#gotham riddler x reader

[nxtaliaistyping]

I also think that the Riddler would like a dumb reader that strokes his ego/praises him.

The Riddler + dumbification

Authors note: I love the way you think anon, I’ve been in such a riddler mood lately, I think it’s cause I’m replaying Arkham knight and I love hearing him degrade me

18+ nsfw, degradation, gn reader, facefucking

Sure, he loves to be intellectually challenged and stimulated. To be distracted from the endless dimwits of the Gotham City population, and perhaps on occasion you can provide that for him.

But he can't deny, dumbing you down does have its appeal. It strokes his ego to have a pretty thing like you looking up at him with nothing behind your eyes but sheer adoration. To know that he's the center of your whole world, your whole existence.

"I would explain what I was up to today, but i'd hate to fry that empty mind of yours." he explains, condescension dripping from his tone.

He has you on your knees, while he manspreads on the sofa so you can rest your cheek on his green pant leg. A gloved hand idly strokes your cheek, and he smirks at how you gaze up at him with wide eyes.

"You happy down there?" he asks, tapping your cheek when you just nod.

"Mhm, so good. Love being down here."

"And why is that darling?" he asks, adjusting himself as he prepares for your answer.

He hums as you praise him, and he basks in your pathetic whimpers of glorification. You tell him how handsome you think he is, but it isn't enough. Gripping your jaw tightly, he speaks.

"Yes yes, my aesthetic qualities are second to none. But do you really think that's all I want to hear?"

He can see the cogs attempting to turn in your brain, and he laughs coldly at you. But you quickly start to explain,

"You're the smartest man in Gotham."

At that utterance, his smirk widens. "Oh? Please, tell me more."

But you can't keep up with his request when he has his cock down your throat, moving you up and down by your hair. Your glassy eyes just make you more lovely to him, demonstrating just how much you're debasing yourself.

"That's it, not a thought in that head is there?" he groans out, the sloppy sounds of your saliva coating him being music to his ears. "Just concentrate on doing a good job, it's not like you have any other purpose."

You choke around him, not that it makes him slow down, before he cums down your throat with a loud moan, forcing you to swallow every bit of his load.

The look on your face when you pull off...if only Edward could take a picture, how submissive and empty headed you seem. Perhaps next time.

But he gets you on his lap, drawing an orgasm out of you from his skilled fingers before he gets hard again. This time, he bends you over and slides into you effortlessly, his cock filling you up completely.

“Fuck, go dumb for me.” He demands you, fucking you roughly as he uses you. Pulling your hair, he looks at you as your head tilts back. “Look at you, mind completely gone. But that’s okay, isn’t it doll? Yeah it is…I’ll do the thinking for us both, you just keep being dumb and pliable for me.”

There’s not much you can do apart from whine loudly, clenching around him as your eyes almost cross. He squishes your cheeks together as you do, and if you could see yourself your embarrassment would be overwhelming. But you can’t, you can’t see anything apart from him. Always him.

“Take it. Take what I give you.”

Clumsily pleasuring you at the same time, he draws another orgasm out of you, making you gasp and moan relentlessly as your body twitches. But Edward isn’t done yet, so he keeps pounding away into your tight hole, completely using you.

When he cums for a second time, he grunts and buries himself to the hilt inside you. He stays like that for a while, catching his breath and swimming in the sensation of your submission and debauchery. Pulling out, he presses two fingers inside of you to keep his seed from spilling out.

“Keep it inside. It’s a gift from a superior intellect, you’d do well to be grateful.”

At you dazed nod, he grins and pats your cheek with his other hand. Rendering you stupid was always his favourite.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

hiiii! I hope you’re doing well!!

I saw the post about Gotham X readers and I was wondering if you could write a Dom!riddler x fem!sub!reader smut where he doesn’t let reader finish until she gets his riddles right and it leads to her being overstimulated?

Thanks in advance!

‘THE HILLS,

-GOTHAM!EDWARD NYGMA X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Since killing oswald, ed’s at a breaking point and needs to get his mojo back.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!riddler x female reader. smut!! pure porn, no plot. sub/dom dynamics. orgasm denial. degradation, dumbification of reader. Eddie needs to let some frustrations out. First time writing penetrative sex so hopefully it’s good! Also, thank you anon, i love this idea.

♫ “When I'm fucked up, that's the real me” The Hills by The Weeknd

Oh, he's been an absolute wreck. Ever since the falling out with Oswald, hyped on those god forsaken pills. You catch him mumbling to himself often, yelling and screaming at his reflection at night. You can hardly sleep.

He's absolutely fucked up. You can tell. You've known him forever, and you know the signs. The sweat on his brow, disheveled hair, loose tie. His hands rub together insistently, babbling on to you. He needs a nemesis, a stress reliever. He tells you about the hallucination of Oswald- he needs a replacement. Something to fuel him, make him the Riddler he knows he is.

So, you offered your...technique. It was simple- just distract him for a moment from his desperate scheming. He looked at you like you were absolutely crazy at first.

"...You want to what?" He growled out, slowly, legs sprawled across an arm chair, rubbing his temple. He looked like a mess. A hot mess.

After elaborating, he still looked at you incredulously. His mind was racing with thoughts, about how this could fix him. Before you knew it, he was gradually standing up, wrapping a hand around your throat and gently kissing you.

The soft and gentle kisses turned more and more raw. His hands gripped tight around your throat, sure to leave a mark, and he groaned as he held your leg up. You messily and hastily kissed your way to the bedroom; which is where you are now.

His suit jacket thrown on the floor, your blouse unbuttoned. You lay bare beneath him, gasping for air between hot open-mouthed kisses he lays everywhere.

"Ed-" You struggle out, feeling his fingers plunge inside you. It's a bit painful, and he only mumbles incoherently, he's in a hurry.

"SHUT up." He growls out against you, "I'm thinking."

His fingers rapidly work on you, prepping you as fast as possible. You whimper and he doesn't seem to pay any attention. When the sounds of your wet slick finally fill the room in messy, sopping noises- he looks up at you with his glasses on his face.

He raises himself up from your thighs, staring at you with a vague look of intrigue. It's a small gesture to ask if you're ready.

When you nod, he buries himself in to the crook of you're neck.

"...Wonderful." He whispers.

He finally breaks out in a shit-eating grin, giggling maniacally at your pleading writhing form.

Removing his fingers, his grin stands still, and suddenly rams his cock inside your slit.

You both let out an embarrassingly loud noise at this, his low groan filling the room as he grimaces in pleasure. You feel your eyes roll back as he rams himself into you, filling you up to the hilt. His hand grasps your neck once more, slightly choking you.

He mumbles theatrically in your ear, and you realize just why he wanted to do this.

"I can fill a room with just one heart. Others can have me, but I can't be shared," He begins, thrusting into you. He struggles to speak himself as he feels you clench around his member. "What am I?"

You want to scream at him, damn riddles. You swallow when he drags his cock along your cunt and chokes you a bit more, as to prompt an answer.

"L-love?" You stumble out, only to yelp when his face contorts into rage. His movements stop and you whine.

"What...? No." He snarls at you, and looks down on you- like your the stupidest, weakest, most pathetic thing he's ever seen. "No!?...The- the answer is loneliness?!"

He rolls his eyes, jaw clenched. He continues his degradation with another harsh squeeze to your throat and an agonizingly slow thrust.

"How do you not know that?" He taunts you, anger on his face. But you can see it in the glint of his eyes. He's enjoying this.

He huffs as his thrusts gradually slow down.

"Second." He mutters, feigning exasperation- as if dealing with you, fucking you- is the most tiresome thing in the world. As if he's so above you in every way.

"I can be a member of a group, but never blend in. What am I?" You feel your orgasm building up beside yourself- the way he's choking you out and has you going dumb around his cock.

When you feel the knot building up inside you, you don't answer- and he stops in his tracks.

"I give up!" You whine, incoherently, trying to bounce for any friction, but he has you pinned in place. Tall frame hanging over you. "I give up," You plead- and something in him snaps.

His hand shoves your neck even further in the mattress, and a loud slap rings out. You feel the burning on your cheek and look up at him stunned. It doesn't hurt too badly, and all you can do is struggle to regain your breath. You let out a deep inhale and feel his dick slip back and forth between your pussy lips.

He looks at you, a bit pitifully, and a bit disappointed- wrathful. His teeth are bared and he looks desperate.

"Answer me." He growls out in your ear, and you rack your brain for an answer.

His cock is teetering inside you, teasing you- fucking you at whichever pace he decides. It's leisurely and steady, and you swear you can feel him stretching you out beyond you thought was possible. You need more.

"An individual." You finally settle on, having vaguely read it in a riddle book when you were younger. Your words come out in a whine; and look to him for approval.

He seems a bit upset that you've answered correctly, stopping the fun. But in a huff, he praises you.

"...Good." He hisses, and decides to finally give you what you want. He gradually speeds up and your orgasm builds repeatedly, and you feel fulfilled.

Until...he stops, one last time.

You grab him by his hair, frustrated beyond belief, before he whispers.

"Call me the Riddler." Is all he says, and you look him in the eye. He's lost in pleasure too, and you can tell he's fighting for control as well. It's strangely vulnerable, and comes off as more of a plead. Desperate for release himself; as if he isn't the architect for his own frustration.

"Please," You decide to let him win, "Riddler, please...!" You breathe shakily, whining the words.

And with that, he finally lets himself go.

His hips slam into you relentlessly- chasing his own climax. It's hard and rough and fast, and his fingertips dig into your neck. He's baring his teeth again and grunting, pushing you both into the mattress. He captures your lips and tongue in a kiss when he finally spasms inside of you, both of you reaching your peak. The aftershocks hit you hard, and he buckles overtop of you, cock still twitching inside.

He collapses into your shoulder, and he's mumbling and muttering and ranting unintelligible "thank you's" and apologies for hitting you.

Funny enough, it's the most relaxed you've seen him in weeks.

[riddle-me-ri]

Hi, I like your writing/work, and could I request that you write about How would the different Riddlers would react when their S/O gets kidnapped

a/n: sure thing anon! I already wrote a scenario for Telltale Riddler for my 500 follower event so I'll just drop a link to his headcanon for his part! Also sorry beforehand if certain Riddler’s aren't here…I may have cut a couple out just to keep from being too repetitive lol

Content Warning: mentions of kidnapping

The Riddlers React to Reader Being Kidnapped

Arkhamverse Riddler:

- Edward is furious.

- How could this have happened? You were always near him?

- Who dared to stroll in and snatch you away? Did you even put up any kind of fight?

- He wants to blame it on you somehow; you were distracted, you got careless…you had a habit of getting far too comfortable.

- Deep down though, Ed was enraged at himself. What kind of genius is he if he can’t protect his own?

- For once, there was a matter far more pressing than his original plan to foil the Caped Crusader.

Dano/Reevesverse Riddler:

- Edward's whole nervous system is set aflame.

- His breathing increases, and his heart palpitates--a panic attack rising.

- No, no he can't lose his nerve.

- He has to find you-NEEDS to find you.

- You kept him sane, made him feel accepted, loved…he CAN'T lose you.

- Edward dons his mask and packs up his gear.

- He was going to get you back, no matter what.

Gotham Riddler:

- Ed's body is shaken from the inside out with pure rage.

- His mind is racing with who could possibly do this to get a rise out of him.

- He loathes to admit it, but it worked--it absolutely worked, whoever it is got his attention.

- Ed wastes no time to set out to find you.

- You are priority #1, and he will paint the streets of Gotham red to find you.

- He won't leave any stone unturned until he has you back.

BTAS Riddler:

- A seething rage washes over him.

- He can't seem to have anything good in his life without someone or something pulling the rug from under his feet.

- Rage soon shifts to concern…where were you, who had you, did they hurt you, were they going to?

- Edward has to shake his head to get the worrying thoughts out of his head.

- He needs to focus. He's got to figure out who would do this and where you could possibly be held.

- Once you're safe in his arms again…he'll worry about the next steps to keep you safe…

Zero Year/Capullo Riddler:

- Edward doesn't jump into action like others have…when he first saw the note, he figured you were just playing a trick on him.

- However, when he searches for you around your humble and cozy apartment, he's stunned.

- Edward's blood runs cold.

- You truly were taken.

- He tries to recount your last moments, the last increments of which he's seen you…

- Ed's temper begins to flare at this point.

- But no matter how frustrating it got, he would bring you back.

Gotham City Sirens Riddler:

- Edward has helped solve many kidnappings for various people.

- He did always worry about you possibly being in danger due to you being in a relationship with him…

- But a kidnapping?

- He never really imagined you being kidnapped. Usually, if someone had an issue with him--they would affect himself.

- Whatever case he was working on is immediately put on hold, and he refuses any new cases that come to his desk.

- Everything comes to a stop. All his energy and knowledge go to solving your whereabouts and bringing you back.

- Will likely enlist the help of Selina to find you. She hears and sees all sorts of things.

- Edward tries his best not to show it, but Selina can see the worry in his eyes, and she assures him they will get you back.

Telltale Riddler

^^ click on his name for the 500 follower event post with the same theme!^^

Young Justice Riddler

- Truly, likely the most panicked out of most of the other Riddlers.

- Guilt also overwhelms him a lot.

- You wouldn't likely be the victim of a kidnapping if you weren't associated with him.

- He knew he shouldn't have gotten involved with you…

- Eddie has to shake it off--he has to pull it together and find you.

- He begins to look for clues to where you've been and what you've done leading up to your whereabouts.

- Eddie tries to keep a determined attitude, to shove down any anxiety or insecurity, and keep it from distracting him from the objective at hand.

- You mean far too much for him to waste any time.

[multifandomfanficss]

It’s About Time

Ed Nygma/The Riddler x Reader

Prompt: Ed offers to help you with time management when you tell him you’re stressed at work. Your conversation is interrupted by an attack on the GCPD by the Maniax.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, cannibalism, r*pists, abuse, and general graphic violence. Gotham typical violence. Mental health struggles. Sensory issues and meltdowns common with autism. Panic. Near death experiences. Claustrophobia. References to being buried alive. Nightmares.

A/N: I’m rewatching Gotham and I didn’t realize the missed potential for hurt/comfort the first time I watched this show 7 years ago. My work load has been really heavy lately, but this show broke me out of my writers block and I made time for the writing bug. This takes place in the middle of Ed’s Riddler arc. He hasn’t fully become the Riddler yet, but he has already made his first kill. The reader has qualities of an autistic person, but is not explicitly said to be autistic. I accidentally code a lot of my characters to be autistic because I am, but this was more intentional to reflect Ed’s autistic coding. Feel free to read into it or not! You don’t have to be autistic to read and hopefully enjoy this! Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

“I’ve been so stressed lately.” You sigh. “It’s like I can’t get anything done that I actually need to get done.” You stand in the hallway of the precinct talking to your friend Ed. You were stressing about this case and Jim Gordon was making you go through hundreds of old files for him. You were never part of the real action, but the horrifying crime scene photos and evidence you had to pull through everyday was taking a toll on you. Gordon’s time crunches never helped either. You understood that lives were often on the line, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“What can some people never get enough of and others say is too much? What has the ability to fly when having fun or is stuck completely frozen when you need it to move?” He smiles. You stare at him blankly. You had not been getting enough sleep. You loved hearing his riddles, but you were never the best at giving him the answers. It was so hard for your mind to keep track of it all. “Do you give up?” He asks.

“My brain just isn’t braining right now.” You laugh. “What’s the answer?”

“Time.” He beams, happy with himself. “You should try to implement a better time management plan. You look tired all the time. It’s like you’re not even sleeping.”

“Thanks, Ed.” You give a dry laugh.

“You know what I mean.” You nod in an agreement with him. “You might be the only person who usually knows what I mean.” He says, fiddling with his fingers and the buttons on his coat.

He was right. Nobody quite seemed to get him, but nobody quite seemed to get you either. You had always felt this odd draw to him that you could never quite explain. Truthfully you think you have feelings for him, but you always bury them. He saw you as a friend and he really needed a friend. Besides he had been pinning over Kristen since before you even got to the precinct. You had mixed feelings towards her. On one hand you felt bad for her. She was always getting mixed up with shitty boyfriends who treated her poorly, but on the other hand she had a mean streak. You never liked how she treated Ed. It was like he wasn’t a person with feelings to her and that made you so angry.

“You’re right. I haven’t been sleeping.” You tell him.

“Why is that?” He asks.

“We live in Gotham. With the terrifying shit we see everyday, I don’t know how anyone sleeps.”

“Are you having nightmares again?” He asks, his face painted with concern.

“It’s fine. It’s just work stress. It’s just this case. I’m fine.” You smile. It wasn’t a real smile. Your smiles always came so naturally around Ed that he knew something was off. He was about to press when you heard gunshots coming from down the hall. Your body immediately froze like a dear in headlights in the middle of the hallway.

You’ve had violent people in the precinct before and it always made you nervous, but this was different. The Maniax were on the loose and you knew they were too unhinged to care about survivors or bargains. With Jerome Valeska at the helm, along side cannibals, rapists, and murderers you were terrified. They’d escaped from Arkham days ago and already managed to murder dozens of people. This was far too close to the action for you, as you heard Jerome’s laugh bellowing down the hall from the bullpen; a laugh you remembered from one of your early cases at the precinct. You had felt bad for him and tried to help him when his mother died. You will never forget the laugh he let out when Jim realized he wasn’t as innocent as you’d thought. It ran a chill through your spine.

Everything started moving too fast when you realized you were being pulled down the hall quickly. Once you realized you were holding hands, you tightly grasped Ed’s hand, not wanting to be separated from him. He brings you further down the hall into the ME’s lab.

“W-where are we going?” You stutter. It’s like your mouth can’t keep up with your racing mind.

“Do you trust me?” He looks at you trying to stay calm.

“Ed, what are you doing?” You’re panicking. He can tell. It’s not hard to tell, as your hands fidget and your breathing is heavy. You’re trying to stay calm.

“(Y/N), I need you to trust me.” He places his hands on your shoulders in an effort to ground you with the pressure. You close your eyes and nod, hesitantly. You do trust him.

Ed runs to the cold lockers and opens one, checking to see if it’s empty. He finds a dead body inside. You cringe. Seeing bodies is rare for you and you’re still getting used to it.

“Oh dear… okay… second times the charm…” He mumbles to himself trying to find an empty locker. “Bingo!” He smiles, finding an empty one. The wheels start to turn in your head.

“No! I’m not getting in there!” Your panic increases. Ed shushes you.

“This is our best chance. I promise I’ll let you out as soon as I can.”

“We won’t be together?” Your eyes start to burn. You try to keep back tears. You’re shaking.

“We won’t both fit in the same one. I’m gonna go in the one above you-“

“No no please I- I don’t wanna be by myself! Please don’t leave me!” You cut him off and beg him. Ed awkwardly rubs his thumbs across your shoulders where he places his hands again, still trying to ground you. It’s awkward, but it’s still somewhat calming.

“I’m not leaving you. I would never leave you. I’ll be right next to you the whole time. I promise. I need you to trust me.” You’re not sure if it’s because it’s life or death, or if it’s because it’s Ed, but you reluctantly let him help your shaking body into the mortuary cabinet. When it comes time to let go of his hand and close the cabinet, you don’t want to. Despite quickly running out of time, he knows he needs to be patient. He knows how hard this is for you. He’s always known you’re a bit claustrophobic. He had no idea one of your worst fears was being buried alive. Being stuck in a cold locker wasn’t too far from either of those things. He can hear footsteps far down the hall. The Maniax were never subtle. He kisses the hand he’s holding quickly before closing your locker and climbing into his own. You were surprised by the kiss, but you couldn’t think about that right now and what it could have meant. Your mind couldn’t keep up. He had to leave his own locker unlocked, unable to properly close it from the inside, but he locked yours to make it look more convincing.

When Ed heard you cry, he began to whisper, hoping he could be loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough for the Maniax to not notice. “It’s okay, (Y/N). I’m still here.” It was enough to quiet your sobs. Tears silently streamed down your cheeks. Ed’s voice had a certain gentleness to it when he spoke to you. He was being especially gentle now. You had seen him angry, upset, anxious, energetic, but his calm voice was reserved for you. Even in this moment when he was admittedly not very calm, he was trying his best to mask his own fears to keep you safe.

You always reserved parts of yourself for each other; parts of yourselves that the other person enabled you to be. You were never as bold as you wanted to be, but when people were rude to Ed you stuck up for him. He brought out a more confident version of you. For Ed, he knew you struggled with staying calm when you were stressed, upset, anxious or scared, even when you were happy. All of your emotions were so big and you rarely knew how to contain them. He tried to stay calm because he knew you saw him as a calming person in your life. He liked being your hero when everyone else only saw him as a weak, odd, nuisance. He also liked that he could read you and that you were honest with him. He trusted you and it helped keep the voice in his head at bay. He didn’t have to question himself with you. He didn’t have to take advice from the voice in his head.

You tried to keep your meltdown as quiet as possible when you heard footsteps approach. They were heavy, not ones you recognized. You knew it had to be one of the Maniax, probably the cannibal. You tried to make your breath as quiet as possible. After what you assume was a poor sweep of the room, the man leaves.

After what seems like hours of being trapped in a corpse you finally hear sirens and then chatter. You hear Ed climb out of the locker above you. He opens your locker and you let out an audible sob.

“I think they’ve gone.” He says, pulling out the drawer to let your body get some much needed air. You start gasping and sobbing, shaking on the drawer of the mortuary cabinet. Your body jolts up. You just want to get away from the locker.

“You’re okay! You’re okay!” Ed catches your body, as your start to fall from the drawer to the floor. You sit on the floor and cling to him, sobbing. At first awkward, he runs his hand along your back, trying to sooth you with the repetitive motion.

“I felt like I was dead- like- like I was gonna get buried alive-“ You gasp for air, sobbing between your words. Ed shushes you.

“We’re okay. They’re gone.” He promises.

You hear fast approaching footsteps. Your brain is moving too fast to decide if the footsteps are familiar or not. You just bury yourself further into Ed’s chest.

“Detective Gordon is here.” He informs you and you relax only slightly.

“Nygma, are they okay?” Jim asks.

“No mortal wounds, they’re just a bit shaken up.” He lets him know.

“You two should probably still get checked out. I need to finish scanning the building for everyone else. So far we’ve got 9 cops dead in the bullpen and… and the commissioner is dead.” He says. It’s almost like you hear Jim, but you don’t. Your mind can’t keep up with anything that’s happening.

After a while you find yourself sitting, waiting for Lee to check you out. Ed had been pulled away for a few minutes to do his job. He didn’t want to leave you, but you assured him you were fine. You didn’t feel fine, but you knew they needed him. As long as you could see him on the other side of the bullpen, you were reluctant, but okay with him stepping away. He left his jacket draped around your shoulders. It helped to be surround by his smell and warmth.

When it was time to go home, Ed guided you to his car. You hadn’t spoken much, but at least you’d finally stopped crying. The car ride was quiet. The only thing that filled the air was Ed’s occasional hum with the radio. Neither of you quite knew what to say. It was a bit ironic considering usually nobody could ever get you two to shut up. You didn’t speak up until he turned onto your street.

“I don’t want to go home.” You said quietly, feeling the panic rise again at the thought of being alone at home again.

“That’s understandable. Would you like to stay at my place?” He asks. You nod, silently. He flicks his turn signal and starts the drive to his place.

“Welcome to Château Nygma.” He smiles, turning on the light. You still have his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. Despite the terror you’ve been through today, his smile is refreshing. You don’t question how he can stay so seemingly sane in times like these, but you’re just glad somebody is. You need that. Maybe you should have questioned it, but you didn’t. He has a nice apartment. It’s not too big. Why would it be for a man who lived by himself? It’s just the right size with cool windows and a comfortable setup.

“Do you want something to eat? I’m a good cook.” He smiles. You don’t know how he can continue to smile, but you’re glad. It starts to make you feel safer. It’s nice to be in a locked apartment with just you and Ed. It’s nice to be in a quiet, secluded place, but not feel alone. It’s far better than sitting on your bed, scared of any serial killers that could be hiding underneath the frame and jumping at any people you hear in the stairwell of your apartment, with an open case file sitting next to you, worried the killers you’re reading about could be onto you any second. Today was a very close call. Too close.

“If you’re not sure, that’s okay too.” He continues, noticing you’re deep in thought.

“Oh…uh yeah… I’m not sure what I want… It’s like my body needs things, but I’m just a little bit too overwhelmed to figure it out.” You look down, shyly.

“Do you want to just sit? I can put on some music?” He questions referencing the record player with his hands.

“That sounds okay. I think I can do that.” You nod. He puts on some quiet music, not too loud to overstimulate you and you make your way to the couch. He brings you a glass of water.

“I can imagine it might be hard for you to have an appetite given your increased levels of adrenaline today, but you should at least drink this.” You take the water from him and begin to sip it. You didn’t realize how nice cold water could feel. You drink it quickly, before setting the glass down.

“Thank you.”

Ed sits down and you gravitate towards him.

“How do you do it?” You ask.

“How do I do what?” He looks for clarification.

“Your job. There’s so much death everywhere.”

“I don’t know. I just sort of do. Honestly I think it’s fascinating…” He pauses, looking away from you. “Sorry. That probably sounds weird.”

“It does, but that’s okay. I like the fact that you’re different and you’re honest. It’s comforting. You’re a better man than all of those crooked cops walking around beating up women and mobsters alike.”

“You think so?” He asks.

“Yeah, I do.” You smile. This time it’s a real smile. Ed smiles too. It’s nice to know after everything he’s done for you to make you comfortable, you can say something to make him feel better.

“I’m sorry all of this has been so awful for you.” He says.

“I know we’re doing good and it’s important to do good in a world of so much bad, but sometimes I just wish nobody had to do it. I can’t even fathom what would make somebody what kill another person. Maybe out of necessity, but it scares me that people actually enjoy it.”

“Yeah.” Ed shifts uncomfortably. You think he must agree with you and that’s why he’s unconformable. You don’t know that he killed Officer Doherty for abusing Kristen just over a month ago.

The two of you talk for quite some time until you end up falling asleep next to him on the couch. He doesn’t mind when you fall into his lap. He lets you sleep, smiling down at you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to wake you. He was afraid of breathing too deeply and shifting too much underneath you. He eventually falls asleep sitting up with you still in his lap.

Everything is peaceful until you shoot up screaming, in a cold sweat. You’ve had another nightmare. This time is different. You’re disoriented. You don’t know where you are. You feel hands touching you.

“(Y/N), it’s me! It’s Ed! You had another nightmare.” You look at his face to see him distraught, unsure of what to do. Your tossing and turning had woken him up. He was awake only seconds before you.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. “I just want it to stop. When will all of this stop?” You cry.

“When will what stop?” He asks.

“Everything! I just want to stop feeling like this. I want to stop being afraid. I should be used to the job by now.”

“Maybe you just need more time to get used to it! I know we talked about time management earlier. I can help you with your schedule.” He offers.

“I don’t want to manage my time. I just want it to freeze. I just wish time would freeze so I could just breathe and catch up!”

Ed looks at you defeated. He doesn’t know what to say. He likes riddles because riddles always have answers. He doesn’t know what to do when there’s a problem with no solution.

“I’m sorry.” He settles with saying. “Would a hug help?” He’s just grasping at anything he’s seen people do when trying to comfort other people with problems and no solutions.

“Yes.” You say quietly, burying your head in his chest. Despite being the one to offer the hug, he’s a little awkward at first. He eventually settles in.

“Is this helping?” He asks.

“Yes.” You tell him. Of course, Ed being who he is, even now he’s still looking for a solution. He doesn’t realize he may be the solution, or at least someone to help make the problem smaller. “You always help.” You add.

“I’m sure most of our coworkers would disagree.” He laughs.

“I never thanked you for earlier today.” You say quietly.

“It was nothing.” He smiles.

“No, Ed. Keeping me safe in a life or death situation isn’t nothing.”

“I’m sure anyone would have done it.” He argues.

“No, they wouldn’t have.” You tell him.

“I’ll always protect you.” He pulls you closer, shifting awkwardly underneath you. “You know… my apartment is always open if you want to sleep with me- I- I mean sleep with me in attendance- I- I mean sleep with each other- I- I mean near each other- you know! In case you have nightmares!”

“I might just have to take you up on that. This is the first night I’ve felt okay enough to be able to maybe go back to sleep afterwards.” You smile, trying not to laugh. You don’t want him to think you’re making fun of him. Truthfully you think he’s sweet and funny.

“You should go back to sleep and since I didn’t get to make you dinner I’ll be making you the best breakfast of your life tomorrow.” He beams.

“You better.” You snuggle into him. Ed is too awkward to suggest you go lay in his bed tonight and you’re too tired to care. You spend the rest of the night on the couch together. You can save the bed for tomorrow night. You know when you wake up in the morning you’ll be coming back. It was the most sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

Ed wakes up before you and sneaks off the couch to start breakfast. He truthfully was a very good cook. His own sensory issues with food made him very particular about how it’s prepared. You wake up to the smell of something good in the oven. Ed is nowhere to be seen, but you hear him in the bathroom. He’s talking. You knew he often talked to himself, but he sounded like he was talking to someone else. Maybe he was on the phone. You were sure you were hearing one half of a conversation.

“I told you we could trust them. They like me for me. They think I’m a good man.”

[h4unted-d4rling]

TW, talks of menstruation and sexual content mentioned

Eddie would have sex with you on your period and he’d get all scientific about it like “the reason sex helps with cramps is that sexual activity releases endorphins that relieve them!” And the aftercare KING he is he would clean you up after the fact <3 he’d go to the store to get you pads/tampons and chocolate and tea <3

Like bro does not think it’s “unhygienic” like he would def be like “it’s a natural thing darling! it’s okay!”

HE WOULD TAKE SUCH GOOD CARE OF YOU

you are in the safest hands with him <3

[quandaryqueen]

How do you think the various Riddlers would react to their love interest slipping up and using a term of endearment when speaking to them? (i.e. "honey," "sweetheart," etc.) I can imagine one or two of them insisting they must be crazy for thinking of him as sweet! 😂

I don't know what you heard, but that's not what I said

Edward Nygma X Reader

Hiii omg I'm so sorry for being so late! Hopefully you enjoy still 🥹

💚 Gotham

You know how Edward always naturally assume he's the smartest in the room? Take his arrogant self in a meeting with the Penguin, where he meets you... He doesn't want to admit it, but you're essentially his equal. Not only does he need to vye to be heard oh no no no, he has to deal with you! You who poses as the rival who shoots his ideas down in favour of your own.

"Now, I suggest we take to land by the docks by the east—"

"No I don't think that would work," For the umpteenth time, Edward turns to narrow his gaze at you. You didn't shrink under his glare, just as the others did, they would back away if they were to be subjected under his stare. But you being you, dared to resume. "No offense, but we can't just underestimate this cartel. For all we know they have armed men at the settlement then all our efforts would be for nought."

"I don't see how you'd have those thoughts. Oswald had already--"

"Darling, I think you know by know that people like them tend to be like Oswald... Always coming back. I just don't want to take the risk when you have done so much for this operation, but we can't get cocky as we near the finish line."

His initial reaction with your "darling" remark made him note that you might have meant that sarcastically, condescendingly but the further you spoke, the more he softened... No, you don't mean that... You hate him and he hates you and--

"I'm sorry I keep interrupting you it's just that sometimes you can get overconfident. You're highly intelligent, I admire you so much and I just want nothing but to see you succeed."

You never hated him, nor have you hinted it. It's just that in his envy-tinted glasses, did he view your criticisms as insults, your remarks in planning as challenges, your pet names as patronising. With no Oswald to break you up (or rather, hold Edward down) before asking you to proceed with the planning, you never really got the chance to explain your intentions.

For the first time, he sees just you.

...

💚 Batman Unburied

"Well..." Edward tugs on his collar and clears his throat. He tries to shake off whatever metaphoical bugs fluttering in his brain and even when they continue to loom, he resumes. "North it is."

"Oh dear, you're so fucking stupid. Have you never learn? Ever? How many times do you have to do this, you never listen to me and then you crawl back with your candy ass shot......"

Edward can only sit under you care, his torso being at the process of being wrapped in layers of bandages as you continue to silently grimace and occasionally let out an 'ow'. If this had been the first time, he'd be crying... From your berating, not the wound— this is his first time being shot, actually. He understands how you tend to spew off like this and he has came to see it as endearing. Nothing like being berated while you tend to his injuries and being taken care of for the rest of his recovery. Oh he would know if you hate him, you'd have abandoned him to die... Or have a minor injury, in general.

"On my fucking god, who gave you the idea this is a good plan! Black Mask! Fucking... Black Mask! In what world is double-crossing him a good idea?! No offense, sweetheart, but sometimes I think you think you're way too smart and end up underestimating everyone—"

"Aaaaw, you called me sweetheart~"

"Oh my god, fuck you!"

"Once I recover, I might just—"

"Just shut up!" You sputtered, before returning to his wounds. Though your words hurtful, your hands were gentle on his wounds.

[ihavenosoul12]

OKAY SO i haven't written for gotham/riddler for a few months and i've never written an x reader fic but i wanted to write a thankyou present for @finniestoncrane!! it's a bit late for christmas but i hope you enjoy it.

just got some good old one-sided pining, revenge theft and a brief near murder. the perfect recipe for a reader x riddler oneshot

word count: 2081

also btw i'm doing comms sorry for posting on a christmas present but i really need some cash check out my carrd in my bio ty for even just perceiving it

When you’d dropped out of Metropolis-U and wondered what the hell you were gonna do with the next five years of your life, the one thing you hadn’t considered was whatever the hell Gotham is, or whatever the hell this heist is.

The night sky is briefly littered with green sparkles and that’s your cue. You’d gotten a hell of a lecture from the brains of the operation - that’s what he called himself and glared as you giggled about it - and could probably recite the plan ten times fast to the GCPD if they caught you. If. They kind of suck at their job. After all, they’re too busy chasing down the brains to even notice you sneaking into the club they’re supposed to guard.

Penguin was always a shitty hire; that’s why you’re working with his ex instead. You slink in through an open window (summer in this city was brutal but seriously? It’s like Penguin wants to get robbed) and duck underneath the familiar bar. Ooh, Belvedere, don’t mind if I do, you barely keep yourself from saying out loud as you sneak it into your bag, scanning the rest of the bar for anything else worth taking. The fancy martini glasses are a bit out of your way and you doubt they’ll survive the journey you have to endure before getting to clink them together with your partner. Partner in crime, that is. Though it would be nice-

Shit, a camera, you spot its red glare as it swivels around. Selina needs to be better at her job. Your frustration comes out as flared nostrils and a slump against the bar. Your earpiece wiggles in the flesh of your, well, ear, as Mr Brains speaks: “Where are you?” It’s not concern, it never is with him, but impatience. It’s been maybe a minute but since his bird boyfriend turned archnemesis’ lounge hasn’t exploded yet, he’s sure something’s gone wrong and he’s absolutely fucking certain it’s all your fault. 

“Bar- yes-” you add before he can even think to assume you mean a different bar, “-in the lounge. Cat didn’t do a good job getting rid of the cameras.”

“Oh.” Then he chortles, breaking out into a mad laugh that makes you mad at and for him. “I asked her to leave one.” He has the privilege of an outburst against you but you can’t exactly scream back at him, not without alerting the underpaid security. He also has to be loud otherwise you’d never hear him over the sirens closing in. 

“What?” You hiss, keeping your voice low. “Why the hell-”

“To test you, of course! What’s the point of having a thief who can’t sneak past a itty bitty camera?”

Okay, now you’re just mad at him. “What’s the point of having a thief who can’t steal the thing you’re looking for because you got them in jail?!” He has the audacity to shush you as the sirens on his end get louder and louder, then your other ear picks up on distant sirens closing in and several cars whoosh past the club before the sirens fade out. “Why are you bringing them here?!”

“It’s not by choice, you imbecile.” Such cute pet names he gives you. Truly, what did Penguin see in him? “Lucky you, you have me to make choices- I’ll deactivate the camera from here.”

“I’m not playing into your mind games, Riddler,” you grumble as the red eye glaring around the room begins to blink, trying to keep itself awake- alive. Its last words are a beep dipping down into the lower octaves and the lens drops to face the floor, staring at nothing. You poke your head above the bar - nothing, no one, but you still hesitate on standing straight, checking the rest of the cameras. No red glares, not even the humming whirs of them turning their heads to stare. “That camera probably saw me come in thanks to your little stunt.”

“And? Just means Oswald will definitely notice he’s been robbed.” There’s that laugh again, satisfied at almost jeopardising his mission just to play with his meal. You can imagine with excruciating detail the way his jaw hangs near lopsided and loose, how he’ll eye himself in the rearview mirror and lick his teeth and he won’t even consider how he could have gotten you in trouble. Anything to spite Penguin. “Just get the diamond.”

Rolling your eyes, you vault over the bar - shorter than average to make Penguin less insecure so you barely have to expend effort - and dart across the room to a corner to duck around, maybe pocketing the little things you find along the way. The sirens fade in and fade out again and his manic laughter begins to hurt your ear. “Be quiet or I’m muting you.”

“You will not!” He barks and you almost laugh yourself. Men and their tantrums. He stammers for a reason to keep listening to him - you know the way around the club pretty well, you know where the diamond is, and you can hear the sirens your-goddamn-self. “I’ll activate the cameras!” 

“Then I won’t get the diamond,” you respond coolly. “Or I will and then I’ll sell it.” An evil idea crosses your mind. “Or-”

“No,” he gapes.

“I’ll give it to-”

“Don’t you dare even say it-”

“Cat-”

“That little brat wouldn’t know what to do with it!”

“Maybe Jim Gordon would appreciate it-”

“I hate that goody-two-shoes.”

“Or maybe even back to Penguin.”

“HOW DARE YOU!” It’s not just him screeching, it’s the goddamn tyres too.

“Then don’t turn the cameras on, handsome, and let me have some quiet to think.”

He grumbles like a kid told no cookies before dinner and you’re blessed with some silence as he mutes himself. You sigh, maybe too loud, and from the corner, you scamper to the stairs leading up to where Penguin ‘hides’ the diamond. A generous way to put it; he doesn’t hide the damn thing, he has it in the centre of his room so he can coo over it and brag about it and show it to every poor soul who has the misfortune of talking to him.

“Hiii.” And the other star of the show - Zsasz. Of course he couldn’t take one day off, he’s not even sipping a milkshake. Nope, just a gun in his hand, which you are currently lacking. “Here for the diamond? That’s not yours.”

You cough to the speaker to get Riddler’s attention - these days it’s noticeably sparse but thank God it works, he groans at you but you speak over him. “Well, Zsasz, it will be mine soon enough. When I steal it.”

“Zsasz is there?” Panic begins to lace his tone and you can hear the squeaking leather of 'his' car. “That bastard…”

Zsasz raises his gun toward your ear. “Cute earring, I’ll have that.”

“Tradesies?” You try. “Diamond for the earpiece.”

“Haha,” he doesn’t actually laugh. “No.” His eyes flicker to his empty hand, he's noticed the lack of milkshake and he clearly wants one. You, on the other hand, want to live so you take his lapse in focus as an opportunity to run. Not into a safe corner, that'd be smart, but you near tackle the diamond, smashing its casing on the floor but catching the jewel in your hand, all in the blink of an eye. 

Your stunt startles Zsasz; his finger too as it tugs prematurely at the trigger and even he, skilled marksman as he is, can't aim quick to redirect it. It fires into a wall and he swears. Definitely coming out of his pay. He won't make that mistake again, his eyes stiffen and this time he swivels around to you. You're still on the ground from your tackle, glass shards crunch below your clothes and definitely cut into it so it's an easy shot for him. You're staring right down the barrel of his gun. 

"Wait, wait, don't shoot!" You plea, holding your hands - and the diamond - up in surrender. "Come on, Victor, we used to work together! You like me! We're friends!" Yeah it's all total bullshit but it's total bullshit that's stalling for time - Zsasz can't help but humour you; he tilts his head back and forth, his eyes look up at the ceiling, puckering his lips in pretend thought, he even waves the gun slightly, only returning it into position when the glass shifts under you. 

"I've worked with a lot of people," he shuts you down. Your terrified gulp is for show but he cracks a little smile at it. "Sorry."

"You will be." It's not you saying it, you're really not in position to make threats, but it isn't a new voice either. In fact, he's been here all along in your ear - but now he's getting his hands dirty. The Riddler stands in the doorway, his own gun in his hand pointed at Zsasz who slowly turns his gaze. Too slow to fire back against the gunshot but quick enough to notice it and lurch out the way enough that it only hits his shoulder. Riddler uses his long legs to both of your benefits as he makes it to you in half the amount of steps you had to take, then he yanks you to just about on your feet before he runs out the room with you in tow. 

"You saved me!" You gape. 

Of course he has to correct you and ruin the moment: "I saved the diamond." Nevertheless, he doesn't do the much simpler task of prying it from your fingers and leaving you to die but you already know he'll blame that on Zsasz definitely targeting him. ("I'm Oswald's rivalllll," he'll say, though you add the whiny tone in your head. "He'll be under strict orders to capture meeee. He doesn't care about some nobody who worked on his bar!") Whatever excuse he gives later, you'll currently take as a kind gesture and only that. Don't go getting your hopes up - that's how you became a dropout.

He doesn't stop running until he gets back to 'his' car. Sleek, black, new and understandable why it was his target. Probably a Wayne make, you haven't lived in Gotham long enough to know the ins and outs of Wayne and you're definitely not in his marketing team's demographic. Maybe, in another life, Riddler could have been, because the car suits him as he sits down behind the wheel and drives. 

One hand on the wheel, he plucks the diamond from your hands. "Keep us on the road," he commands as he inspects it instead of driving, taking his one hand off. You lean over him, only briefly able to glower at him before having to watch the road. His legs awkwardly shift under your stomach and chest, almost anxiously but you're probably making that up in your head. When he presses his thighs (not that there's much of them) together however you reconsider calling yourself delusional. 

Suddenly the diamond is thrown at the window, then the window is rolled down and the diamond is finally thrown out of it. You let go of the wheel immediately and he lurches forward to take it, steaming angrily. So are you. "What the hell?! I almost died for that!" 

"It's a fake," he mumbles bitterly. "Oswald's hidden the real one. He wanted my attention and he got it. He thinks he's so smart."

"I almost died for a fake diamond! You're supposed to be the brains here!" You put your hand on his skinny thigh and squeezed tight in frustration like he was a stress ball. He didn't bat your hand away. He did however roll his eyes and ignore you. "Just forget Penguin, you're just toying with each other to no end. You make schemes, he outwits them, he makes schemes, you outwit them." You desperately wanted to squeeze his thigh, touch his cheek, and be a comfort to him, to run your hand down further and not have a gun in your face. You wanted him to meet your eyes, never mind if there was oncoming traffic, and want for you. 

"I'm not giving up. I won't back down- won't give him that satisfaction. I'll get him. One day I'll really get him." 

Removing your hand from his thigh, you set it in your lap and gaze out the window to force yourself to an understanding: you'll never really get him. 

[strawberrybyers]

being a slut and mentally ill means i’d do really well as a patient in arkham asylum

[thequeenofuselessinformation]

I'm alive but only ironically.

Twt op cr: @FranziaMom

[aeternal-nightmare]

Okay is this anything

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Moth to the Flame Pt. 1 | Dr. Crane x Reader

summary: Dr. Jonathan Crane isn't the only 'crazy' in Gotham City and he's about to meet his match. When confronted with an unpleasant secret from his past, he's skeptical to trust the strange young woman who calls herself Victoria Vale, the rightful heiress to Arkham Asylum (and maybe his downfall).

warnings: none yet but oh baby just you wait...

A/N: I really enjoy using the original DC comic lore so if you've been following me for a while, you'll recognize the backstories in this but I've tried to make a completely different plot line.

bury a friend- Billie Eilish 🎶

i 

“Professor Crane?” You poke your head into the small office, the heavy door slightly crushing your body against the doorframe. The raven-haired man looks up from a stack of research papers on his desk and cocks an unwelcome eyebrow. 

“Come back during my office hours.” He waves you off with his free hand as he grades a paper with a red pen. His voice has the strange ability to both attract you and put you ill-at-ease at the same time. You step inside and let the heavy door close behind you. You don’t need to lock it, yet. Dr. Crane looks you up and down quickly, his lip curled in displeasure and disinterest. 

“It’s a quick question, I promise sir,” you lie through your teeth, your dimples showing beneath your full cheeks as you smile. Dr. Crane looks up at you from over the rim of his harsh rectangular frames. He stares at you for a moment, his blue eyes shifting as he thinks, then finally he sighs and sits back in his desk chair. 

“What’s your name?” He removes his glasses and wipes the lenses clean with the corner of his suit jacket. He puts them back on as you sit down opposite of him, the desk between you. You glance down at the research papers, an action that is barely noticeable, if at all. 

“Victoria,” you answer and watch as Dr. Crane sighs again, impatiently. He rolls his eyes after a moment of silence and leans forward, gesturing his hand through the air to get you to continue. 

“What did you want to ask me?” He asks pointedly, losing whatever patience he had left. 

“Well we’ve spoken once before but it was just a brief exchange after one of your lectures,” you start and Crane watches you, barely paying attention now. His eyes seem to glaze over. “I asked you about the chemical components of fear. I’d like to hear your answer.” You say slowly, your hands playing with the edge of your seat. Dr. Crane barely cocks his head to the side before he clucks his tongue and looks away. 

“Did you not like the answer I gave you before?” 

“I’d forgotten what you said,” you explain as you wipe your clammy hands on your thighs. Dr. Crane threw his gaze back to you and raised an eyebrow, his expression one of obvious judgment. 

“Fear is an emotional response to a threat. It’s a basic evolutionary survival mechanism. The two primary parts of the brain that deal with fear are the amygdala and the hippocampus…” he answers dully, regurgitating what every psych student already knows. 

“Respectfully, sir,” you start, your voice steady, “I’m talking about the chemical components of fear, not the anatomical.” 

Dr. Crane regards you with an unreadable expression and then removes his glasses, sighing deeply again. He looks down at his glasses and then clears his throat. 

“You’re interested in fear chemistry, are you?” His tone is low and dry, like he’s mocking you. 

“Interested isn’t exactly the right word.” You answer with a small shrug. 

“What is the right word then, Victoria?” The way he says your name is sharp, like a door closing when you aren’t expecting it. He finally looks up at you again.

“I’m…” you search for the right word and then wet your lips, “... attracted to the concept of fear. It’s almost like a passion project that can’t be satisfied.” 

“Attracted to fear?” Crane repeats slowly, though his face doesn’t change. 

“Fear is one of the most fascinating phenomena in the creation of our universe, don’t you think?” 

Dr. Crane regards you differently, his breath shifting to a new rhythm. He wets his lips before he answers, his words measured. 

“One could debate that. I’d say pleasure or desire are more complex and powerful. Why fear?” 

“It’s the power of control over both the mind and body,” you respond without batting an eye. 

“Is it power that fascinates you, Victoria?” Crane asks softly, his hands clenching and relaxing in his lap. “One could say that pleasure can have a similar effect.” 

You allow yourself to blush, knowing it’ll look more believable if you do. “Well, it’s also about control…” 

Dr. Crane looks down at his hands again and thinks for a moment before responding, his voice still calm and even despite the shift in the room. 

“Do you find control attractive?” 

“Well, don’t you? Isn’t that why you became a teacher? The role gives you control over the development of new minds,” you smile sweetly. 

A rare smirk creeps across Crane’s face. He looks up at you and puts his glasses back on, the silver frames catching the light of the fluorescent bulbs. 

“You’re very perceptive,” he trails off and folds his hands on the desk in front of him. “Control is a powerful and attractive aspect of fear.” 

“And what’s so fascinating about fear specifically is that it is universal. Everyone has something that they’re afraid of… even you. And that’s what led me to ask myself this question: what are you, Professor Crane, afraid of? And for the life of me, I can’t figure it out.” Your eyes meet his with an obvious change in intentionality. Crane doesn’t react but feels himself leaning forward slightly like a snake rearing its head.

“I have a few guesses but it doesn’t matter for right now,” you continue when he doesn’t respond. “I read your old thesis about fear in mammalian species and it’s given me a lot of insight into my own mind.” 

“You’ve read my thesis?” Dr. Crane cocks his brow again and grips his hands together painfully. His body goes cold in warning like a lightning rod in a thunderstorm. “Most of my students barely attend class, much less decide to read my work.” 

This is the moment. You lean forward slightly, your hair falling off your shoulders, your eyes wide with excitement. 

“Oh, I never said I was a student, Professor Crane.” 

Dr. Crane freezes, his cold heart stuttering in his chest. He swallows slowly, trying to collect his thoughts before he responds. 

“Then who, may I ask, are you?” 

“I attended one of your lectures on radical treatment of phobias, which is where we spoke for the first time, and yes, I did sit in on one of your classes and left with additional reading materials and a better appreciation for your work. Your thesis however,” you tilt your head away in a show of shyness, “that’s available for any ‘crazy’ to find.”

“Mmm so, you’re just a ‘crazy’ then?” Crane hums cooly, “But that still doesn’t answer how you managed to get a copy of my thesis. It was pulled from circulation and all hard copies that I was aware of were destroyed.” 

“I’m good at getting answers and it helps when people find you attractive…” you shift in your seat, looking away. You can feel Crane’s eyes on you as he considers your answer. 

“And I guess that means you think that I find you attractive?” Crane guesses cooly, his eyes not leaving your face. You look back at him and take note of his guarded expression. Taking a breath, you fix your hair and meet his eyes. 

“I think you’re attracted to my mind.” 

“Who are you?” He asks again, leaning closer against his better judgment, like a moth to the flame. 

“I’m surprised you’re so unconcerned with my presence here, late at night when everyone else has gone home…” your posture is rigidly still as you speak. Dr. Crane smirks softly. 

“You are a very beautiful and intelligent young woman, and you don’t look very dangerous to me. Why would I be concerned?” 

“Because I think I know what you’re afraid of, doc.” You whisper and Crane freezes again, his heart jumping in his chest at your thinly veiled threat. Despite his feelings of unease, Crane smiles. He studies your lips as you speak and the way your body is angled towards him. 

“And what is it that I’m afraid of?” 

And just like that, it’s become a game. 

You smile a little, wanting him to feel safe and comfortable. He isn't intimidated by you yet and you want him to take you seriously. You lean closer, ducking your head in a whisper. 

“Being found out…” 

“About what, pet?” Crane asks pointedly, in a challenging tone. 

“Well…,” you sit back in your chair casually and tuck your hair behind your ears. “I’ve always had a natural inclination towards crime. That’s what made me become a detective. I thought what I wanted was to restore justice in Gotham, but I’ve quickly learned that justice is a jealous mistress and maybe my interest in crime has other motives… Are you following me so far?” 

Dr. Crane massages his mouth with his hand, listening intently. His lips are pursed beneath his fingers, his eyes void of any telling secrets. 

“So far,” he sighs. 

“You and I share something very important. It’s made us both who we are today. I just realized it before you did.” 

“Oh? And what do you think we share?” He furrows his brow skeptically. 

You stand and brush the hem of your dress over your thighs. As Crane watches you, you trail a finger over the books on your bookshelf, stopping at one and pretending to read one of the pages. 

“Thomas Wayne.” 

You toss the book in front of him on the desk. The book is open to the author bio. It’s a picture of your parents, the authors of a book on criminal psychology. The Arkhams.

"These are my parents. My name was Victoria Vale when I was born. Thomas Wayne murdered them and they put me in an orphanage. I didn’t know they were my parents until I started looking into the Waynes. And then I found you…” You keep your story short and to-the-point, not wanting to reveal too much. Dr. Crane looks between the photo and you, his brow furrowed as he works it all out in his head. Maybe for the first time in his life, he finds himself speechless. 

“So you really are crazy, aren’t you, pet?” He covers the shaky tone of his voice with a sneer. You ignore him and close the book, pushing it aside on the desk. 

“Tell me, what did Thomas Wayne do to you?” 

Dr. Crane looks up at you and scoffs. He removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and his thumb until the pressure between his eyes fades. 

“And why would I tell you that?” 

“Because I already know the answer, I’m just giving you the opportunity to say it.” You lean against the bookshelf and cross your arms over your chest. Dr. Crane regards you with suspicion and shakes his head. 

“You’re bluffing.” 

“Am I?” You bite back. You stare at each other, eyes narrowed and blood pumping. Dr. Crane finally sighs through his nose and puts his glasses back on. His eyes bore into you, punishing you for asking him this question. He holds your gaze with a mixture of pain, bitterness and cold rage. He speaks as if the words are acid in his mouth.

“Thomas Wayne destroyed my family and my childhood. He was a ruthless and cruel man and I’m glad he’s dead.” 

You stare back at him and notice the original tension between you changing, shifting as your power shifts. 

“Then we’re kindred spirits, you and I. It was only a matter of time until I found you, the famous criminal psychiatrist with-” You lean over the desk, looking directly into his eyes,” startling blue eyes.” You take a breath before continuing, not waiting for him to respond. 

“Because I’m a good detective, not like any of my ignorant male peers, I looked into a string of unusual robberies and I noticed that most of Falcone’s men were being moved to Arkham Asylum… on your orders.” 

Crane is silent for a moment, impressed by your intelligence and deduction. He feels his heart starting to pound a little faster again. He does not deny it, but doesn’t confirm your suspicions either. 

“I may have had some influence in those transfers.” 

“Don’t worry, Crane, I’m not here to cause trouble for you. I just wanted to meet the man I’ve admired for so long and see if I can be of some… help.” You smile and pass your fingers over the research papers organized across the desk. You’re catching him off guard on how well you know him and he can’t tell if he likes it or not. His eyes flick across your face again, taking in the sight of your dark eyes and darker eyelashes. 

“You admire me?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“How does a young, beautiful girl like yourself become so interested in a man like me?” Then he pauses and wets his lips before adding with a smirk, “why, exactly, do you admire me?”

“Your work, it’s impressive. And what can I say… ” You look back up at him with a serious look on your face as you drag a finger across the research papers, pulling out a piece of scratch paper. “I like your style.” 

On the corner of the paper, there is a drawing of a scarecrow. You drag it slowly across the desk until it sits in front of Crane on the desk. You don’t need to say anything else. He looks down at the drawing, swallows, then looks up at you. 

“Stop acting dumb, doc. I know more than you think. Like I said, I’m good at finding information and sticking my nose into places where it may not belong.” 

Crane’s pulse quickens at the edge in your voice, his fingers reaching for and clutching the paper tightly. He wants to be irritated, but somehow you’re bringing out a different, a darker and playful part of him. 

“Once again, you’ve proven yourself to be a very observant and talented young woman. Maybe too talented. I think you’re too dangerous to keep around my office, Miss Vale. You’re a liability.” 

“What are you going to do to me, Crane? Are you going to use your… little fear toxin on me?” You smile, leaning further across the desk where Crane hasn’t moved from his seat. He looks up at you, smirking slyly. 

“Maybe I will.” Dr. Crane starts to stand, and when he does, he’s taller than you but not by much. He isn’t a very tall man, you could easily take him if you needed to. You’re still separated by the desk but you’re close enough to smell his cologne. 

“Impressed by my skills of deduction?” You ask, clasping your hands behind your back. 

Crane walks slowly around his desk to stand in front of you, looking you up and down intently. He tilts his head to the side, his voice distant and distracted. 

“More than a little impressed, yes. You’ve figured out an awful lot about me in a very short time.”

“Now don’t you want to know why I’m here? Your survival instincts are annoyingly slow, Crane,” you tease. 

Crane bristles, displeased with your slight to his intelligence. He crosses his arms over his chest and sits back against the desk, clenching his jaw. “I would love to know why you’re here. You’ve been very coy about that point.” 

You nod and move away from him to continue looking at the books, organized meticulously on the bookshelf. “I have a proposition for you. I want to be… business partners.” You can see Crane watching you from out of the corner of your eye. Crane chuckles a little, stunned. 

“Business partners, huh? And what exactly would that entail?” 

Crane’s eyes sweep over your figure again as he imagines what kind of ‘business partners’ he’d want to be. 

“I’ll help you with your grand plan for Gotham and in return I get two things…” you keep your eyes on the spines, your fingers following the edges of each book. 

“Mm?” Crane hums, listening carefully now that you have his full attention. 

“1. I get to lead beside you when you successfully turn Gotham upside down and 2. I get what’s rightfully mine… Arkham Asylum.” You turn back to look at him, refusing to be intimidated by him even when he looks at you like something he’d like to eat. 

Crane’s eyes widen and he almost starts to laugh. His navel warms, aroused by your attitude and threats. He chuckles softly and moves his hands to grip the desk on either side of his body. 

“Gotham city flipped upside down, and Arkham Asylum in your hands. Your terms are surprisingly bold, Miss Vale.” 

“What can I say, Crane? I’m in the business of retribution.” You shrug, not backing down. 

Crane chuckles again and shakes his head, “Touché.” He imagines himself pinning you against the bookshelf and feels himself get hard just at the thought of it. He watches you closely, noticing your unwavering resolve. “And how can you be sure I won’t use my toxin on you?”

It’s your turn to laugh now. You smile and step closer to him, meeting his cool eyes. You let your eyes look him up and down, admiring the way his lean body hides beneath his expensive suit. 

“I’ve prepared for that possibility… but I like playing with fire.” You pull a lighter out from your pocket and strike a flame. It glows between your faces.

Crane smiles in amusement at your audacity then his eyes dart between your face and the flame separating the two of you. 

“You are playing a dangerous game, Miss Vale.” 

“My favorite,” you respond coolly and play with the flame in your hand. Crane’s eyes follow the flame and he swallows. “So? What say you?” 

He should stop you, he should kick you out of his office and ignore you, but the fire in your eyes and the confidence in your words makes him want to take a risk. He reaches out quickly and takes hold of your chin, tilting your face up so that he can see it clearly. His voice is a low whisper.

“You’re a dangerous little thing, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you have no idea.” You snap the lighter closed and tuck it into Crane’s breast pocket. “Regards from Thomas Wayne. I thought you should have it.” 

Crane looks down at the lighter, dropping his hand away from your chin. His eyes dart back to your face, assessing the weight of your words. Your demeanor is cold and almost amused. Crane swallows, his skin growing cold where the lighter now sits. 

“Where did you get this, Miss Vale?”

“Not only do I want what’s rightfully mine, you deserve what they took from you too. Think of this as my promise and a peace offering.” You pat his breast pocket, your face getting dangerously close to his. He flinches when you touch him and clenches his jaw. He looks down to your hand patting his pocket and raises a sharp brow. 

“And you’re willing to help me get my revenge?” 

“It would be mine too.” 

“Against Thomas Wayne?” 

“Against the whole city… but especially the Waynes.” You whisper, managing to take a step closer. Crane chuckles, admiring the way your eyes darken when you speak so severely. He leans down a little closer to your ear, his breath ruffling your hair. 

“A pretty, vengeful vixen. I’m starting to like you, Miss Vale.” 

“Now, now, now-” You push him back with a sly smile, your teeth showing, “We’re business partners, not fuck buddies. You’ll need to behave yourself if you want to make this work.” 

Crane actually laughs, though the sound is raspy and dark, it’s still a laugh. He allows you to push him back and holds up his hands in mock surrender, sitting back on the edge of his desk. 

“Feisty. Ok, I’ll play the part. No need to worry, Miss Vale… though the thought is… tempting.”

“Not intoxicating? I’ll just have to try harder next time,” you smile as you pull on your coat from the chair. Dr. Crane watches you from his desk, his eyes following your arms as you slide into the quilted coat. 

“Oh you know exactly how intoxicating you are. Don’t be coy, Miss Vale.” 

“Maybe I’m just a Jack of All Trades,” you shrug and move to the door. Crane crosses his arms over his chest again and nods slowly. 

“Yes, I’m starting to see that now. You’re full of surprises.” He can’t help but look you up and down again, his eyes lingering on the shape of your thighs or the angular way you hold your head. He wets his lips, wetting his pallet. 

“Well, here’s another one,” you smile, fully aware of his arousal, “Falcone was taken into custody today. Someone, and I’m not saying who, may have given him a razor blade. He’ll need a psych evaluation and you need to be the one to do it. I don’t trust him to keep his mouth shut if this goes to trial.” 

Crane raises an eyebrow, impressed by your thoroughness. 

“Falcone in custody. Hmm. A razor blade? What a coincidence...” he starts to wonder exactly how far you’re willing to take this revenge of yours. He can feel himself getting excited in more ways than one. 

“You’ve got the right idea, Miss Vale. I’d be more than happy to take over his evaluation.”

“Good. I’ll arrange for you to administer it between your lectures. You’re such a busy man. Professor by day, psychopath by night. I don’t know how you do it.” 

“I’ve made a lot of sacrifices,” he answers cooly, calmly, “As have you, it seems.” 

Something passes between you, something shifts once again in your eyes. 

“Goodnight, Dr. Crane.”  

You start to leave but turn around briefly to speak, your eyes growing softer. You’re actually capable of feelings too, not just well-worded threats. “Don’t lose the lighter… it’s the one he used…” 

You leave the sentence in the air between you, hoping he’ll understand what you mean. Dr. Crane seems to freeze again as he processes what you’re saying. He puts his hand against his breast pocket to feel the outline of the lighter. He clenches his jaw and finally nods. 

“Goodnight, Miss Vale.” 

You nod once and open the door, pushing against its heavy weight. 

“I’ll be in touch,” you say over your shoulder and Crane fixes his glasses. 

“I’m sure.”

Only when the door closes behind you and you’re walking down the dim hallway do you allow yourself to exhale. Dr. Crane was so much more impressive in person… and so much more attractive. You had almost faltered on your plans until you remembered how much you needed him, and how important it was that the two of you meet. Though you must admit, acting unbothered has never been harder. You run your hand through your hair and slip out of the science building on campus. You’re wearing a quilted coat, more for professionalism than warmth. It’s late Spring in Gotham and it’s too warm for a coat. In fact, there’s a heatwave coming in the next week. But you keep the coat on because the color is dark, helping you blend into the shadows of every building in the city. 

The moment the door closes, Crane finds himself almost unable to breathe. He’s nearly shaking and feels strangely off-balance like you’ve completely turned his world on its head. He walks back around his desk to his chair and slowly lowers himself into the seat. He exhales shakily and pinches the bridge of his nose above his glasses. Part of him wants you, the other part wants you gone. With a sigh, Crane pulls the lighter out of his pocket and places it on the desk, looking at it while his thoughts run wild. 

You hadn’t needed to say the words for him to piece it together: this was the lighter that Thomas Wayne used to kill his mother, and by extension, his father. The knowledge of what you’ve given him finally sinks in and he takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching again. He feels a cold shiver rush over him, a thousand thoughts running through his mind at once. He can’t tell if he wants to cry or scream or laugh. Crane reaches out and grabs the lighter, his knuckles turning white. He thinks of you, of your audacity to crash his carefully constructed life with your own plans of revenge. He plays with the lighter, his lips pulled into an unhappy snarl. But the longer he thinks about you, the more he feels himself growing to like you. As much trouble as you could cause him, he liked how fast you thought on your feet and how good you looked in that dress. 

Hours seem to pass before he can slowly regain control of himself enough to clear his head a little. He’s trying to understand you… he wants to trust you but there’s a very loud part of his mind that’s screaming not to. He can’t deny the fact that you’ve completely enthralled him, in fact, the thought of seeing you again makes his heart pound in perverse excitement. He tosses the lighter back on the desk and runs a hand over his face. 

“Damn you…"

[nxtaliaistyping]

Being The Riddler’s favourite camgirl <3

18+ nsfw, stalker behavior

While you weren’t the most experienced cam girl out there, you did your best. And you had to say, you were pretty good.

Three nights a week you streamed yourself, setting the camera up facing your bed as you pleasured yourself in several unique ways for your audience’s pleasure. Whether it was using a vibrator your audience controlled via donations, or fucking yourself on a dildo while you moaned out the names of the several men (and occasional women) who paid. It wasn’t your main job, but it certainly gave you a secondary source of income.

Edward wasn’t typically a man who bothers himself with sites such as the one you post on. After all, indulging in sexual desire via his own hand seemed primitive, an impulse that weaker men have. But alas, his body sometimes needs a release, so he makes do. Online porn doesn’t particularly do it for him, too fake and sterile, not to mention the obscenely stupid noises.

So when he stumbled upon the cam girl website, he figured he’d give it a go, grumbling to himself at how annoying it was to have to deal with such base desires. He clicks through a few girls, finding some satisfaction in whatever way they touch themselves, before receiving a perfectly ordinary orgasm.

It’s only the next time he feels horny, finding the site again that he finds you. Something about you immediately draws his attention, your soft curves unique in the glow of your room. He watches closely as you circle your clit slowly with your finger, just teasing yourself as you read the messages from various men.

“You’re too sweet, thank you.” You say quietly, and Edward knows deep down he needs to hear your voice again, hand instinctively wrapping around his shaft.

He reads the comment you were referring to and scoffs. The imbecile couldn’t even spell gorgeous correctly, and you’re flattered? Clearly you weren’t used to actual compliments.

Although his attention is back on your body as you start your session properly, hand rubbing your clit as the other teases your twitching hole.

“So boys, what’ll it be tonight? I have a new dildo I wanted to try…or perhaps a vibe?”

You watch as the responses pour in, as well as a few donations. You giggle as a clear answer wins, and you grab the dildo. Lubing it up, you give a cheeky wink to the camera as you slowly sink down on it.

Edward quickly grabs the bottom of his shaft tightly, for once not wanting to cum too quickly. He stares at your cunt greedily taking in the toy, before you bounce up and down slowly.

“Oh…it fills me up so good.” You say quietly, moaning when it hits the right spot.

He’s drawn to the noises you make, how you aren’t constantly playing up the pleasure. It makes the moans that do escape your pretty red lips all the more sweet. Pumping himself once again, he wishes he could see your face properly without the masquerade mask you keep on.

As per the viewers requests, you either speed up or slow down depending on the donations. You bring yourself to orgasm once, but your audience want you to overstimulate yourself, so you lay on your side and thrust the dildo in and out of your pussy.

“Fuck, can you hear how wet I am?” You say provocatively, bringing the phone closer so everyone can hear the sloppy sounds of your cunt getting fucked.

That’s all it takes for Edward to cum ropes over his fist and stomach, panting at one of the most intense orgasms he’s been able to give himself. And much to his surprise (and annoyance), he stays to watch the end of the stream, watching you cum a second time before waving goodbye to everyone, blowing some kisses.

He’s hooked, checking your profile and making a mental note of when you stream. Over the next week, he catches most of your sessions, and by the third one he actually sends a donation.

“A-ah…thank you Edward, mmm that means I can turn this up to…o-oh my god…”

He actually shivers when you say his name, watching your eye roll back as the vibrator stimulates your clit and g spot at the same time. Realising he’s becoming almost addicted, he can’t bring himself to care as once again he’s cumming all over himself.

But it isn’t enough to watch you, he needs to see your face, to know who you are. So he hacks your profile, running a trace on your name and location. Oh good, you live in Gotham too…and that’s what your face looks like unobstructed. God you’re as pretty as he imagined. And your name is pretty too, everything about you. Even the fact you’re a college student, oh you get good grades by the look of things. Of course you’re smart, as if his head would be turned by someone dim.

Now, the pleasure he receives from your streams has intensified. He knows who you really are, and he still wants you. These other men wouldn’t want you, they just want a fantasy, an unreal version of you. But not Edward. No he can treat you right, give you money that these idiots can’t dream of, fuck you better than any of them could. He just needs to show you. That’s all.

And as he hacks several security cameras outside of your apartment building, he knows his chance will be coming soon.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Can I request a Gotham Riddler who's love language is gift giving and they give Riddler a question marked pin just before he goes to stage.

'MOVES,

-GOTHAM!EDWARD NYGMA X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; he's not used to being loved.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!edward x female reader. pure fluff!!! wrote headcanons cuz my inbox is overflowing so I hope that's okay!!! Ed being surprised since he's typically the giver in his relationships, hints of obsessive and dramatic eddie.

♫ “I know that you're scared someone's gonna ruin you / I'ma put some goddamn moves on you babe / I know you need it.” Moves by Suki Waterhouse

⋆ You are his number one cheerleader.

⋆ He feeds off the affection you give him, gets practically drunk on it. Both sides of him are reeling from the high you give him.

⋆ Eddie baby is typically the giver in all of his relationships; his love language is most definetly acts of service. He was so used to spending hours cooking for Kristen and helping around the house with Isabella. He is no different with you; any problem that arises, he is there.

⋆ Ed will do the dishes, cook, clean. He's a bit of a housewife. After being alone for so long when he was in the GCPD, he learned to take care of himself and he learned to do it well. Besides, he's a bit of a neat freak already, so he doesn't mind whatsoever. You'll wake up to expertly cooked breakfasts, tea or coffee or water (whichever you prefer) filled in china cups.

⋆ Now, what he isn't used to is someone reciprocating the act of love. Kristen and Isabella, put simply, didn't do very much. They didn't live long enough to do so

⋆ When you give you're first gift to him, he cocks his head and narrows his eyes. Give him a second to process.

⋆ Then his eyes light up with a smile so big and you're scared he might combust.

⋆ From then on, from each one of your gifts- he's spouting numerous "I can't thank you enough,"s and even apologies. The feeling of being spoiled is so foreign to him that when he is- he feels like he needs to reciprocate it tenfold.

⋆ "Are you sure there isn't anything else I can help with...?" After he's already ran all your errands for you, made your bed, and given you the best massage of your life.

⋆ His favorite gift by far has to be the delicate question mark brooch.

⋆ Eddie's all about appearances, and when he's on a special "riddler high" he's all about how he looks.

⋆ He's a BIG fan of presentation.

⋆ So right when he's about to hijack the Macbeth stage, and you come up to him, he's hanging off your every word- eyeing the box in your hands mysteriously.

⋆ You present the gift to him, and he slowly opens it- careful not to damage it. Anything from you is precious and deserves to be worshipped.

⋆ When he see's it he nearly doubles over, mouth hanging in agape before spreading into an open-mouthed grin. A soft gasp and chuckle leaves his mouth.

⋆ He's turning to you, smile never leaving his face. Before you know it, he's on you- confidence and adrenaline running high before the big show.

⋆ He kisses your cheek, holding you close to him, practically breathing you in. His head is nuzzling into the crook of your neck and gloved hands are gripping you tight.

⋆ "Oh, thank you very much." He's growling out against your ear, both genuine and a bit unnerving. He's already thinking of ways to spoil you once he's finished up this little activity of his.

⋆ 100% asks you to put it on him, reveling in the feeling of you grabbing his suit jacket and adjusting his tie. He's looking at you like you're the only good thing in the world. And you're all his.

⋆ You give him one final kiss before he has to go.

⋆ "Dashing." You remark, looking up at him through your lashes. Oh, you're gonna be the death of him. "Break a leg."

⋆ He's giggling like a school girl at you're words, nodding.

⋆ He is gonna make this his best show ever for you.

[riddle-me-ri]

a/n: I totally didn’t forget the result of my poll…a..couple months back, lmao. I’ve actually always been thinking about it but never had a chance to sit down and get them done lol. Starting off strong with the riddle bois! Not sure who's up next, but no worries, all the rogues I write for will have a chance to shine!

Also not entirely back to fully uploading like I used to but may upload like once in a blue moon especially when the inspiration strikes me or if I need a small break from drawing lol

Content Warning: mentions of non-gender specific nudity and some allusions to sexual activity but nothing explicit.

The Riddlers React to Reader Going to Bed Naked

Arkhamverse Riddler:

- Well, first things first he’s got to be willing to go to bed.

- You figured you could have an interesting surprise waiting for him when he finally gives into the sweet call of slumber.

- Edward doesn't notice at first–basically running on fumes as he gets under the covers.

- It isn't until he tries to get comfortable he notices.

- And he is extremely shocked.

- How–what–what's the logic behind this? This is ridiculous!

- He almost has half a mind to wake you up and demand you put and demand you put something on.

- Yet he somehow even feels too tired to even do that.

- Ed will deny it in the morning, but you cannot deny that he did enjoy nestling into your side and into your skin.

Reevesverse/Dano Riddler:

- Oh..uhh…oh wow…umm…is that really comfortable?

- Gotham can be unbearingly cold at night and his apartment doesn't have the best heater.

- Edward is still very new to this level of intimacy–

- His brain will go into overdrive, trying to figure out if you're trying to tell him something.

- Are-are you trying to initiate…what he thinks you are?

- As his head spins, his face is flushed red.

- Edward will try to work up the courage to ask what this is about.

- You will have to explain to him if you were teasing him or just trying a new sensation.

- Either way, he will understand or try to, just give him a heads up next time…you almost gave him a heart attack.

Gotham Riddler:

- Is that really comfortable? 2.0

- His whole pale face is as red as a ripe tomato.

- Eddie will likely assume you aren't feeling well…that…that's the only explanation.

- Are you getting chills? Are you overheating? Do you feel nauseous? Here let him take your temperature.

- You really can't help but laugh and find his concern incredibly endearing.

- Ed is relieved to hear you're fine, but is now back to surprise when he realizes you were just teasing him.

- What…what should he do? For once he kinda leans into his confident alter ego for guidance.

- Once you two get closer and he gets to feel the softness of your skin, he's immediately hooked.

- Eddie can't just have his hands touching you, he wants all of his skin touching your own.

BTAS Riddler:

- Man's face is as red as his hair.

- Well, well, well…this is um…quite the surprise.

- Where in the world did you get this idea?

- Eddie will try to keep a confident and collected aura about him.

- But he's absolutely quivering on the inside, his heart about to beat out of his chest.

- His eyes rake over your body, appreciatively, until you tore the covers from his hand and snuggle into the mattress as you tuck the comforter back underneath you.

- You tease him and say he can't see or touch until he joins you also naked.

- Well, who's he to turn down a deal like that?

- Eddie snatches the covers and hops into bed, quick to wrap you in his arms and kiss youwhich muffled your laughs.

Zero Year/Capullo Riddler:

- Oh my God fucking FINALLY

- As much as he does enjoy the occasional strip tease…

- Having you already naked makes it a gazillion times easier to get to the main event.

- I imagine this Ed only sleeps in his boxers (briefs)...(and question mark socks)

- So when he sees you naked he's very quick to discard his underwear.

- If you weren't trying to have sex by sleeping nude then…good luck trying to convince him otherwise.

- Or trying to get his hands off of you…like at all.

- But come on, were you really expecting anything less?

Telltale Riddler:

- Quirks an eyebrow.

- He's not sure if he's amused, confused, or annoyed.

- And you can't quite tell either at first.

- Of course not one to give in to your antics..

- He asks you plainly what you're doing and what you were expecting out of this “surprise”

- You shrug, maybe you wanted to catch him off guard, maybe you've been getting too hot cause he won't let you turn the ac on (cause if it's hitting anything below 80°F he claims to be freezing)

- Ed will either call your bluff and actually get into bed with you and not give you any attention…you will have to work for that.

- Or he'll tell you to put some clothes on or he won't share a bed with you.

- OR if you catch him on a particularly trying night he may just pounce immediately.

Young Justice Riddler:

- *blue screen of death*

- *dial up internet sounds*

- Most likely to genuinely have his nose slowly bleed.

- He's confused on what to do or how to respond.

- Like not that he doesn't…err…appreciate you letting him see you but…why?

- Also like Gotham Riddler and wonders if maybe you're overheating or not feeling well.

- When you tell him you just wanted to tease him, he's practically melting.

- Oh well, yeah you…you did very successfully.

- You'll likely have to drag him to bed with you and proceed to take off his clothes for him so he can join you properly.

[angelofthenight]

Ed: My (s/o)’s been listening to these true crime podcasts and now they know too much

Ed: they just said,

You: “bodies don’t float if you puncture the lungs”

Ed: So if I go missing TELL THE COPS THEY DID IT

[h4unted-d4rling]