Scarecrowswife

✩ Hi, I realized I forgot to do an intro so here it goes. I prefer to be called Riddler on the internet (it's my gamer tag usually) ✩ I mainly will post fanfic works on here (I really only do x reader as I don’t care for most character x character). Most of my works will likely be riddler x reader because I'm the best at portraying him though I'll also want to do some Scarecrow x reader, Two face x reader, or Harley x reader in the future. Reader will be afab in my NSFW fics though I won't probably use any gender specific pronouns in my SFW so it can be read as gender neutral. I’m still relatively new to writing fanfics in particular so I apologize if it’s OOC. I’ll try to start posting more often. I can take requests for character X readers so long as I’m familiar with the character enough. ✩ I might occasionally shit post outlast trials screenshots or my OCs or what not, but I’ll try to keep it to a minimum and focus on fanfics. ✩ I’m deep in DC related stuff as well as Outlast Trials Related stuff! I’m always looking for people to play trials with so I made a trials related discord (though I manage to yap quite a bit about dc as well on there) so join if you’re down to clown with me on trials (I’m pretty skill issued). —> https://discord.gg/dP8qRtcm ✩ DNI if you write/read non con, incest, or p*do shit. I don't need disgusting, vile people on my page that see my trauma as porn categories.

A/N: This fic has managed to somehow worm its way into my mind. I honestly really like the idea I have for this fic moving forward so I’ve decided  to try and add sequels, perhaps even adapt it into a longer story with regular chapter updates and what not (if I do this I’ll probably post weekly updates). I’m still testing out the waters since I really struggle with finding motivation to regularly update but I’m sure positive feedback will help me be able to update more often. I am basing Crane slightly off his Batman 89 echoes appearance though I will probably add aspects of Fear State Crane and other comics in general later on. The storyline will probably end up taking inspiration from a multitude of different comics or maybe go off on its own leg and even feature multiple rogues (ofc riddler is gonna be included bc how could I write a goon fic and not include the one and only) if I continue regularly updating it as I want it to end up developing as a more slow burn on the romance side of things while a bit more fast burn on lust. I’m listening to Touch Myself by Genitortures while I write that’s probably how the reader feels about Dr. Crane overall. If you haven’t read part one go to that before this!

ᥫ᭡ Crane has been avoiding you since your last session so you decide to arrange a little get together ♡₊˚

“I want all the files pulled and delivered to my office instantly, do you understand me?” Crane barked into the phone, demanding harshly from the quivering Gotham Asylum warden.

He had been on this phone for over an hour, demanding to get ahold of your records that had been supposedly “misplaced”.

“I’m afraid that’s classified-“

“As her current psychiatrist, it’s vital I know all the information regarding her case so I can properly decide how to asses and treat her. Pull the files. What did her previous psychiatrist diagnose her under?”

Astounding silence followed his question before the warden awkwardly answered, “He didn’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“He didn’t diagnose her with anything. He couldn’t. See, Dr. Crane, she had a tendency to remain painfully silent, not interested in engaging with any of us. We figured we’d just keep her here and keep trying different medications to get a result but then she got her hands on matches and   The entire recreational room went up in flames.”

Crane clicked his tongue, processing the frantic rambling of the warden as he took note of your arsonist tendency that hadn’t even been mentioned to him when you got thrown in his care. His index and middle finger pressed against his temple, massaging it gently as his brain was starting to hurt from the blubbering idiot on the phone. 

“And you didn’t think to mention any of this before shipping her over?”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Crane. My assistant must’ve interfered with sending the records over after the fire that your patient caused. Part of the records office was damaged as well and file must’ve gotten misplaced.”

There it was again, that same word he heard on the phone over an hour earlier causing the spare pencil crane clutched between his hands to snap under the pressure of his thumb. Just what kind of fool did this warden take him for? Misplaced? The record office conveniently also getting damaged despite being located two separate floors below the recreational room? It was all too convenient for Crane’s liking. Though he gotten let on a hint that he was catching on to the warden desperately attempting to withhold information from him.

Through gritted teeth and a glaring smile he forced onto his face, he responded as coldly as usual, keeping an air of professionalism, “Thank you for your time. If you remember anything else regarding her, you have my number so shoot me a call.”

With that he slammed the wall phone back into the receiver, his desk lightly shaking under the force. One of his hands swept through the fluffy strands of umber hair as he stared mindlessly at the chicken scratch he scribbled down on the page in front of him. He made a mental note to bring up your arsonist tendencies the next time he saw you. 

After last session, he approved of your movement to solitary as punishment for your conduct around the asylum in general. Normally he’d have to increase the number of sessions with you to twice a week (much like he did after every one of your previous infractions), but now he found himself avoiding seeing you. That clinical side of him was ever so curious at what the effect would be denying you that attention you seemed desperate to earn from him. Just how far would you go in order to see him? 

“Dr. Crane?” A voice snapped Crane out of his thoughts, his gaze instantly lifting to meet the panicked expression of the pale faced orderly. 

“Did something happen? You seem… frightened,” Jon responded with a distinct hint of emphasis on the word frightened.

“You’ve gotta come quick to solitary. She’s got the nurse!”

With a cryptic message, the orderly scrambled back down the narrow corridor clearly expecting Jon to follow him. Momentarily, Crane held back before pulling up the white lab coat that had been crudely draped across the back of his chair. He slipped the material over his arms before joining the man to see whatever commotion (he was almost certain you were responsible for) was unfolding. Upon reaching the solitary wing, there on the broken tiles lay the head nurse with a bottle of pills scattered around her, and the white hat askew on her blonde locks. Crimson guzzled from the torn flesh of her nose like a faucet as one teal manicured hand reached up to press against the wound. Her shrieking only amplified upon the realization of the severity of her wound. One wretched finger pointed over towards where you were being restrained by several guards, thrashing around wildly like an animal.

“She bit me!” Hissed the bitter, terrified woman while continuing her accusatory pointing.

Surely enough red droplets coated the corners of your lips and your chin, occasionally dripping onto the white tiles beneath your feet. Great, now he was going to have to add biter to your chart alongside arsonist as if you weren’t causing enough trouble without those traits. Upon making eye contact with Crane, your flailing body stilled in the rough grasps of the two orderlies, an eerie grin forming on your face as you stared at the doctor, your doctor.

“I thought I made it abundantly clear to refrain from visiting her alone,” he criticized the careless nurse whose shrieking had silenced into a mixture of sobs and mindless gibberish.

He turned callously towards the guards, silently motioning them to bring you back. The guards followed suite with little resistance from your rather peaceful, obliging body. Rather than stopping at his office like usually, he extended the visit down towards his laboratory, gesturing they drop you inside on a dental looking chair. 

“Did I earn myself a dose of that toxin of yours for my… poor behavior, doc?” Gingerly, you interrogated, seeming freakishly alright with being pumped full of hallucinogenics and left at Dr. Crane’s mercy.

He remained silent though, adjusting the projector behind your head and dimming the room just enough before reaching around with one outstretched palm clutching a few facial tissues to wipe away the vermillion coating the bottom half of your face. 

“No, as cathartic as such a sight would be, it’s not what I’ve brought you here for. This is a standard fear test, just to get a general idea of what I’m… dealing with. All I’ll be doing is showing you a series of images and then studying your reaction.” 

The sudden scraping of plastic wheels against the floor caused your eyes to dart towards the side where Crane pushed an odd cart right beside where you’re sitting.

“Take off your shirt.”

“What?”

“If you’re thinking I’m going to fuck you, you’d be sourly mistaken. I need to attach these to track your heart rate.” 

Despite the denial of any lustful reason for his instruction, you couldn’t help but feel a bit jittery at the thought of slightly undress in front of Crane. A light smirk played on your lips as you reached for the hem of your shirt, tugging it upwards sharply and over your head in one fluid motion. He grasped the discarded fabric, tossing it carelessly on a dust coated wooden table in the corner of the room. Despite his entirely professional reasons for his instructions, his eyes couldn’t help but fall to the hint of cleavage sticking out crudely from that thin scrap of lace you called a bra. A few scratches marred at your skin that had Jon’s attention perking ever so slightly. Potential self mutilation? Did you get in another fight? Observantly, his thumb reached down to press against the scar tissues.

“Someone do that to you?”

Your blank eyes stared up at his expression, eyebrows raising in mild surprise at his curiosity towards the injuries.

“Are you concerned for my wellbeing, doc? How truly altruistic of you!”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

However, you fall back into that eerie quietness you commonly fell into whenever approached with a topic you didn’t wish to elaborate upon. It grated on Dr. Crane’s nerves far harsher than he’d like to admit though he knew better than to pry. Perhaps when he finally unleashed that toxin upon you and studied you in your purest form of terror you’d finally give him the answers he’d been demanding. 

Working efficiently, he approached you and attached the stickers as a green line showed up on the monitor tracking each beat of your heart. Lightly and diligently, his fingers ran over the slides, dusting them off before sticking them inside the projector. His spare hand reached for the switch, flicking off the lights entirely as he began the slides of images, noting what your heart rate is at with every flash. The beginning slides were almost always normal portraying a group of people playing volleyball at the beach or a family or any other general, sappy life event an average Gothamite might encounter before progressing into darker topics. Later on a few slides showed graphic depictions of a mother’s murder or a man being burned alive or any other genuinely disturbing thing to witness for the average mind. Likewise, your heart rate remained steadier than ever, eyes appearing slightly glassy as you carefully studied whatever was being presented to you. Dr. Crane found himself mildly bored and dissatisfied with your mundane reaction to the images, having hoped to see that look of sweet distress marring your expression. Finally, the ending slides were almost always the same: a picture of Batman was shown followed by a picture of Scarecrow. Having expected another unenthusiastic response, his mind was half paying attention but that’s when he saw a spike in the reading just as he clicked onto the last image. Your heart rate had jumped up drastically, fingers digging into the metal arms of the chair as you began violently seizing and shaking your head from side to side, eyes forcibly closed and refusing to stare at the image on screen. Your breathing had grown labored just at the mere sight of the Scarecrow, the sight of you so raw so emotional causing Crane’s cock to twitch slightly beneath the fabric of his pants. 

“I can’t- fuck! I can’t look!”

“Shh, shh… open your eyes for me. I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s an important part of the examination.”

This was the response he had been perilously searching for: seeing you at your weakest, trembling like you were stranded in the Alaskan snow, pupils as wide as possible, and the heavy pounding of your heart attempting to escape from your chest. He circled like a starved lion cautiously peering at a lone gazelle, his hands on either side of your arms to keep you firmly planted back in the seat.

“Good. You’re being so brave. Just keep staring at the scarecrow. I want to try something to help you get over this troublesome fear of yours. Breathe for me.”

The heart rate monitor had begun beeping out of control, the readings spiking far off the chart as Crane’s hands brushed gently up and down your arms in a mock soothing motion though you continued vigorously shaking beneath his touch.

“Fear and arousal often go hand in hand… with the increased heart rate, increased alertness… that rush of adrenaline can easily be mistaken for a different sort of excitement. Perhaps that’s the key towards solving your dilemma,” he softly murmured in your ear.

Your mind however was still in deep overdrive at the image of a lone Scarecrow in a field including such a level of phobia in you at the mildest provocation that it was deliciously tempting for the doctor. He knew you would listen to his instruction at the right set of motivation. After all, he saw just how deep and mad your attraction towards him drove you to do such devious things. So once more he was testing your devotion as if studying bacteria in a Petri dish to see how certain stimuli (in this case his instruction to doing unpleasant things) impacted the experiment. 

“I want you to touch yourself while looking right at the scarecrow.”

“Gnh, doc, it’s too much! No more.”

“Persevere. You want to get better, don’t you? If you quit now you’ll be nothing but a lost cause and utter waste of my time.” 

It was clear to Crane just how needy you were for his approval, for him to be proud of you. Despite the anguished look on your face, you obeyed him, allowing your hands to trail down your body towards the pants of your uniform, easing your fingers towards your entrance only to hear a slight scoff from Crane, practically being able to feel him shaking his head behind you. 

“So modest and so confused… do I need to spell it out for you? Pull down your pants and underwear. No need to get so flustered. This is entirely done for medical , altruistic purposes only.”

He didn’t have a purpose for having you expose yourself to him though he found the event much more humiliating that way and a lot more accessible for his perverse fantasies of you screaming out from both pleasure and fear. Part of him was doing it to see just how far you’d be willing to go to satisfy him. By now your breathing had calmed a little despite the rapid and aggressive thumping of your heart rate. Crane frowned slightly at the notion, feeling disheartened that you were getting slightly more desensitized to the image of the scarecrow even if that was the end goal of this treatment. 

His finger clicked on the slide, moving it to a different picture of the same scarecrow to hear you gasping once more followed by panicked shallow breaths. Per his command, you had stripped your lower half entirely bare for his viewership, a hint of amusement glimmering in Crane’s eyes at the blatant obedience. Your fingers worked slowly, quivering as you tentatively eased one digit inside yourself, eyes fluttering at the sensation much to Crane’s disapproval. His fingers were on your face in an instant, peeling the lids of your eyes open and positioning your head towards the image of the Scarecrow projected out in front of you.

“Incapable of keeping your eyes open? It’s a wonder you even know how to touch yourself,” he chided, ensuring to keep your senses focusing on the image that evoked such an innate, distressed reaction from you. 

Despite the shakiness of breath and the consistent sweat pooling on your palms, you kept pleasuring yourself per Crane’s command. Easing and stroking yourself with your thumb gently pressing on the bundle of nerves peeking out from your hood while your index and middle moved in a steady circular rhythm. Crane occasionally switched the slide to another closer up of a Scarecrow whenever he felt you getting too eased at the image in order to keep you in that constant state of unknowing terror all the while he analytically viewed every micro response, ever spiking on the heart rate readings, every goosebump covering your skin, every squelching thrust of your fingers inside you. 

His own body had begun responding accordingly to the sight as he felt the stiffness forming in his groin. His hands discreetly adjusted himself. The last thing he needed was giving into your little attraction, showing even the mildest of reciprocation for you could result in your unpredictable clinginess cracking up even more if he allowed your mind to entertain the thought of him sharing a hint of sexual desire.  

“You’re doing so well, just keep going, keep being a good girl,” he encouraged, providing you enough positive reinforcement to keep you at bay despite the distressing nature of this act. 

Anytime he felt as if your eyes would close, he was there beside you to fixate your chin and gaze in place at the projection. He could tell you were beginning to rapidly approach your peak with the increased speed of movement, the throbbing pulse of your clit and the way you’d begun moaning out. By now, your reactions were more arousal based rather than fear based even as you continued to observe the Scarecrow. 

“Doctor-! Oh Doctor! Doctor Crane!” You panted pathetically, continuing that steady rhythm of playing with yourself while letting out an assortment of unintelligible curses and whines. 

With a final push of your fingers, the throbbing sensation had reached its peak resulting in an eruption of orgasmic fluid, the essence coating your fingers and palm while you tensely extracted your fingers from your wetness. Subsequently, he switched off the monitor and flickered the overhead lights back on the room. Once more, he tossed several tissues towards you.

“Very successful session for the day, you’ve done good. Now clean yourself up and get dressed. The guards will be waiting outside to escort you back to your cell.”

A/N: First Crane fic! I recently re-read Batman 89 and Crane was so fine in that. So here’s a little treat! Tbh I’m really liking the way things turned out so if this fic receives enough attention I’m considering turning it into a longer story if y’all would be interested. 

ᥫ᭡ You’re a new patient at Arkham Asylum that has been a thorn in Crane’s side ♡₊˚

Crane’s lips pursed together into a thin line, his chin resting against his hand as he stared bleakly down at the sleek surface of the intercom. His left finger hovered over the switch though he briefly paused, waiting for the cue of footsteps shuffling down the unusually quiet halls. His eyes briefly shifted up to the clock counting the minutes that had passed since he had been abruptly notified of the discrepancy in the recreational area when you had decided to pester and rile up the rest of the inmates in order to enact chaos. At first he considered this was another escape attempt though you proudly stood by with your chest puffed out as you witnesses the chaos unfold of your deliberate set up, playing all the patients like chess pieces. So what was the end goal here? Was it merely a set up to irritate him, to make his blood temperature rise to the point of which he finally snapped and sent you in for his *unorthodox* treatment? Or was it a ploy just to get under his skin enough to the point of which he was constantly pondering what drove you, what was your end goal in all this chaos you ensued throughout the halls of Arkham?

The heavy thinking of boots with the gentle rustling of unwilling, forced steps caught Crane’s attention. His finger snapped down on the button as he spoke loudly into the intercom.

“Send her inside quickly, without restraints. It’s about time I had some one-on-one with her.”

He knew that the ginger headed burly guard was going to open his mouth to protest the orders at the sheer idiocy of them, so he chimed in before he could get a singular word out.

“*Quickly*. I prefer things to be handled right on schedule.”

The oak door to his office creaked open as you approached rather timidly inside. The guards that had been firmly grasping your arms released you, giving you a sharp shove inside the room before shutting the door behind you, leaving you all alone for Crane’s dissection. Despite how confidently you usually carried yourself around the asylum, you appeared withdrawn, hands clasped together in front of you as you hesitated before seating yourself on the ruby leather couch for patients. Crane was fascinated by the shift in your demeanor, the way you kept fidgeting with the strands of your hair and picking at your nails as if you were nervous, as if you were *frightened*.

“This must be your 15th time spending the night in solitary and yet you’ve only been with us for two months,” he coolly began, reaching down with one hand to sift through his file cabinet and pull out the Manila folder with your name printed in tiny font across the side table. 

“Is this the best attempt you have for interrogating me, Doctor?” You taunted, that slyness of your typical attitude slipping into your tone even as you remained all shy.

“I’m not here for an interrogation. That would be giving you exactly what you want: an opening to irritate me,” he paused, rising from his seat and calmly stepping out from his desk, “As your psychiatrist, I am merely concerned about your difficulty of settling in to your life here at Arkham.”

“Concerned?” You repeated, a hint of a scoff lingering in your throat as Crane continued his pacing, glancing out the bared windows for a moment.

“You‘ve been resilient to your treatment. Cognitive behavioral therapy has shown no change in behavior nor have the medications that you’ve been taking since you had been transferred over to us.”

“So observant, doc, I’m impressed,” the flatness of your tone conveyed sarcasm as it was clear you weren’t so eager to crack under pressure despite looking as if you’d shatter into twenty million pieces any second.

He briefly paused his meandering, cautiously approaching towards your lounging form, observing you with a keen interest.

“I’m thinking of starting you on a new treatment plan. One that I’m positive with lead to at least some improvement I can chart.” 

“If you’re thinking about gassing me up, doc forget it. I know what kinds of activities you get up to in that private lab of yours.”

At your words, he paused before a Cheshire like grin overtook his face, not at the slightest concerned over how you found out about his little… hobby.

“I see you’ve been warned already about what happens to unruly inmates. So then why continue to push me and cause these frequent outbursts, hm?” 

You remained silent, clearly not interested in giving up your little secret reason for all this chaos. Just that mere act of defiance was already gnawing at the back of his ever curious mind. His smile dropped, those lips of his tightening back together as he leaned towards you with a horrifying glare meant to intimidate.

“Nothing is stopping me from releasing 2 milligrams of my freshest batch of toxin right here in my office and then taking note of your writhing form seizing and convulsing profusely on the ground. And who would believe a disobedient little thing like you?”

By now he was practically breathing down your neck, seething with power at the proximity, the way he could easily raise up his arm and click the button to douse you in fumes. His arms were positioned on either side of you, pinning you back against the seat. You didn’t squirm though, your eyes raising up to gaze back into his.

“But wouldn’t that kill this… *delicious, depraved* tension between us, doc? I’d hate for things to be cut short.”

Crane’s eyes widened at the sudden realization at just why you had been doing all these little stunts of yours around the asylum: gaining his attention. Every time you had caused trouble you earned yourself additional sessions with him in which you continued to taunt and play all coy with him. In your own bizarre way, it was as if you were flirting with him, perhaps even considering your sessions more as dates. Crane withdrew from where he had you pinned back against the couch at his epiphany. Part of his brain was satisfied at the resolve of motive for your unpredictable actions ever since you landed here in his asylum, though the other part felt conflicted as for what to do with this revelation.

“Tension implies this is a two way street between us, but I don’t reciprocate whatever carnal, base desires you’ve expressed. Though I find it rather… amusing how far you’ve gone to debase yourself, make an absolute fool of yourself in my asylum just for what? My Attention?” 

He scoffed lightly, chuckling softly to himself as you felt your heart start to sink a little, the erratic beating in your chest was moving at a tempo far faster than you had anticipated. Perhaps it was the way he had so callously brushed off your subtle admission of desire that had got you feel so heated suddenly, your face burning a bright red color while you sat in utter silence. 

“That makes you a far more fascinating case than I originally expected. A troubled patient deciding to purposefully cause more trouble in order to entertain some perverse fantasies of intimacy with their doctor…” he tsked softly, returning back towards his desk with the leather creaking gently as he sat down. 

You watched as that ink pen began to scribble across a blank page, surely adding more observations to your file while he eyed you with curiosity. You felt your lips dry, your throat closing up lightly at the humiliation of this entire event. His eyes sparkled with bemusement as if he was somehow enjoying your discomfort, enjoying the shocking turn of events that happened. That clinical, calculated gaze of his was plotting how to respond to your advances on him. You gripped onto the chair a little tighter, sweat clustering on your palms in nervousness, another sign Crane found thoroughly satisfying. 

“Normally this would mean I’d have to refer you over to another psychiatrist as per protocol. What you’re doing is entirely unhealthy and damages any sort of… progress… of your treatment,” his voice abruptly cut off for a minute as if thinking before continuing, “Though I’m not exactly known for following through on protocol.” 

You considered speaking up though your vocal cords felt as if they’d been severed from your throat by the mere tension of what could potentially happen next between the two of you. You’d become holding your breath slightly, anticipating just what he was going to do if not hand you over to another ungrateful psychiatrist.

“Get up and come closer,” he instructed clinically, as if he conducting a lab experiment on your willingness to follow his direct orders. 

A tiny part of you wanted to rebel once more though the overwhelming majority decided to quickly fold, obeying exactly what he said and creeping closer to him cautiously. He gazed up at you, saying nothing for a moment before tapping his knee lightly, the implication clear. Once more, you were like a thoroughly trained dog responding to what you are told. Your legs dangled on either side of his legs as you felt that familiar heat pooling between your legs once more. Crane gently splayed a hand across your lower back to anchor you in place as he observed every microscopic shift in your behavior. He acted as if he was researching, studying just how far your attraction for him went, what it compelled you to do.

“My, you’ve only been on my lap for a mere minute and you’re already humping my leg… fascinating…” he noted out loud making you realize how your hips had been shifting forward against him, grinding into the fabric of his trousers. 

Subconsciously, you couldn’t help yourself. The ache had grown unbearable as you felt your clit throbbing in time with the pulsing of your heart. So here you were, pressing yourself against him like an animal in heat, your hips moving at a steady back and forth rhythm while Crane continued that calculating observation of every movement you made. Soft panting and quiet moans you attempted to suppress escape your lips, crane intentionally tightened his grip on your back, his nails digging softly into the uniform’s back in order to keep you relatively firmly in place and from squirming off his lap. 

You reached out to grip onto the light brown sweater he was wearing to which he swatted your hands away, clearly showing you hadn’t earned the right to touch him back though he could touch you as much as he needed to observation purposes. By now, you had been moving significantly faster, with a greater sense of urgency and desperation to orgasm. You felt the wetness between your folds as you continued to rub against him with need. Crane reached down with one hand, slipping it right down the front of your uniform to preform one quick, examination. His fingers stroked upwards causing you to instantly whine and arch your back into them. Though as quickly as those icy digits had pressed against your pussy, he retrieved his hand, merely satisfied with his observation. His eyes studied the wetness coating his index and middle finger before his tongue trickled out to lick up the substances and earn yet another moan out of you, watching with such impatience.

“So wet and so close to an orgasm. It’s a shame really, considering that this is the end of our session together for today.“

Your lips opened to protested though he quickly dislodged you from his lap, dismissing you before you could even process what was happening. The two guards that had brought you to his office appeared once more at the door with a begrudging knock to which Crane instructed them inside. Smirking to himself, he watched them escort your frazzled self right out of his office, looking all dazed and as if on the verge of exploding. Once the doors had shut leaving Crane once again alone, he stared back down at his hand resting on his knee. 

I wanted to ask if you could perhaps write something for Riddler x Reader who has ADHD ? Like they genuinely can't focus on shit and forget his riddles after the first 2 words🙏💀

FEEL FREE TO JUST IGNORE THIS IF U DONT FEEL LIKE WRITING IT!!!

 ୨୧ AK!Riddler x ADHD!Reader ୨୧

A/N: Aaa sorry for insanely late reply I hope you haven’t lost interest :(. I meant to write this far sooner but I got caught up in another deep depressive episode from my social isolation. You’re  my first request I’m so happy since I love doing requests! Plus you’re another outlast and dc fan, my two biggest interests :). Anyways, I hope you enjoy! 

ᥫ᭡ You offer to let him test riddles for the bat on you ♡₊˚

“Riddle me this! I can-“

He hadn’t even successfully finished his thought before you interjected his thoughts.

“Has that chair always had that tear in it? I mean last time I was in here I could’ve sworn that-“

“That’s beside the point,” he snapped in annoyance at being interrupted, wanting to get back on track, “I can-“

“That stain, I also don’t remember it from last time.”

You tilted your head to the left, observing the chaotic state of his desk rather than what Edward was desperately trying to convey. By this rate, Edward felt himself growing a sense of rage at your inability to pay him the attention he deserved, not the meaningless clutter in his living quarters or anything else for that matter. He manages to get a grasp of himself, to keep himself from throwing another temper tantrum as he takes a breather and tries it again. This time, Edward moves into your view, stopping in front of you and making direct eye contact, those fiery cobalt eyes locking with yours as if silently pleading for your attention.

“Enough about the chair! Since your inferior mind clearly can’t handle seeing anything insignificant, don’t even look at it! Look at me, my dear,” he criticizes you in that scolding tone of his with his eyebrows furrowing together intensely.

He had moved himself so intimately in front of you that you could hear the soft thumping of his heart and each shallow breath he took. He softened his voice mildly before starting again, “I can be cruel-“

“Your eyes look like the ocean now that you don’t have those googles covering them. And your face, your features, your everything… it’s so much more defined now that I’m seeing you so close.”

A small grin spreads across your lips while Edward lets out a groan of dismay. Too much of his precious time had been spent attempting to get you to pay attention to what he was saying but even as he took away distractions it seemed your mind always found a way to wander. 

“At this rate I wont finish asking a single riddle until morning… especially with your constant interjections as if you have no manners to listen when your superior is addressing you. You either keep that mouth of yours shut until I finish speaking or I will have to find a way to make those insufferable, unruly lips sealed!”

Your head on instinct nodded in agreement to his demands though you couldn’t quite resist the faint smirk on your face at seeing Edward so frusterated over your inability to pay him any mind. Despite knowing how important this was to your boss, it was as if your mind couldn’t help itself, constantly finding another distraction, another thing to focus on. Had that clock always been broken at exactly 12:45? Did Edward just finish that robot on his bench today or was it already assembled yesterday and you just missed it? What about that chalkboard? Was it the equations as last time or had Edward as per usually scratched out equations now useless to him and replaced them? And-

“Well? I know that mind of yours is sluggish and struggles to even muster up the level of competence needed to begin to process my riddles. Even so, this is rather disappointing, my dear. Even with my minimal expectations, you’re somehow managing to be.. subpar.”

A couple of blinks made you snap back into what he was saying, making you realize that your mind had wandered off once more even with Edward practically breathing down your neck in an attempt to lock your gaze on him. Sheepishly, you mumble, “Could you repeat all that, Mr. Nigma, sir?”

His left eye twitched as if he hadn’t heard you quite right or couldn’t accept what he was hearing. By now, his blood pressure practically boiled at the fact that you had somehow, once more missed his riddle. Firmly, he grasped your chin , stilling your movements as he leaned in even further leaving only a microscopic centimeter of space between the two of you. Your eyes had no choice but to focus on him and him alone now with him this close to your body. He surprisingly didn’t scold you, probably because it seemed the proximity was starting to have an effect on Edward himself, not that he’d ever admit it.

“I can be cruel-“

By now, you didn’t care what he had to say anymore. Instead your thoughts drifted to an entirely new topic: what his lips would taste like on yours. It was as if the room had fallen silent when leaned forward slightly, making your intention clear before capturing his mouth while he was in the middle of speaking. For once, Edward looked a mixture of stunned, speechless, and flustered with his eyes as wide as could be, the pupils dilated in astonishment. His mouth remained still for a moment before he reciprocated, moving his lips accordingly to match yours with his eyes fluttering shut. By the time you pulled away, feeling all giddy at the reaction you earned out of Edward, you noticed him staring back at you.

“That wasn’t an answer. But I understand the urge. Who wouldn’t want to show their unwavering appreciation for a man such as myself?”

You gently pushed his shoulder, playfully feigning a groan of annoyance at his egotism though he sees right through it. He briefly shoots you a gentle smile before quickly hardening his features, attempting to appear as if he’s upset and about to scold you once more though you can tell he isn’t as upset he’d like to be. 

Kink: Cockwarming, slight orgasm denial 

A/N: I’m going another shout out to one of my friends: megatronsmetalmeat. I put up a poll for what kink to do on my server and brogasm came through with another peak idea. If you like Eddie Gluskin x Reader or Joan (OC) x Dr. Easterman, Mega Meat is your man. 

“Hold still damnit,” he growled in frustration, expelling a tense breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

Your legs were weakly wrapped around his torso, squeezing him every so often as he absentmindedly stared down at the scattered robot parts strewn about the wooden table. The question mark belt sat unbuckled with his cargo pants slightly pulled down just enough for him to be able to free himself. His cock was nestled deep inside you, causing you to occasionally let out a soft moan or attempt to shift only to be met with the firm grasp of his slender hands, keeping you in place.

“I wouldn’t have had to do this if you could behave yourself. If you hadn’t been wasting my far too precious time with your… your distractions!”

All you had done was come down dressed in a thin little slip nightgown to check in on Edward, but he took that as a sign that you came down with an ulterior motive. Frustrated from the struggles at work, he opted to keep you seated on his lap, his dick nestled deep inside you where he could keep you under firm radar from causing anymore trouble or distractions for him as he put it. 

However, that created an entirely separate issue as he had grown stiff, feeling overwhelmed with the feeling of your tight channel gripping his cock so firmly as if you were trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of him. He had been fighting the urge to begin thrusting up inside you, pushing himself in and out at that harsh pace he had gotten used to. With your fingernails digging lightly into his arm right where his question mark button up ended, he let out another soft hiss. 

“You’re practically asking for more trouble, aren’t you? Ever since you got here you have been nothing but a thorn in my side, finding new ways to get under my skin and further keep me from my important work. I have to beat that bat, prove myself as the true intellectual genius of this city, yet you have been constantly keeping me from doing so.”

He had been rambling every so often as he jotted equations on the table, correcting the multiple malfunctions with his robot. Huffing dramatically, he surged his hips forward slightly more in order to kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick some more, earning another shaky exhale from you. 

“I deserve a reward. For being so generous towards a worthless nobody like you who brings me nothing other than more problems.”

With that, you could feel him attempting to retract his hips, attempting to begin pumping back and forth though this time you were the one to stop him.

“You said you wouldn’t cum until you finished your work… as a motivator,” politely, you corrected him.

“I know what I said!” he snapped slightly defensively, clearly wanting to retract his statement as he had been growing rather urgent. 

You gently, reassure him with a soft kiss on his temple and a faint whisper of ‘you can do it’ against his flesh. His eyes narrowed once more, locking in on the messy blur of numbers he had been hurriedly scribbling down in green marker. He set the marker down, returning to adjusting the parts of the robot in a desperate attempt to see the faint glow of artificial life. His dick twitched impatiently inside you, clearly getting antsy as he murmured a soft string of aggregated insults for once not directed towards you. 

“Stop moving around so much!” he groaned again, clearly trying to snap himself back some despite you steadying him, keeping him in place even as your body tense on edge as well. 

The more you tightened your grip to keep him in place the more he’d murmured words under his breath and soft whimpers. His free hand that wasn’t screwing in nails in place flew to his mouth attempting to muffle any pathetic noises he made at the fact that he was being denied. He had set the screw driver down having reattached another part of the robot as he flicked the switch once more to be met with nothing.  

“Work, you mindless droid!” He spat at the robot as if it would magically awaken at his aggressive tone.

His legs had begun to faintly tremble beneath you, one leg tapping angrily against the ground as he clearly was growing more restless at the lack of simulation. His hand dropped from his lips to grip tightly onto the chair and scratch at the material in clear sexual frustration. You had moved slightly forward, constraining your legs around his waist just a little more though even a microscopic movement like that was enough to cause Edward to throw his head back in a moan. 

“It’s like you’re trying to kill me with every incompetent move you make!”

He winced slightly back though his movements were constrained by the way you were keeping him relatively rooted in place. A bead of sweat trickled down from his brow as he continued his ministrations on the stubborn machine. Pulling at the wires, he nearly ripped one right clean out with how desperate and on edge he was. By now he had been messing with the wires as well as disassembling and reassembling pieces for an hour. The flesh on his bottom lip was chewed from his clear frustration as his breathing had become shallow and rapid.

“Please, mercy, I can’t take any more of this mind numbing torture!” he whined pathetically as he once more flipped the switch running the test. 

The lights of the eyes flickered on finally as the machine weakly surged to its feet to replicate the specific fighting code for Catwoman Edward had written into it. Edward’s eyes rolled back finally, taking a small breather of clear thankfulness before he instantly switched to prying your hands off his waist and moving to pound you to a pulp. You let out a soft yelp, surprised at the intensity of his movements though it was clear he had been on edge for some time, willing to do practically anything to be allowed to cum. Your hips attempted to move to join his pace though he was moving far too quickly for you to come even close to matching him. With every pull and push he made, he buried himself so deep that you practically could feel him in your stomach. 

Kink:  Role Reversal, Pet Play

 A/N: Sorry for the very late upload. I’m a bit more busy these days and I’ve had the worst case of writer’s block :(. This fic is dedicated out to freak.stew since Pet Play isn’t really my thing, but they r they deserve this. The fic turned out way shorter than I was hoping but ahh it’s progress to get me out of the writer’s block.

“It’ll only be a …. minor, temporary adjustment, my dear. Just until you have learned your lesson,” he coyly teased, body leaned down to study your curled form in the human sized cage he had gotten for you. 

A pastel olive collar dangled around your neck the words ‘Riddler’s Pet’ engraved in rose gold writing into the pendant. The last major event he had brought you along for, your carelessness had gotten the attention of the Bat, nearly leading to Edward losing his precious control over the city. If it wasn’t for his quick time improvising and last minute decision, you’d both be seated in the damp, dingy environment of Arkham. Rather than scold and belittle you for your incompetence like he normally would’ve done, he had taken creative liberties to teach you a proper lesson in obedience. Donned with a collar and sat in a cage, you peered at him as he reached in to gently stroke your hair. 

“Such a good girl,” he purred, tugging lightly at the collar to bring you closer to the bars, “I can’t stay mad at you for long. You really have a way to make a man crumble, don’t you?”

It had been a few long hours of him working patiently at his desk right nearby where he was storing you. Every so often, he’d glance over to you with that infuriating smirk of his and clear raging lust within his emerald eyes. Gingerly, you listened to the wheels of his chair slide back against the ground as he got up once more. After a few moments of sifting around his pockets, he found the keys, gently shoving them in the lock and turning it. 

“You’ve been so quiet and well behaved, perhaps the good doggy deserves a slight.. treat, if you will.”

However, the minute you were freed from your restraints, you wasted no time in pouncing atop him, tackling him straight to the ground with a light thud as he made a small yelp. 

“What are you-“

Before he had time to finish his statement, you were all over him like a wild beast, ripping at the pristine lime suit and rubbing your hips forward in a shaky, uncoordinated way. Riddler had begun to panic lightly as he realized the repercussions of releasing you too early. It seems the entire act of treating you like a poorly mannered dog had taken its toll, and you were out for revenge. 

“Now, now, no need to get all handsy,” he bargained with a weakened chuckle as he held up his hands in defense.

“You’ve got me, my dear, well played. I admit your attempts at besting me are rather amusing and cute to witness.” 

“I’m nowhere near done.”

He let out a soft gasp as he felt those razor sharp teeth of yours biting the soft silk of his shirt, tearing it with one smooth rip while your pointed nails had gotten to shredding the remainder of his pants in an antsy fashion, attempting to bare the sight of your boss’s pasty flesh. By now, Edward had realized that attempting to talk you down was a lost cause, you were going to dominant him one way or another, having clearly grown tired of being the submissive one in this relationship of yours. 

His lanky, slender fingers, combed through your soft locks, slightly digging in to it and pulling it every time you bit down too hard on him. 

“Ah, so needy,” he whined as your movements sped up, lips trailing down from his neck towards his chest where he had the electrode implanted as his failsafe grand gesture of control. 

Despite your overly aggressive demeanor, you carefully moved your lips around it in order to avoid damaging it. Grazing and nipping lightly at his abdomen, you left a few blue and purple marks in your feverish wake before reaching the black boxer briefs with green faded question marks printed all over them. Edward had reached to gently lower them but you were faster, splitting the threads of fabric with your mouth, uncovering the throbbing head of his cock, already leaking with pre-cum. His eyebrows lightly raised in amusement rather than embarrassment, that goofy crooked grin still plaster across his face.

“How about a ride, hm?” He hummed, easing your hips towards his in a more gentle manner. 

However, you batted his hands away and took matters into your own hands as you settled both legs on either side of him. It didn’t take long for your own pants zipper to come undone as well as your panties as you lowered yourself atop him with an untamed groan of thirst. Attempting to assert some control, he tried to move his hips to which you merely pressed them down, taking over the situation and setting the rather rough pace of gyrating your hips back and forward, sliding his hot thick length inside you before slipping it right back out. With your spare hand, you reached down to roll the overstimulated nub of your clit, hissing in pleasure as you felt your appetite being sated. 

“Oh, my dear! You’re so, so good, so, ah, such a good dog, pleasing your owner like this, oh!”

Day Three: Hate Sex

“I’m sending you the coordinates to his last known location right now,” Oracle’s voice beamed through the intercom system you had attached to your suit. 

The Riddler had been at large for weeks now ever since his grand escape from Arkham a few months prior and worst of all, there were no leads as to just what he was planning this time other than the usual trail of glowing green question mark trophies.

“Just… be careful out there. Something isn’t quite adding up,” you could hear the concern in Barb’s voice as she softly spoke, her brow likely furrowed in thought. 

You reassured her that you’d be fine, that you knew exactly what you were getting into as you’d dealt with the Riddler before on many occasions. When Bruce had been too busy fighting off other villains, he began sending you as his sort of “cleanup crew” dealing with Edward, something Edward wasn’t too thoroughly pleased about for a while. Though with time, he had become accepting you as the one he’d be seeing more often than not. Though lately, your attention has begun to waver. You’d begun facing the wrath of Penguin and Two Face leaving Edward to feel slightly neglected. 

Up ahead you could see the eerie, winding road wrapping around Pinckney Orphanage, the dilapidated structure poking out into the grayish night skies of Gotham. You approached silently and steadily, ready for whatever lie ahead (probably more hostages and riddles as you silently cursed yourself for not freshening up on your puzzle knowledge). Upon entering through the orphanage, the room fills with a silence, only the creaking of the front door being yanked open being heard. No desperate screams, no taunts, just silence. 

A few steps further in and you felt as if you had the wrong location, as if whatever was here had long vacated the premises. Shakily, your hand drifted over the intercom button to press to call Oracle and alert her when an all too familiar, sickeningly annoying voice broke the silence. 

“I wouldn’t recommend that if I were you, my dear.”

Before you could gather your surroundings, a giant army of robots burst through the ground resulting you to leap into action, fists pounding through the metal. Fueled by an urge to triumph, to prove yourself as more than Batman’s protégé, you tore through metal, gears flying across the ground as you disposed of the small army riddler had unleashed.

“You’re fortunate those were only the prototypes. If it had been the real thing, I would’ve watched you pitifully struggle from over here.”

“What do you want, Edward?” You kept looking around attempting to find the source of his voice only to glare up at that infuriating projection of his staring down at your measly form.

“What’s the plan here… what have you been doing in this orphanage?”

“Plan? Tsk, even if I had one you should know by now I wouldn’t just tell you that simply. Though then again, I’m always overestimating the intellectual capabilities of a mind as measly as your own.”

You had to stop yourself from gritting your teeth and lashing out pathetically at the flimsy projection screen in an outrage.

“You broke out of Arkham.”

“I wanted to have dinner at that little Italian place… the food there is almost as plain and unassuming as the inside of your mind.” 

“I don’t buy that you haven’t been up to trouble, Nigma. I was there in Arkham City, I saw what you did to those poor people.”

“Perhaps if they actually had their wits they could’ve avoided the situation entirely,” he scoffed, brushing it off as callously as expected. 

Suddenly, your eyes flickered to an odd looking bookshelf, seemingly placed haphazardly out of shape. Your eyes perked up, noting the possibility of what lies behind as you yanked out one particular old Greek Mythological book you’d heard Riddler referencing during one of his previous taunts. 

“Hey, what are you-“

The entire pendulum swung open, showcasing the man of the hour, clearly having come unprepared. He hasn’t finished designing the intricate puzzle room he’d be broadcasting from in the future so he had opted for this little secret room as a placeholder. Instantly, you reached out to grab him though he held his ground, squirming and thrashing around like an untamed animal. Your fist collided with his face a few times as you both rolled around on the ground, desperately fighting. Your heel had dug into his groin lightly earning a light hiss from him as you hurled him back to the concrete, dusty ground. You’d gotten on top of him, breath panting lightly from the scuffle though it wasn’t anything peculiar when you noticed an odd light flickering between his eyes.

“Back to Arkham Asylum with you…”

“I doubt you’ll actually take me there,” he suddenly challenged, stilling his movements beneath you as he stared up at your face.

“Excuse me?”

“With the way you’ve been bucking your hips and grinding against me in desperation, I think you have an entirely different… motive in your mind, my dear.”

You opened your mouth to fight the ridiculous notion he was spewing out, hands prepared to hit him more out of sheer fury rather than necessity at this point though a tiny voice in the back of your mind knew you were right. This tension between you two had been building for some time.  

“You say you’re going to beat me to a pulp all the time, yet you never do. It’s obvious that what you really want is to debase yourself on my cock until you somehow become even dumber.”

“Shut up.”

“You know I’ve got a photographic memory. I can remember every minute you’ve landed yourself in this precarious position with me along with the way you’d practically dry hump me as if you’re an animal. Nothing goes unnoticed in my eyes, no matter how much that inferior mind of yours tries to convince you otherwise, my dear.”

You’d been remaining still on top of him by now, your knees against the ground while your core was positioned directly above his cock. The glossy feel between your thighs had begun to pool against the satin fabric of your panties. His teasing had gotten you riled up after all.

“I fucking hate you,” you growl as your hands move to begin tugging at the belt out of its loops, “you’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side since I started dealing with you. With your ego-“

“I don’t have an ego!” Now was his turn to snap as he stopped your movements on his belt and savagely perched himself atop you, switching your positions at a lighting speed. 

“If anyone has the ego here, it’s you with that pointy little noise and attitude that you come even close to solving my riddles. I had to begin dumbing things down since the Dork Knight started switching things over to you.”

“Why you little-“

Both of you paused as you heard his belt hit clink against the concrete with a light patter. Instantly, he flew into action, brutishly devouring your mouth as you frantically moved to match his moves. His lips were feverish, tasting lightly of caffeine as he thrusted his tongue inside your lips, attempting to conquer, to subdue you. However, you weren’t done putting up a fight of being in control as you bit his lower lip harshly, causing a soft groan to spill out from him. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, you gingerly reached down and yanked his boxers and pants down enough to free his erection. 

Harshly, your fingers wrapped around his cock, pumping and gripping the length tightly causing his focus to finally shift back to your actions.

“Fuck! So painful, you’re such a moron that you can’t even figure out how to be a good slut!”

“Have you considered I’m doing this on purpose?”

To that he simply lulled his head back letting out another shaky fuck of ecstasy. Suddenly, his gaze locked in on you as he promptly tore your hand from his cock.

“Enough teasing.”

Before you knew it, he had swiftly unzipped the jumpsuit you wore, sliding it down enough to expose the pink heart panties you wore beneath. His fingers dipped down, sliding the fabric down with a brutal sharp movement before he notched himself right between your folds. He reaches down, rubbing at the wetness that had pooled there as he chuckled darkly.

“So wet already from all this fighting. Perhaps you get off to hearing about your own stupidity.”

Before you knew it, he pumped his hips forward, pushing himself in deep causing both of you to let out moans. He didn’t even have to prepare you with how aroused you’d gotten just from all this back and forth tension you had going with him. He gyrated at a steady rhythm, pushing forward and back as if on instinct though you questioned that he had any prior experience. 

“So tight, you haven’t even been fucked properly, my my,” he paused to let out another mewl as he managed to push himself against your clit, “Not only… fuck… are you a novice to hero work but it seems every aspect of your life carries over that disappointment.”

“You know nothing about me!”

“I know what your insides feel like- oh fuck!”

He exclaimed, giving his hips a few more desperate, aching pushes before releasing another groan suggesting how close he is. Not wanting to cum before you, his free hand reached down to start rubbing tight circles on your clit as you hissed and sucked in a breath. Your hair splayed around your head like a halo while your head tilted back in clear approval of the action.

“Oh shit, I’m going to-“

You didn’t even get to finish before feeling a ground shattering release slip from your body right as he buried himself in deep and empty out his own fluids to mesh with yours. Shakily, he yanked out his spent cock with a wet, succulent pop as his head fell back against your chest only briefly. 

“…. I still despise you,” he murmured despite burying himself against your chest to listening to the faint beating of your heart.

Day Two: Exhibitionism, Lingerie

“Greetings Gothamites! Another sunset in Gotham and yet I have yet to get an actual challenge. These past few days have been,” he paused to let out a fake yawn and lounge back in his seat like a cat, “…uneventful to say the most. I’ve decided to provide you with some invigorating incentive from the help of my lovely assistant here.” 

One languid hand stretched out towards your cowering form as he beckoned you to come join him in his seat, patting his stretched legs for you to sit on. His eyes flashed fiercely like those of a hungry wolf as he offered that vicious snarling grin of his he often wore. You couldn’t deny that you’d been interested what it would be like to allow Gotham’s tyrannical ruler, the Riddler to take you right on camera for all of the starved, miserable faces of Gothamites to cuck in horror.

“Come now, my dear, I won’t repeat myself.”

He teased, settling back with a comfortable sigh as you finally settled down into the tender, warm embrace of his body. The fabric of the lime suit roughly softly as you got comfortable with your chest to his, legs draped on either side of his. One of his hand reached out to soothingly run through your luscious locks as a light chuckle erupted from the back of his throats.

“An eager little thing, isn’t she? With quite an appetite too I might add…”

He purred softly, eyes practically undressing you as he spoke. The flashing red glow of the camera made it obvious you were on live air, broadcasting the footage at the center square, surrounding by vines and never ending expanses of greenery wrapping around the entirety of the city. A thin, mesh lingerie top in a deep shade of sage with two black question marks positioned right over your breasts tightly stretched over your rather voluptuous figure. The matching cotton panties peaked out slightly the bold text ‘Property of the Riddler’ sewn in cursive right over the crotch. 

You felt Edward slightly begin to rock his hips a little, clearly already begging to feel the stirrings of arousal just from seeing you like this, and from feeling your mound pressed against his dick. You couldn’t help but wish to tease, hands moving on their own accord as you brushing down Edward’s chest and gently moved towards the front of his pants, giving him a few teasing strokes and palming him through his pants. His breathing hitched as he quickly realized exactly what you were trying to do.  

“Saucy little minx,”he cooed with a tight smirk spreading across his lips, “Already trying to tease when you acted all shy and hesitant seconds before…. I underestimated just how much of a tempting morsel you’d be, my dear.”

With that, his lips settled against the nape of your neck, eyes fluttering shut as he took a long whiff of that sultry perfume you adorned every day. He placed a flurry of soft kisses against your skin while allowing his hands to travel down to cups of your lingerie dress, groping the weight of your breast into his hands. You let out a small whine of eager appreciation and begin to allow your hips to grind more energetically against his, clearly already growing agitated. 

“Ah, ah… looks who’s already desperate, I’ve barely touched you and you’re rubbing against my cock,” he mockingly scolded.

With that, he reached down, pulling the top of your lingerie dress down to expose your breasts to the fresh air, earning himself a small gasp from you. His agile fingers, poked and teased your sensitive nipples causing you to squirm even more against him. He used his free hand to rotate your body slightly, showing off your breasts to the camera before roughly squeezing one with his hand and tilting your head back to begin pecking at your neck once more.

By now, he had grown significantly harder, his breathing coming in harsher pants as you heard the subtle clicking of his belt coming undone. Instantly, you flickered down to watch the head of his dick poke gently be eased out for you. You reached down to help slip your panties down to which he grabbed your hands, pausing you in place.

“Keep them on, that’s for my eyes only, my dear,” he rasped out, simply opting to slide the fabric slightly down in order to be able to push his cock against your slick folds.

“So wet… I don’t even have to bother preparing you with how much of an utter fiend you are.”

He couldn’t help taunting you once more at your eagerness, before finally giving a sharp, quick thrust, settling himself inside you. He threw his head back against the cushion of his seat as he felt a wail of yearning slip past your lips.

“Oh, so good, every time,” he exclaims settling into a steady rythm of thrusting his hips upwards, burying himself deep inside before pulling out.

Quickly, you adjust to the length, moving your hips to meet his and throwing out a few thirsty cries for more as he hits the right spot inside you to cause your vision to blur. His hands grip tightly onto your waist moving you even more to meet his vicious snaps and pumps inside you.

“Fuck I’m close, Eddie,” Aching, your mewl out, nails digging into his back as you hear his shallow grunts and soft groans.

“Language, my dear. Such vulgarity, oh, shows a true gap in knowledge,” even in the heat of the moment, Eddie couldn’t resist a chance to berate you in the true narcissistic fashion as always. 

With a loud sob of adoration, you felt your walls clench tightly around his intruding length, gripping him like a vice as you unleash ropes of thick, hot cum all over his cock. At the same time, he eases himself into an orgasm, letting out a mewl of appreciation as he paints your insides entirely white. 

Day one: Bitting

A/N: I’m thinking of participating in Kinktober this year with just the Riddler and uploading fics every other day even though I have no prior smut writing experience (yes I’m getting a lot of firsts out of the way haha). I can’t guarantee I’ll upload per every deadline but I’ll try my best. Please bear with me if it isn’t the best quality. I’m open to nice advice for how to write smut better as I’d like to be regularly participating in this. Most of the kinks will probably be mundane since I’m not very knowledgeable on certain subjects and have to go based off what I think it’s like.

“You just couldn’t keep that nonsensical mouth of yours shut, hm?”

He rasped out, blue eyes narrowing with rage as he lunged atop you. Quick to jump to the defense as any person would, you quickly spoke, your tongue feeling drier than usually.

“I was simply doing the polite thing, Eddie! He recognized me and I had no choice to-“

“A simple greeting would’ve been enough but that pea sized brain of yours decided that you’d rather find ways to irritate me instead. Perhaps that was your intention all along? If so, you’ve succeeded, my dear. Not because that simple mind of yours found a weakness within me, but rather because you’ve got a certain talent for grating one’s nerves.” 

You couldn’t deny that you had been feeling rather neglected lately with how Edward has been hunched over his work bench in concentration, working tirelessly away on the riddler bots until his fingers bled and his face was dripping of soot, grease, and sweat. Restless and agitated, he rarely had time to spare you more than a simple glance or some mild acknowledgment whenever you brought him food (the closest to a ‘thanks’ you’d get from the Riddler). It was shocking how he managed to survive with how little he didn’t in terms of taking care of himself preferring to slave away day and night on whatever genius idea he had at conquering the bat this time. 

That evening while returning back to your car from grocery shopping, someone who had attended your glass called out to you catching your attention. A freckled, charming man who sat beside you in English and even worked on a few projects called out to get your attention. Finding it hard to believe that you’d run into someone you’d know from your previous life still alive and living in Gotham, you couldn’t help but offer some light small talk. Part of you felt flattered at the attention even though you’d never act on anything further with anyone; it just felt reassuring to feel so… seen, appreciated after the nights spent in solitude. 

Unbeknownst to you, Edward mentally calculated how long it took from the orphanage to the closest store you frequented. When a quarter past seven and he still hadn’t heard the heavy, creaking doors of the entrance to the desolate, drearier orphanage, His frantic mind had already thought up over a thousand plausible explanations with detailed reasoning that wouldn’t silence themselves unless he found concrete proof. Hacking in the city surveillance cameras was a task even the mind of a far more menial criminal could accomplish. When he had watched you conversing with the handsome stranger, Edward’s jaw clenched tightly, brows furrowed as an ugly, gnawing sensation settled in his stomach that he dared not to acknowledge. 

“Originally, I was going to reward you tonight for keeping your needy self out of my office and avoiding wasting my far too valuable time for these past few weeks. Though it seems your dimwitted mind can’t even remember who owns every inch of this body. Perhaps I’ve overestimated your intellect, my dear.”

Like a ravenous beast, hot on a trail of fresh blood, he pounced baring his teeth to you. A shrill ripping sensation filled the cluttered bedroom as your shirt gave way with his sharp fangs digging into the cotton plush fabric. A small gasp of surprise (an in part desperation) escaped your lips as you reminisced when was the last time you two had gone at it. 

“Edward-“

“Mr. Nigma, sir.”

He momentarily paused his feral ministrations to correct you to which your face felt like the surface of the sun. His eyebrows raised as if expecting your complete and utter agreement.

“Mr. Nigma, sir…”

Your voice came out a hushed whispered with a tinge of embarrassment, encouraging his rough and eager attitude towards freeing you of your clothing. With each tear and rip of clothing, it looked like a wild animal had gotten ahold of you and crawled it’s way throw your body. His teeth and hands had begun to work in tandem in a desperate need to quench the aching hunger of assuring himself you were loyally under his control, to assert himself of his superiority over any man that would attempt to approach you.

As the last of your clothes gave way leaving your bare, unmarked flesh for his eyes to feast upon, he wasted no time in getting to work at reminding you and anyone that approached who was in charge. Your body was like a blank canvas, awaiting for him the painter to create a portrait. Like a lion piercing a gazelle in the wild, you felt the piercing press of his teeth into the unmarred skin just beside your jugular. The faint sound of a whine echoed from your mouth as your back arched at just the right angle to provide him with even more skin for him to mark up and tarnish.

“Teaching exactly what your purpose here is, who you belong to.”

He murmured against your succulent flesh, continuing on a downwards journey across your body sparing no inch of flesh any mercy from the nipping and biting of his jagged pearly whites. Small purple and blue blemishes littered your skin soon enough. His fangs left nothing spared as he moved down to your sensitive breast. His tongue moved in tandem as he latched onto the soft rose bud of your nipple, swirling his tongue around it and earning himself another breathy noise from your lips. After some gentle motions, he unleashed his teeth once more, digging in the pointed ends into your hard peak resulting in your left hand gripping onto the virescent, silk bedsheets tight enough to rip them off. Upon reaching your lower abdomen, he paused, his gaze focusing on the glistening, slick folds staring back at him. With a soft tsk and shaking of his head, he chided.

“Are you that incompetent that you need me to walk you through every step? Put your legs over my shoulders, my dear.”

Lacking hesitation, you moved automatically placing each leg on his shoulders, parting your thighs and allowing him fully unobstructed view on the prize he had been awaiting. Rather than diving in the thirsty beast he had been acing like, he started by stroking the sensitive, tender skin of your thighs. His mouth moving energetically upwards until he paused right  before reaching the center. You let out a powerful gasp as you felt him sink his teeth once more, this time holding on longer. The skin was pierced as the faint trickling of crimson dribbled down your legs though he didn’t seem to mind, instead opting to enthusiastically suckle each droplet of blood. On instinct, your hand was digging into his hair, a tirade of moans and whines erupting from your mouth as he greedily sucked up all the liquid. 

After a few moments, he gently eased himself back, admiring his handiwork of the deep mark right beside your pussy, a clear claim of ownership. Your hips had begun shifting on their own accord in futile desperation to which he produced a sinister smirk at seeing your heightened state of arousal.

“Now now, dear, patience is a virtue.”

That authoritative voice of his teasingly scolded you for your desperation before he finally dove down, head nestled between your thighs.

“Fuck!”

You hissed, fingers digging tighter into his hair, yanking it gently as his tongue lavished and explored between your folds. Despite his lack of experience, he easily found your throbbing clit, flicking the sensitive bud a few times with your tongue until you mewled loudly. As a certified genius, Edward was quick learner, knowing exactly what spots to stroke to get the loudest responses out of you. Tightly, your legs pressed against the sides of his face as he continued his work bringing you closer to the edge of seeing stars.

“I’m gonna, oh shit, I’m gonna. Fuck!”

To say Edward Nashton was antisocial would be an understatement. Seeing him at social events like the GCPD annual ball or fundraisers was a laughable notion as he sat back, did his work, and kept his head down. It wasn’t like he was bothered often by the other officers as most had learned to steer clear of his path after seeing just how egotistical the little shit could be given the chance. Commissioner Loeb had occasionally strolled down to the cybersecurity unit to drop off Eddie’s tasks for the day (though Edward almost always finished them within a few hours) and a few far too cheerful to be at the GCPD interns would stop by when their computers had given them trouble. 

Edward had at first wanted to play a game, refusing to offer their simple minded selves assistance unless they’d successfully answer one of his riddles (a task he doubted they’d accomplish yet it brought him endless amusement to watch their stuttering selves furrow their brows in confusion). His rather pretentious behavior had earned a few warnings from the commissioner though as those degenerate fools had complained to gone to the higher ups about Edward’s mind games and shenanigans, so with much annoyance, Edward complied (not because he’d accept defeat but rather because he needed to remain on the pay role and had no doubt the GCPD wouldn’t hesitate to find some sloppy imbecile to replace him). With that though, Edward rarely got much attention other than some scorned glances or hushed whispers about his eccentric and off putting demeanor.

That was until you had arrived at the GCPD, right as the new head of homicide. Another bright eyed individual hoping to bring justice to the wronged souls of this damned city. Edward had begrudgingly agreed to attend the welcoming party in the break room, mostly to satisfy that itching curiosity in the back of his mind. He had of course anticipated that you’d approach him and want to strike up a conversation with him, not that he could blame you (who wouldn’t want to speak to a genius?). However, the regular impenetrable wall he held up to everyone that decided to waste his time with mindless pleasantries had seemed to be… ineffective for possible the first time in his life.

“You want to talk about coding algorithms with me? I hardly doubt a mind as … simplistic and empty in nature as yours could possibly grasp it,” he’d sneer in that far too confident tone of his, preparing for the onslaught of defensive retorts.

“Doesn’t matter if I understand it or not. Listening to you speak is enough to keep me entertained.”

That had been the first warning in Edward’s head. Your lax, entirely nonchalant response towards his cutting assumption regarding your intelligence. Edward had found himself perplexed by such a unbothered individual. He figured there had to be something wrong with your mind and your peculiar behavior. If only he could crack that thick skull of yours open and watch all the secrets and mysteries pour out, analyzing the millions of strings of code in your DNA to determine just what critical error made you so immune towards his bashful remarks. 

Edward eventually came to the conclusion that you reminded him a crow. A quick glance at that disorganized, disaster workspace of yours — though who was he to talk considering he rarely had time for such mundane tasks like cleaning — made Edward instantly steer clear of your office space. All those trinkets and collectibles, as if you never threw away a single object in your life. From the collection of retro video game discs scattered about the ground of your office space to the marble miniature geek statues lining the mahogany desk, he knew peculiar wasn’t nearly enough to describe you. 

Unfortunately for Edward, his egotistical rambling and snarky comments weren’t enough to deter you from pushing your luck. He was cursed with your presence during every break period no matter how standoffish he acted it was as if you couldn’t take the hint. With his fingers typing away lines of perfect code, he rarely expected interruption; however, you with your far too bright smile and your far too eager laugh you crept into the room once more.

“You free Friday after work?” 

“If you’re considering inviting me to the GCPD ball-“

“Not about the ball. I figured you dislike crowds since you’re always hunched over that screen of yours like a lone sewer rat.”

Your playful remark paired with that teasing smile grated on Edward’s nerves especially as he considered opening his mouth to unleash a tirade of insults at your lackluster intelligence only for you to once more continue.

“I’ve got a surprised for you I’m cooking up. Leave your office right work ends and wait for me in the break room if you’re interested.”

You’d vanished right down the corridor before Edward had a chance to response. He hadn’t even been left with a chance to laugh at your assumption that he’d roll off like a dog at your invite. But perhaps he wasn’t looking at this right? Perhaps he wasn’t considering how this was the perfect opportunity to pick at that odd mind of yours, solve your mind like the riddle it was presenting itself to be. A groan left Edward’s lips as he buried his face in his hands, realizing he was seriously considering this invitation of yours.

Thick droplets of rain pattered gently on the window sill. The normally gloomy sky of Gotham dimmed to a dark grey with the oncoming storm howling in the distance. Absentmindedly, Edward’s blue eyes gazed off at the skyscrapers and buildings painting the horizon outside the break room. A week and a half to Christmas yet the wasn’t a speck of white present outside the window yet. By now the chatter in the halls had died down with the voices disappearing off towards the GCPD gala (an event Edward couldn’t possibly care less about). Squinting, he observed the barren halls plastered from head to toe in that tacky, garish green red and white decorate. From pesky garlands to those eyesores of lights, the walls were barely recognizable.

“Admiring the decor job? Or are you too busy thinking of new ways to gloat?”

Edward immediately recognized your teasing tone as his head whipped quickly in the direction of it. His eyebrows furrowed as they typically did when he was annoyed or rather on edge though you seemed to pay no mind as your arm linked around his with ease, yanking him forward towards your side.

“C’mon. Surprise is ready for you.”

“I should warn you in advance: the odds of you impressing me are exceedingly low.”

“Worth a shot regardless.”

There was that unserious, undeterred attitude of yours causing Edward’s jaw to clench tightly as he hesitantly followed after you down the tawdry tastelessness of the decor job. Edward was surprised to find himself retracing the steps back towards his office, assuredly working his mind to conjure up just what nightmare awaited him wherever you were mercilessly dragging him off to.

“Ta-da.”

To his utter horror, the doors of Edward’s office snapped open revealing a scene that vividly assaulted his senses. There in the corner was one of those miniature virescent Christmas trees covered in glittery ornaments with fairy lights. 

“What’s the meaning of all this!?! This is a den of intellectual prowess not mindless holiday jubilation!”

As expected, Edward’s words were sharp and dismissive of the sudden festive makeover to his office. However, you seemed to be as calm as ever, almost as if you expected the retaliation from your sentiment. Your hands gently press against his chest, pulling lightly at his tie in a teasing manner to bring him ever so slightly closer to you.

“Lighten up… I promise I’ll return everything back to its place after the holidays….”

“It’s highly improbable that pea sized brain of yours is incapable of recalling the original intricate layout of my office.” 

“Just… lose the insults this once and focus on the moment.”

“Focus on the moment? What kind of an idiotic-“

His words were roughly cut off by the sudden press of lips against his own. As if this entire night was filled with events that shocked him to his core, he now felt your soft, gentle mouth on his. His eyes remained momentarily open in utter disbelief mixed in with the slightest twinge of rage. Just who did you think you were to be pressing up against him like this and kissing him. Despite his inner turmoil, Edward didn’t find himself pulling away; he found his body settling, arms moving from a position of protest to ones of begrudging acceptance as your tongue gently moved to explore the caverns of his mouth, tasting the hint of leftover coffee on his tongue. It had to have been a full minute or so by the time you pulled away yet time felt as if it had stopped all together.

“Couldn’t help but notice you moved under the mistletoe. I’m sure a smart guy like you knows all about the tradition that calls for now.”

He want to scoff hotly at the remark regarding the utterly meaningless, simpleton tradition, but Edward’s mouth had shut for perhaps the first time in his life, his tongue remained still as if attempting to remember the way it engaged in a fiery tango with yours. Suddenly, his ears were assaulted with the gentle vintage tune of Eddie My Love by the Chordettes. Ah such clever world play for a feeble minded individual like yourself; perhaps that brain of yours can partially function when you actually tried (though he had to battle with the urge to bark at how inappropriate and demeaning it was for you to be playing such a song). 

With a hand gently outstretched and that lopsided grin once more painted on your face, Edward knew exactly what horrors you were beckoning him into now: a dance. The utter pointless ritual of flesh to flesh contact paired rocking your body to the rhythm of a song never failed to make Edward sneer at how menial society was. As if you couldn’t take the hint, you simply invited yourself into his bubble and joined your hands in a meaningful embrace that spoke louder than any words could at that moment.