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#the riddler fanfiction
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)
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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.)
@misadventures0fdes @junebugp @simestandswithtaylorswift-blog @carley-carley-carley @lostbunn @dragovegogrimborn @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @edwardspumpkinpie @murderbimbo00 @sweetums0kitty @beel-mcburger @cml-san @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @bimboanime @phoenixgurl030 @dangerouslittlefairy @yoyoanaria @yaeyuuki @vinxlsketches @beenz-beenz @ghoulsgraveyard @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @r3ptiliaaa @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowersleep @hxney-lemcn @callsigncrash @bokksieu @skateb0red @philiasoul@felicityofbakerstreet @deadlights-darling @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell
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finniestoncrane · 2 months
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Can you do a oneshot of Arkham Knight Riddler eating reader out? He needs to eat. And I need a dirty, greasy, disgusting man to violate me with his tongue. I want his to have to wipe the cum and drool as it dribbles down his chin. Absolutely NASTY!
Snack
Arkham!Riddler x Fem!Reader, word count: 450 just a lil oneshot, just a lil snack u-u listen i've done it before and i'll do it again lmao if there's one thin i won't get tired of it's eddie eating pussy!! also it's fem!reader but there's no gendered language, so anyone with a vagina who doesn't mind the word pussy should be all good request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: oral sex, a bit of fingering, mentions of overstim
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Eddie rolled his tongue, almost wave like, making the muscle pulse and curve from the back to the tip against your dripping cunt. Each lap made you wail, your fingers curled into his hair, tugging at the root as you pushed him to you and pulled him away when you could feel yourself getting too close to your inevitable orgasm.
From the moment he'd fallen to his knees in front of you, you had been close. Desperate. Wet. You could feel your clit twitching as he pulled off your pants, then your underwear. Feel your inside aching as he lifted your legs up and placed them on his deceptively strong shoulders. Let your jaw drop, a howling wail coming out of your open mouth as he used his thumbs to spread your lips apart.
Now, you were soaking, your entire body throbbing, muscles tensing as they waited for your release. Eddie worked at it, his thin lips circling your clit as he inserted a finger inside of you, another joining it quickly after. The way he spread you open, devouring you as though he were actually starving made your heart pound, your stomach flip, your vision going blurry as you got closer to the edge of the intense climax that felt as though it choked you.
You were clouded by your orgasm, brain fogged with only the notion of seeking pleasure coming into focus, but you still stole a look down towards Eddie. As though he sensed you watching him, he looked up towards you, steely blue eyes glinting with his malicious glee. He removed his fingers from you, using the back of the same hand to wipe his chin which was slick with your cum, dripping with his own drool.
Every second he spent away from you was agonising, threatening to dull the release that had been building up. But you felt his sharp nose come into contact with your once again, his stubbled cheeks between your thighs, dark brown hair tickling your skin as he dove back in, pressing his tongue in and out of you, moaning as he fucked you with his mouth.
With a sharp squeal you came, quivering under his continued touch, overstimulated almost immediately after your body settled back down. But Eddie kept going, chuckling to himself, not quite satisfied and certain you had more to give him. He pulled away briefly, only long enough to reassure you in a cruel, teasing tone that felt like he was purposefully mocking your pathetic desperation.
"If you want me to stop, you only have to ask. 'Please, Mister Nigma, Sir. I've had enough.' Say it loud and clear."
He only offered you the out as he was confident you wouldn't take it, smiling smugly to himself as you grabbed him by his hair and pushed him back into you.
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astrok1dz · 7 months
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❤️ Glad you’re back! ❤️
I can’t remember your request guidelines rn so I’m gonna play it safe. Coddling and complimenting Eddie? 👀
RRRAHHHH THAT WAS QUICK!!!!!!! ALR, YES. Eddie needs to be spoiled and just. so much attention. I am very much willing to give that to him. that being said
cw: Eddie being traumatized (duh), a bit of angst, a dash of relationship issues, dw they fix it, happy ending, fluff
Never Too Much
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okay so bc of Eddie's past, we know he most probably has a lot of trouble getting into relationships, let alone romantic ones.
so when he met you, and obsessed over you, of course, he felt so lucky he could even breathe the same air as you
but nothing good ever lasts for him, everything is ripped away from him by this god forsaken city. he tries not to get too attached (and fails miserably) so he's shy for longer than he should be.
he's just trying to be prepared for when you'll leave him.
he's absolutely surprised when you don't
he doesn't say anything, of course, but he's just utterly confused
how? how didn't you leave him? all this city had taught him was how he wasn't good enough, how he was different, and how different people, people like him, don't get anything nice. don't deserve anything nice.
you notice this. you always do. it's not hard to tell when he's overthinking. he'll stop and take deep breaths or immerse himself in puzzles, but you're working on communication
you decide to start coddling Edward. to spoil him a little bit.
it doesn't even have to be something big, he'll be grateful for whatever you give him, although he doesn't quite know how to tell you or thank you properly
Eddie hadn't been your Eddie for the last two weeks or so, consumed with work and his plans to cleanse the city. He hadn't had the energy to be quite romantic or intimate lately, so things had been a little colder than usual. It hurt. Did he not love you?
One day you realized your mistake. Eddie? Your Eddie worshipped you. Sure, he could have his bad moments and want some time to himself, but after all the neglect and abuse he'd lived, he probably wanted to be coddled. He just was too embarrassed to ask you to do it. No wonder things had been like this. It was your turn to take the lead.
Now you knew, and you decided to take matters into your own hands. For the last couple of weeks you had been thinking of little ways to make him feel better, and today would finally be the day when you unleashed them all onto little unsuspecting Edward.
You hear the creak and slam of the door to your apartment. In comes Edward's tumbling silhouette, shuffling around to plop down on the couch next to you. Your sweet boy, all tired from work, all tired from this city. He always was.
"Eddie! Oh honey I missed you so much...", you coo, and his heart melts, because although he knows you adore him, he's used to having his absence not quite matter.
He's silent as he shuffles a little closer to you, and you immediately receive him with open arms and an inviting hug.
"Tough day?", you ask, and he nods. You do as well, and hold his shoulders.
"I got a little surprise for you, c'mon, follow me", you tell him. He looks at you, eyebrows knitted in confusion. You help him get up and slowly peel off his jacket, take his hand, and lead him to your bathroom.
He doesn't even get to see what it is before a sweet aroma invades his nostrils. Your tiny bathroom, adorned with scented candles, bubbles and rose petals floating on your tiny tub (if you could call it that).
What?
He looks at you, confused. Why would you do this? Why you, such an angelic being, the antithesis of this dirty city, do this for him, a broken man?
"I- you didn't-", he starts.
"I didn't have to, I know. But you've been so stressed lately and I wanted to help you relax...", you explain kindly. You start shredding your clothes, ready to enter the tub with him. You extend your hand to him, and he feels as if he's being dragged to the pearly gates of heaven.
"Besides, I've been missing you so much... I wanted you all to myself a lil' bit...", you say, and ignore the sting in your eyes. You really did miss him so so much...
"You can have me all to yourself whenever you want (Y/n)...", he stutters out, feeling guilty.
"Oh...", you let out. There he was, so kind, so sweet to you, so unapologetically yours.
"Well, in that case...", you say, almost seductively, but cover up a little once again when you remember your appearance. You were so busy planning this whole thing for today, you hadn't even shaved, you hadn't taken care of yourself. It felt overwhelming. What if your appearance ruined this whole things for him?
"Shit- I didn't- I forgot to- Sorry-"
He stares at you, but his eyes sparkle and his round face is flushed as if this was the first time he's ever seen you (which you both know is not the case).
"You know I don't care about those things. I want to see you...", he says, taking your hand. He looks at you, eyes full of adoration. His hands make their way to your waist and caress it gently, bringing you closer. He leaves a chaste kiss on your lips.
A few happy tears escape your eyes. There he was, the Eddie you've been missing. You help him undress, hands sliding lovingly over every inch of skin you know he's not fond of. Eddie. Your Eddie, so soft and round and most of all, so gentle.
You both get in the tub, cuddled up together. You don't even need to say a word. You both occasionally ask each other questions regarding doubts or insecurities, and reassure each other. When you're both satisfied with each other's answers you share the silence, snuggled up.
"You're so pretty, Eddie... my baby..."
He shivers, and you keep going.
"I love you, Eddie. You're kind and so so sweet. You deserve this, Eddie"
You notice by the way he shakes that now it's his turn to cry, happy cry, of course.
"My baby, you're so strong... You're safe here, you're okay. I love you Eddie, I'll never leave you". You coo.
He sobs, feeling free to break down in your presence. You kiss his tears away.
"Th-Thank you... you're too good to me... you do too much...", he hiccups.
"Oh, but don't you get it, Eddie? It's never too much", you reply, and for the first time, he begins to believe it.
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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
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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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lost-in-sokovia · 1 year
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Hi soph!!!! You asked for blurb requests so can you do something about just hugging Eddie and how warm and soft and loved he feels??
HI DARLING YES!
windbreaker
he ran in as quickly as possible, closing the door firmly behind him and letting a shiver run through his entire body. it had been rainy and windy all day in gotham, and you were lucky you had gotten to stay home all day instead of going out like your poor boyfriend.
you heard eddie sniff as he took off his shoes taking a couple of deep breaths to re-ground himself and let his body finally relax. you stood up from the couch and softly made your way to the door where he stood.
“hi, baby,” you greeted sweetly. edward looked up at you and gave you a small smile.
“hi, angel. s-sorry,” he breathed. you cocked an eyebrow.
“sorry about what?”
“just—“ your boyfriend sighed heavily and shrugged. he knew he had no reason to apologize. he was literally just existing after coming home from work. you looked at him and carefully walked over to him. unzipping his wet navy blue windbreaker, you parted the sides before wrapping your arms around his body inside it. edward’s breath caught in his throat and you nuzzled against the button up he wore as you took in how warm and comforting he felt.
“you’re so lovely,” was all you murmured. you felt eddie’s shallow breath graze the top of your head for a moment before he swallowed.
“thank you,” he mumbled, a bit flustered. you stayed there, occasionally increasing your grip around him and running your fingers gently up and down his back. he couldn’t quite hug you back, he didn’t want to get you wet, but from the way he slowly melted into your touch, you knew he felt at home.
loved.
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writingsofmax · 2 years
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Art my friend made of my Riddler x Reader fic Disarm !!! @piddlerXD on twitter!!!!
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puzzlekinq · 1 year
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plssss write more for eddie🙏🙏 something domestic and sweet with reader who stays safe in his apartment and doesn't go out without him💞💞💞im literally ripping my hair out over the way you write him i luv u
HIII im sorry it took me a bit to get to this, haven't had any motivation to write but HERE!!! pumped this out within like 20-ish minutes wooo i hope this is what you were imagining!! i love you too and im glad u like how i write him eeeee!!
"It's too late."
Eddies arms are wrapped protectively around your waist from behind, his face nuzzled into your neck. You had asked for permission to go out and grap a few things, as your food supply was running quite low due to Edward prioritizing his plans over sustenance. "I'm hungry." You attempted to argue, him being so cuddly making it hard to do so.
"I'll order something." He was holding you firmly in his arms, as if to keep you in place, safe in his apartment, where he knew you wouldn't be hurt by the brutal outside world. An angel like you had to be protected, he decided long ago. The vile, cesspool of a city that Edward refused to let tarnish your purity was far too dangerous for you.
"Eddie, we've lived off takeout for the past week." You retorted, honestly just wanting to get out of his stuffy apartment for at least an hour or two. He hummed as if in contemplation, but you knew his answer already. Edward inhaled the scent of your hair deeply, savoring the rush of dopamine it gave him. "Tomorrow." He mumbled simply, giving the top of your head a soft kiss. "I have time to go out with you tomorrow. I promise."
You were surprised for a moment, not expecting him to actually agree to it. Going in public had recently made him even more anxious than before he became The Riddler. All those eyes watching him like they knew his secret, or the eyes watching you, planning to snatch you away from him at any moment. That's what he thought, anyway. He absolutely refused to let you go anywhere alone. With the rampant crime in Gotham, it wasn't a matter of if you'd get hurt, it was when.
"Okay, okay..." You gave in, which immediately made him squeeze your body tighter. "I know it m-might be... dissapointing, but it's all for your s-safety. All of it." Edward turned you around gently to face him, giving you a look of utter admiration as his breath caught in his throat, like he was looking at the most beautiful sight in the universe. In his eyes, he was.
He brushed away a strand of hair that was in your face delicately, treating you like a glass doll that would shatter from any ounce of force. Edward tilted your chin up with his finger, smiling down at you as he gazed into your eyes. "You're angelic." He sighed, as your cheeks became dusted a faint shade of pink from the loving attention. Your legs couldn't help but feel weak in his presence, especially when he practically worshiped you like this.
"God... the mere sight of you..." He trails off as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. You lean into his touch, never having felt more loved and appreciated before. You couldn't help but smile. From how sweet and attentive he was, you almost forget hes a sadistic, ruthless killer sometimes. When hes with you, though... when the camera is off, when the blood is washed from his hands, he's your Eddie.
Your perfect Eddie.
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pillsarchive · 2 years
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The two of us are dying.
Edward Nashton (Riddler)/ Trans male! Reader
Reader is a trans guy and he/they pronouns are used (but I can totally switch the pronouns + descriptions and make other versions if people are interested)
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Synopsis ;
Reader is a True Crime freak, Edward is a freak freak, reader finds his stream one night and the riddler takes an interest in him.
Warnings ; Edward is an incel, stalking, creepy behavior on Edwards part, mentions of smut, kidnapping, terrorism childhood trauma, murder, mention of rat cage torture, the usual.
No real tangible smut (for now ;;;;))))
No one has ever really liked Edward Nashton.
As a child he was always picked last in gym, blankets and coats were missing when he came back to the orphanage from school, even then people were put off by him. Now as an adult it isn’t any better, still alone, still wanting for more. Even with his newfound purpose the prospect of isolation, lifetime isolation, it scares him. His fans fill the hole in his chest a little bit, but they arent nearly enough. It’s like he hasnt seen anyone face to face in years.
If someone asked you why you spend all this time learning about criminals you wouldn’t be able to tell them. You’ve never been violent (save for in thought), you dont have trouble empathizing with people, you never wet the bed or killed animals or suffered head trauma as a child, you dont even like torture porn movies. None of that matters because night after night you find yourself reading about gothams criminal history. Lately that’s meant learning about him. A masked serial killer in army fatigue, the man (at least you assume he's a man) you’ve been obsessing over for the last four weeks calls himself the riddler. Dorky name. Really really silly, you think, especially when you consider there’s another serial killer named ‘the joker’ locked up in arkham. The riddler and the joker, its hard to be upset by how absolutely shitty gotham is when most of its criminals are so goofy. That’s sort of what.....impresses (you aren’t sure thats the right word) you about the riddler - he’s horrifying in spite of the name. You weren’t really around town when the joker was free, but even after reading the accounts of what he did you cant imagine he was ever as chilling as this new one is. You’d like to meet him, the riddler, you think. See what he’s like with the mask off. See if that’s worse.
Just as your mind reaches to start thinking about gothams man in green again, you remember two things.
One, you aren’t allowed to think about weird shit at work - lest your thoughts spill out of your mouth and you scare your coworkers.
Two, you’re supposed to be on opening shift. Opening shift means you were supposed to unlock the doors five minutes ago. Yikes.
Thank god your boss isnt here and thank god there’s no one at the door.
You sigh and walk back to the counter.
Another exciting day of customer service.
That’s the thing you hate most about your job. Inconsistency. Some days the customers are sweet and they tip well, some days (cough today) are grueling - the people are rude the work is hard and at the end of the day you feel weak.
As you turn on your laptop you wonder ; what better way to wind down than watching a murderer livestream?
A url is typed into the search bar, you must have forgotten to clear it last night.
For weeks you’ve been trying to get brave enough to actually click ‘enter’ when you type in the website, but you just haven't been able to do it. He’s good with tech and smart, what if he figures out where you are? What if you get arrested for neglecting to report criminal behavior? Is that even a thing the police can do? As your finger hovers over the enter key you weigh the pros and cons. Pro, entertainment for the night. Con, might get arrested or something. Pro, you get to see the real deal in all his terrifying, terrifying glory. Con -
Your cat brushes up against you, you twitch, and to your slight horror you hear a
click
Shit. No better time than the present, you guess.
The screen of your laptop goes black and after a few seconds a bright green
Appears on the screen.
< A new one. Though I’d like to congratulate you now, finding the website in a sea of fakes is no small feat, I want to play a game first.>
He's definitely seen saw more than once.
<My two hands never stop moving but I dont work or play, I am immortal but I can still pass, I am valued but I dont exist - what am I?>
True to his name, he does like riddles. You are kind of disappointed he doesn't really say "riddle me this", you've always thought the phrase is funny. After a few moments of thinking you type out the answer to his question.
<Time, right?>
<Smart - It didn't even take you twenty seconds. >
In spite of yourself your lips upturn into a small smile at the praise.
<Thank you :)>
<Quite welcome. What's your name?>
Fear pooled in your chest and you felt your mouth begin to dry. Hopefully he meant usernames.
< Is ‘lucretiamy’ taken?>
<No. Lucretia - you're a girl or a sisters of mercy fan?>
Should you say? On one hand, lying will probably piss him off, that’s kind of his whole thing, on the other hand those school PSAs told you never to state your gender to any strangers online (and those are normal strangers, strangers that havent violently attacked and killed anyone in the past week). Plus, you've hung around this crowd online long enough to know a lot of them aren't really too eager to *not* be awful to trans people.
After a minute or so you’re still deciding and another message pops up.
<I can tell you the answer, its publicly available information really - instagram bio, but you wont answer?>
A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you type.
<Didnt figure you'd understand. Some of your supporters havent been very welcoming to me.>
< I cant accept that kind of behavior, cleaning up gotham doesnt just mean getting rid of politicians, it means getting rid of people like that too. If you dont give out your personal information there shouldnt be any negative attention, but if it anyone does talk to you about it here let me know. >
Ha. The man that just found your instagram account, your personal instagram account, in almost a minute without a username telling you not to give info to strangers online. You smiled a little bit. He seemed......nice, as nice as someone like him could be.
<Thank you, I mean it. I will.>
< :] . Play safe, have fun.>
The chat screen closed and a stream setup with a timer in the middle of the feed replaced it. A chat box on the left scrolled slowly down, two people were figuring out how to "riddler pill" their family members. You expected to have some time left before the stream, but the timer noted there was only about 3 minutes. Sitting and waiting made your nerves act up more than talking to the guy. You were expecting him to be strange, cut off, incellish. So far he seems shockingly...... fine. Then again, ted bundy was also a normal person, so was BTK, etc. Still some part of you didn’t register the fact that this man was dangerous.
You pulled out your sketchbook as you waited for the timer to hit 00:00 and sat down on your couch.
After a few minutes of sketching, a beep sounded off. You jumped and looked down at your computer to see a blurry feed of the masked man staring up at the camera.
When he spoke you leaned forward in your chair. His voice was gritty, filtered, but there was an underlying softness to it.
“Hey guys!”
He waved at the camera, excited.
“So - “
He clapped his hands together.
“I want to take a break from talking strategy today and welcome a few new users! Feel free to say hi in chat guys, introduce yourselves, get to know each other, I do want this to be a community.”
He seemed to wait for the fans responses.
Cautiously you typed out a “Hi, everybody!”
Responses ran through the chat, mostly reply hello's and smiley faces, until someone asked you a question.
<What brings you here, lucretia?>
You had to think for a moment before you started typing. Honest response - "I want to watch a serial killer livestream his murders for fun after work" or, the other one. The answer you've been coming to terms with for a while now.
The ladder would probably go over better.
< It irks me - ive only lived in this city for a few years and I dont have it bad, not by any stretch of the imagination, but the way politicians ignore every problem thats real, that effects people, in favor of culture war non issues makes me angry. You can drive down main and see it, people sleeping on the streets getting the cops called on them, getting told to move away from the rich people's sky scraper apartment buildings to poorer areas so no one has to look at them. Arkham asylum has the highest death rate of any prison in the country, its known for being a hell hole where they send people to die, the people who finance this city - run things, dont just let it exist they ship people like that joker guy there. No one does what he did without having serious mental health problems. They lock him up instead of trying to help him by getting him the care he needs. Same with drugs, same with housing crisis, same with muggings. It's gross. At least the riddler's doing something.>
You didnt really have a problem with the riddler, just how he went about things. The mayors son found him, no kid should have to go through that, but would the justice system have dealt with Mitchell correctly had he been caught and turned in the old fashioned way? Hell no. It was a grey area. Violence is never the answer except when it is, but can this much violence really be necessary? As the riddler read the chat his eyes lit up.
“Yes! It should get to you, it should make you angry and hurt, they see us everyday and they dont do anything. Every one of them - they dont do anything. Drugs are only a problem because the people on top are trying to make money instead of help us, if we just treated people like people we’d be better off. Thats why they dont get humanity. On the news when they all whine and cry about the poooooor dead mayor awww he was a great guy wasnt he? - NO. No. He doesnt treat us like people so we’ll repay the debt. We’ll leave every one of them hanging out the windows of their million dollar a month high rise apartments like livestock and see how they fucking like it.”
He was almost screaming now. You arent sure how the other people in his apartment block cant hear him through the walls. For the next hour and a half you watch him walk in circles, moving erratically like he’s in some sort of trance. Still he's strangely compelling, charismatic. Even the people in the chat are intimidating, all seemingly well read, smart, angry, the whole thing scares you.
Still, your bi - nightly routine becomes sitting down to watch his streams
(and his nightly routine becomes watching you).
Things went on as usual for the next few weeks. You went to work, sat around and served people drinks for a few hours, then you came home and watched his streams. After the first chat you two had you'd assumed there would be more, to your slight relief (and slight disappointment) no green text had popped up on your laptop screen in almost a month. You knew it was weird - sickening almost - but you hoped he at least thought about you from time to time. He was sort of cute when he wasn't screaming about politicians ruining his life, and he didn't do that as much as you thought he would. Most streams ended up being him interacting with the chat, asking for tips, talking, getting to know people. Tonight was one of those nights. To your dismay your boss had scheduled you for the early morning shift instead of the evening shift you usually had - that meant you'd have to miss stream. You logged on really quick to tell everyone that you were ok, you'd just have to go to bed early tonight. A few of your acquaintances (you wouldn't quit call them friends) typed out their condolences, but other than that your absence notice seemed to fly under the radar.
That is until your screen went black and a familiar question mark symbol showed up.
&lt;;?>
<Why do you have to miss stream?>
A small smile crept across your face.
<Aw, are you going to miss me?>
<You didn't answer my question.>
<My boss scheduled me for a morning shift without asking. He's rude that way - I have to be at work from 12 - 5 >:(. >
Behind his screen, the riddler giggled.
<Maybe we'll see each other.>
<How do you mean?>
<I usually go out for food after stream, I might see you around.>
The thought filled your stomach with butterflies, or something more violent than that - birds maybe.
<I hope you do.>
He took a while to type out his next message.
<;Really?>
<Yeah. I think it would be fun to meet you IRL. Talk on stream is usually centered on "the big event" - you cant be too personal or someone might figure out who you are. You're interesting, I want to know what kind of books and movies you like, If you own pets, shit like that. >
<Para social relationship fantasizing, I know, Im sorry. Lol.>
You quickly added.
It seemed like hours before he responded. You were almost considering closing out of the window - maybe you'd scared him (ha). After nearly five minutes a message popped up.
<Maybe we should meet. >
<Are you fr?>
&lt;Yes. >
As if it wasn't already too ominous for your liking, he sent another message.
<I'd like to get to know you too, maybe meet your cat.>
<I'll see you soon. Dont get too worried about it.>
<Goodbye.>
Oh god. "Your cat" meaning your one cat, a specific number and a specific animal. He could just be guessing to try and scare you, maybe you accidentally dropped the information in chat (you did love showing him off - he was a beaut, and your only son), but something tells you he gleaned the knowledge a different way. Something tells you he may be more interested in you than you first assumed.
Going to work after receiving that information was a struggle. You were a man broken into thirds. One part of you wondered if you were over reacting and making a big deal out of nothing - he knew you had a cat big deal that didnt mean he was stalking you. The second part was horrified, he was dangerous and pretty unstable, you knew that much. Now he was following you. The third part was the one that scared you the most. You liked it. You knew he was probably watching you, looking at you, he probably had been since you made an account on his website. You knew full well what he was doing and you liked it. You couldn't stop yourself from venturing further down, letting the image of him in his mask and his gloves slam you against a wall and choke you out, threaten you, maybe even draw blood. Your hand instinctually went for the waistband of your boxers but you stopped yourself, rubbing circles into the front of your thigh instead.
Fuuuuck, you had to work, you couldnt dwell on him right now.
You grabbed your keys and put on your leather combat boots and jacket (one of the small victories you had won over the short, sour little man who you were unfortunate enough to work under. He hated the boots and the jacket but you were a good worker so he couldnt fire you for adding edge to your stupid old fashioned baby blue diner outfit. You relished in this fact) and walked out the door.
People usually didn't bother you on your walks. You weren't rich, you weren't a girl walking home by herself, you looked just as aimless and tattered as the rest of the gothamites that hung around on the sidewalks at night. Black dyed hair with your roots showing, piercings, some tattoos. Still, you never wore headphones. The walk to work was short and you'd rather deal with city noise than risk getting jumped. Gotham was getting colder now, it was nearly november and the air had already chilled enough to make water freeze over. When you arrived at the diner and stepped inside it was a welcome relief from the cold. You greated your other coworker, jack, and walked into the locker room to put your things away. The locker looked like it was from the dump. Rusted in spots, bent, stained. The only redeeming quality it had was a thick metal door and a built in lock. The back door to the diner was always open in case someone wanted a smoke break (at least that's what your boss told you so he would have to admit the metal is fucked up and to get it all the way closed he has to pull with the full force of his 220 pounds. ), sometimes people came in and poked around looking for money.
You quickly grabbed your sketchbook and a few pens, shut the door to the locker, and walked out to stand at the till and wait for the next customer. An old man with weathered skin and a tattered jacket sat in the back booth and sipped on a cup of straight black coffee. Aside from him the place was a ghost town. As you leaned against the counter you started to sketch in the little black book. What would he look like in real life? Would he be average looking, unremarkable, the most beautiful person you'd ever seen, or would he be a girl? Pretty, long hair, short hair, eyeliner? You figured he would be an eyeliner person. Faces quickly filled the spread, all the same but different in some ways, all smiling. When there was no more room to draw possible faces you began to outline a large question mark in the middle of both pages. It was already almost half way through your shift now and there was still no one. Your boss said it got slow at night but you didn't think he meant this slow. You leaned over the counter and grabbed a butter knife, laying your hand flat on the table and slamming the tip to the cold linoleum visible in between your fingers.
Suddenly, the doorbell jingled.
You nearly jumped out of your skin. For a moment you forgot the greeting that had been beaten into your brain by a year and a half of customer service.
"Sorry sir, I was spaced out and you scared me. Feel free to sit anywhere, What can I get for you?"
He smiled wide when he spoke - messed with his hands too. Like he was a child standing in line to buy a new toy. Giddy.
"I'd love a latte and a slice of pie"
He paused, then quickly added -
"Please."
You grinned back at him, it was genuine - not a customer service obligatory. The guy was sort of cute, brown hair, glasses, nerdy in a good way - and he seemed happy. Most people drudged around the city like their pet dog had just died, dripping with sadness and anger. It wasn't like you couldn't understand it, you were sure you looked the same way walking to and from work, you just enjoyed it when other folks seemed like they were in a good mood. It cut through the miasmic despair that seemed to hang over gotham.
"Sure thing, ill bring that right out for you."
He giggled and you almost made a cooing noise in front of him - went awwww like you would when you saw a cat. You'd never heard anyone audibly go "tee hee" before, at least.......
Not outside of the riddler's streams.
You quickly walked over to the display in the counter and cut a slice of pie to put on a plate, then made the latte. As you watched the coffee drip into the cup you bounced up and down on the soles of your feet, this could go badly if you weren't actually right and the guy at that table had seen the news but you really didnt care that much. Youd just offer him a refund. You had a gut feeling now that the connection had been made in your mind and you weren't about to ignore it. If you let him leave without giving him a way to talk openly with you you'd kick yourself everyday for the rest of your 20s. When the frothed milk had settled on the top of the coffee you grabbed a stirring stick and traced out a <?> shape.
Letting out a sigh you turned around and walked over to where he was sitting. As you set the cup and the pie down the man looked up at you in confusion.
"Edible art?"
Your heart sank. He didn't get it, he wasnt the one.
"Yeah, sorry. I draw a lot and I get bored on the night shift - sometimes I make people coffee art. "
You plastered on a wide smile to hide your disappointment.
"No, no I like it. You're talented, I dont think I could manage to scratch out a smiley face in a latte."
"Thanks. Do you need anything else?"
"Nope! Thank you."
As you walked away you stiffled tears, grinding your nails into your palm as you tried not to sob in the middle of the diner. It was a bad habit, sure, but you couldn't really stop. On bad days - days when it was harder to get out of bed, to eat, something as small as running out of your favorite hand lotion could leave you messed up hyperventilating on the floor for hours.
No one came in for the rest of your shift. You doodled more riddler, but this time it was just him. Just the mask and the jacket and the gloves. The not - riddler - riddler looking guy left 10 minutes before you got to go home. With a small smile and a 20 dollar tip, he made his way out the door. Your insides still felt heavy, your organs dense, but the mans kindness still made you smile to yourself. You took the tip and tried to split it with jack, but he had already left when you checked the kitchen. Probably at a party - he was two years younger than you were and a freshman in college, his earnings from the diner were always financed back into house parties, movies with friends, beer. You liked him. He was kind of a stereotype but he was a great coworker, pleasant, responsible, funny. With some disappointment you realized you hadnt chatted much before he left. You were too focused on -
yeah, you two hadn't talked a lot.
Sadness colored your movement as you put on your jacket and your messenger bag. Tonight you guessed you would wear headphones, listen to some leathermouth and blow off some steam. Front door - locked. Lights - off. Kitchen stuff - off. Back door - locked. You walked out the back and started walking back to your apartment.
Something felt off - like someone was looking at you. You spun around as you walked, checking to make sure no one was following you, the street was empty. The music you were playing drowned out the noises of the street and the cars, the night air was cool on the back of your neck. You looked out at the street as you walked. As much as you sort of hated gotham, the lights were night. Neon signs, cars, apartments, all gave off light like fireflies when it got dark. Even though you did miss the way the night sky seemed to be endless, black and void where you grew up, you liked it here too. The light pollution made you feel like you weren't alone.
All at once you felt leather covering your mouth, someone pulling you into an alleyway, and the feeling of being clamped by two arms to a warm body. You bit the hand but it didnt do anything, you just tasted leather and heard the person behind you snicker. Screaming didn't do anything and your attacker was too strong for you to properly loosen the grip he had on you - after a while you didn't have enough energy to kick or shake around anymore.
They held you close to them as you both breathed heavily, his were deeper than yours even though he hadnt been the one fighting for the last five minutes, you both just stood there and panted for what felt like hours.
The person holding you smelled like an old laboratory. Dust, cleaner, bleach, chemical.
You tried to speak.
"What now?"
It just came out as a muffled, garbled "wha whww".
A deep voice whispered in your ear -
"My footfalls make no sound yet Im quite a big thing, some people like me, some people hate the uncertainty I bring, when im around people often give presents, sometimes im good and sometimes im menace.
What am I?"
Your eyes went wide and you smiled into his glove out of relief.
"Riddler?"
He giggled behind you.
"Silly, that's not the answer."
You thought about asking him to cut to the chase, let you go, but he'd probably get mad if you didn't amuse him and give him a response.
After a minute you had your answer.
"Surprises?"
"Correct!"
With that he released you, you stumbled away from him and tried to regain your balance. You took a deep breath in and slowly turned back around to look at the man in the mask.
Your gaze swept over him, taking everything in. Your spit on the palm of his left glove, the worn combat boots wet from the rain, the glasses.
The glasses. The same one's the man in the diner wore. Guess he underestimated how smart you were. As you locked eyes with him you realized he was smiling.
"What do you think?"
You felt the corners of your mouth quirk up as you answered.
"It's beautiful."
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2-guns-b1tch · 8 months
Text
Talk to Me Masterlist
Rating: Explicit +18
Pairing: Arkham! Riddler x (F) Reader
Synopsis: The ticking of the clock is the only sound that fills the room. You keep your eyes fixed on the pointer, anxiety consuming you inside. At any moment your patient would arrive. At any moment, Edward Nygma, better known as the Riddler, would be brought into his therapy session with you.
You are the new therapist of Edward Nygma, aka the Riddler. You believe everybody deserves a second chance and your mission is to help Edward to become a better man. But there are some dark things happening at Arkham Asylum that will be brought out into the light and will change everything.
(Trigger warnings are listed in the beginning of each chapter)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
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melodylovesklitzy · 2 years
Text
What a Trip - Edward Nashton x F!Reader
Warning: Sexual Content, language
Word Count: 1.9k
Edward had betrayed you but you two still had a trip planned, you couldn't just let a perfectly good trip go to waste.
You and Edward had this planned for months, it was too late to back out now. The trip had cost the both of you quite a bit of money and you both were determined to go on the trip no matter what. When you had found out Edward had some kind of mistress the plan didn’t change. Edward had no idea how you had found out about the women, he had tried everything to hide her from you. He didn’t even know himself why he had the mistress, he blamed it on some feeling of wanting to have multiple people be completely in love with him. He had been crushed over your lack of affection since you found out, he understood why but he craved your touch more than anything. He promptly dropped the mystery woman and begged you to forgive him, but you didn’t listen. He gave you every excuse in the book and you were having none of it. 
“God Edward! Fuck off! Go fuck that other woman, clearly I wasn’t enough for you!” was a common sentence you said when the two of you would fight. 
You were kind enough to let him continue staying with you only with the rules of: he had to pay rent, he had to stay in the guest room, and he had to stay away from you. He didn’t really follow the last rule and took every opportunity to speak to you. He begged you to speak to him, he desperately needed to hear your voice. He missed hearing you praise him for little things, like keeping the apartment clean or getting the mail. Now you basically ignored everything he said to you, the only time you guys would talk is when you were yelling at him for cheating on you. 
He missed your voice so much, especially when you were praising him in between desperate whines and moans. God he could barely take listening to you at night, soft moans occasionally slipping out, some would be cut off with small screams. He knew you were stuffing yourself full with the toy he had bought you not too long ago. He had pressed his back against the wall closest to your room and had a hand around his cock desperately thrusting into it imagining it was you or your mouth. His hand was placed on his mouth, trying so hard to keep the noises in but some would slip out on accident. You knew he was doing it, you knew you shouldn’t enjoy it but you did. You enjoyed the power you had over him, you knew he loved you and wanted to be close to you, but something in your brain couldn’t let you forgive him.
However you also did love him, you wanted to be close to him, god you wanted him to fuck you again. Edward was very inexperienced, the only experience he had was from you and god he was a quick learner. He knew you like the back of his hand and would do anything in his power to have you screaming in seconds. You would sometimes moan his name softly hoping he wouldn’t hear but oh would he hear. He thrived on those moments, hearing you moan his name gave him the small bit of confidence to talk to you constantly, and you secretly enjoyed it. The two of you had been like this for months, you hadn’t filed for divorce, neither of you had the strength to fully leave each other. 
Months passed and the day of the trip showed up quicker than the both of you thought it would. You had plans to spend most of your time on the bench, trying to soak up the glorious sun. That had all changed the moment you walked into the hotel room. You had changed the booking to be a two bedroom but the hotel must have messed something up because when you walked in you saw Edward awkwardly standing in front of the single bed, he looked like he was debating with himself on what to do. 
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Edward spun around quickly to look at you, he was taken aback by your statement.
“What? No of course not, if anything I’d take the couch.”
“I don’t care who takes what Edward, as long as we’re not next to each other I don’t care.”
God would you eat those words later.
You had set your suitcase down, taking out the bikini you had packed so you could go to the beach. You had plans to lay in the sun that were calling your name and you desperately needed to get away from Edward. His green eyes watched your figure move across the room, from the far side where you had decided to lay your stuff to the opposite side where the bathroom resided. He tried to distract himself, he did, he had packed a good book that he was reading. He was hoping to finish it over the trip, he hadn’t even gotten half way through the first page when you came out of the bathroom in your tiny forest green bikini. God the color perfectly matched his riddler suit, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to a dark place as his pants grew tighter. You walked back across the room to your suitcase, bending down to shuffle through the continents of the bag. When you bent down he could see a slight outline of your pussy and even a bit of it due to the lack of material in the area. God he could feel himself whimper at the sight.
“I’m going to the beach, don’t call.”
With that you walked out the hotel room, leaving with his imagination and his hand.
When you came back to the room, it was empty. You assumed Edward had left until you started to hear sounds in the bathroom, the sounds of a woman’s moans hit you straight in the chest, in your heart. You thought he loved you and yet here he was. On YOUR guys trip, fucking another woman. Tears had begun to form in your eyes as you ran to the other side of the room, trying to grab things as quickly as you could until you heard your own voice, and a moan of your name. Curiosity got the better of you and you peaked your head into the cracked bathroom door, the room was dark except for the light from a laptop that rested on the bathroom counter. The laptop displayed a video of you and Edward fucking, you had remembered recording it but didn’t think Edward still had it. The light from the laptop perfectly lit up Edward’s face, which was scrunched. His eyes were tightly shut and his mouth was hanging open, soft moans were leaving his mouth. One hand was gripping the edge of the counter while the other was gliding up and down his cock. You could tell he was close from his body language, like his trembling legs, unstead hand moments, and even him softly saying “god i’m gonna cum, gonna cum for you baby. Wanna cum all over you y/n.” You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t say it had turned you on. 
You backed away from the door slightly, wondering what to do when you had froze in your spot. 
“Come on princess, I know you’re there, help me out would you?”
You didn’t think twice before pushing the bathroom door and flipping the lights on. There Edward stood, staring at the ceiling, slowly dragging his hand across his cock. His pants pooled on the floor and on his feet, the laptop laid open on the counter but the video was paused. You carefully stepped further into the bathroom, and slowly sunk to your knees in front of the man. You lifted your hand to meet his cock and wrapped your fingers around him, he looked down at you. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you began to move your hand up and down his shaft, starting at a slow pace. He gave you a small smirk before letting out a soft moan and looking back up at the ceiling. He had removed his hand from himself and placed it in your hair, making a makeshift ponytail from the locks he grabbed. He lightly pushed you forward, and you got the hint, taking him into your mouth and moving up and down quickly. His groans increased in volume and a few words that consisted of your name and “fuck so good” also fell from his lips. You roughly pulled you back from his cock by your hair and yanked you up to be standing in front of him. The man didn’t have a ton of upper body strength and yet somehow he managed to lift you into his arms and carry you to the single bed in the room.
“You don’t wanna sleep in the same bed? Such a shame, good thing I didn’t plan on having either of us sleep tonight.”
He pulled the bikini cover off your body and then roughly pushed the bottoms to the side. He lightly ran his finger between your folds before grabbing himself and lining himself up with you. He slowly pushed into you, moaning at the warmth that surrounded him. He quickly set a pace with you, thrusting in and out, making you borderline scream his name and drag your nails along his back. He had buried his head into your shoulder and let out heavy pants, along with moans of your name and how good you felt around him. His hand moved from the side of your head to your bikini top, moving it to the side and uncovering one of your tits. He moved his head from your shoulder and quickly took your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. You moaned at the feeling, everything began to build up. The pleasure was too much and it had you cumming around him, but he didn’t stop. He continued to thrust into you and suck on your boob, quickly removing the cover of the other and moving to the other one. The overstimulation had you cumming again in no time, but yet Edward still didn’t stop. This continued several more times, you had lost count of how many times you had cum after the 4th one. It had been hours by this point and Edward had only came 3 times at max. The man was determined to fuck you until you were brain dead, and he was getting close to that point.
By the time had had finished fucking you your legs might as well have been jelly. You couldn’t move them and Edward had to reposition your body to a comfortable lying position. He snuggled in beside you after cleaning you and him up as well as tucking you into the bed. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest. The man truly did love you, and unfortunately for you, you loved him too.
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wishfullyeternal · 2 years
Text
Riddler x Reader- Kidnapped
Tumblr media
Riddler x Reader- Kidnapped
Words- 1,198
Warnings- Heavy violence, dubcon elements, literal kidnapping (see title) language
A/N- Sorry for the big space randomly, formatting shit lol. I've been obsessed with The Riddler for a while now, and finally got around to writing something about him. Hopefully he sounds correct. Thinking about making this a dubcon smut kinda thing, but I wanna see how y'all like it first. Please comment if you'd like more! As always, requests are open and love you lovelies! <3
“I can smell the fear on you,” The Riddler started, drumming his fingers on the edge of his coat. “God, it’s so intoxicating…” He took a deep breath, chest swelling. The sound of his breathing was muffled by the mask, but you could tell he was coming closer to where you were. Wedged between an old washer and dryer in the abandoned warehouse on the edge of Gotham city. It wasn’t your first choice of hiding, but it was the closest. You breathed silently and tried to even it out as best as possible in order not to draw attention.
“What has twenty-one eyes… But cannot see.” The Riddler's voice is even closer and you can tell he is faced in your direction. His boots clack across the floor, his pace never changing. From where you were, you couldn’t tell how close he was, but there wasn’t any way he could find you. You were completely silent. “Come out come out wherever you are!” He laughed, high pitched voice reverberating throughout the warehouse. It’s becoming harder and harder to decipher where he is due to the amount of cortisol and adrenaline rushing through your veins. “You still have yet to solve my riddle dearest…” He trails off, and his footsteps begin to disappear. You move your head as quietly as you can, wanting to look above you and gain a sense of some of your surroundings. In a horrible twist of events, you accidentally let your foot slip, and the sound of rubber on metal echoes loudly throughout the entire space. The Riddler chuckles. “Oh dear, it seems you’ve made a grave mistake.” His footsteps come forward and pause before beginning to grunt and move the washer, revealing your coiled-up body in between. After scrambling to get up you try and escape from him, but his hand catches your jacket hood and slams you back into him, all of the wind knocked out of your lungs. “Right where you belong sweetie,” He says, quickly restraining your arms by placing a lanky hand over them. The other hand lands on your throat, tilting your head unnaturally up. Your back is pressed against him even though you are struggling so hard to get away. You kick at him, and he loses his grip for just a second. You take the opportunity to bite his arm hard and feel the flesh give way to your teeth. Blood pours into your mouth, warm and thick. He curses, yet digs his other hand underneath your collarbone, making you yelp in pain. He pulls his arm from your mouth, and pushed you roughly to the ground, again knocking the wind out of you. At this point, your breathing was never going to steady. Your chest was burning, and the thought of running away was fruitless.
“Oh yes,” The Riddler drew out his words, finding a perverse pleasure in your suffering. He pushes his boot onto your back, pinning you to the ground. You heard him rustle for something in his pocket, and when you try to get away from him, he only puts more weight on you. “A die!” You yell, The Riddler pauses and again laughs through his muffled mask. “I’m impressed, you are correct. A die has twenty-one faces, yet cannot see.” He seems almost disappointed, and further explains while loudly ripping large pieces of duct tape. He attaches one right above his wound, blood soaking through the army green fabric. At the same time, he roughly pins your wrists behind you, attaching an obscene amount of tape to keep them together. “Thank goodness you got the riddle, I really didn’t want to kill you.” Your breath hitched in your throat. If he didn’t want to kill you, why was he still restraining you? Why was he still so infatuated with you? “Now, let’s get you somewhere else, wouldn’t want to ruin a pretty face on a concrete floor…” You felt him smile, and lift you up by your wrists with little effort. The strain on your shoulders made you wince and take in a sharp breath. “I’m gonna do things to you, I wouldn’t do to a farm animal…” The Riddler's humble abode was most definitely humble. Sparse furniture, paired with little to no decorations. It seemed like a place where he would do nothing but sleep, and maybe plan out his devious plans. There was no sense of personality or uniqueness to the space, it simply existed. “Why am I here?” You asked, The Riddler ripped another piece of duct tape and slapped it onto your mouth, making sure that he could do it in the most painful way possible. He made sure to wipe his hands all over your face. The lingering smell of salty sweat on your face making you gag. You struggled again and your eyes were wide in fear. Sweat beaded at your forehead, slowly dripping down your face, loosening the tape. “Alright, let’s get down to business. I’ve been watching you for quite some time now, and you fascinate me.” He pointed his finger at you, gently tracing the edge of your jawline. You were forced to sit down on the cold floor, legs and wrists bound tightly by duct tape. “First of all,” He clapped his hands together softly and you could hear him smile through the mask. “I think you are one of the most interesting people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting” He sighed, almost sounding like a groan. “You are just, amazing!” He sounds like a kid on his birthday and seems very excited to get on with whatever he had in store. His voice cracked a little with how much excitement he had hidden behind it. You felt the sweat begin to loosen the tape on your face more, before finally moving around your lips to take it off. “What the fuck are you going to do to me?” It wasn’t loud, you didn’t want to make him angry. “You women are so easy, you always ask the same questions.” He turned away from you, rustling in a dark green bag and fumbling for something metal. “They say a woman threatened by a knife is less likely to try and escape than a woman threatened by a gun…” You shuddered, The Riddler pulling out a large hunting knife and aiming it at your throat. You pushed you head back against the wall, the Riddler making sure to keep his distance as close as physically possible. "You looked so confident before, what happened?" He asked, thrusting the edge of the knife to your neck. "Please don't kill me…" The whites of your eyes were showing and you tried to look around the find something, anything to defend yourself. "Oh god," He rolled his eyes, "Not this again-" He suddenly turned around and in one fluid motion hurled the knife at the drywall. The knife stuck perfectly straight. "I'll do anything… Just please let me live." The Riddler paused, putting a long finger to his chin. "Anything?" You nodded quickly. "Oh boy, will I have fun with you!" He clapped his hands together and jumped up, giddy like a school-kid.
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imagine--if · 8 months
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(A/N: The results for my Riddler fanfic poll was basically 50/50 😂 so this is based off of the last issue of Riddler Year One, #6, as I copied the intro to the comic, but I'll work up to the movie too 😊 enjoy!!)
Wordcount: 1.7K
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A knock at the door. Silence.
You frown slightly, glancing at the clock. It's late, really late, for anyone to be calling for you. You're not expecting anyone, and you're used to the trouble that comes with living in the middle of Gotham City, giving you every reason not to answer the door and stay quiet until whoever it is gets bored and goes away.
Another knock, sounding a little desperate, five soft bangs on the door's study steel, echoing through your small stretch of hallway and to the main room, where you sit on the sofa, laptop on your lap, scrolling boredly. You stare at the door warily, as if you could somehow see through to whatever drophead was trying to get your attention, before hesitantly raising your voice in answer.
"Who is it?"
Silence again.
You roll your eyes and sigh after a beat of nothing, pushing your laptop off you and onto the sofa, quietly approaching the door and taking a sceptical look through the peephole. Nothing. No one. Just the hard bright light of the dirty stairway and landing of the floor in the apartment block you live in, which snaps off after no motion to keep it alive, and the door opposite you, shut and locked, no sound coming from anywhere except muffled music and arguing from somewhere downstairs, as per normal here.
You go to open the door, but then pause, cautious enough to wait it out for a while, five minutes, ten minutes, before letting yourself open it and look outside. You don't want to be the next poor person who gets robbed or jumped or whatever rank thing you could expect from living down in Gotham, but there's still no one to greet you when your door squeaks faintly as you pull it open, black bristles dragging across the floor from beneath it. You wince slightly as the harsh light blinks back on, revealing an empty landing, empty staircase, nothing but your breaths echoing in the space...
And an envelope at your feet.
Your frown deepens when you go to close the door again and notice it, lying there outside the door, a medium white envelope inked with a messy green symbol of some kind. A question mark, with dashes at its sides, top and bottom, scratching into the paper boldly, no name or address or postmark anywhere, nothing to indicate where it came from or who it's for. But it's at your door, and after a few seconds' inspection and another look down the landing and the stairs, you sigh and pick it up, your thumb sliding under the triangular fold as you close the door with your body whilst opening it.
There are two things sealed in this envelope.
A Polaroid picture... and a card.
You sit down with your eyes fixed on the envelope's contents, laptop ignored at your side, as you take out the card first. It's like some kind of vintage cartoon, a little beaming squirrel holding one nut in its paws, a few others at its feet, a heart around its body. Above it, bold calligraphic text says:
I'm NUTS about you!
Your face screws up in bewilderment and amusement, your eyes flitting over the cheesy sentiment and picture, before you open it up to see contrasting, messy handwriting, gone over a few times to make it readable enough. It almost looks childish.
The rich people want it, wise people know it, the poor people need it, and kind people show it. What am I?
You blink, confused at the sudden question. A riddle? You glance at the question symbol on the opened envelope, before returning your attention to the card.
"Rich people want it..." you mutter under your breath in thought, "kind people- what, love?"
You read the last bit of writing under the riddle, then read it again. And again.
I see you work with the rats, but you don't become one. I see you give the homeless something warm when the city is cold, cold, COLD. I see you trying to tell the police the bad things you know, but no one can hear us. You are an angel in a cesspool of a city... And I will make a heaven for you.
You let out a long, shaky breath, finally looking up from the card in a whirl of confusion, fear and curiosity. Your eyes instinctively glance to the windows, the curtains open a little to show the dreary, dark nightlife of Gotham below, dully glowing streetlamps, some lightbulbs dead or smashed, interrupting the neat lines guiding drivers. You almost expect to see a pair of eyes staring at you, watching you from somewhere.
Who the hell is this person? This was the way they showed their 'love'? A sixties-styled valentines card, with a riddle and a baffling message?
"Working with rats?" You question aloud.
If by rats, they meant the jerks and businessmen who came to the Iceberg Lounge to find clients and friends every other evening, then... well, they weren't wrong. You have to work there to earn enough to pay rent and everything else to make some kind of a life for yourself in Gotham. Not that you wanted to, but it was a last resort, and you steered clear of the infamous Penguin, and that horrible Falcone character, whenever you were there. But you can't help overhearing things to the grabby, drunken, smug people you waitress to there, but at this point, you'd learnt that half the GCPD weren't nearly as credible as they acted, a handful of them involved in the scandals they were brewing at the nightclub, and who else was there to tell without them telling the wrong guy and ending with you being silenced at gunpoint?
As for the homeless, believe it or not, they weren't all off their heads with drops. Some of them were just people trying to survive out on the streets of a broken-down town, young and older people cowering on street corners, some beaten by gangs, others jumpy and aware, ready to run at the smallest hint of danger. It was the ones who were simply too tired to do anything that made you stop in your tracks every now and then, as you walked home from work, before you gave in to your impulses, told them to give you a minute, and dashed into the nearest diner, grabbing something small to eat, or a hot drink to-go, the waiter bored and friendly enough to give you a smile and a nod as you went, the young man who often stayed there scribbling in a little book or typing up work-related things too shy to meet your eye, which was kind of cute, sandy-brown hair barely hiding the flush of his round cheeks, murky green eyes forced to focus on his book instead of looking up.
Was that enough to make you an angel? Really?
A few acts of kindness usually earned you a judgemental scoff, or suspicions of intentions, as no one's were really ever pure. But apparently, it's earned you an admirer, and from the looks of things, one who's more than a little unhinged.
You pick up the Polaroid last of all, and then your breath catches in shock as you stare at it, barely blinking.
It's a guy who's been making moves on you for a good few weeks now, more than double your age, packets of drops making his pockets rustle with thin plastic and his eyes unfocused. A frequent visitor to the Iceberg Lounge, who wouldn't leave you alone after you gave him his first drink of the first night, running drunkenly outside to offer you a lift when you put your arm out for a cab, trying to hold onto some part of the uncomfortably tight clothing you were expected to wear working in a place like the Iceberg Lounge.
He's slumped against a wall covered with some kind of fabric spray painted with the same question mark symbol on the envelope, though the green is blemished with crimson spatter, a rat running across his leg, blurred slightly in the shot. A laptop is in the background, where the ordeal is actually being filmed or streamed somewhere, names and comments too small in the picture to make out, though several unfocused red shapes that are most likely hearts streak up the laptop screen from its viewers. Your stomach twists and untwists into a knot, repulsed and shocked.
They killed some stupid guy... for you?
They killed a person, on a livestream... for you.
The Polaroid slips from your loosened grip, fluttering in the air for a split second before it lands beside your laptop. It makes you blink back into awareness, and you eye the card and Polaroid as if they might jump up at you.
Do you call the police? The GCPD won't ignore you, surely, if it's this level of harassment? If a person has died?
The thought of someone watching you, trying to understand you, almost worshipping you in some twisted way, brings so many thoughts and feelings up that it makes you dizzy, not knowing what to pin down as your reaction to it. Scared? Disgusted? Flattered? Curious?
What if they've been in your apartment? If they know where you live... and with Gotham's measly security, someone like this person could have found a way to break in, pick the lock or something. Is anything out of place? Hidden cameras anywhere?
Paranoia makes a shiver snake down your spine, and you sigh heavily, fingers threading through and out of your hair as you run your hands up your face and past your head.
First, check for cameras. Then, call the police. Right?
Right...
You pick up the Polaroid from beside your laptop, and your eyes flick up to the darkened screen, the small black circle of a camera at its top. Should you put some tape over it or something? Do a deep scan to check for viruses or any weird apps?
Suddenly, the screen flashes brighter, back to life, though you never touched the mousepad, and you flinch. Your eyes widen as the screen glitches and goes black, and you press down on several keys, trying to escape from whatever page it's gone on, power it off, restart.
The screen glitches for a few more moments, and then a green, pixelated question mark between some pointers slides across the screen.
Figured it out yet?
⭒❃.✮:▹ 𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ◃:✮.❃⭒ (message me know if you want to be removed. ghost blogs/dead accs have been removed.)
@misadventures0fdes @junebugp @simestandswithtaylorswift-blog @carley-carley-carley @lostbunn @dragovegogrimborn @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @edwardspumpkinpie @murderbimbo00 @sweetums0kitty @beel-mcburger @cml-san @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @bimboanime @phoenixgurl030 @dangerouslittlefairy @yoyoanaria @yaeyuuki @vinxlsketches @beenz-beenz @ghoulsgraveyard @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @r3ptiliaaa @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowersleep @hxney-lemcn @callsigncrash @bokksieu @skateb0red @philiasoul@felicityofbakerstreet @deadlights-darling @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell
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finniestoncrane · 7 months
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To Use And Abuse
Dano!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 2k Part 2 Here! commission: eddie breaks into the apartment of his no.1 fan to test how much they love him 🐀💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: humiliation/degradation, dubcon if you consider the fact he broke in, public sex/streamed sex
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The notification lit up your phone. You hadn’t quite been aware of how dark it had become around you as you stared blankly at your TV until the sudden flash temporarily blinded you. But you could forgive the brief headache it caused when you saw what the notification was for. The two words that were sure to make your evening, regardless of what the day had been like, what your plans were, or where you were when they flashed up on the screen.
Incoming Stream
Luckily, you weren’t exactly the most social these days. It was hard to keep up with friends, or even make any, in Gotham. And those that you could get close to were always the first ones to leave. If you were lucky. Otherwise, it was a never-ending succession of funerals, where you were so numbed by constant grief that it was impossible to cry. No friends, Gotham had taken them from you. But luckily, one man was seeking revenge on your behalf. On everyone’s behalf, actually.
Shifting from your sofa to the second-hand and cluttered desk in the corner of your studio apartment, you set yourself up on the kitchen chair that you used for work. You could feel your heart rate rising as you waited for your shitty laptop to come to life, the browser already opening on the login page for the stream you were so excited for. And after a few moments of darkness, there he was. Dimly lit, covered in his mask and glasses. Commanding your attention. The Riddler.
A moniker he had only come up with the week before, it suited him so well. Gotham’s newest vigilante, a man who worked in puzzles and hints, a man who was a problem solver, not one who created them.
Giddy with almost schoolgirl glee, you leaned your elbows on the desk, your chin in your hands, and sighed as you stared at the screen. You were enthralled by him. In love with him really, or whatever was closest to love that you could experience with a stranger through a monitor. So much so that you could picture yourself, filtered in rose hue, a delicate glissando playing from nowhere as you drew a heart around his face with your finger. It felt like a sickeningly sweet moment from a romcom each time you were graced with the honour of listening to one of his sermons. All you wanted was to offer him your adoration and praise.
So, as you did each week, you began to type your feelings into the chat.
Your sermons mean so much to me. You’re truly like a preacher. You speak the good word. There is no God, there is no Gotham, only The Riddler. I worship you. I want to praise you at your feet. You’re our saviour.
Was it overkill? Maybe. But you were desperate for his attention. And not once had he ever given it to you. Others had been given a shout out when they had something to input, but your zealous and continued support and love were overlooked. It was becoming disheartening, but you were far from giving up. If anything, it only made you want him more.
And you knew how ridiculous that was, but far be it from you to care. Not now, not after months of dedicated lust and desire. Even after the stream had ended, you stayed on the site, staring at the empty, black screen. You could make out your reflection. Pathetic, desperate, delusional maybe. Scrolling through the chat, you scowled at the accolades and compliments that were delivered to everyone but you over the course of the brief time that he had been on the screen.
Eventually, you decided to close the tab, instead reverting to your second favourite hobby of scouring through articles about him. His exploits, so much speculation about his identity and his meaning, his future and the potential behind him, comparisons between him and the Batman. So few pictures of him outside of some lazy screencaps. But you were happy to stare at them for hours. You had, in fact. By the time you looked at the clock at the bottom of the screen, two hours had passed.
Reaching up to stretch, mindful of your horrid posture, you were caught on the inhale of a yawn as two hands reached around you. One clamped your mouth, stifling a quick to form scream, the other pressed tight to your sternum, keeping you still.
“You’re shorter than I imagined. Exactly as pathetic as I thought though. Your living arrangements almost make mine seem pleasant.”
You recognised his voice instantly, your ears and brain immediately catching on, your heart following quickly behind as its pace quickened, blood pumping vigorously, pulse insane, breath shallow and ragged.
“Oh my god… is it really you?”
He let out a soft giggle, his fingers tensing where they held you.
“You tell me, sweetie.”
Letting go of you finally, he watched as you sank into the chair and fell to the floor, clumsily pulling yourself up to stand in front of him. You couldn’t tell what his expression was below the mask, but you could only imagine it was a cruel grin from the way his eyes lit up behind his glasses.
“How… How did you… my door was locked… There was no information on my account… Everything was behind so many layers of security.”
 “Oh-ho-ho! You silly thing. Did you not realise I’d find you?”
“How… How did-”
“Because I’m not a fucking idiot! That’s how. Did you really think you were protected by your pathetic security measures? That site was my kingdom!”
His voice flitted from the tones of anger to a lilting tune, as he delivered the next words in a taunting singsong, wagging his finger with the tempo of the tune.
“And I know everything that goes on in there.”
As you stuttered over confusion, trying to decide if you were more scared or more excited that the object of your obsessive desires was in front of you, he shook his head and sighed.
“Not quite the welcome I expected, a bit of a let-down like everything else in this world. I thought you said you wanted me here?”
He was stifling a giggle, his voice pitched high and strung with giddy glee.
“You do want me here, right? You weren’t lying? Because, heh…” the brief pause that he took to scoff, a derisive laughter that seemed to come from a place of sincere contempt, had you trembling slightly. Whether with anticipation, excitement or genuine terror you couldn’t be sure. Likely all three.
“…you know how I feel about liars!”
The sharp increase in volume was unexpected, but it was the way that he grabbed your waist and pushed you against the wall that made you choke on your breath. The gasp brought sharp and freezing cold air into your throat, not quite reaching your lungs. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, a deep heat spreading through your abdomen, a distinct throb in your clit as you fought the urge to toss your head back and beg him to take you there and then.
Staring back at him, his eyes glinting, the only part of his face you could make out, you bit at your lip. Hidden behind the thick material was a hidden stranger, someone you might never know. He could be anyone, and the thrill of mystery had you salivating. You instinctively leaned into it. He was so unpredictable, committed to danger. There was no telling how wrong this could go if you displayed your desire to submit to him. But you couldn’t help yourself.
“I-I’m not lying… I do want you here. I’m glad you’re here!”
Taking note of the tone in your voice, he felt his heart flutter. You weren’t lying, you were sincere. And you were his for the taking, as evidenced by how desperate you looked, how wide your pupils were, the way your chest heaved, back arching against the wall towards him.
“Then show me.”
His leather-gloved hands were on your shoulders, pushing you to your knees, and you followed easily putting up no fight. Once you were on the ground, you stared up at him expectantly, ready to obey his next command.
“Bow down then, worship me.”
As you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, you felt the sudden pressure of his weight between your shoulders. He pushed you down further, your chest and stomach flush with the ground, his heavy boot refusing to let up.
“Lick them.”
You looked up at him, expecting to meet his eye, the view blocked instead by his cell phone which pointed down at you. It was difficult to avoid the lens as it focused on you, recording your sudden flushed cheeks and trembling lip.
“Show them all how great you think I am. Lick my boots, that’s what you’re all about, huh?”
He watched you staying there, completely still, clearly in need of some more encouragement.
“Or are you suddenly so shy?”
He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, straining his ear towards you, placing a hand behind it dramatically.
“Hm? I can’t hear you, little princess. Speak up. Or start licking.”
Still unsure of what to do, your mind telling you to hold off a moment longer, your body trying to follow his demands with foolish zeal, your hesitation brought out a softer side of him. With the camera of his phone still pointed directly at you, he lowered himself briefly to you. His gloved hand brushed your dark bangs away from your face briefly, his wide eyes fixed on yours as he thumbed your cheek. And his voice was surprisingly gentle and cooing, in contrast to the sickening words that it spoke.
“Don’t embarrass yourself in front of the stream. I’m sure they already think you’re a pathetic little slut, you don’t want them to think you’re an idiot too. Or are you? Are you just a stupid girl whose desperate cunt gets hot and wet and throbs at the first sign of a man who takes action?”
You could feel yourself nodding, agreeing with him despite your own morals and ethics shouting against it.
“Well, that’s good news then! Be the stupid little bitch you are and start. Licking. My. Boots.”
You looked directly into the lens of the camera before lowering yourself, determined to give them a show. Committed to letting everyone, not just the Riddler, know how keen you were to please him. And staring into his eyes, you pressed your tongue out, mouth wide and ready. And finally, you let the tip flick over the toe of his boots. A sensation he surely wouldn’t have felt through the thick material, but which made him throw his head back with a sigh regardless.
With a moan, you covered more of the surface area in your saliva, satisfied, body aching with want as you listened to his breath hitch. It stopped suddenly though, his head lowering back down to catch your eyes, his hand on the back of your head, pulling you up.
“See? That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. That’s a good, stupid, pathetic girl. And who do you worship? Who do you belong to?”
“You, sir.”
As you nodded, he mimicked you, his nods more frantic, almost cruel in the way he seemed to be mocking you. Soothing over your cheek with his hand before slapping it twice, you could see the edges of his mask shift as he smiled wide.
“What a good little bitch you are.”
Hooking his thumb over your bottom lip, he felt his chest hitch as you began sucking it. Clearly well trained, even if he had no part in it. There was a lot to you that he was keen to explore, physically and mentally. There was every chance that you would make the perfect subservient captive, a plaything to relieve his stress at the end of a busy day of his own brand of vigilante justice. His disgusting, pathetic slut. His to use and abuse. And you’d probably thank him for it. The thought of which sent a twitch through his cock, which had begun to harden the minute you had opened your whorish mouth and done exactly as he’d commanded. If only the rest of Gotham would bend to his will so easily.
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astrok1dz · 7 months
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fuck it I'm back AND SO IS MY RIDDLER OBSESSION SO SEND REQUEST YOU FILTHY FUCKERS
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Bestie we need a part two 💳💥💥💳💥💥💳💳💥💥💳💳💳 ASAP u can’t leave this beautifully made fanfic without a  sequel, this made me kick my feet in the air and giggle like schoolgirl 😀 lolll I’m down bad for Eddie/riddler
yo call me FedEx because I deliver (not sure this the package you wanted tho)
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Imagine the Riddler being your secret admirer. - Part 2
[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
What you thought was a single, queer occasion, became something regular. The notes and cards would appear every other day and soon you found yourself expecting them with excitement. You had your own little, deliciously sweet secret. Realizing how the situation might look to others, you didn't dare tell anyone else about the strangeness you've been a part of - they wouldn't understand. People were quick to jump to conclusions, to assume the worst of others even if there was no malice. Just like there was none in the bizarre friendship or relationship, you had with someone whose identity you couldn't even begin to guess.
The question of the secret admirer's identity was something that wouldn't let you sleep. Some occurrences were too tailored to you and your mundane life for the enigmatic person to be someone completely estranged. Like that one day when the whole world seemed to be against you and nothing would go the way you wanted, you found a cinnamon bun with a birthday candle at your doorstep. So whoever they were, they simply cared.
Was there a piece of you that remained wary? Yes, of course, there was - if your life did not transform into a chick flick, it sure became a good buildup to a horror movie. That part of you, however, was silent most of the time. After all, what kind of malice, if any, could reside in a heart of someone who showered you with small gifts and words of affection?
That day, you were greeted with a bouquet of pink and red flowers strung together with raffia. A small tag was tied to the decoration:
What flowers are kissable?
You looked closer at the flowers in the bouquet - they were all of one kind...
"Tulips?" you slowly said to yourself. You couldn't help but laugh. "God, you're so corny."
Shaking your head with amusement, you entered your apartment and went straight to your bedside table to change one mysterious bouquet for another. The previous flowers barely even began to wilt.
"Wish you had a name," you said as your hand caressed the tag attached to the flowers.
Having let out a heavy sigh, you decided to change into something more comfortable. You let your thoughts wander, conjuring up various possibilities about the secret admirer, as you took off your top and pants - completely oblivious to the lovesick voyeur following each of your steps.
He felt a little ashamed for not immediately looking away. But, in the end, it wasn't his fault, was it? How could he ever be blamed for succumbing to your luring beauty? Could sailors truly be responsible for following the siren's song?
Although his eyes were still fixed on you, his mind was already fantasizing about the next gift he should make for you but most importantly - the little wish you had made that he couldn't help but grant. Truthfully, Ed couldn't deny you anything; he was but a humble servant to your ethereal glory.
The next day, when you were about to leave the comfort of your home and face the responsibilities of the real world, you found another envelope laying on the doormat outside your front door. Inside, there was another cheesy card to add to your abundant collection. This one, however, did not have a riddle written on it but a torn-out page from what looked like a vintage collection of poems:
My lady hath of charms her lion’s share; Grace, beauty, wit and a sweet thoughtfulness, Which rests serenely on her gentle face, Sweet as the flowers are, and pure as air.
Below the ripped-out page was a small scribble that made you audibly gasp, although softly: '- Ed'.
"So you do have a name... Eddie." You smiled to yourself feeling how easily the name rolled off your tongue.
His heart stopped for a moment. The world grew silent and the only thing that mattered, truly mattered, was the soft affection with which you spoke his name.
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lost-in-sokovia · 1 year
Text
figure it out
the one where you tell the boy you’ve been hooking up with that you’re pregnant.
warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, allusions to smut, mentions of abortion, pregnancy
it was just like a movie.
you were crying quietly on the floor of your dorm, holding the little plastic pregnancy test in your shaky hands. there was no denying the bold “pregnant +” that was staring back at you, your mind in a million places as your stomach twisted and flipped.
you had only known edward since september, only four months. he had started out as a tutor for you— well, the intent had started out as him tutoring you, but your “study sessions” had often turned into other things. he was cute, light brown hair, soft and round face, clear-framed glasses in front of his green doe eyes, and a voice that stuttered but was soft and sweet. he was also incredibly intelligent, which is why you had sought his help in the first place.
you had told edward that you weren’t looking for a real relationship — this was just casual. it might’ve broken the poor boy’s heart to hear you say that, because he was genuinely so sweet, but he had agreed because truth be told, he would do anything just to be around you.
and now, karma due to your actions, you were pregnant with the baby who could only be eddie’s. you couldn’t remember a time when you weren’t careful no matter how hard you racked your brain. were you drunk? did the protection break? had he forgotten to put it on?
“shit, shit, shit,” you cursed shakily, a fresh front of tears sliding down your pink cheeks. you were a broke college kid knocked up with a baby from a guy you weren’t even dating. there was no good solution to the problem; abortions cost money, supporting a baby cost a lot more money for longer, and the thing you nor eddie had was money.
you hadn’t talked to eddie in a week, the pregnancy symptoms had been setting in and as soon as your brain connected the dots you gave the poor boy the cold shoulder. you felt slightly guilty, it’s not like edward had any other friends. when he nervously smiled at you in the hallway of your dorm you’d keep your eyes forward as if he wasn’t there. when he asked if you wanted to meet up you’d curtly tell him you had other things going on and walk away. now, you were faced with the task of telling him the situation. maybe he’d stop talking to you, just remove himself from the situation. maybe he’d help you scrape up enough money to get an abortion and then you two could part ways. no matter what, there seemed zero possible way you were keeping this nashton baby.
after fifteen minutes of crying it out, you had picked yourself up, your arms wrapped around yourself in your sweatshirt, and made your way slowly out your dorm to eddie’s, pregnancy test in your pocket. your face was pink and you sniffled as you pulled your hood up, shuffling down the empty hallway, fragments of leftover christmas decorations still littered the floors.
you realized you weren’t quite sure what you were going to say to him until you made it to his door. everything still felt like a fever dream, like it wasn’t real. how were you supposed to complete a comprehensive sentence, anyway? you accepted that trying to formulate a coherent thought was not going to work anyway, and you knocked on his door before you could let your brain overthink it.
edward opened the metal door quickly, in a millisecond his face going from a relieved smile to a frightened frown as he looked at your state standing right in front of him.
“h-hey,” he started carefully. he said your name gently and you felt more salty tears brim your eyelids. “what’s wrong?”
“can i come in?” you whispered brokenly. eddie nodded quickly and gestured for you to come inside, you stalking in and hoisting yourself up onto his bed. edward quickly shut the door before scrambling up next to you, unsure of what to do. it was obvious he wanted to hug you, hold your hand, something, but considering that you hadn’t spoken to him in a week, he didn’t want to cross any lines.
you sat with him on his bed, him silent and looking at you with concern as you sniffled and stared at your lap. you swallowed the lump in your throat and looked up at him, tired and numb from crying.
“i need to tell you something,” you started weakly. edward’s eyes were locked with yours and he gently nodded his head.
“okay, what is it?” he asked, trying to hold back any anxieties he felt.
it wasn’t going to get any easier to say it.
“eddie i’m pregnant,” you breathed shakily. all the color drained from edward’s face and his mouth parted. you felt like crying again, afraid of the unknown, afraid of what he was going to say. you exhaled and pulled the pregnancy test out and handed it to edward, his eyes growing wider than you thought was possible as he examined it. your stomach started twisting again, the silence so incredibly loud.
“i-i’m—“ edward tried to stutter out. you shook your head.
“i don’t know how it happened, i ran everything over in my head and i still can’t find an answer,” you answered for him. he ran a hand through his hair before he looked back up at you, his heart surely beating a thousand beats per second. “i’m sorry, eddie, i don’t know what else—“
“why are you apologizing?” he interrupted quietly. “i should be the one apologizing, i’m the one who got you pregnant.”
his humbled attitude had you broken in seconds. you started crying again and moved yourself to embrace him, him quickly wrapping his arms around you too. you started sobbing full force once again and edward stroked your hair, shakily exhaling as you nuzzled against him.
“wh-what are we gonna do?” you sobbed. edward hushed you gently and swallowed, trying to think of a somewhat calming answer for a moment.
“w-well… i’ll get another job, we’ll see if we can find an apartment right outside campus,” he replied slowly. it took you a moment to process what he was saying before you blinked and sniffled, looking up at him.
“what do you mean?” you croaked. eddie paused and took in a breath as he looked down at you like you were his entire world, confused by why you were questioning him. then you swore you felt his heart skip a beat.
“well, i mean, unless you want an abortion, of course… which i’ll also help pay for…” he muttered, melancholy lacing his tone. you were stunned; he wanted to keep this baby.
“you wanna keep it?”
“you don’t?”
the silence was so loud again as you stared at each other. you hadn’t entirely made that decision, truth be told, you had been so caught up in the oh shit moment that the future hadn’t entirely marinated in your head.
edward took a breath and licked his lips nervously. “i-it’s up to you, of course,” he added. the idea that from the second you told him you were pregnant that he assumed the two of you were keeping it made your heart soar in a way, just as the sad disappointment in his voice when you had mentioned other options caused a pang in your heartstrings. you of course would never shame a person for having an abortion; it’s each individual’s right to choose. however, in the few short minutes that you had been in edward’s arms and exchanging small sentences, the idea of having an abortion of your own wasn’t appealing.
you took a deep breath.
“we’re not even dating,” you whispered. edward bit his lip.
“i know,” he replied with that same melancholy tone that made it obvious to you that he wanted more.
“i can’t make you do this if you don’t want to,” you said. edward shook his head and hesitantly took your hands in his.
“i want to if you want to,” he replied earnestly. “i told you, i’ll get another job, save up… we’ve got nine months to figure this out.” his tone was sweet and genuine. you swore there was a glimmer of excitement and love in those green eyes of his, this lovesick boy willing to follow your every move and command.
“and over the summer? when you go back home?” you asked. edward smiled sadly.
“‘home’ isn’t really a place for me; i’ll follow you wherever, or we can’t look into an apartment together. we can sort that out later.”
edward was calm and reassuring. the way he looked at you held you in a trance and soothed your nerves, though your stomach was still knotted and your eyes were dry from crying. was all this still real?
cribs, baby blankets, baby bottles, diapers, and pacifiers danced through your head as edward swallowed, anxiously awaiting your final verdict.
“are you sure?” you questioned again. eddie scoffed and shook his head.
“it’s your call, i’m here to support you with whatever you pick,” he reminded you. you took a deep breath and nodded.
“okay,” you whispered. it was official, no matter what the future was going to bring, you had nine months to wrap your head around this baby. it was scary; nine months was both so long yet so short and you had so much to figure out as a freshman in college, just starting your second semester. but when eddie couldn’t help but smile at you and kiss your forehead, something told you it was all going to be okay. he pulled you onto him as he laid back onto his bed and you snuggled against him as he pressed kisses to your hair and whispered reassuring things to you.
teen pregnancy may have won the battle, but you were going to win the war.
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