about it after you’d first arrived. The other kids would only ever tell him it was somewhere he’d “never get to go”.

“It only ever gets cold really late in winter, and it never lasts long. Mom had to get me new clothes for Gotham because it gets too cold here and it never snows back home.” Then you make a face and correct yourself, “Back there.”

You hadn’t looked too fond of your new situation upon moving here. Your father had said your family was joyous at joining the church, and yet your face had been filled with grief. As if it had only settled in on that Sunday that you would never be leaving Gotham.

Your eyes start to fog over with the same grief again, and… it’s strange. Edward doesn’t like seeing you like that. He finds himself fumbling for something to talk about that other kids his age would like, something he wasn’t very good at, and settles on a memory, “When the wardens feel generous, they sometimes take us to Gotham Square. They put a really big Christmas tree up and give out free hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. If you sing,” his body had long since accustomed to the Gotham winter, but only now does he feel his cheeks warm under your curious gaze, “they always make us sing.”

“Why do you call them wardens?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from the orphanage, right? Why do you call them wardens? It sounds kind of mean.”

Edward blinks, having never had to think about it. That was one thing the other kids could agree on, “Because they’re mean.”

He should hate it, the flash of sympathy on your face. He doesn’t need sympathy from people like you or Bruce Wayne or anyone. What he needs is a jacket. It’s getting really cold standing by the open door with you.

“You’re a pretty singer.”

Edward actually makes a noise. It’s strained, like the cats that loiter outside the orphanage for scraps that’ll never come, “What?”

“You’re a pretty singer, you have a pretty voice,” you clarify, using the word pretty, pretty, pretty, you’re pretty, pretty, “my mom thinks so too. She said I should sound more like you.”

“Can you not sing?” His voice stutters as does his little, gentle heart. Not used to the kindness.

You shake your head and push the door closed a little, the cold getting too much for you, he thinks, “Apparently, I sound like I’m in pain.” And then, to Edward’s surprise, you demonstrate with a little shriek you call holding a note.

And he doesn’t mean to because it’s impolite to laugh at others (as if it ever stopped anyone from laughing at him), but he bursts into such an uncontrollable fit of giggles that his glasses fog up and he can only just see your mouth turn from an “o” into a smile. He grabs at his stomach to stop the shaking of his laughter but it barely helps.

He should be more worried that someone will hear. But you don’t look bothered. He feels safe right now. Something else he’s not used to.

“See! That’s unfair. You have a pretty laugh too.” You complain, though your tone is playfully annoyed.

“No, I- I don’t,” he wheezes through heavy breaths, “you’re crazy.”

“Am not!”

Edward wipes under his glasses at the small tear forming in his eye, coming down from his fit to see you proudly smiling with your hands now behind your back. It comes out of his mouth before he has a chance to stop himself, “You must have hypothermia.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, confused, “Hippo- what?”

“Hypothermia… it happens when you get too cold. You can get confused.” Edward winces explaining, wondering if you’d catch on that you actually didn’t like talking to him soon, “Delirious.” He tries instead, as if the word would be any more familiar to you if you didn’t pore over books and word puzzles like he did all hours of the day.

“Oh.” You blink, your silence a tiny trigger on a shotgun pointed at his self-esteem. He shouldn’t have confused you, brought you out of the fun. You’d think he was dull now. Like the other kids do. “Is that why I feel this way?”

“What?” It’s Edward’s turn to be confused now. You don’t clarify this time, jaw clenching like you’d said the wrong thing. He worries suddenly that he’d been right on the money.

He steps closer and presses his hand to your forehead on instinct like he would the babies at the orphanage, checking warmth through the night and hoping for sunrise. Out from your mouth escapes a little peep at the contact and he pulls his hand back very quickly, now worried he’d overstepped the boundary. Crossed over too quickly into familiarity, into fondness. Your skin was burning warm. What had you meant by “this way”?

Your mouth opens to form a word when the door you’re leaning on suddenly shuts under a heavier weight. The two of you hadn’t even noticed your mother now standing there, furiously concerned and wrapping her coat around your shoulders, “What are you thinking? It’s freezing outside! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Edward feels a pang in his heart when your mother cups your cheek, feeling for what he’d felt for moments ago. He gets that nasty little feeling twisting in his heart again. Remembering who you are and who he is.

You have a mother to keep you warm. Why should he worry?

He’s halfway in a turn when your mother suddenly looks at him, and then touches him on the cheek too and he jolts away from the unfamiliar (soft) contact. Her hand retracts with quiet concern, “Are you alright, dear? You look flushed. You both really shouldn’t be out here.”

Edward presses the back of his hand to his own face and notes that she’s right.

You look up at your mother and then back at Edward, “Sorry. It’s my fault. I wanted to watch the snow with Eddie.”

Eddie? You knew his name?

The kids in the home called him that with condescension, because “Edward” was too dignified and full of itself and there was nothing Edward needed more than to be knocked down a few pegs. Of course.

You, on the other hand, said it like a friend. Like you two had known each other forever. Like you knew him too well to just keep calling him “Edward”.

“Well, service is almost over. Shall I escort you both back to your pews?” Your mother’s sweetness is so strange to hear. When she holds out her hand to him, he is too shocked to jump away this time, “You can sit with us if you’d like, Eddie.” She has a glint of out-of-place warmth in her eyes just like you.

Edward wants nothing more than to accept, but the other kids would notice and the warden would drag him by the scruff into the old, rickety orphanage bus and tell him that he’d get no dinner tonight for embarrassing them. His stomach turns at the thought. “No thank you, ma’am.”

“At least come get warm.” She beckons, ushering you both back to the main hall.

Edward follows you, a step behind, until he simply can’t and must return to the pews with the other church boys who watch him with wide eyes. One of the wardens looks furious when she finally spots him off with you. He feels her eyes burn into the back of his head even when he sits down, rigid with his hands shoved between his thighs to warm them up again. He stares ahead, unmoving, not even answering the boys nearest him and their questions about where he’d been.

Edward stares ahead until he just can’t anymore. You’re staring right at him from across the aisle, hands cupped around your mouth as he watches you make out a word: Hippo-term-ia.

It’s hard to pass off his laugh as a cough.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry

#edward nashton x reader #edward nashton scenarios #edward nashton imagine #edward nashton fluff #childhood friends #riddler x reader #riddler scenarios #riddler imagine #paul dano riddler #the batman #mjwrites

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nygmcbblepot · 1 year

Text

Happy New Year

Edward Nygma x FEM!Reader

Warnings: Smut

You sat on the couch of your apartment staring outside at the city streets. The snow falling onto the ground. Twas silent until there was a knock at your front door. You got up adjusting your pajamas and went to go check who was at the door. Peaking through the peephole you saw your boyfriend, Edward, standing there with a bottle of wine. You opened the door and he gave you a smile, handing you the bottle. It must’ve been windy outside as well because his hair was disheveled with tiny snowflakes peppered in his dark brown hair.

“Come in,” you said moving aside to let him step in. “Thank you for the wine. Would you like me to pour you a glass?” He nodded his head as he sat down on your couch. You noticed that he had been acting different for the past few months. Assuming it was just because his ex, Kristen, had unexpectedly left town with her ex boyfriend when her and Ed were still together. Maybe he was scared that you would do the same? While working as the medical examiner for the GCPD, you were able to see Ed a lot since he was forensics. That’s how you two met, became friends, and after Kristen left, started dating. He was too busy staring outside of the window to notice you sit down beside him with his glass of wine.

“Ed, are you okay? You’ve been acting stand offish recently. I just want to make sure that you’re doing okay.” He gently took the glass from your hand and took a sip from it. He nodded again. The silence filling the apartment. Grabbing the remote, you turned on the television and started switching between channels, trying to find one doing a countdown till New Years. Once you found one, you set the remote down and took a sip of your wine, noticing that Ed was still staring out onto the city. “It’s a pretty view, isn’t it? Especially during the winter when there’s snow.”

“It is. I’m sorry if I’m not being talkative, I’m just a bit tired from work,” he said speaking his first words of the night. You laid your head on his shoulder and also looked out onto the city.

…

A few glasses of wine later you knew you both had too much. Not enough to be drunk, but enough to feel effects. You noticed Ed staring down at you. Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed you. For a minute you were stunned until you melted into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms reached for your waist, pulling himself closer to you. He leaned back into the arm of the couch, you basically on top of him. Once he adjusted to make himself comfortable and to make sure you were, he kissed you again. This time being more sloppy and wet. The taste of wine from both of your mouths mixing. It wasn’t long until you felt him grow hard in his pants. You took your hand and started palming his clothed erection. You felt him moan in your mouth.

“Please,” he muttered,” I can’t take it anymore.” He grabbed onto your waist until you were on top of him, straddling his hips. You gently were undoing his pants when he grabbed your arm. “I have a condom in the pocket of my pants.” You nodded your head. As soon as he was left in his boxers, you grabbed a condom from his pants and placed it on the coffee table.

You took off your shirt and pants and threw them, leaving you in a bra and panties. You grabbed the scrunchie off your arm and tied your hair up into a ponytail. Deciding to tease him a bit more, you started licking strips on his cock, making eye contact with him. His moan and the sounds of your mouth starting to fill the once silent apartment. He was falling apart at your touch. Once he started getting louder, you stopped teasing and swirled your tongue round the tip before taking his length in your mouth. You were bobbing up and down his cock and used your hand to gently play with his balls. This must’ve turned him on more, causing him to let out louder whimpers and moans. Within a matter of seconds, you felt him twitch and cum in your mouth. You raised your head off his shaft and made sure he watched as you swallowed every last drop. You stroked his shaft with one hand as the other reached to the coffee table and grabbed the said condom, ripping it open with just your available hand and teeth. Lifting your hand that was stroking it, you placed the condom on.

He started to rise from the couch, having you a bit confused. “Get on your knees,” He demanded. You did exactly what he told you. Your ass in the air as you were on your hands and knees. He pushed your head into the couch and grabbed both of your arms, holding them behind your back. Thats when you felt him entering you. “Is this okay,” He asked. You tried nodding your head until you couldn’t. Remembering that your head was being kept down by his strong hand.

“Yes. Please keep going,” you begged. He used your hands that were behind you back to have you move up and down his cock. The apartment filling with the sounds of your moans. At first he kept his pace slow, to make it more passionate. Trying to savor the moment. After so long, he started going faster, causing you to get louder. “Fuck,” you screamed out. His hips slamming against your ass, causing the sound of your skin slapping together to echo in the apartment. You started to feel your walls clench around his cock.

“Shit I’m close,” He mumbled, trying to keep the pace so that you could finish. The tighter your walls got around him, the harder he would pound. You felt yourself orgasm but Ed kept fucking you through it. He finished shortly after you did, pulling out his cock and ripping off the condom. You were stuck in your position until your legs stopped shaking. The pleasure still filling your body. Ed got up and threw his condom away in your bathroom. You got up and were about to clean yourself off until he stopped in front of you,

“Go sit back on the couch,” he demanded. You did what he told you, touching yourself as he walked away. You didn’t know what he was doing but you were hoping it wasn’t over. He came back shortly after with something in his hand. He demanded that you spread your legs. You did what he told you. You loved him being dominate and demanding during sex. He grabbed the coffee table and pulled it away from the couch to give himself space for whatever he was going to do.

Once it was moved, he sat between your legs, spreading them out more than what you had. He started kissing up your thigh until he reached your cunt. He looked up at you as he started licking your left lip, the object he had before still in his hand. He teased you for a bit before he took his available hand and massaged your cit, causing you to moan louder than you were before. As he did that, he was focusing on the hand with the unknown object in it. He looked at it for a bit before turning it on and sticking it inside of you. The bullet vibrator doing its job as he moved his mouth to suck your clit. Your back started to arch so he pushed both of his hands on your hips, trying to keep you down. Your moans getting louder the closer you got to finishing. Once you finished, he kept the vibrator in so you can ride out your orgasm.

He went into the bathroom grabbing you a wet wash cloth. He brought it back to you as the countdown till the New Year was down to three seconds. You were cleaning yourself up as it hit midnight. “Happy New Year,” he said smirking.

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