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#edward nashton fic
killerlookz · 2 years
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𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐮𝐩 | Edward Nashton x F! Reader (NSFW)
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gif source description: After a completely unsuccessful date, your roommate, Edward, comes to comfort you.
content: 18+ !!! SMUT, porn with plot, dry humping, hand job, unprotected sex, m!overstim, m!virginity loss, experienced reader, sliiiight size kink, crying during sex/ emotional sex, insecure! eddie :( , kind of angst, fluff... lots of fluff, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, VERY BRIEF mention of past drug use, small mentions of Edward's childhood trauma, pre-riddler Edward.
word count: 9,334 (its a long one hehe)
This fic contains 18+ content, minors, please do not inreact
"Come on Edward, I don't ask for much." You sigh.
"Fine." Edward huffs, "I didn't want to meet the guy anyways." he begins to turn around and leave the room.
"Wait, Edward!" You call, suddenly feeling guilty over making him upset.
"No it's fine, I'll just lock myself in my room for the night." He says and you can't quite tell if he's being hyperbolic on purpose for dramatic effect or if that's genuinely how he took what you had told him.
"Eddie," you start, "I just asked you if you could please stick to being in your room tonight, and if you could please keep your door closed." You tried to explain, but he was already more than halfway across the room by now, and completely ignoring you.
It had been a while since you'd brought a guy home. Actually, now that you try to recall, since you'd been roommates with Edward, you don't think you had brought any guys home. Sure, you'd been on dates, you had been to other guys' houses, but anytime they'd try to go over yours you had a habit of avoiding it.
"I'm in the middle of redecorating, my place would be no good."
"My place is a mess right now, maybe we should just go to yours."
"The air conditioning in my building is broken, its hotter than hell at my place, can we go to your place instead?"
The little white lies would slip through your teeth every time going back to your place for the night would come up in the conversation. You'd never had this problem before- not with any other roommates- but ever since Edward had moved in, you'd found yourself struggling to let other guys over.
You'd thought about the scenario, bringing a guy home one night to hook up after a date, and while you're walking in the door Edward also happens to be walking into the living room at the same time. You think about the hypothetical encounter, of the man you're bringing home to- well, to put it bluntly, to fuck, and your roommate both giving each other awkward tight-lipped smiles. The thought made you cringe, you wanted to disappear into thin air at just the mere idea of Edward interacting with one of your potential romantic or sexual partners.
It wasn't like you and Edward didn't get along or anything. Sure, he was shy and a little bit anti-social, especially when you first met him, but you didn't mind. But the two of you have lived together for over a year now and you could say with confidence that he was really one of your best friends. Despite being complete strangers when you first moved in, within just a few months you had found yourself doing most things with Edward. You genuinely enjoyed his company, regardless of your friend's remarks about him being "weird" or "awkward" to which you'd protest and list off all the things that were great about Edward, and make some statement about how being weird or awkward wasn't even fundamentally a bad thing. Your friends would look at each other and smirk knowingly, almost as if they were hiding some secret language between their curved up lips. You'd ask them a dumbfounded, "what?", and their only replies would be nothing but hushed giggles and reassuring chants of, "Oh, nothing, nothing."
Your closeness to Edward is what made tonight's situation so much worse, as you suddenly realize that it was probably pretty shitty of you to tell your roommate where he can, and cannot be in the apartment when he's also paying for the place. You didn't mean to make him upset or to be demanding, it was just, that you on a whim had invited a guy over for the first time since you'd moved in, and the nerves were getting to you.
You'd been on a few dates with said guy, hooked up at his place once or twice- maybe it was three times. Things were seemingly moving well, he was nice, had a good taste in music and movies, and the two of you got along pretty well. Maybe your heart didn't swell up, and your stomach didn't flutter with butterflies whenever he walked into a room, but you liked him enough to try and see where things may go.
Feeling a little dejected, you decided just to give Edward his space for the night, and talk to him in the morning. It wasn't often that you would go so long without talking to Edward, but, you figured maybe that was what would be best for right now. You still had other things to focus on, like getting ready for tonight and straightening up around the house. You looked over at Edward's closed door and sighed, you repeated to yourself over and over in your head, "It's no big deal, roommates disagree sometimes, friends disagree sometimes... it's no big deal, it's no big deal," Trying to reassure yourself that it really was no big deal. You tried to think away your guilt, after all, you really hadn't done anything that bad, he'd get over it.
You turned back across the living room and looked towards your door, heading towards your room so you could get ready for the night. You stopped in your room for a moment to pick up your phone before moving to the bathroom to take a shower. While on your walk to the bathroom you text the guy set to come over to confirm your plans,
We're still on for tonight?
Yes ;) 7:30, right?
Yup. Perfect.
-
It's just passed 7 o'clock when you're standing bent over near the couch, fluffing up the pillows. You step back for a moment to observe the scene, you look back and forth between the two sides of the couch, noticing that the pillows to the right are slightly puffier than the ones on the left. You turn to the left side of the couch and try to perk up those pillows to complete evenness with those on the right but it doesn't seem to be working, you move back and forth between the pillows on each side but you just cannot seem to get them even. Your frustration begins to grow and you take a deep breath in to remind yourself that it isn't even that serious, he probably won't even notice that the left pillow isn't fluffed to the same degree as the right pillow. You exhale loudly as you sit down on the couch, picking up your phone to check the time, he'll be here soon, you note. There's a feeling brewing inside you, you think that it might be nerves, maybe even excitement, and it's making your stomach do loops. You smiled slightly and hoped that tonight would go well, that you had no reason to be so anxious about letting guys over, maybe tonight would be a big step in your relationship. The possibilities seemed endless.
-
It's nearly a quarter to 8 when you're sitting on the couch and wondering where he is, each minute passed your scheduled meeting time making your nerves grow stronger. You went to check your phone again, he wasn't concerningly late, but you were still a little curious as to where he was, you opened your messages to send him a quick text,
Running late?
-
Your concern begins to grow when it hits nearly 8:30 and he still isn't here, not even a text, you can't tell if you're more concerned over there perhaps being something wrong, or him possibly standing you up. No, he can't be standing me up, you thought, he told you, just a few hours ago he was coming tonight, maybe an emergency came up, you tried to convince yourself that he'd hadn't purposefully not come.
Despite your incessant words of reassurance to yourself, you still feel pretty god awful, maybe not entirely miserable, but upset for sure. You'd been sitting on this couch alone, in complete silence for the last hour. You told yourself you wouldn't cry, but, you seemed to be cutting it close. You were consumed with just this, overwhelming feeling of dreadfulness that you worried would follow you throughout the night.
All of a sudden, your phone chimes, and you jump in both surprise and excitement. In anticipation, you flip the phone over to see who has texted, but your heart sinks when you notice the notification is just from a friend. Still, bored and lonely you open the message.
Attachment 1 Image:
Hey, I'm out for drinks and this guy at the bar... isn't that the guy you've been seeing? Please tell me you stopped seeing him so I don't have to kick him in the teeth for being so...friendly with the girl next to him.
You glance only momentarily at the photo and immediately recognize it's him. The blurry shot encompasses too many details that you don't care to deeply analyze: the setting, the time, the girl whose hand is lazily thrown against his chest as her head's tipped back in a hearty laugh. You don't know whether to laugh or to cry or to scream- maybe all three at once
Your face grew red and warm as tears began to form in your eyes. You couldn't name the emotion you were feeling right now... you didn't know if it was sadness, anger, or relief, and you couldn't quite understand the deep feeling of embarrassment that invaded every crevice of your being. You couldn't even bear to respond to your friend's text, maybe you'd lie and say that you'd stop seeing him in order to save yourself the trouble and the humiliation of having to explain that you'd been stood up.
You tried to recount each encounter you'd had with him since you met, replaying the moments over again in your head, trying to think of where you could have gone awry. What did I do wrong? you asked yourself again and again. Was I too loud? Was I not funny? Not pretty enough? Did he find me boring? Was I too slutty? Too much of a prude? The questions seemed infinite, still, you couldn't pinpoint a moment that made it obvious that you had deserved not even as much as an insincere "I don't think things are working out" text.
You looked at your legs, at the skirt that was bunched up around your thighs, suddenly, feeling very insecure about being so dressed up with absolutely nowhere to go, and no one to see it. The tears finally began to fall from your eyes, one by one they poured down your cheeks. Your obviously emotional reaction over a man you'd only met a few times in your life only added to the embarrassment and shame you felt. You inhaled sharply, audibly, as you continued to cry.
Suddenly, a door creaked open across the living room, slowly, Edward timidly peaked out from around it. He looked over at you, his face suddenly dropping to a look of concern as he pushed up his glasses on his face.
"Oh god," you thought to yourself as you became aware that someone was actually seeing you in this state. You stared at him, wide-eyed and mortified at what could possibly be going on in his mind. You wondered if he felt sorry for you, or if he got some sort of smug satisfaction out of seeing you being stood up by the guy you had made Edward pretend like he didn't exist for.
"Y/n?" He asked, stepping away from the door frame, "Are you okay? Where's your date?" his eyebrows furrowed as he cautiously stepped forward towards you.
"I got stood up," you tried your hardest to laugh through your tears.
"Oh." He said, looking down at the ground, "I'm so sorry- I- you don't deserve that." He could barely look you in the eye as he brought his head back up.
"It's okay Eddie, it's fine." You say with an over-enthusiastic nod as you wipe away your tears with the entirety of the back of your palm.
"N-no it's not okay, y/n, look at you, you're crying," Edward says stubbornly, beginning to walk back towards you again. "Can I sit next to you?" he asks thoughtfully. You nod, and he takes the space next to you.
The two of you stare at each other for a moment, you can barely see him behind your tear-stained eyes.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Edward asks.
"There's not much to say, Eddie," you sigh and blink a few times rapidly to rid the tears from your eyes. Edwards's face suddenly becomes clearer as the droplets roll down your face. "One of my friends texted me saying they saw him at a bar, with some girl, when he's supposed to be here. That's it, that's the story." You answer dejectedly. You hoped you weren't coming across as rude, especially not after earlier, you just were at a loss of what to say.
"I'm sorry y/n," He repeats, "Do you want a hug?" he inquires with an innocence that makes your heart nearly melt. You can't nod 'yes' fast enough.
Suddenly Edward's arms are wrapped around you, the position is a little awkward from being on the couch, but it's comforting nonetheless. You take note of how tight he holds you, how his fingers push into your skin at just the perfect pressure, his breaths are even and calm, and everything about his presence is peaceful. You'd always enjoyed Edward's hugs, his affection in general even. It had become routine for you to seek it out: slipping into his room every night just as you were about to head to bed to give him a hug goodnight, laying your head on his shoulder when the two of you watched a movie late at night and you started to get tired, linking your arms with his when you were out and the streets got too crowded. Of course, he was your best friend, obviously, you found his presence comforting.
Still, for someone you had known who grew up receiving no comfort nor affection his entire life, he seemed to know how to give it well.
"I feel so stupid, Edward." You admit tearfully, choking out into the crook of his neck.
"You're not stupid." Edward began to rub your back reassuringly. "He's the stupid one. No man with a brain would ever stand you up."
There was something about the way that he spoke to you, his voice was always so soft, so sincere, you could listen to him speak forever. You couldn't describe how it felt, you couldn't place the word for it, the warmth that encompassed you with each word spoke. Sometimes you'd purposefully ask him about topics you knew he knew tons about so you could hear him speak for a while.
You pick your head up from where it rested against Edward's neck, pulling back slightly, staring at him. Had his hair always fallen so perfectly against his forehead, his glasses suit his face so right, his lips always looked so soft... had he always looked so... beautiful? You thought about those photo booth pictures the two of you had taken together on a day trip you had taken over the summer. You had hung them up on the mirror in your room, you saw them every single day. You thought about the sweet smile he had on his face, and how happy he looked, how every time you passed and looked at the photos you had this inexplicable giddy feeling coursing through your veins.
Edward looked you up and down and frowned,
"Look at you..." he started in a low whisper, almost to himself, "I'm sorry, I know this is forward, but you look... so beautiful tonight- you shouldn't have had to waste it." In an equally as forward move, Edward had reached forward and placed his hand on your cheek, gently wiping away with his thumb.
"Thank you, Edward," You sniffled, his small compliment meant everything to you at the moment, and a small smile cracked at the corner of your mouth. "I guess it's not such a waste if you think I look beautiful tonight."
Edward tilted his head, his jaw clenched and he swallowed hard as he seemed to struggle to maintain eye contact,
"Not just tonight- y/n, I think... I think that you look beautiful all the time."
Your eyes went wide as Edward spoke, you felt your heart skip a beat, even at the simple compliment and suddenly something clicked, everything made sense, and in your emotional state, you acted on impulse,
"Edward?" You asked, anxiously.
"Yes?"
"Can I kiss you?" You trembled as the words came from your mouth, worried you may have just ruined your entire friendship in four little words.
"Please." He said, almost as if he was begging.
Without even processing the weight of his response you pressed your lips to his, and he kissed you right back instantly. Something about it immediately felt right, all those butterflies you had been missing with the guys before suddenly entered your stomach all at once as soon as your lips met Edward's. You felt so stupid, this feeling that you'd been searching for has been right in front of you this entire time.
It was like all the breath had been knocked out of you the moment your lips met Edward's. His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, pushing you forward a little to deepen the kiss. You couldn't believe that it was even possible to feel like this, you hadn't even felt this euphoric that time you experimented with drops at a college party. Not even snorting the world's finest, purest cocaine could get you even remotely close to this feeling.
It was perfect, no, perfect could not even come close to describing it. You wondered for a moment how much experience Edward had to be this good of a kisser, you'd never seen him bring anyone home, nor had you seen him go on any dates since you'd known him, he'd never mentioned an ex's before. Yet, you were sure he had to have had some experience, no one is naturally divine with no practice, and despite you being the one in his hands now, your lips on his, you couldn't help but feel jealous of these imaginary people in your head that perhaps Edward had been with before you.
You placed both of your hands on Edward's cheeks in an attempt to pull him even closer than he already was. You knew it wasn't possible, you knew you physically couldn't pull him any closer, not when he was already touching you. The molecules that made up each of your beings vibrated too fast, too close to each other for there to ever be a possibility of being any closer to him.
It was when your hands dropped down to his neck that something within the kiss had changed, a hand suddenly found its way to your waist, gently pushing its way into your skin. You tilted your head to the side and your mouth parted slightly, and you welcomed the feeling of Edward's tongue against your own. The kiss suddenly got sloppy as you were overcome with overwhelming neediness. Your hands moved to his head where you gently tugged at his hair, making him groan softly into your lips. This small reaction drove you absolutely wild.
You find yourself shifting in your spot, both of Edward's hands on your waist now, you can feel his fingers pressing into your skin where your midriff shows between your skirt and your top. He's holding you tight, but not rough, like how one may hold very expensive and very fragile glassware; careful as to not let it slip from their hands and break.
There is something more salacious now about how your lips move together, tongues brushing past each other, gentle groans and hums slipping from your mouths. Edward's pulling you at your waist, trying to bring you into him as close as you can. You give in, lifting yourself up to your knees before bringing one leg around so you're straddling him. You wondered if this was real or if this was simply a dream, You mean- hungrily making out with your best friend on a Friday evening is not really your average night. It seemed, a little too perfect, you were half expecting this to be some sort of product of your subconscious, expressing itself as you drifted the night away. Any minute now you supposed you'd wake up with an ache between your thighs that you'd take care of, trying desperately to hold on to the last remnants of this feeling to get you off, before you inevitably cried yourself back to sleep. But the moments passed and you didn't awake, and you swore you felt everything all of it, it was all real.
You settled into Edward's lap, your hips perhaps pushing forward a little too enthusiastically. As your body moved forward you found yourself slightly confused, what the hell does Edward have in his pocket? The TV remote? There's no way that's his- oh my god he's huge.
Edward pulled back from the kiss, his glasses hung near the tip of his nose, and his eyes were wide, he looked white as a ghost, mortified.
"Oh my god- y/n- I'm so sorry." He began shaking his head perfusely.
"What? Edward, what's wrong?" You ask in response, nervous, was he not enjoying it? Did I just ruin everything? Is our friendship completely ruined? Your mind raced as Edward looked up at you with wild eyes and a slightly open mouth. He looked stuck as he began to speak, his mouth opening and closing a few times before anything could come out.
"Oh-oh, you- you didn't feel- um- you can't feel- it?" Poor Edward was trembling, his face going from a pale white to a rosy pink. You suddenly understand what he means, slightly upset that he had felt so embarrassed by something so normal.
"Well, it's kind of hard to miss." You giggle, trying to lighten the mood.
"Oh god-" he looked even more terrified, "I didn't mean- I'm so sorry."
"No- Edward. No- I didn't mean it like that," You shook your head, "It's just," you laugh a bit awkwardly, "You just seem to be pretty hung."
"I- what?" He furrowed his brows, he looked utterly confused.
"Oh..." You said slowly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, realizing he didn't know what you meant. "Like your dick, it feels pretty big."
"Oh," He sighed, a small, proud, smile forming on his face. "I didn't make you... uncomfortable... did I?"
"God, no Edward, no- no- I was, I was like totally into it," You smiled wide, placing a hand on his cheek.
"Should we- Well, can we continue then?" He asks, his chest rising and falling quickly as it seems like he's trying to catch his breath.
"Please?" You say, a little desperately.
You lean forward so your chest is nearly touching Edward's and your head is buried in his neck. As you lean forward, extending your back, your already mostly rolled-up skirt rolls the rest of the way up to your thighs. Edward slides his hands up the now exposed skin, nearly all the way to your hips, his fingertips just barely graze the waistband of your panties as his fingers slide under your skirt. The small touch gives you chills, and part of you wished he'd just hook his fingers into the band and take them off of you.
"Is it okay that I touch you like this?" He asks shyly
"Mhm," You lift your head up from his neck to look him in the eyes, "Baby... " you start, "Can I call you that?
He nods enthusiastically
"Okay, then, baby...you can do... whatever you want to me." You say slowly, deliberately, to drive home you really mean it. Because, you did, you really meant it. As you looked Edward in the eyes right at this moment, you could say with confidence that you'd never been so desperate for someone in your entire life. You were working so hard to maintain your composure but you thought for sure the whole apartment complex could hear just how loud your heart was beating. It felt like your brain had gone into overdrive, your body was hot, and could not ignore that throbbing feeling between your legs.
Your few short words made Edward twitch beneath you, and the sudden movement had you bucking your hips into his. A small groan escaped his lips at the movement, and he tipped his head so it rested over the top of the couch, which indicated to you that he was content, so you continued, moving your hips back and forth, creating delicious friction between the two of you.
You'd never been so turned on by simple foreplay before, you wondered that since there was so little fabric between you and him if he could feel how wet you had become if you pressed into him too hard.
"Mmm'Eddie...," A gentle moan slipped from your lips as your clit brushed against Edward's erection at an, especially, pleasureful angle. "Fuck"
Edward's head picks back up to look at you, his glasses are foggy from the heat of his own breath. He doesn't speak, simply he stares up at you, mouth agape, whining with every movement you make. His small sounds only make you crave him more, you can't help but want him to be louder, using the full range of his voice to tell you how good this feels. You swear you could finish right there at the idea of it.
You grab one of Edward's hands from your thighs and place it right over your heart so he can feel how fast its beating.
"Can you feel how crazy you're driving me?" You smirk.
Edward smiles back at you, seeming pleased with how much you were enjoying yourself. His hand eventually runs down the side of your body, caressing every inch of skin on the way down, before resting on your thigh once again. There was something so sweet about the way he touched you, he was eager, yet somehow at the same time, hesitant and unsure. It was nerves you figured.
"Ah- stop, stop," Edward said breathlessly, his hands suddenly becoming rigid against your thighs. "I'm about to-"
Your movements slow, and quickly stop as soon as Eddie tells you to,
"It's- it's okay if you do." You had to admit the idea of him finishing before he even got inside you was hot.
"No-no, I want to last for you." He pants.
You nod, you won't argue, you know if he spares himself from release now, you'll move onto far more pleasureful things than just some over the clothes action.
Edward's hand slips up to the hem of your shirt, his fingers slip under it slightly, before, in a somewhat more bold move, he pulls your body close to his once more, by the hem of your shirt. Then, his other hand is at the hem of your shirt and he's tugging it off of you, exposing the expensive, lacy bra you had on, the one you'd originally worn for someone else, but truth be told, you so much preferred Edward being the one who got to see it over anyone else. Your top was tossed somewhere across the room, and Edward ran his hands up and down the curves of your upper body, enjoying the feeling of your flesh underneath his palms. He examined you carefully, making sure every inch of skin had been seen by his own two eyes, taking extra time to examine your chest, which, you had to admit, looked particularly voluptuous in this bra.
"Should I take off my skirt too?" You ask.
"Yes." He responds eagerly, you find his enthusiasm endearing. You pull yourself up from where you're sitting on Edward's lap. Your legs shake slightly as you try to stand yourself up, but you're eventually able to find your balance.
"Can you get the zipper in the back for me Eddie? It get's a little stuck sometimes- and you're stronger than me." You ask with a smirk. You're half lying- Edward is stronger than you, sure, but your zipper never really gets stuck, you just wanted an excuse to have him help you undress (as well as to boost his ego a little).
"Oh, yeah, sure."
You turn around and Edward places one hand on your waist, you notice how with his fingers wrapped around the front of your torso, and his palm placed firmly on your back, his hand takes up nearly the entire side of your body that it's on. His other hand makes its way to the zipper of your skirt which he tugs down with ease. His hands then quickly trace the outline of your upper thighs, his palms slightly graze your ass as he removes them from your body.
"Thanks, Eddie." You say cheerfully before hooking your fingers into the waistband of your skirt and bending all the way over in front of Edward to take it off. You were definitely putting on a little bit of a show for him, the way you were bent over made you feel like you probably belonged in that one scene of Legally Blonde.
You slowly stepped out of your skirt, careful not to lose your balance and make a fool of yourself. You came back up, your hair flipping slightly as you did so. You turned back around at Edward, who sat in front of you, looking dumbfounded.
"Y-you're gorgeous," he choked out, "Absolutely, perfect." He said as he once again took the time to examine your body. His complements warmed your heart, they seemed so sincere, so sweet.
"Thank you Edward," you blushed as you climbed back into his lap.
You lean into Edward slightly, resting your head against his shoulder, placing light kisses against his neck. His breath is ardent against the exposed skin of your shoulder as you begin to suck on the skin of his neck. He's only slightly slick with a very fine layer of sweat on his skin, but you didn't mind, you were sure you were the same. You lightly nipped at the flesh of his neck, before continuing to place hot, sloppy kisses in the same spot. You alternated between kissing and biting against multiple spots on his neck, breaking some of the blood vessels that sat under the skin, leaving small bruise marks.
"K-keep going, I like that," Edward said, wrapping his arms around your waist in a tight embrace to keep you close to him.
"Of course Eddie," You mumble against his neck. You wonder if he can feel just how hard you're smiling against his skin, or the beat of your own heart as it presses against his chest.
You continue to kiss at Edward's neck until he speaks again,
"Wait-" His hands are on your hips again, and he picks your body up from its position against his chest. "Let me kiss you too," he says eagerly.
You're enthralled by his enthusiasm to reciprocate your affections, and his general focus on your enjoyment as well. You find it sweet, most of the time, men hardly have cared about your pleasure, sex was simply an action that benefitted them, and if you got lucky maybe they could manage to fuck you juuuuust enough for you to not have to fake an entire orgasm.
You scooted forward in Edward's lap, so now your thighs are nearly straddling his waist. Edward sits up only a little, and suddenly you realize just how tall he is. Even with you sitting on top of him, his eyes are pretty much level with yours. It's slightly intimidating, but you like it, as his hands hold you firmly at your sides you feel, safe, protected, despite your exposed and vulnerable state.
Edward's lips eventually meet your neck, they're wet and warm, and you're met with a pleasant comfort as they work against your skin.
"Ah-" A small whimper escapes your mouth as Edward's teeth lightly sink into your skin. It's a pleasurable pain, it feels so good that you nearly forget that at its core, being bitten hurts. But the light pricks of his teeth combined with the warmth of his tongue was nearly overwhelming. He wasn't even touching you inherently sexually and you were still losing your mind at how worked up you were getting. "You're... so good Edward."
He hums contently against your neck, not stopping what he is doing to respond.
You made a note in your head of how you planned exclusively to wear lower cut tops for the next few days to show off how Edward had marked you. In fact, you were almost excited to get to show off the hickes he'd left on your neck, something about him having marked you as his, just drove you absolutely insane, and the fact he had ones to match, only made it more thrilling.
Edward's teeth bore into your skin harder than they had before, which caused you to yelp slightly at the sensation. You tried your hardest not to buck your hips into his once again, despite how deeply you craved that friction against your core. It gets to a point where you cannot take it anymore, you need him, and you place your hands on Edward's chest, pulling yourself away from his kisses against your neck.
"Are you okay?" He asks nervously.
"Never better." You smile breathlessly.
You bite your lip, your hands trailing down to the waistband of Edward's pants. Your fingers graze over the buckle of his belt,
"Can I touch you, Eddie?" You ask, looking deep into his eyes.
"Yesyes-please." His head moves up and down fervently.
You scooted yourself back on his lap a little bit to allow for some room for you to pull down his clothing. You unbuckle his belt impatiently. Edward lifts his hips slightly you can move down his trousers. Your fingers hook into both the waistband of his pants and his underwear and you pull both down to about his mid-thighs simultaneously. As you pull away his layers his erection springs out of his clothes, nearly slapping back against his stomach as its freed from the restrictions of the fabric.
You looked down at Edward's lap, at his entirely rock-hard cock. Needless to say, your assumptions from before were completely correct. You were a little, stunned to say the least. It wasn't that he was exceptionally huge to the point that sex would be painful and he would completely rearrange your insides, but he was certainly, of a completely satisfactory size.
You look back up at Edward, his face now a bright red as his chest heaves up and down, and he's completely avoiding making eye contact with you. You place one hand on his cheek, it's hot from all the blood that has rushed under the skin, you brush your fingers against it gently before moving them to under his chin, you pick it up, making him look at you.
"Don't be so shy," You smile, though, you know that's just how he was naturally, you want him to be confident and comfortable while he's with you, especially in such an intimate time like this. "But- if you're uncomfortable sweetheart, we can stop." You reassure, you know the situation you're in is a weighty one.
"No, don't stop, please don't stop," He says earnestly, "I'm fine," He nods, "Perfect actually."
"I'm so glad," You're relieved to hear he's just as eager as you. You return your focus elsewhere, "God, Edward," You smirk as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, he's immediately whimpering from the moment your hand grazes the sensitive skin, "You're so big." you begin to work, pumping your fist up and down his shaft.
"You- you think so?" He asks, genuinely.
"Biggest I've ever had." You bite your lip.
You continue to work your wrist up and down at a steady pace, Edward's hips lift in time with your movements as he needily fucks into your hand.
"Like that," he barely slurs out, "Fuck that's so good. God you're so soft-"
The head of his dick leaks a small amount of pre-cum which you smear upwards with your thumb, causing Edward to sigh, completely full of pleasure.
You're having fun, more fun than you have ever had giving someone a handjob. Something about how evident it was that Edward was enjoying himself, his whimpers and moans, his soft words of praise, it was delightful. Seeing Edward so completely in bliss as he threw his head back and his glasses slipped down his face filled your heart with the most overwhelming joy.
Seeing Edward in this state also only added to how absolutely badly you wanted him, the throbbing in your core was absolutely unbareable. You don't think you'd ever been so wet in your life, and you were certain that Edward could hear just how wet he'd made you everytime you moved even slightly.
"Fuck, Edward," You moaned as you looked into his lap, watching as his cock began to twitch in his hand, signifying he was close to release. "Edward I need you so bad. Can I have you? Please, please Edward." You begged eagerly, he hadn't even denied you anything, you were just so desperate to have him inside you, you felt the need to beg for it.
"Yes- yes." He nodded, his head moved up and down rapidly as he panted, trying desperately to catch his breath. You removed your hand from him, ready to finally jump his bones. "Wait, Y/n, before we start- can- can I tell you something?" he asked, somewhat hesitantly.
"Of course baby."
"I, um, I haven't ever- this is my first time." He admitted, looking somewhat ashamed. You had to admit, you were a little shocked, not in a bad way, you were just surprised Edward had never had sex before. It was just hard to believe, he was just such an absolute pleasure to be around and, he was so, so very very handsome.
"That's okay Eddie- that's alright." You smile reassuringly, you're excited to be his first time, you hoped that you've made it at least somewhat special for him so far.
"Just- what if I finish too soon?" He asks, pushing his glasses up on his face.
"What if?" You ask, "Then that's okay, there's no shame." you assure.
"I just don't want to disappoint you, I mean- I know I will, but I want to make you cum to."
It was entirely endearing how focused on you Edward was, even during his first time.
"You won't disappoint me Eddie," You frown, "I mean this when I say, you're already the best I've ever had." It was true, you hadn't even gotten to home base, hell, your pussy had barely been touched, and you were already over the moon. Maybe it was because perhaps this was a long time coming, but the overwhelming joy you felt even just being in this situation with Edward was incomprable to anything you've felt before.
"Are you sure?" he asks carefully.
"Positive baby," you lean close to him and give him a reassuring kiss on the cheek. "Plus, there's more ways to make me cum than just using your cock."
"Okay," Edward nodded.
"Can I...?"
"Yes."
You smirked, and sat up on your knees a little so you could adjust your panties. Though, before you could get to it, Edward had pushed two fingers into the crotch of your underwear. You moaned softly as a gentle finger brushed against your clit, his fingers slid against your soaked folds as he hooked his fingers under the fabric and pulled it aside. Edward seemed slightly astonished at how wet you were, as were you. The air from the apartment was cool as it met your wet cunt, causing you to shiver slightly.
"I didn't know it was usual to get this wet," Edward said, a little surprised.
"I don't usually," You admitted, and then leaned forward so your lips barely grazed the lobe of his ear, "This is all from you."
You couldn't see Edward's reaction to what you had said but, you did find his hands on your hips once again, guiding you slowly to him. Eventually you felt the head of his cock brush against your clit, and you swear you were already ready to cum right then and there. It took some slight manuvering, his tip sliding between your wet folds towards your entrance. Eventually, you felt that you were properly aligned and you sighed, your anticipation not able to take it anymore, and you began to slide down his cock.
You were a mess from the moment his tip met your entrance, your fingers dug into his torso at the pleasurful stretching sensation.
"Fuck, Eddie," You moaned nearly immediately. Edward was able to enter you with complete ease, with how wet you were and all.
"Fuck- you're so-" Edward groaned, "So... so... wet, and warm, fuck." he looked like he was losing his mind, but you absolutely were too. You were both breathless by the time he had entered you completely, you couldn't believe how deep inside you he was. Still, despite the size, again, it was not to a point where it was painful. He was, just right.
You had to regain your composure before you could lift your hips up again. You took a deep breath before sitting up on your knees once more,
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck," You moaned at the sensation of Edward's length moving against your walls. Then you lowerd yourself once more, cock once again burrying itself into your cunt. As Edward bottomed out into you you stayed there for a moment once more, rocking your hips back and forth, really savoring the feeling of him inside of you. "SHIT." you exclaimed as you bent your hips at just the right angle for him to hit that perfect spot inside you.
Meanwhile, Edward seems to be in an equal amount of bliss. Actually, you noted he looked, sort of like he was having an exorcism. His mouth wide open, moaning, his head and eyes both rolled back as his body shook.
You began to pick up the pace a little, you raising and lowering your hips at an increasingly faster rate. Edward's hands only lightly guided you up and down his shaft, as, you were doing most of the work. But, you didn't mind that, not at all, how could you when he looked like that. Despite your previous notion of how he seems as if he's getting a demon exorcized out of him, he still, looked like an angel. The way his shaggy hair framed his face, the way his fogged glasses slipped down the perfectly curved bridge of his nose, how the warm flush of red in his skin perfectly complemented his soft, roud, cheeks.
"You're so pretty Eddie," You slur, "So soo pretty Eddie"
"You're..." His hands slide up from your hips to just under your tits, "God- fuck, you're so beautiful." He's breathless, panting lounder than a dog after playing in the sun. "I can't b-believe I have you like this right now" the words fall from his mouth lazily.
"It's my pleasure, handsome," You lean over, pressing your chest to his, and letting your head fall against his shoulder. His hips suddenly buck into you, meeting your pace, and that combined with the new angle you're situated in, makes you cry out in pleasure. Your shrieks are only stiffled by the skin of Edward's neck. "Please, please keep doing that Eddie, fuck, Eddie." You cannot get enough of the feeling as you suddenly start to feel something bubbling in your lower stomach. You couldn't have been coming close this soon? Could you?
"Fuck" Edward suddenly exclaims, making you life your head. "I'm- I'm gonna- fuck- this feels too good- I can't-"
"Go ahead, cum for me baby." You urge, you can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, which only adds to your neediness, the pressure in your abdomen only growing more and more noticable with the passing seconds.
Edward sputters out a long string of expletives as the movements of his hips become lazy.
"God, I'm-" and suddenly he's finishing inside of you, it's warm, and any remaining friction between the two of you completely disappears as he does so, your combined wetness makes your slowing movements entirely fluid. His mouth is wide, and he is moaning insesentally while simultaneously trying to remember how to breathe. Despite being on top of him, the weight of your body cannot stop the shake in his legs as he empties into you. You cannot remember the last time you'd let someone finish inside you, despite being on the pill, you'd always made everyone you were with use protection, it was a mental thing. But Edward, you didn't mind, in fact you enjoyed the feeling of him emptying inside you, you wanted him to fill you up. And full you were as you slowed your hips, ready to stop.
"No- no," Edward can barely gasp out, his fingers holding onto your sides so hard you're sure they'll leave bruises. "Keep going, I want you to cum too."
"Eddie- are you sure?" You ask, noting how clearly spent he was, "I don't want to kill you baby."
"No, keep going," Edward places his head into the crook of your neck, "If you kill me, at least I'll die happy." He says which causes the two of you to laugh slightly.
"Okay baby, thank you." You say, appreciative that he's ready to take this overstiumlation, especially on his first time, to let you finish too. "I'm already, so close." You moan as your hips begin to pick up speed again.
The tightening in your abdomen has not gone away, it only increases as you continue to move your hips up and down. You're breathless by now, and your legs begin to shake. Every, single, time, your hips meet Edward's his tip hits the perfect spot, and you're whining so loud you're sure you'll be getting a noise complaint any moment now.
The wave of pleasure that's begining to fall over you is nothing like you've ever felt before, your brain is so fogged up from all the pleasure you're experiencing you don't even think you could get a coherent sentence out. You suddenly understood the phrase "Getting your brains fucked out" because you were certain after this you'd have none left.
Edward's even more of a mess, clearly completely overstimulated as tears begin to form in his eyes. You're looking at him, concerned, wondering if you should stop.
"Keepgoingkeepgoing," He urges,
You're close, so close, you feel like you're going to explode.
"Edward, fuck fuck fuck I'm gonna cum-" You essentially scream as your fingers dig into his torso. You're grabbing at him above his shirt, but your nails have sunk in so deep you worry you've perhaps broken skin. The pressure in your lower stomach has reached it's breaking point, and your inner thighs are pulsing as you begin to unwind.
"Yes- ah- come on" Edward whines, only egging on your impending orgasm.
"I'm- I'm-" You barely shriek out before you're there, "Fuck!" You begin to release, you're shaking and your hips are twitching as your pussy clenches around Edward. You wonder if he can feel the throbbing of your cunt against him, or if he's noticed just how wet it's gotten from you cumming so hard.
You sink into Edward as the last of your orgasm comes to an end, your legs are twitching wildly and you cannot even begin to try to lift yourself up from your spot on top of him.
Maybe it's from the overwhelming pleasure, or the fact that you just had sex with someone who meant so much to you, but you felt yourself about to cry.
"Oh , Edward," You whimpered into his neck as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. It didn't work, the lump remained, urging you to let your emotions out. You slowly release your nails from his torso, hoping you hadn't hurt him too much, unless he was into that sort of thing, then you hoped you'd hurt him just enough. You were soon wrapping your arms around his back, pulling him into a bone crushing embrace.
Edward's arms snaked around you as well, as he pulled you even further against him, the small movement making him shift slightly inside of you, causing you to whine at the small stimulation.
"Sorry-sorry," He says, his words are choked and shaky, and his lack of breath is obvious.
You sniffle into Edward's neck as you start to cry just a little. You'd never cried after sex, this was a first. You couldn't even understand why you were crying, the emotions that were penetrating your brain right now were just way too much.
You picked your head up a little, to look at Edward, and you hoped he wouldn't question the tears that stained your eyes. To your surprise, when your gaze met his, you had noticed a few tear drops that had streamed down Edward's cheeks, and you realized he was crying as well. Which, made you want to sob even harder.
"God, Edward," You gasp, before pressing your lips to his. The kiss is breathless, the two of you still exhasperated from before. Still, you never, ever wanted to leave this moment, you felt so safe in your vulnerability right now. You had no clue of Edward's motives for having sex with you; maybe he'd just gotten horny, or maybe he genuinely liked you in a more romantic sort of way. Still, despite that unknown, in his protective hold, you'd never felt more safe, more taken care of, than you did in this very moment.
"Should we uh- get cleaned up?" Edward asks, breaking away from the kiss.
"Oh, yeah, yeah," You sniffle.
You slowly, lift yourself off of Edward, the feeling of him slidling out of your spent cunt made your head fuzzy with overstimutation. Still, you'd lifted up eniugh to where he was completely out of you, his dick, now limp, falling into his lap. You whined slightly at the loss of contact, now empty, you could feel Edward's finish leaking out of you, running down the inside of your upper thighs.
You placed your hands on either side of Edward and tried to steady yourself enough to stand up, your legs still wavering slightly as your feet touched the floor. Edward reached his hands out to grab you as you straightened yourself up to help you keep your balance. Once you were sure you were not going to fall, you fixed your panties so they covered you completely once more, and headed for your bathroom.
A few moments later your cleaned up, laying in your bed, Edward at your side, the two of you aren't touching, only lying next to each other, above the sheets, staring up at the ceiling of the dim room.
"Thank you for letting me be your first time." You say.
"I- I wouldn't have wanted it to be anyone else."
"Really?"
"Y-yeah." He nods, "I suppose we've kind of... gotten past the point of embarassment now that you've uh- seen my dick and all-" He chuckles nervously, "So, if I'm just being completely honest- and please don't hate me for this- I've thought about it, a lot, you know. This."
A small smile forms at your lips at this admission as you look over towards Edward, it was flattering, especially coming from Edward.
"Well," you start, "Then, I'm extra glad I was able to give you what you want."
Edward looks over and smiles back at you, he looks like he's about to attempt to speak again, but he doesn't. Suddenly his smile drops and he looks worried,
"But please don't take that as I only wanted to be friends with you because I wanted to have sex with you because that is not the case. I really enjoy your company, you're the greatest person I ever met, and I really like you a lot, so please don't think otherwise," He says, the words fire out of his mouth at a nervous, rapid, pace, and you furrow your eyebrows as you try to understand each shaky word.
"You think I'm the greatest person you've ever met?" You ask, dumbfounded, a giddy smile forming at the corners of your mouth. You feel your cheeks get hot and you're sure you're bright red in the face right now.
"Yeah, you're like, the coolest." He looks back up at the ceiling, "You're... so sweet, and funny, you're beautiful- and, most of all, I guess, you gave me a chance- no one has ever given me a chance."
You don't know whether to smile or cry upon hearing Edward's words. He had told you, a few times, some stories of his childhood, the conditions he grew up with, how he'd never felt wanted ever in his life. Some of the things he had told you were so gutwrenching that, despite you having acted strong in the moment in order to comfort him, you had secretly cried over when you were alone.
"Oh Edward, thank you..." You scooch a little closer to him, placing an arm over his midsection, and lying your head on his chest. "I wish more people had given you a chance."
"It's alright, I guess," He places an arm around your back, "I'm just grateful that at least you did."
"I am too," You admit, "I'm sorry about before, essentially telling you to lock yourself in your room."
"No, don't apologize, I overreated."
"I don't think so Eddie, this is your house too. I- it's just- well if we're confessing things now, I guess- I was just nervous, I'd never brought a guy into our home before and- Edward, that's because of you."
"Because of me? I never said you couldn't-"
"No- not like that just, I think, I knew, that if I brought someone home, and then I saw you, I wouldn't have wanted them anymore." You sigh, it felt good, coming to the realization of why you'd truly been so anxious about bringing guys home. "Because... I knew- that- if I was reminded of you, I'd remember how no one could ever live up to... well... you." You confess.
"Live up to me?"
"Yeah," you sigh, "Edward, you're like the pefect man, seriously, I don't know how you haven't been like- drowning in pussy." You giggle. Edward laughs a long a little as well.
"You really think so? You know, you could do better."
"You're everything I could ever want. There is no better."
You could hear how Edward's heartrate increased from your spot on his chest, and if you were being honest, you're heart was beating out of your chest too.
"Does this mean, maybe, you'd uh- want to be my girlfriend- or something?" He asked, his voice faltering slightly.
"Are you asking me out Edward?" You smile.
"Y-yeah, I think so."
You sit up from where you're laid on Edward's chest, and turn so you're looking down at him.
"I'd love to be your girlfriend Eddie." You nod, overcome with the most overbearing joy.
You place both of your hands on Edward's cheeks and lean into him, placing a kiss directly on his lips. Both of Edward's arms wrap around your back, and he pulls you back down to his chest, as both of your bodies tangle up in eachother, and you feel his warm embrace around you, there's only one thing you're thinking, "Mine."
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danoberry · 1 year
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★ sugar baby (burt fabelman x reader) SMUT 18+
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description: you notice an attractive older man taking a seat close to you on a park bench. you didn’t know he would end up spending so much to make you happy when you finally talked to him.
content: 18+ SMUT!!!, age gap (reader is of age obviously), burt is a sugar daddy, burt is also very much a dad, takes place after the movie “the fabelmans,” lots of use of “bunny” and pet names, cunnilingus, overstim, fingering, cum play if you squint
pronouns: you/yours (female reader)
wc: 3.5k
afab genitalia
A/N :
i wanted to post something on christmas for everyone but sadly i just did not have the motivation. so i present this instead (thank you to everyone in the discord server who encouraged this fic- it’s one of my favs now). happy new year’s eve!
Burt Fabelman takes a seat not a terribly great distance from you. He reads a book- a manual of some sort- while his fingers tip-tap on his thigh. You watch the man with intent. He must be approaching his 40s, you think. The minute stubble growing on his chin and pudginess on his stomach are pure indicators. There’s something about him that’s attracting you. The way he’s carrying himself, the way he’s handling everything he has in his clutch with care. Your cheeks started to heat up just looking at the man. You would’ve never expected him to be a sugar daddy.
I’m probably half his age! Who am I kidding? You think to yourself, taking your eyes off of him and looking down at the concrete. A homewrecker is never something you’d want to be labeled. You drown in thought as your eyes stare a hole into the ground, until a voice startles you, almost out of your seat.
“Hon?” 
You look up, and there he is. The man you were just fixated on, right in front of you. Your face flushes a deep red. You can feel the heat in your neck. 
“Oh- hi!” You say with innocence, like you weren’t just staring at him like he was eye candy.
“I uh… saw you staring a second ago. Are you alright?”
You smile, incredibly nervous. “Yeah! Hah… I’ve always had a staring problem.” You watch him slightly cock his eyebrow. 
“I mean- I didn’t mean to stare so much… I’m sorry.” You blush deeper, heating up.
“Oh honey, it’s alright! I was just making sure you were doing okay! You seemed a bit… disheveled.” He sits down right next to you, as you curse yourself internally. Your legs slowly turn to jello.
“Nope! I’m doing pretty good…” 
“I’m glad to hear that… I have a few kids who I can usually tell when they’re not alright. Of course they’re with their mom for the season… I guess I was trying to find someone to take care of when they’re away!” He laughs. 
You sit there with your legs crossed and your hands in your lap. Not necessarily uncomfortable from the man himself, but from the fact he was making you feel so damn flustered. You giggle at his remark, before he speaks again.
“I’m sure you have children of yourself, what’s a girl like yourself doing at a park with nobody?” 
You actually laugh this time. 
“Kids? Absolutely not, not yet.” 
“Really? I mean- you definitely don’t look old, definitely not as old as me, but you seem mature!” He says with genuine surprise.
“Oh, sir, I don’t even have a boyfriend- let alone a child.”
“Wow!” He breathes out. “It’s Burt, by the way, Burt Fabelman. No need to call me sir, you’d make me feel too old.” 
“Oh no, that’s not what I meant by it all!” You defend, scared that you blew it. But he’s quick to reassure you simply.
“It’s okay hon, I know.” 
You sit there for a moment, twiddling your thumbs, and look back up at him. Burt’s staring down at you. When his eyes meet yours, he smiles. It’s warm, sweet. It gives you a tingly feeling in your core.
“Are you really alright?” He asks again, concerned. “Your face is very red…”
He lays the back of his palm on your forehead and you feel like you’re going to explode. 
“No, I’m fine, really!”
He chuckles at your response and feels your cheek with the back of his hand, still very concerned with your state. 
“I have four kids, I know when they’re lying, too, honey.”
You hesitate. Should I lie? You debate. You revel in the consequences before you finally decide that you would come clean. You have nothing to lose, you don't even know the man, hardly. 
“Do you want the truth?” You ask, fiddling with your dress. 
“If it’s not gonna scare me off,” he says as he laughs.
“Well,” you start, ”this is embarrassing, but I saw you sitting on that bench, and I thought you were attractive and I guess I couldn’t stop staring- and I know that sounds really weird but It wasn’t like I was going to just get up and walk on over to say ‘Hello!’ because God only knows-”
“Woah! Hey!”
You bury your face as deep as they could possibly go into your hands out of embarrassment. God, you think, I sound like a fucking baby!
“I’m not mad at you!” He laughs. Oh. “Quite frankly, I think you’re beautiful... actually, way out of my league! Why would such a young, pretty girl want anything to do with an old man like me?”
Oh…?
“I… you just look like you know how to take care of someone… and I think you’re quite handsome,” You reply shyly, not daring to look up at him. 
“Well aren’t you just so sweet,” Burt replies affectionately, coddling you. “Look up at me, please.”
You look up into his eyes, afraid yet unable to look away. 
“How about this… I can take you back to your car, and I’ll give you my phone number so we can talk about it this evening. Does that sound good to you?”
You nod your head and walk with him to your car. If he were any other older man walking you to your car, you would have been exceedingly uncomfortable, but Burt Fabelman had a comforting presence as he loomed over you.
Approaching your car, your lips curl into a smile when you sit in the front seat. 
“Do you have a napkin?” He asks.
You reply with a simple “mhm” and hand him a napkin after digging through your purse.
He grabs a pen from his coat pocket and clicks it, writing his phone number on the napkin laying against his hand. You watch him finish his writing and hand the napkin back to you, leaning over the car. You stare at the writing, before looking back at him as he stands over you. 
“Promise me you’ll call?” He asks with a smile.
“I’m looking forward to it, Burt.”
Over the next few days you and Burt constantly talk over the phone. You even leave a chair under the phone on the wall for when either of you decide to call. You learn much about him over the days following— and vice versa. 
Those late night phone calls turn into less of casual discussions of the past, and more playful conversations of the present. You slowly realize how much of a flirt Burt can become when he’s comfortable. He proposes the idea of a date while you fiddle with the cord one late night, saying, “I can’t wait to see you again, bunny. Let me take you somewhere— the shops. I’ll get you whatever you want.” 
Burt was more than delighted to hear you’d be willing to go on a date with him. He hadn’t gone on a real date in years, and he was glad he’d be able to go on one with you. It was kind of strange for a first date, you thought, to go to the shops instead of the traditional dinner at a fancy restaurant, but you wouldn’t dare complain about getting spoiled by a charming, handsome older man.
You decide on a pretty dress and flats, adorning yourself with silver jewelry and floral perfume. Lipstick paints your lips and mascara enhances your eyelashes with every flutter. You carry your purse under your arm as you walk to the entrance, looking around for any sign of Burt. Almost immediately, he catches your eye. He stands tall next to the fountain, his glasses seated on his nose quite low, in a turtleneck and a blazer, an outfit that made you heat up admiring him.
Your face flushes as you stare up at him. 
“Hey, sweetheart!” he breathes quietly, pushing your hair behind your ear. 
“Hi- thanks for inviting me here,” you say as you smile at him. 
“Of course. Where did you want to go first?”
“Uhh- well, I have been wanting to hear the new ‘Temptations’ record.“ 
Burt chuckles, “Oh honey, I’d be more than glad to get you a record, but what do you really want?” 
You tap your foot out of nervousness, you didn’t really think he was being serious when he told you he’d buy you whatever you wanted on that phone call a few nights prior. “If I was being honest I’d really appreciate some new earrings, but you don’t-“ 
“Okay, then that’s what we’ll look at! Is that okay? I can get your record, too.” 
You feel slightly aghast by his offer, but you’re quick to comply. “I mean, it sounds good to me!” 
“Great,” He says, holding his hand out for you to grasp.
You take his hand and walk with him down the atrium, to the jewelry store. When you arrive, you both are greeted by a salesperson who helps you pick out a beautiful pair of earrings: pretty diamond studs. Despite your protests to Burt, because of how expensive they turn out to be, he buys them for you. 
“You really don’t have to spend this much money on me- I appreciate it so much, Burt, but really-“ 
“A beautiful lady like you needs a beautiful pair of earrings. Don’t mention it, doll. I insist.” 
He walks with you out of the store, holding the bag for you. 
“You should put your earrings in, I want to see them!” 
“Oh,” you started, “sure, why not!”
He holds the bag up to you to take the earrings out and put them in your ears. After you do this, you place the box back into the bag, thanking him again.
“They’re gorgeous,” Burt says, astonished. 
“Thank you,” you say, grinning wide.
He kisses you on the cheek and looms over you again. 
“Not as gorgeous as you though, for sure.” 
“Thank you,” is all you can dreamily mutter again, blushing at the floor. 
You hold Burt’s hand on the walk to the record store, blushing the way there. You arrive and quickly find what you’re looking for. You head to the register alone, but Burt insists you pick out a few more, and one for him to listen to. You pick up The Beatles, Beach Boys, and a few more with interesting covers. At the checkout, he forks out money from his wallet like it was nothing, rubbing your shoulder with his left hand. 
You two walk out of the store hand in hand, and mutually decide it’s time to go home, though neither of you want to truly leave each other's company. When you both reach the front gate, he asks if you want to sit in his car and talk for a moment. You immediately oblige and walk with him, taking a seat in the front passenger. 
“I don’t want to leave right now- I feel like I could spend hours with you,” you say with ruby-red cheeks, looking down at your feet. 
“I don’t want to leave you either, bunny. Look at me.” 
He gently tilts your head up at him, using the back of his palm against your chin. 
“Do you want to come home with me tonight? I’ll make sure we come back and get your car in the morning.” 
You look in Burt’s eyes for a moment and nod your head. He leans into you and plants a kiss on your lips, letting it linger for a moment, and pulls away.
“Throw the stuff in the back. I’ll take you, baby.” 
Your eyes frost over with tears formed from pure excitement, and a haze prohibits your view while you grin secretly, looking out the window.
You put your bags in the back and he drives off with you almost giggling in the passenger seat. You admire him at stoplights, his stature, mixed with the glow of the red, yellow, green on his face. You couldn’t believe it. He’s taking you back to his house. Who knows what you’re about to do.
He pulls into his dark driveway and turns off the engine, stepping out, as you do the same. He shows  you to the front door, and you both walk into the beautiful living room together, surrounded by windows. He turns on the light behind you and hangs his blazer on the rack.
“Wanna sit?” He asks as you walk in, motioning over to the couch. 
“Oh, yeah sure.” 
“Make yourself comfortable, hon.” 
You watched him grab two glasses of water from the kitchen and walk over to you, sitting them down on the coffee table and sitting down himself. 
“You really are such a beautiful lady, you know?” 
“Thank you, Burt,” you flustered. “You’re very handsome as well.” 
“I didn’t think I’d ever get to meet someone as pretty and sweet as you are, dear. You make me feel wonderful.”  
“I feel wonderful when I’m with you, too.” 
A grin formed on Burt’s face and he leaned to kiss you, to which you completely oblige as you deepen the kiss, humming into his mouth. Burt lays one of his large hands on your thigh, playing with his thumb, rubbing under the hem of your dress. His calloused fingertips toyed with the fabric. 
“Do you like it when I touch you there?” 
You nodded your head. 
“Okay, baby.” 
You feel your pussy slowly start to ache as he rubs  your inner thigh, kissing you hungrily. You feel completely swallowed by your attraction to him, as you spread your thighs apart and invite his hand farther up your dress. 
“Please, Burt,” you whisper. 
“I’ll take care of you, bunny.” 
He picks you up bridal style and kisses you again, walking you back to his room. You're placed on the bed and Burt lifts up the bottom of your dress, exposing your lace panties and the lower half of your stomach. 
“You wear these often?” He asks, gently squeezing the meat of your thigh. 
“Not necessarily…” you shyly remark. 
“They’re cute, sweetheart. Red’s your color.” 
He dips down and kisses you again. “Can I get this dress off of you?
You squeak, absolutely overtaken by affection, “Mhm.”
You sit up and Burt helps you take the dress off above your head. You feel exposed— lying there in your lace, while he hovers over you fully clothed. The feeling doesn’t last long, however, because before you know it, Burt is taking off his turtleneck and you see his pudgy belly sitting at the top of his pants. 
“I’m gonna fuck you so good, bunny. You want me to fuck you, hm?” 
“Yes, daddy,”  you whisper boldly.
“I haven’t heard that one before,” Burt chuckles. “Daddy’s gonna make you feel good, bunny. Come here.” 
You sit up and get closer to him, batting your eyes. He cups your cheek in his hand, rubbing it with his thumb. You kiss and nuzzle into the side of his hand, looking up at Burt with a neediness in your eyes.
“Such a pretty baby,” he says, in awe. “Lay back.” 
You obey his demand and lay on your back, your breasts almost spilling out of your bra. Burt leans over you and puts his hands behind your back, unsnapping your bra and taking it off. He cups one of your tits and pinches your nipple, requiting a squeak out of your mouth. Burt laughs and kisses your forehead, apologizing for shocking you like that, before he trails his fingers down your body, making you shiver in reaction. 
Burt grabs your sides and shifts you forward, beginning to peel off the sides of your lace panties. The slick, already formed on your panties, strung out for a moment while you watch him slowly peel them off, from your thighs to off of your ankles.
“So wet,” you hear him purr. 
He takes his thumb and lays it over your sensitive clit, making you hum a moan. He leans over the bed and brings his face to your heat, pulsing with need. You feel his hot breath against your folds, before he brings his lips to you, collecting your slick with his tongue, lapping up and down as you begin to cry out moans and curses. 
You feel him fuck you with his tongue and suck at your clit, making your back arch away from the matress. You hold his head down with your hand, screaming out against your other one. Your thighs begin to squeeze together as you cry out his name, almost squeezing his head along with them. You feel Burt take his rough hands and use both of them to hold your legs down on each side, squeezing into the plush of your thighs. The resistance turns you on more than you already are.
He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and uses them to spread around your pussy, lathering his fingers with fluid, pushing one into you while he sucks you all that he could. He begins slowly, but gets decently faster as he curls into you perfectly. You feel the knot in your stomach forming as he gets faster with his movements. You moan his name more and more, giving him validation that he’s doing a good job.
Your walls tighten around his fingers, making it harder for Burt to curl in and out of you. You feel your impending orgasm build and build as you try to relax your muscles and prolong your pleasure. 
“C’mon, I know you can do it bunny. Cum all over my fingers,” Burt praises. 
“Burt I- ohh- I- fuck!”
Your orgasm crashes over you in a huge wave, your muscles contract while you pant and repeat his name like a prayer. You notice your orgasm slowly calming, but your arousal sticking, and you realize he never stopped finger-fucking you in the first place. 
“O-Oh, baby! Ah-hnng… Burt!” 
He kisses up your stomach with wet lips. 
“I told you I was gonna fuck you good, bunny.” He raises his eyebrows and pulls his fingers out of you, smearing the cum all over the front of your cunt, all spent and red and wet, and wiping the rest on your tits, hardening your nipples from cold air. 
Burt picks you up by the hips again and adjusts you towards the headboard, shuffling off his pants and underwear. He towers over you, his cock leaking from his bright pink tip, thick enough to stretch you out but not long enough to hurt your cervix. 
“You ready for my cock, hon? Gonna let daddy stretch you out?” 
“Mmm, ‘m so ready, ‘m so ready, daddy,” you say, though absolutely spent. 
Burt spends no time hesitating to lather his cock with your juices, feeling your folds with his thickness and slowly putting himself inside you. You mewl as he leans over your body, his lower half deliciously touching your clit. You feel overstimulated but absolutely desperate for his body to be close to yours.
He fucks into you while wet noises fill the room, combining with your moans of ecstasy and his groans and grunts of pleasure. Your legs wrap around his back and he uses his hands to cup behind your head, bringing your bodies closer together. Your foreheads touch together, and Burt looks into your eyes, overwhelmed by your beauty and how good you make him feel. 
“Mm- Burt, baby, hnng- Daddy… please,” you cry out, salivating, pinching your eyes shut as he rutted into you and tears fell down your face, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of your bodies.
“Take it… all for me… bunny.” 
Burt gives you a kiss, mid moan, and by the time the kiss was over, your second orgasm happened almost immediately, crashing over you harder than your previous one. You let out a scream of pleasure while he fucked into you a few more times, finally cumming as well, painting your walls with warm, thick stripes of cum, that made your cunt clench even harder from the feeling. 
Burt kisses you again, slowly removing his cock from your dripping pussy, spewing it out with a pulse. Cum pools below your thighs, making the sheet sticky from under you. You both know it— it’s gross, but neither of you want to leave each other’s company. He lays down beside you, while your eyes flutter. You look cock-drunk from your drool and tears.
“You’re so good baby,” he kisses you. “You’re so good for me.” 
Burt puts the hair out of your face before you reply. 
“Thank you so much, Burt ,” you say with a yawn and a smile. 
“Of course, my pretty girl.”
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devilfic · 4 months
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Could you write some fluffy headcanons about Edward Nashton when he was still in the orphanage? I just want little choir boy Eddie to get some affection
❝young!edward nashton headcanons❞
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pairing: edward nashton x gn!reader. cw: none! words: 1.2k.
a/n: ngl, this one is a little difficult because almost all of edward's life in the orphanage was awful asfkaskfj but I'll try! this is more edward centric than x reader bc I wasn't sure if that's what you wanted. these headcanons jump around from childhood to when eddie is a teenager.
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I like to think edward always had really severe bedhead which he would not take care of at all
the exception being if it was for mass, but this used to get him in trouble with the wardens a lot
until one year he just buzzed it all off bc he was sick of getting yelled at about it all the time.... except all the wardens were DEVASTATED
"your hair fit you so well :(((" "why would you do that? it looked really nice when you combed it"
the wardens were rarely ever nice to him so he was very taken aback by this
so he eventually let it grow out again and started. kinda taking pride in his hair?
there wasn't a lot he could do with what little the orphanage had to go around, but sometimes with the money he'd get from his delivery job, he'd buy some nice hair gel and do his hair really neat before leaving for the day. eventually he would get compliments about how nice and soft it was and sometimes pretty people at school would ask to touch it which used to send his little heart into OVERDRIVE
tried growing it down to his shoulders ONE time but he eventually had to invest in hair ties and that was just way too much work
I can't remember if his hobbies are ever mentioned in the before the batman novel but since paul dano is a movie buff in real life, I think it would be cute if eddie was too
when he would get some money, he'd cut class to go to matinee showings and have the time of his life
it was nice bc it was somewhere he could be alone for a few hours and he could always afford a little escapism
the nights where his mind was still fresh with a movie he'd seen earlier in the day were some of the easier ones
sometimes he'd lay up in bed replaying them over and over in his head until he conked out for the night
and sometimes, when the really young kids couldn't fall asleep at night, he'd recite the plot of the movies he saw as bedtime stories
the older kids are awful to him but the younger kids? they love his bedtime stories
(he also might've gotten reported to the wardens about cutting class to see movies but his grades are so good that if they call about him skipping out on a class every now and then, some of the teachers will just straight up lie for him)
(and I mean, he gets really good grades. as long as he passes his classes and isn't getting into anything bad, they couldn't care less)
ironically, his time as a choir boy made him want to join a rock band as a kid
edward probably had a cheap little cd player he kept close to his heart and a secret stash of cds hidden in one of the ceiling tiles in the boys' bathroom that he'd pull out when he was alone and just lose himself in the music
I also like to think he's a fan of math rock and midwest emo because why wouldn't he be
once he got too old to be a choir boy, he started taking lessons from the organist just so he could do something with his hands
but you know what he'd really love to play if he could? the bass
if he'd had the money (and the assurance no one would destroy it), he would've loved to get a bass and just shred on it all hours of the night
(I'd like to think older eddie puts some of that accountant money toward one and it's one of his prized possessions. he may not be the best at it, but he can play his favorite songs and that's much better than nearer my god to thee)
(he definitely sings under his breath too while he plays, partly because his neighbors would complain if he sang any louder and partly because he hasn't really gotten used to losing that choir boy voice)
(this is definitely inspired by the fact that paul is in a band btw)
very eloquent writer!! he used to write poems and songs as a kid that he'd run by his english teacher after class to get advice on
he's written a few secret admirer love letters to crushes over the years with that skill. he never had the guts to reveal he was the one behind them, but he preferred the reveals in his head where they at least could never go wrong
truth was, he'd slip in some riddles from time to time and it almost surely gave him away, but none of his crushes ever outed him on it and that was a small victory
used to take naps in church when he could get away with it but his snore would always give him away
(can you imagine that being why no one liked him. no edward, the orphanage kids didn't hate you because you liked riddles, they hated you because you snore too loud)
near insatiable sweet tooth which he carries into adulthood
teachers would sneak him bags of candy on his birthday that he'd guard with his LIFE so the other kids wouldn't steal any
the wardens would also have to save money on birthday cakes so sometimes all the kids born in a month would all share one cake, but sometimes one of the wardens would save him an extra slice without the other kids knowing if he helped her with her crossword puzzles or filing her taxes
if this takes place in the first snow universe, I'd also like to think that tween-age eddie would sneak out at night to come see you at your place
you'd wait for the tell-tale sign he was there—a small pebble at your window, followed by two more just to be clear, and then you'd rush downstairs to let him slip in through the backdoor
you'd share the leftovers from dinner in your room, laughing under the sheets as you shoot "would you rather"s at each other for as long as you have breath in your giggling little lungs
(you'd almost been caught a few times, and as eddie got older and as he eventually started climbing through your window when his legs got long enough, the rush of hiding under your bed while your father asked what all the noise was about would get him a little lightheaded)
sometimes you two would even lay in bed with the bedroom door locked (when you were old enough to get away with doing that), sharing your fears and worries and ambitions for the future
and you'd always fall asleep first
and he would just lay there, content, facing you, watching your smushed face in the pillow and your hand still half gripping at his wrist over something funny he'd said ten minutes earlier
he'd always tuck you back in tight and sneak out the back door bc he didn't want to leave the window open in the winter, and he surely didn't want to wake you to close it
your mother sometimes saw, but she never said a thing about it to you, and you and edward were both too confidently stupid and young to think you'd been caught
and if you noticed that she always made just a little too much extra at dinner these days... well, nothing really needed to be said about that
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taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs
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imagine--if · 1 year
Text
E. Nashton
A/N: Here you go, I promised, I hope you like it 😅💚 I think I'll do a part two of him confessing later, maybe disguising himself as The Riddler cus he's still a little shy 🥺️
Words: 1069
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Everyone at work is the same. Quite loud and obnoxious, money-makers, party-goers, busy professionals. As professional as you can get in a city like Gotham, anyway. You just wanted to make enough money to have as easy a life as you could bargain for in this place, or maybe save up to move somewhere else. For now, though, you're stuck in the same office building, checking over the same papers sent up by the forensics accountants team downstairs.
But there's one employee down there who's just as quiet and polite as you try to be. You probably wouldn't have noticed him, just like his peers, if it wasn't for seeing his name signed in a rather odd style of handwriting at the top of a folder of pages full of numbers.
"Might be something to do with money laundering, I reckon," Zach tells you with a proud smirk, the man who sends the files up. "It's a good job we caught it, right?"
"Yeah, it's really good," you respond with a grateful smile, flipping through the pages absentmindedly. Your thumb stops under a top corner, and you study it, noticing the name. E. Nashton.
"And... this is your work?" you ask him with a slightly raised brow, Zach shrugging in answer.
"Well. No. The, uh, one of the guys did some of it, but I brought it to the team's attention and all. Obviously."
"Yeah, nice work, Zach," you agree, which does the trick, and he leaves smugly, going back downstairs and saying something to a man who seems startled when Zach thumps him a couple of times on the shoulder, in a friendly sort of way. You watch in interest, wondering if it's the E. Nashton written on these papers. Clear-framed glasses are pushed up the man's nose, and curious green eyes peer from behind them, delicate strands of sandy brown hair framing his round face. The face that looks defeated and mildly frustrated by the time Zach's left.
You frown to yourself, glancing at the work that's ordered perfectly and ready to send to your boss. No one else here puts the same level of effort into their work. Zach's probably told the poor guy that he's gotten all the credit. Maybe you could talk to him? It's just a word of encouragement from a colleague, right?
As everyone finishes their projects at the end of the day, you grab your things and head downstairs, weaving your way between people pushing at doors to get home. You only just catch the man you'd seen earlier, tapping him gingerly on the shoulder. But even that seems to surprise him, and he flinches, whirling round to face you with a wide-eyed expression. His cheeks flush when his eyes take you in properly, but you don't notice, apologising awkwardly.
"Hi- oh, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's alright," he breathes, scarcely blinking, and you nod slowly at the reaction.
"Um, okay, well, I just wanted to thank you for the work that went up. It was all written really clearly, and I don't think I'll have to do much before it's sent off. It's nice to see someone putting more than the bare minimum in what they do, I guess. Kind of makes my job a bit easier, too."
Edward looks at the folder in your hands, then back up at you.
"I thought... Zach said-"
"Yeah, I know he sent it up and commissioned the work, that's... great," you say, not bothering to hide the slight tone of sarcasm, and a fond smile tugs at Edward's lips in response. "But you did it. So, thanks."
"W-well... you're most welcome," Edward says happily, almost giddily, and you smile back in amusement.
"Cool. It was nice talking to you. Edward?"
He nods quickly. "Yes, I- I'm Edward."
You reply with your name and a half-smile, Edward repeating it like it's something fascinating. You observe him for a moment; a little odd, but kind of sweet. You should have spoken to him sooner.
"See you around, then."
He seems somewhat disappointed as you take a step back, your hand lingering on the doorhandle that leads outside, but says goodbye anyway with a small smile and a watchful stare. You look away first, going off in the direction of your home, the interaction replaying in your head vaguely as you let yourself into your apartment.
Nice guy. There aren't many people like that in Gotham. Maybe you could chat again soon?
And then the thought's replaced with the next thing that nags for your attention.
...
Meanwhile, a man goes mad behind his laptop.
Square pictures are pulled up onto the screen from various social media sites, and Ed can't help but smile back at your naturally happy expressions in every one. It seemed so easy for everyone to be so happy and carefree. He wasn't everyone.
But then, neither were you.
Someone noticed him. No one ever notices him. And his boss was so quick to dismiss the scheme he had bought up, practically threatening his job for poking his nose in. Zach just likes every bit of praise he can get, and he gets far too much of it. But not this time. For once, somebody praised him. You praised him.
"You're so lovely," he whispers adoringly into the solitude of his apartment, the blue-white glare of the laptop reflecting in his glasses.
A part of Edward finds himself such a creep, so disgusting and wrong and alone, especially for stalking a pretty young workmate he'd only met half an hour ago. But no one ever spoke to him unless they had to. You didn't have to. But there you were, bright eyes and sweet words, appreciating justice as much as he does, and not letting the darker cases go like any corrupt citizen would.
He'd keep watching. He'd give it, what, a week or two? Just to be sure he wasn't mistaken, though he was almost certain he wasn't. That you really were some sort of beacon that stood out to him, company he liked at work, could fantasize clearly about at home. And then...
Then what? Blurt it out to you? Scare you off? No. Too risky. He could almost hear the pity and confusion in your voice with a rejection. E. Nashton was nearly as confident and important as he wanted to be...
...but The Riddler was.
。ₓ ू ₒ ु Taglist ू ₒ ु ₓ。
@simestandswithtaylorswift-blog @carley-carley-carley @lostbunn @dencchan @dragovegogrimborn @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @edwardspumpkinpie @murderbimbo00 @sweetums0kitty @beel-mcburger @cml-san @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @r4iner @bimboanime @phoenixgurl030 @vaylordd @dangerouslittlefairy @katjourno @yoyoanaria @yaeyuuki @vinxlsketches @beenz-beenz @ghoulsgraveyard @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @r3ptiliaaa @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowers @hxney-lemcn @confusedchildsstuff @callsigncrash @sugahbabieexo @bokksieu @skateb0red @wilburrrsworld @philiasoul @darthcringe @felicityofbakerstreet @bloodypantomime @deadlights-darling @tianotfound @mortem-muse @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell
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colorsofjun · 2 years
Text
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i made a playlist for all you dwayne/klitz/eddie/brian/calvin lovers + eli lol<3
(ALL THE LINKS ARE PINNED TO MY PROFILE!!<3)
….he’s so pretty i want to cry.
Should i make more of these playlist? Who should I do next?
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littl3-val3ntine · 2 years
Text
every breath you take (pt. 3) ❥ edward nashton
PART ONE / PART TWO
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《♡》
summary // riddler always has everything planned, from the moment his plot begins up until the day after it has happened. he expects himself to be able to expect everything, until his mind is taken elsewhere during a routine stakeout on the police response to his latest hit... now he finds himself, as well as the item of his affection, caught up in his issues and lust for vengeance.
warnings // OHJ GOD LMFAO, gn! smut (I SECTIONED IT, ITS UNNECESSARY TO THE PLOT SO FEEL FREE TO SKIP), typical creepiness that's consistent for this fic, switch!eddie, light choking and kinda voyeurism?, possessiveness, creampie whoops
author's note // hey besties... ur boy just dislocated his knee so sorry for the later update :,)) this one's good nd long though to make up for it.
part 4 will be the last part to this fic, so thank you for joining me along the ride. more 2 come! just kinda done with this one lolz
anyways do enjoy!! love u muah! ^^
《♡》
You swear you recognize this car.
It’s not like it’s all that generic, either. A little burgundy sedan, just old enough to have one whispering to themself, “Huh, what a neat car,” but not so old that it’s antique. It lives somewhere deep in your mind that you’re not quite sure of. God, it’s familiar…
You brush it off. Maybe you just remember it from the parking lot at the press office.
You glance over at the man in the driver's seat, bathed in red light from the traffic signal overhead, to find him white-knuckled around the steering wheel and staring absently ahead through the windshield. The car ride up until now has been characterized by a loaded silence, as if there's things both of you could be saying but aren't. Granted, it has only been about a minute or so since he all but sped out of the parking lot at the hospital, but even so, that's about halfway down to Grange Street, where your car is parked.
The doctor was wise to warn you not to drive. Not only are you dead tired, nearly dozing off in the passenger side of Edward's car, on top of that your mind is still foggy from the sedatives in your system. It takes you a good couple seconds to realize the stoplight before you had changed, even while you were zoned in, unconsciously, on the bright colors.
He doesn't touch the accelerator. Instead, he just gazes blankly into the road ahead, brows furrowing.
You don't have half a mind to follow his line of sight. "Edward," you whisper, "The light's green."
He seems startled by your voice. "Oh, yeah. Sorry."
The engine hums back to life and the car rolls through the intersection, only to slow to a halt a few meters later upon reaching a police road block. So that's what he was staring at.
"I-I think I know another way around—"
He moves his grasp to the gearshift, sliding it back into reverse and throwing his arm over the back of your seat to look through the rearview window. He's leaning over the console and you can feel his warmth again, his closeness bringing with it that same electricity that you missed. The weak glow of streetlights ahead paint his skin— his face, his clavicle exposed by the loose collar of his shirt, the space where his jaw meets his neck— and he looks like a sculpture, all smooth porcelain and fine detail.
You stop him with your fingers against his chest, telling him something about seeing your car up ahead and how you could just walk over to retrieve your bag and house key to save time. He doesn't necessarily realize your exact words. All he's aware of in that moment is your touch.
Edward just nods abstractedly, and then you're getting out of the car before he can even come back to his senses. He misses you immediately. Watching your every move, something heavy in his chest tugs at him and begs to reach for you. He can't let you leave. What if you get in your car and drive off? And then he'll never see you again. It's safer for you in his car.
Shaking away the thoughts rambling on in his mind, he surveys the alleyway for anything— or anyone— that might become an issue along your walk down to your car. Even upon finding nothing, he's still tempted to get out and walk with you. Just to make sure. But he doesn't.
His eyes find you again, halfway into your car and bent over the seat as you reach for your bag. Jaw falling open just slightly, his breath hitches, neck craning forward as if it'll get him a better view. Unconsciously, he commits the scene to mind; the dip of your spine as you disappear into the vehicle, how the light from the moon and the neon OPEN sign above hits the curve of your ass, the way you sit back onto your heels to stand upright. He follows your arms as you stretch them into the air, your back arching almost impossibly and head falling back against your shoulders. He can only imagine the sound you must have made when you stretched like that, the satisfied groan leaving your lips and the sigh of content as you relaxed your body again.
You must be so sore from the hit you took, and that bed at the hospital couldn't have been comfortable. The things he'd do for you, if only you'd ask him... he knows he'd treat you so well. Every aching muscle you could possibly have, he'd be willing to rub it to relief. Anything that could inconvenience you, he'd be there to eliminate it for you. He would kill for you. It wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that he already has.
Anything, if it means you’d forgive him for the way he hurt you tonight.
But before he can indulge further in his thoughts, his passenger side door swings open and you sink down into the seat, bag in your lap. You look over at him and offer a warm smile, as if to silently say, "You can start the car now, I'm ready." And somehow, he understands, as he offers back a whisper of a grin and turns the key in the ignition.
"So, uh, where are we headed?" he asks, as if he doesn't already have your address imprinted in his memory.
And none the wiser, you tell him: "Oh, I'm in the Sycamore Apartments, over on Fifth Street." He flicks his blinker on, nodding before you even finish your sentence. The silence falls over you both again, and the clicking noise fills the car.
"Thank you for driving me home, by the way. I really appreciate it," you say, desperate to break the ice. He just waves you off as if it's the most normal thing in the world. As if you two aren't basically strangers— at least, as far as you're concerned.
"It's nothing. Really, it's for my sake. Peace of mind, I guess." Though it's dim in the car, you swear you see that tiny boyish grin again. He never did smile much. When he does, even just a little, it makes something in your chest flutter. Like you're sixteen again and passing a cute guy in the hallway.
"What," you tease, your tone thick with sarcasm, "Couldn't trust me enough to make it home on my own?"
His eyes blow wide in panic. "Oh, I— No, that's not what I meant at all! I just—"
"Edward."
He looks at you, his cheeks turning dark. You can't help but to laugh. He's so easy. "I was just kidding."
"Oh," he murmurs, settling back into his seat. He raises a brow, removing one hand from the steering wheel to lean his elbow on the center console, all calm and collected like. Clearing his throat, he tells you, "No yeah, absolutely. I uh, knew that from the beginning."
You chuckle again, pulling another smile from him. "Oh did you, now?"
"Yeah. What, you don't believe me?"
"No dice, Mr. Nashton."
He exhales slowly, like a content sigh. You notice his breath hitch, almost undetectably, as you shift in your seat and lean against his forearm on the console to look out the window. He swallows audibly. "You know, you really ought to stop calling me that," he mutters, turning onto Fifth Street and slowing in front of your apartment.
"Why's that?" You turn to him. The muscles in his arm tense as your skin slides against his sleeve. "I think it's got a nice ring to it."
It makes him want to press you face-first into a wall. "It makes me feel like I'm at work."
"Hm, fair enough." Collecting your bag from your lap, you sigh. You're not ready to let the moment go, uncertain of when you'll see something like this again. You two, alone in his car...
You stop yourself before you can get too deep. What, have you got a crush on him or something?
He's looking at you as if he's got something to say, eyes dropping briefly to your lips and then to where your chest meets his forearm. Your eyes, however, don't leave his face. You're so close you can watch every thought in his mind play across his features, but somehow not close enough to distinguish what any of them mean. You're stalling...
Oh, what the hell.
"Do you maybe want to come inside for a few? I think we could both use a drink after... tonight." Maybe you aren't thinking. Or maybe you are thinking, just not with your head. Either way, the thought that illuminates his face right then is clear as day— Yes.
"Are you sure? It's late..." The way he's looking at you is begging you not to change your mind. The idea sits in the way back of your head, screaming, Don't let him inside! But you've already made your decision.
"Yeah it’s late, but I'd feel bad, you know? If you drove me all the way home and I didn't even pay you back." He thinks about it for a moment, having a debate in his own mind that lasts a good few seconds. It's not long, though, until he cuts the engine and nods.
“I’d love to, actually.” Worrying now that he sounds too forward, he adds, “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good drink.”
You grin, satisfied. Trying your best to choke down the childish excitement that bubbles up in your throat, you turn from him and pull up the lock-knob on the car door. Right as you swing your legs out the open door, there he is— looking like a phantom, tall and slender against the distinct Gotham gloom— holding out his hand to help you up.
“Well, thank you,” you chirp as he raises you into the night air. “Quite the gentleman.”
He laughs through his nose. “Hardly.”
There’s a certain danger to the way he responds. Like a warning. You don’t think too much of it as you’re gliding up the metal stairway to your front door, shaky-legged and eager to get inside, but upon looking back on it later it all made much more sense.
While you’re standing there, fumbling to get your key in the lock, your gaze drifts. And your heart catches for a moment, at the sight of it. You’re sure now, Yeah, it’s definitely a crush.
There he is, climbing the steps up to your front porch, blond hair askew and falling into his face as he’s careful not to slip. You turn back quickly, plunging the key in. The lock clicks and you disappear inside.
“It’s a bit of a mess,” you admit, hurrying to gather your coat from the back of the couch and stow away the empty takeout box on the end table. “I wasn’t really expecting anyone.”
He chuckles, something quiet and gentle, but still it rings through the small room. Shutting the door behind him, he assures you his place is worse. Your guest glances around, taking in the color of the walls and what covers them, and what’s on the tables and how you didn’t seem to know how to close a set of blinds to save your soul. Committing it all to memory. So this is how it looks from the inside. There’s that picture he always sees through the window.
“You can have a seat, if you’d like.” You brush past him as he’s looming awkwardly in the doorway. “What, uh… what do you drink?”
He trails you into the kitchenette, dropping into a chair just beside the counter. Reaching up to the cabinet above the table where he’s sat, you find yourself nearly leaning over him to get to the alcohol. He peers up at the shelves as you pry open the wooden door— it’s been a while since you’ve dug into it.
Crown Royal. Shitty vodka from your friend, a housewarming gift. Cognac you brought to a party a couple months back, and returned home with, unopened. Your collection was slim, but you assured him, “I’ve got wine in the fridge as well, if you’re interested.”
“May I have a glass of wine?”
You look down at him. And he’s gazing up at you, eyes soft. So polite. “Of course, that would have been my choice as well.”
He smiles again. He’ll remember that.
He likes this view of you. Leaning into the fridge, hunting for something, brows furrowed. There’s something domestic about it. And while he realizes it’s just a fantasy, in the moment you’re finding the wine he allows himself to slip into a world where you both are here, together, coming home from work and settling in for a drink. One where he’d make dinner and let you rest in his lap on the couch afterward. You’d fall asleep together, wake together, over again…
Clink.
The sound of glass colliding with cheap marble yanks him from his thoughts. There you are again, just inches from him, pressed against the countertop as you concentrate on pouring the wine. Careful not to spill and stain the surface. He always loved how you looked when you focused.
Once both glasses are half-full, he rises and takes one in his hand. “Thank you,” he hums, and he raises the glass to his lips for a leisurely sip. You don’t realize his eyes locked on you while you stare, his mouth forming perfectly around the rim of the glass. Catching yourself, you glance away.
“No need to thank me. It’s the least I could do.” You settle beside him, hopping up to sit on the counter while he leans his hip against its edge. Chuckling, you remind him, “The wine isn’t even that great.”
You don’t trust yourself to hold the glass, so you release it from your shaking hand to the surface beside you. “Oh, I’m not picky,” he all but whispers. “Besides, it’s not every night I get to drink with friends. I’d be stupid to complain.”
You huff out a sarcastic breath. “It’s not every night my boss is in my apartment, either.” You meet his eyes again. He’s holding you there, and he’s not even touching you. His eyes have gone stoic.
You’re pressed between him and his desk. Holding each others’ gaze, waiting to see who breaks first. Testing the waters. How far can we push it?
“I suppose I’m not complaining either, though,” you add. There’s a beat of silence as he ponders his next words, eyebrows raising as he takes another lazy sip from his glass.
“Since when am I your boss?”
You feel your cheeks warming, and finally you look away. “Well, maybe that wasn’t really the word for it, but you know what I mean. You’re definitely my superior, but I guess you’re not really my boss— that would be a little weird, actually, you don’t really seem like the boss type…”
Amidst your rambling, he mutters, “It would certainly complicate things.”
And you pause. He furrows his brows, as if he wasn’t expecting you to hear that. A hint of panic splashes across his face.
“Complicate things?” you urge him.
He shakes his head, beginning to turn away. “It’s nothing.”
“No.” You reach for him, fingers curling around the loose fabric of his sleeve. He tenses, his body stuttering for a second, but he doesn’t leave. He stays there, right where you hold him. “What did you mean?”
A doe-eyed stare falls on you again as he cranes his neck over his shoulder to look at you. And there you are. Locked in eye contact again, silently challenging one another as the room becomes pressurized. Pressing you two together until someone breaks. You feel his muscles tensing and untensing beneath your fingertips as he chooses his words.
I just want a straight-forward answer, Edward.
“It’s just a bit strange for someone’s… superior, to be in their home this late, no?”
“I thought you said you weren’t complaining.”
Your breath is speeding up. You’re sure he notices, because his is speeding up, too. He turns back to you again, this time bringing him so close to you that you feel the chill of his belt against the skin of your outer thigh through your clothes. It sets your senses alight, your entire body tingling to attention at the slightest touch. And there it is again, that hand coming down to post on the edge of the countertop beside you, keeping you tucked between him and something so suffocatingly unmovable for the second time that month. Except this time, his confidence is dormant. He’s all whispers and soft linen, his bottom lip stained red.
“I’m not,” he murmurs. Head tilted forward, even with his hair falling down into his face, his eyes still gleam in the dim light from the kitchen lamp as he looks down at you. You can almost feel his breath on your face as he continues, almost silently, breathlessly, “I told you. I would be stupid to complain.”
Your back is arching into him instinctually. The need for him is primal, unlike any way you’ve ever needed someone prior. Your eyes are resting on his lips, recalling how they pursed around the glass, curled into a gentle smile, caught between his teeth sometimes when he’d think. Wondering if you could taste the wine on his tongue. He’d make it taste so good.
His jaw hangs as he exhales a shaky breath, leaning in further to place his glass down next to yours, right behind your far hip. He doesn’t draw back his hand. His hair, stringy and soft, tickles your forehead. His entire body is close. Close enough you could almost feel his lashes against your skin as his eyelids fall slowly shut. Hesitantly, he maneuvers his hips to slink between your knees, quick to return to that sphere of closeness you both have created.
You’re hardly breathing. Feeling weightless on your perch at the counter, you brace your palm against his warm chest to keep your balance. His heart pounds mercilessly against the skin. Trailing upward, you gently brush the hair from his face.
How far could you push it?
Your lips meet. Featherlight at first, but he doesn’t last long. His hands curl around your hips, drawing you against his body as your own rest against his arms, in his hair, anywhere you can find purchase. The pain in your finger is long forgotten against the sensation of him.
It’s open mouthed, sloppy and desperate. Small noises and wandering hands. It’s nothing like he’d ever imagined it would be. In a way, that only serves to excite him further.
His lips are chapped, but they’re warm and wet nonetheless and he kisses you as if you’re fresh air and he’s been drowning. His embrace is possessive. He tugs you into himself and groans something guttural, animalistic. He’s never letting go.
His mouth moves eagerly and without expertise, small sounds escaping the back of his throat as you press further into him. His touch slides tentatively up your back, only to crash back against the marble as he collapses into the dip of your shoulder. His ministrations don’t stop, and he probes the delicate skin beside your throat with his lips and tongue. Incoherent, he’s a mess, sobbing into your body how beautiful you are, how scared he’s been, how badly he needs you.
Please, please, he needs you. He needs you so badly his entire body aches. He’ll do anything. He knows it’s wrong, and he knows he shouldn’t want this, but he’s been so hungry for you for so long and it’s all he ever thinks about when he sees you.
You pry him away from your neck, which is now raw and likely marred by his ravenous mouth, by getting a fistful of his hair and tugging. The sound that leaves him is inexcusable, whining desperately like a bitch in heat, but all is made right again when you caress his face and thumb at his swollen lips.
His pupils are blown to saucers, peering down at you unwaveringly as he looms between your legs. Knowing well he’s hanging on your every word, you ask him softly, directly, “Do you want this?”
His face contorts like he’s about to cry. He sinks into your touch, burying his face in your palm, nodding frantically. “I do. M’want it, so bad… I need…”
“What do you need, Eddie?”
He sucks in a shaky breath. Eddie. He liked that. “You. You, you… I want to feel you, I’ve been thinking about you so long…”
You figure he could tell you about that later. For now, you guide his face back to your lips again, and whisper against his mouth.
“Have me.”
X X X
For being long and lean, he’s stronger than you expected. He sweeps you from the countertop with ease and hauls you off down the hall, hands planted firmly underneath your thighs to hold you tight against him.
You don’t remember telling him where your bedroom was. Once you lock your legs around his back and feel his hips— and something else— grinding right into where you need him, though, you can’t really bring yourself to mind.
Edward turns to nudge open the door with his shoulder, and he doesn’t even bother closing it. He’s too preoccupied with bracing his forearm against your back and laying you gently against your blankets, letting you down so easy he must have thought you’d break at the slightest touch. His body doesn’t separate from you. All of his weight is on top of you, around you, firmly against you. Your legs still curl snugly around him, with his face in your chest and his hands drifting up your thighs.
His hips are already rutting into you, restricted by the clothes that still, to his dismay, divide your bodies. The incessant throbbing between his legs tells him that he would have been perfectly content, had you told him to, to grind against you like a puppy until he got off, but once you tug at the back of his shirt collar he’s just as eager to be free of it.
He fumbles with the buttons on the sleeves, whimpering in frustration when they don’t come undone. “Here,” you prod. You take them between your fingers to help him, to guide him. Like Edward, they come undone quickly beneath your skilled touch.
Not even bothering with the buttons along the front, he yanks it over his head and discards it somewhere off the bedside. You glance in its general direction, but instead you’re greeted by the city staring back at you through the wide-open window.
“Edward,” you push at his shoulder, but he’s engulfed in kissing at your neck again. The most you get is a distracted hum. Squirming, you tell him, “We gotta close the window—“
“No.” He posts up on his elbows to get a look at your face, and his eyes are wild as they land on you. A surge of ferocity rips through him, uncharacteristic compared to how he was writhing against you not moments ago. “I don’t give a fuck who sees. Hell, they can watch. So they’ll all know.”
Let them all watch him as he makes you his. As he drives his dick so deep into you that he can be certain no one else will ever fill you so well again. And when you inevitably wake up tomorrow and dress for work, and try your best to cover his marks and bruises all over your neck with makeup or jewelry, let them peek out in the spots you missed and remind everyone in the office you’re not to be touched. Not to be looked at. Not even to occupy space in another’s mind.
His.
He’s back on you in an instant, tugging on your belt and then sliding down your body to rid you of your bottoms. His breath, hot and heavy, cascades against your inner thigh as he rests his face against it. Eyes closed, he nips at the supple flesh with his open mouth. The warm hand returns to busy itself with squeezing at your opposite leg.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, trying to draw him closer to where you need him. You lift your hips so he can remove your underwear. He dips his head between your thighs, mind going foggy as he takes you in.
A soft mouth accepts you without prompt. His tongue moves against you eagerly, lapping at the nectar that drips from your heat. Your head falls back against the pillows, losing yourself in the wet euphoria he gives you and the muffled noises he makes as he all but suffocates on you.
He doesn’t need to breathe. He’d never been so hungry— never had something so sweet ever graced his tongue. If he choked there, in between your thighs, he’s sure he’d have spent his afterlife bragging.
He lifts his head with a greedy inhale, filling his lungs as he was just starting to get lightheaded. Spit, among other things, coats his lips and the corners of his mouth, and his hair is disheveled from your pawing at it. The smile on his face is unlike any you’ve seen before— something adjacent to deranged. Manic. He’s just getting started.
“I’ve spent so long wondering how you taste,” he whines, rising into all fours to return to his place on top of you. He sits back on his haunches right between your spread legs, the dusting of blond hair on his chest catching the moonlight as his muscles move beneath the skin. The darkness of the room beyond him frames his body, but he seems to glow above you, humming with energy, while he undoes his belt.
His words finally register in your head. “You have?” you affirm weakly, finding it hard to breathe. The smile only widens, tongue pressing insolently against his bottom teeth.
“I have.”
Slipping out of his trousers and briefs, he leans over you again, pressing his nose into your temple. “You’re better than I could have ever imagined," he whispers, taking the hem of your shirt between his fingers. You get the hint. “I don’t know how I’ve possibly kept myself away this long.”
A shuttering groan escapes from deep within his throat just at the sight of you. Now completely bare, you let the shirt fall from your fingers, raising your arms above your head to toss it to the floor. His hands follow, pinning your wrists.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to again.”
You feel it. Warm and thick, pressing into your thigh. His head drops to the crook of your neck. By instinct, you let your legs drift further apart, all but inviting him inside.
He moves his hips at an excruciating pace, sliding his dick slowly against your skin, so close to where you need him. Every so often, he loses control, his hips bucking forward despite his best efforts. You squirm beneath him, mumbling desperately, dumb from arousal— “Please, Eddie”— but he doesn’t relent. His grip around your wrist only tightens.
“Say it. I need to hear you say it.” Holding you down with one hand, he hooks the other under your knee to poise his dick right against your hole. Barely breaking the surface.
Your mind is reeling. “Please!”
“As nice as you sound when you beg,” he quips, panting, “I want you to tell me you’re mine. I need… I need to hear it. Need to.” His fingers dig into your thigh. “Say it. Who do you belong to?”
What little composure he had before is long lost. His entire body trembles above you, like a live wire about to erupt into flames. His cock jumps against your skin, aching to be inside.
“You—!” Your breath is cut short. The stretch that burns between your legs makes your entire body feel limp, giving itself to his touch as he shapes you around his dick.
“Oh my god,” he breathes. Only making it halfway inside before you clench around him, he slides back out to the tip. He releases your wrists, setting you free to let your hands roam again, and slides his arms around your waist as he holds you down onto his cock. Teeth scrape against your throat, weakly resisting the urge to bite down.
His thrusts soon become erratic and quick, reaching deeper inside of you than you ever thought possible and breeding you like a rabbit. Whining, babbling incoherently, gazing at you thoughtlessly, his eyes are lidded— Mine, mine, mine.
“Feels so fucking… oh god, so tight…”
Your fingers tangle into his hair, holding on for any essence of control. Tightening your grip into a fist, you feel his jaw fall open in a silent scream. The mewl that escapes him is pathetic. He likes that. He loves that.
"That feel good, Eddie?" It leaves your lips like honey. He nods fervently into your neck, abandoning the air of dominance he'd played with earlier. The warm body above you, inside you, melts into your touch, offering himself to you. Begging you to take him.
And you do.
It comes naturally, telling him how good he feels, how good he is for you, good, good, good. The bruising rhythm of his hips falters as he loses himself in your praise, mumbling things you couldn't understand and heating the skin of your bare chest with his breath.
You give him another tug. He yelps, his dick stilling within you while you hold his head up to face you by his hair. Glossy eyed, you swear there's tears sliding down his cheeks. Pathetic.
"What happened, baby?" You clench around him, just to hear him squeal. He does. "Not so big and strong anymore, huh? What happened to all that confidence?"
His face twists, and a small sob wracks his frame. He goes to return his face to the crook of your neck, but he's stopped by another yank to his hair.
"Ah—!"
"Use your words, honey. Why are you crying?" A tinge of worry invades your question, but something in you screams in delight at the way you've broken him. At just how easy it was.
There's so much he could say. How he never believed he'd get this far. He could tell you just how many nights he'd spent, dick deep in his fist, thinking about this, and how he can't even contain himself now that it's finally happening. How he's waiting to wake up from this cruel dream to an inevitable wet spot of cum on his mattress, as he has done frequently in the past. The way he needs you right now, to fill you and let you claim him, to hear you decide he's worthy of even the littlest passing thought. To beg you to use him if it means he can take up space in your mind. He wants to sink into the softness of your skin and let you hold him there. How the second he felt you squeezing his dick, he vowed never to leave your bedsheets— he'd stay there, in your bed, waiting for you all day until you return home so he can lay in your arms again like a lapdog. He'd let you whore him out for your own pleasure. Reduce himself for a warm body for you to use if it means he got to be yours.
He can’t bring himself to say it. Instead, he opts for a weak whimper as he tells you, "Need you..."
It wasn't a lie. In this moment, you're the oxygen he breathes— the only thing registering in his mind is how your body moves against his. Committing it to memory for when he inevitably has to let you go. Once you wake up tomorrow and realize who you've taken to bed. The way you'll look at him—or not look at him, even worse— in the days to come. The crushing reality that he will have to return to his spot across the street and observe you from your window again, teased by the events of tonight and the remnants of your touch on his skin.
But you're facing him now, picking apart his expression with eyes unwavering, glowing with adoration. Fully aware and generally sober, you know it's Edward Nashton.
You see him.
He's pulled back to reality by the breathiness of your voice, whispering to him, Oh, come here, baby. The voice from his dreams calling to him again.
Without hesitance, he collapses back into you. His hands squeeze your hips, anchoring you to him as his hips pick up in speed.
His dick slides against your walls with ease, and you feel him twitching inside of you. You caress his back, coaxing him toward his release, chasing your own. He moans softly, mindlessly, " 'm gonna cum..."
The weight of his body lifts away from you, just barely enough to make space for his fingers to snake between your bodies and stroke you. "Cum with me," he begs, "Please, I wanna... wanna make you feel good."
Feeling the coil deep in your belly, you dig your nails into his shoulderblades and buck your hips into his touch. It doesn't take long, between his mewling in your ear and the heat of his fingers against the sensitive skin between your legs, until you're almost there, clinging to him and clenching unwillingly around his cock.
"Eddie, I'm close—"
"Please cum, please, please... oh, my god, I wanna— I wanna see you." He posts on his elbow so his face hovers above yours, your breath mingling with his and making you dizzy.
You bring your trembling palm against his cheek. He watches your eyes roll back into your skull as your release washes over you, your entire body jolting with the force of it. The low groan that leaves you sends him toppling over his own edge, burying himself deep within you and spilling himself into your body. He lets his forehead fall against yours, a thin veil of sweat dampening his skin. The room fades into a half-awake sort of silence as each of you breathe each other's air, recovering.
When you open your eyes again after a long moment of basking in his closeness, and your own fullness, you find him already gazing down at you. The look in his eyes isn't any different from ones you've received in the past, but this time, it makes sense.
Desire. Unadulterated need. Infatuation.
Reverence.
With the hand on his cheek, you guide his lips down to yours. The kiss is nothing like your first of the evening. It's slow, languid, offering you both time to truly taste one another. To become one entity, joined at the mouth, for a brief time until you both come up for air and he collapses against the mattress beside you.
The moonlight plays on his features, sending shadows that frame his face like he’s Renaissance art. Suddenly he's bashful again, toying with your fingers as he asks you, "Should I let you get to sleep?"
You intertwine your hand with his.
"Stay."
《♡》
PART FOUR SOON
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dano-locket · 1 year
Text
How To Disappear Completely / Chapter One
AO3 Link
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Pairing: Dano!Edward Nashton / GN!Reader
Word Count: 1,902
Summary:
He was so tender. Impossibly soft behind heavy coats and starched linen and a demeanor that said matter-of-factly, “I’m not really here right now.” Wherever he was, you’d meet him.
There's something inside that tired man, and you need to see what he can do.
--
A/N: my very first fic!!! this takes place after riddler: year one issue one. eddie is investigating and you are a public records clerk. i’m thinking this fic will be three or four chapters but if issue two of year one makes me as primal as issue one did, i'll def be adding on. sfw (for now!)
Chapter One
Let Me See
You hadn’t felt a thrill like this in years. And if you didn’t feel your own capacity for desire nestled deep behind your stomach, you’d have bet you never would again. But you did feel it. An aching something that cramped and contracted and kept you alive.
Edward.
That was his name; you’d double-checked his initial email. He found you. He had scrolled the staff directory for the Library of Gotham’s public records department, found your name, your email, your photo—frizzy hair, blank eyes, dull skin—and decided on you. Selected you to help him.
You shook yourself out of that daydream. It was a silly line of thinking; you knew you were his only choice. The library was consistently understaffed, leaving you alone most evenings in the basement-floor records office, dead silent and cold with the lack of light. You hadn’t spoken aloud for three days when he came in.
He’d needed all sorts of documents: LLC licenses, court transcripts, property records. You’d had a week to gather materials and he had two to read over them all. You didn’t have much time.
It surprised you how instantly drawn you were to him. Not because he wasn’t cute, of course. Ohmygod you thought he was cute. It was just typically that the closer you looked, at people, at places, at yourself, the more you found to disgust at, to fear. You hadn’t meant to be this way. You didn’t understand why others weren’t. 
His email had been cold, curt. You’d expected a man twice his age, and when you stood up behind your desk to greet him, you were taken aback back by how youthful he looked, rounded and rosy. His shy, gracious smile as you debriefed him on the documents had intrigued you and your attraction solidified as he turned his back to you, dragged all eight chairs to the corner of the small work space, pushed the two wooden tables together, and neatly spread out each sheet of paper, all without asking. 
You didn’t mind. You were content to watch him work. 
And the more you watched, the more you discovered. There was something about him, an unidentifiable bubbling that made your stomach sink and rise then sink again. Like there was something under his skin so different from the meek man who struggled to look you in the eye as he introduced himself. He was straining. It entranced you.
There was so much tension inside him. He shook with it sometimes; tensing his shoulders and jerking his legs and shuddering from a phantom chill when he thought no one would notice. Though that last part could be wishful thinking. You treasured the idea that you saw him uninhibited; deep in his work and unafraid to forget your existence. He was so intentional in his speech, rehearsed almost. You longed to open him up. 
You could tell something was wrong, that he wasn’t happy with whatever he’d discovered in the past two days. Every so often he had let out little scoffs of frustration and buried his face in his hands. He drew his eyebrows down tightly. Took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His exhaustion filled the room. 
When he came in today he seemed more weathered than before. It was clear he wasn’t sleeping well. He was even more distant with you–only offering a tight smile of acknowledgement as he first approached your desk and a nod of thanks as you passed him the same six boxes. Whoever opened had pushed the tables and chairs back to their rightful places, and instead of setting up shop, Edward slumped down at the left hand table in the chair facing you, already looking defeated.
He’d been flipping through a stack of estate deeds, chin tucked to his chest, when he froze entirely. Slowly he set the papers down and lifted his head, glancing over the boxes of papers as if looking for an answer. His chest started to heave and you found yourself matching his breath. His eyes darted up at you, wide and pink, and only then did you wrench your gaze away from him and onto the decade-old desktop computer in front of you. In your peripheral, you saw his head still fixed toward you but you didn’t dare look up.
You watched the time move. Two minutes he sat completely still, looking straight ahead. You started to sweat. On minute three he dropped his shoulders, exhaling loudly enough that you could hear a slight nose whistle ring across the room, and began cleaning up his workspace. Without a word, he rose and collected his things, then stilled behind the table. You took a deep breath before raising to meet his eye, but by the time you finished turning, his head was down as he hurriedly crossed the room. You didn’t miss the forceful way he shoved the door open, harder than needed.
You turned back to the computer, checking the time. Fourteen minutes until close. God, you wanted to follow him out. You had no idea what you’d say to him but you’d do anything to watch. What was he doing now he was out of sight? You wondered what he was like completely alone. 
What would you say to him? That was a question you needed to answer if you ever wanted… whatever it was you wanted with him. Maybe that was the better question, but both required more research. Gotham was a dense city but it was contained. He must live close by. 
– –
Gotham shimmered at night. Buzzing neon lights bounced off the puddles of rain water and oil that coated the perpetually slick pavement. It could almost be beautiful. Until you looked closer. Gotham had a way of dazzling people, like a predator puffing up before it makes its kill. You lived in this dying city all your life, though. You knew its dark corners, knew to run from danger. But the city preferred to hide in plain sight, patting your forehead and stealing your purse. It was difficult to navigate, confusing. You were never safe. The constant vigilance was enough to give anyone trust issues. You were afraid. Would Edward understand?
You couldn’t let yourself get distracted though, only sparing quick glances down to ensure your shoes stay dry. You had to keep your head up. 
The street parking by the library was abysmal, constantly packed with the only few spots restricted to two hours. Edward had been there for three. He couldn’t have gotten far on foot. You recoiled at that thought but didn’t refute it. You needed to see him. A cord had been cut that night and suddenly your body felt so cold, singular, as if you could no longer sustain it on your own. You didn’t want to be alone anymore.
You felt delirious chasing after a man who seemed to want nothing to do with you, animalistic, as if you yourself were peeling away down to instinct and want. You couldn’t believe what he’d done to you. And in such a short time. You’d been alone for so long. You knew what he felt. You thought you did. You knew. You felt it roll off him in waves, the barely concealed, consuming discomfort that infected his every move. He seemed so sad. You wanted to help.
When your aimless wandering hit the half hour mark, you called it a night. Your last stop before home would be to your favorite corner store to pick up tonight’s dinner: a microwaveable pasta packet and a bag of hot cheetos. You were browsing the energy drinks, searching for the best deal, when you felt him looming. His dragging footsteps had become quickly recognizable and he carried with him the faint smell of city air and bar soap. 
“Um.”
Edward. You were right. You couldn’t help your wide smile as you turned to him. You hoped you looked pretty. You felt wolfish. 
“Hey!” Your voice squeaked. 
Edward’s eyes were wide as he looked down at you, flickering across your face like he was reading. “Hi,” he squeaked back. “So! Do you live around here?”
No pleasantries. He hadn’t asked how you were doing. You didn’t care. Not when a sweet flush was spreading slow across his full cheeks and clammy forehead. “A few blocks over, yeah. You?”
“Yeah, yeah. Yeah! Uh, just further down the street.” He pointed animatedly, knocking his glasses askew. He settled them straight on the curve of his nose then let his hand hover, fidgeting with the clear frames, taking every opportunity to hide his face. He kept his eyes on the ground as he spoke. “If could– If– I could walk you home, if you wanted. It’s not safe around here, and it’s cold tonight…so…” 
Your head swirled. You had to make sure you weren’t swaying in place. Oh god oh god yes. You were struck by his directness, pleased. Was he always like this?
“Yes!” Too eager. He didn’t seem to mind though, giving you the first real smile you’d seen from him. He was so tender. Impossibly soft behind heavy coats and starched linen and a demeanor that said matter-of-factly, “I’m not really here right now.” Wherever he was, you’d meet him. 
The walk to your place was mostly silent. You kept close to Edward’s side and he kept his hands in his pockets. He’d offered you his coat several times and while you longed to wrap yourself up in his scent, his warmth, his belongings, you couldn’t ask that of him. Gotham Novembers bit hard and you wouldn’t let him suffer like that. Oh you just wanted to cradle him. There was something so painfully vulnerable about him, an earnesty laid so bare you felt the need to look away to give him his privacy. It made you stare longer. He was struggling. Barely held together. You knew how he felt. 
“This is me.” You broke the silence as the two of you approached the tall, brick walk-up. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me. You knew he wouldn’t. But his presence made you feel hopeful, lighter. You wanted him to. 
“I’m glad you walked me home, Edward. I hope I see you more. Outside the library.” You were just saying anything now, desperate to validate him.  
“Oh! Me too. I’m glad.” Again, his little smile. Private and slight and cartoonishly round like a doodled little smiley face. He looked so unburdened then, free of the heaviness he carried with him, if only for a minute.
You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t want this to end. 
“Goodnight.” He ended it for you, giving you a parting nod but making no move to leave.
“Goodnight, Edward.” You had to stop saying his name before he started to find it unnerving. You just wanted him to know you knew it. You looked over your shoulder as you stopped at the door to dig your keys out. You hoped he’d remember that, think about it later. 
Inside your cluttered apartment, you let out a squeal, throaty and giddy. You hurried to the window to watch him walk away. 
Instead he stood still right where you left him, looking up at your window. Waiting for a light to turn on, your brain supplied. A chill went up your spine. How romantic to know he was looking back.
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pillsarchive · 1 year
Text
Being with Edward on thanksgiving!
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Since you aren't living together (yet) he expects you to be gone for the holidays.
He sees you standing in his doorway, nose red from the cold outside, trying to balance like six different containers of food in your arms and he almost cries right there.
"Angel? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be..... with friends? Family? Its thanksgiving."
"Eddie, you are my family. I usually have thanksgiving dinner with my parents on saturday since the roads are less crowded and I can get out of the city easier. Since you hadn't told me about going to see anyone and you uh....... dont really have a tendency to make yourself food with nutritional value - i figured I'd surprise you."
The true gravity of having someone with him on the holidays for the first time in his life doesnt hit him until you start preparing more food.
He thought that the things you brought in the tupperware containers, pie, cookies, stuffing, bread rolls, was all he was getting - not a chance.
You show up early in the morning and spend nearly all afternoon baking more. Thankfully, he didn't stay up too late streaming he isn't in his "office", so you can actually use the stove without setting anything on fire.
You make a small turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, sweet potatos covered in marshmallow, all the classics.
If he wants to help in the kitchen, you let him. He mostly sticks to stuff that's not to hard to cook (he's terrified of messing up).
After you two are done and the table is all set, you realize he's sobbing quietly and trying not to let you notice.
"Hey, honey, what's wrong?" You give him a giant ass hug to try and calm him down, this just makes him cry more.
"I just - I've just never had anyone do something this nice for me. I didn't think you'd show up at all, you're so - god, you're so special."
You spend the rest of the meal sat on the living room floor watching movies (after trying to eat at the table for a while, you both agreed that having a meal in silence with another person was a sensory hell and moved to the floor) and tangling your feet together under the big fluffy blanket over top of both of you.
The night ends with both of you cuddling on the couch, he falls asleep first and you can see that it's peaceful, no nightmares. He almost looks like he's smiling.
In the morning, you ask him if he'd like to come with you to your parents house for another dinner.
Little guy looks shocked - like someone just slapped him in the face.
"You want me to meet your parents? "
"Course, Edward. We are soulmates -" You giggle a little as you say it - he always calls you two "meant to be" - and kiss him.
When you pull away he's beaming.
"Of course! I'd love to!"
As you're cleaning up the plates and doing the dishes from last night, you catch him staring at you. He turns away quickly, blushing, and you smile at him. As he goes back to wiping down the table you can hear him whispering to himself.
"My angel."
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writingsofmax · 2 years
Text
Disarm pt. 11
Words: 4.5k
Summary: Edward and Y/N deal with the aftermath of Halloween night in their own seperate ways
Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, chronically ill reader, anti-social Edward, obsessive thinking, classic riddler meltdown
warnings: mental deterioration, depictions of mental health issues/ breakdown, manic episode, depictions of illness, depression author note: i continue to be sorry
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Chapter 11- Destroy The Mind, Destroy The Body
Edward heard the door slam, he knew Y/N was gone. He grabbed the bottom of his desk and flipped it, everything falling to the floor. Pens and pencils clattered everywhere. He screamed, kicking at his ledgers on the ground.
He wanted to destroy everything, he wanted it all gone. He tore at his walls, shredding at the paper, pulling everything down in a blind rage. “We were going to have EVERYTHING” he shouted to no one in particular, “I HAD IT ALL PLANNED OUT!” he screamed.  “We were going to leave Gotham and be SAFE,” he picked up an ink bottle and hurled it at the wall, watching as it shattered into pieces, leaving a huge black stain. A fitting representation of how he felt.  “We were going to watch the whole thing together!” He stood there in the wreckage of his apartment, his breathing ragged.  She’s going to turn me in. She thinks I’m wrong, that I’m ‘evil’. He laughed, a bitter and angry sound. I did this for her and she calls me evil?
“How could I have been so stupid!” He kicked his chair and it toppled over, lying on the ground with everything else.  Edward grabbed handfuls of his hair, smashing his fists into his skull. “So stupid, so stupid.” he murmured to himself, “We were gonna have EVERYTHING!” 
Y/N had flinched away from him when he reached for her. He couldn’t get it out of his mind. Her face had been filled with fear, real fear. 
Like the first night he had met her.  Afraid of me? He thought, Afraid of me?!
“How could she think that? How could she, how could she, how could she-” he ranted, repeating the phrase over and over again until the words became unintelligible.  He sank to the floor, moaning, his face wet, covered in snot and tears. How did this all go so wrong? 
He had been abandoned again. Y/N was just another person who didn’t understand him. 
“If she wants– If she wants to be afraid of me, then fine.” He reasoned with himself, “That means I’ll never have to see her again.” His heart ached in his chest and his tears betrayed his words. “Stop. Stop crying.” He demanded, hands over his face. “Stop,” he pleaded with himself, but the tears wouldn’t stop. His whole body ached with pain. The grief of Y/N’s rejection was too overwhelming. He curled up into a ball in the corner of his destroyed apartment, and wailed, his body wracked with sobs. He stayed like that for what must have been hours, the sky outside changing from black to a deep blue as he willed himself to stop crying.  He sniffled, looking out at the brightening sky.
His tears had finally stopped. He glared menacingly at the start of a new day.  “I don’t need her.” he announced, picking himself off the floor. He looked out of his window over Gotham, “I don’t need her,” he repeated, wiping his face with his sleeve, his eyes red and puffy. She would turn him in today. He needed to leave this apartment. I don’t need her, I don’t need her. He repeated to himself internally, like a mantra. He would throw himself into this plan with or without her. 
He opened his closet and yanked the duffel bag he kept for her out, dumping its contents onto the floor. He tore through his apartment, frantically shoving papers, his laptop, his gun, and other items into the bag. If he kept busy with the plan, he wouldn’t have to think of her. If he kept busy with the plan, he wouldn’t have to be in pain. He wouldn’t give himself time to even think about anything to do with her. He had things to do. —------------------------------------------------------------- Y/N lay on the couch, watching the television screen.
It had been four days and she hadn’t heard anything else from Edward. Not a text, not a phone call, and certainly not a visit. At first, she had really believed that he would come for her, that he would explain. She waited for any sign that he still cared about her, but no. She had been tossed aside. 
“You’re not smart, you’re only good for a mediocre fuck.” His words taunted her cruelly. She knew she wasn’t smart, maybe that’s why he hadn’t told her.
And the second thing, well, that made her want to die. 
She had feared their entire relationship that she wasn’t good enough for him, and it had been proven. She wasn’t. She hadn’t been good at sex. She hadn’t seen that he needed help, she hadn’t noticed the signs. 
She hadn’t stopped any of this from happening. 
She had failed him. Over the last four days she had alternated between numbness and waves of unbearable pain ripping through her. She had cried more than she thought a human being could cry. 
She had thought about turning him in, but those thoughts brought even more anguish. She couldn’t reconcile the Edward she had known and the Edward she had met on Halloween night in her mind. She just couldn’t bring herself to believe that he would actually flood Gotham.  
He won’t. A part of her had to believe that. She was watching the news. Every time he killed someone, it was broadcasted. She didn’t know why she was watching. To punish herself, she supposed. 
How did you not see the signs? His distance over the last week, the times she had found him dazed, ink all over him. The rants he would go on, eyes wild, hair messy. She winced. Thinking of Edward’s beautiful face felt like a knife in her stomach.
He hated her. He wasn’t coming back. And that’s why she was watching the news so obsessively. 
Just for the chance to see him again. And she had seen him again. 
The news station was playing his videos 24/7, it seemed. So it was almost like he was still there with her. Almost. There were two new videos now, one when he had killed the Commissioner and a second one when he had killed Coulson. He had killed them both so violently. It was all so shocking that she felt numb, only feeling pain when she saw that he had built a dedicated following around himself. 
That he had told other people about what he was doing, just not her. Edward would—No, the Riddler would appear on screen and she wouldn’t be able to breathe. Tears leaking out of her eyes that already burned from crying so much already. 
She would watch, her heart in pieces, staring at the glasses she had used to take off of him and set on the nightstand. Watching him rant and gesticulate wildly with the hands that had used to hold her so gently. So far, he had only been taking out crooked cops and corrupt members of the justice system. She knew it was wrong but sometimes she found herself relieved that he appeared to have some sort of moral code. Until he floods the city, she reminded herself. She was a mess of conflicting feelings. She knew murder was wrong, but the people Edward was killing were terrible people. And honestly, wouldn’t it do some good to strike fear into other officials that wanted to abuse their power? She genuinely felt that the city would be better off without the people that he had disposed of. But then again, he had also disposed of her. And still. It was murder. 
It hurt so much to see him and that’s why she watched. She wanted to hurt. She wanted to be beaten into the ground and never get back up again. She stood to go to the bathroom, and felt woozy. She hadn’t taken any of her medications since the incident. She sucked in a sharp breath, the memory of that night causing her to wrap her hands around her chest tightly, trying to control the pain. 
She never picked her overnight bag off of the floor, she had just ran. It was still at—She winced, unable to think about Edward’s apartment. Her head was fuzzy, pain throbbing through her temples. Nausea ripped through her. She realized dully that she hadn’t eaten since that night either, as she made it past her kitchen. Oh well. 
The withdrawal symptoms of going off her medication so suddenly had made it impossible to eat. That and the loss of the love of my life, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, the thought of him tugging at the hole in her chest. He had been… She felt her lower lip tremble just thinking of it. He had been her person. And now he’s gone. She felt hot tears track down her face, her throat raw and painful as sobs escaped her. And he thought that she didn’t love him. She would never be able to remedy that now. Her heart pounded in her chest at the exertion of walking and her legs shook.
Everything hurt.
She reached out to steady herself on the wall, unable to keep her balance. Everything felt like it was spinning. Misjudging the distance she slid to the floor. The floor was cool against her cheek. It felt good. 
How funny, she thought. Her apartment was so cold– she could still see her breath but she felt so hot. She stretched out on the cold floor, sinking into it. Maybe he will flood the city. She thought. She found herself hoping that he would. When the flood comes, I hope it takes me under too. She closed her eyes. That would be nice. It would be peaceful. —----------------------------------------------------------- Edward had expected to be turned in. From the moment that Y/N had left his apartment he waited for the sound of sirens. He waited for the police to come and break down his door but they never came. He had been staking out his apartment by hacking into neighboring businesses CC TV signals from a secure location. Some seedy motel he had checked out under a false name with cash. He had only dared to return during the early hours of the morning to grab things he needed for his plans but now he could see that the precaution hadn’t been necessary. So she didn’t turn me in, he mused, editing his latest video. That has to mean something. He thought, picking her ledger out of his bag. He didn’t remember packing it. With a shake of his head he angrily banished that thought from his mind. He had been rejected again. Y/N was just another in the long list of people in his life that had let him down. 
Edward threw her ledger away from him with force, watching as it hit the wall across from him with a loud thud. His lower lip trembled and he bit the inside of his cheek, to keep the tears from coming. It doesn’t mean anything. She just doesn’t want to be implicated. He thought, focusing once again on his laptop. She wasn’t like his followers. They understood him, truly cared for him. Saw his plan for what it was. Saw him for what he was. 
She was afraid of me, Edward thought bitterly.  She thought that I would hurt her. If she thought that then she didn’t know me at all. She NEVER knew me. 
He wasn’t evil, he was justice. He had been watching social media sites as well and most of Gotham wasn’t even saddened that he had killed the Mayor, the Commissioner, and Coulson. A lot of people online had been relieved when these scumbags died. Everyone knew that this city needed a change. It was just her that was against him. He thought about killing the Commissioner and Coulson. They hadn’t felt the same as when he had killed the Mayor. Back when he had thought that she would be proud of him. 
The Commissioner’s death he could barely remember, that one he committed in a haze of pain and rage. With Coulson, he had calmed down a bit, and had thoroughly enjoyed making him suffer in front of everyone. That slimy little pig. 
Sure, both killings had made him feel good for a while. After each one, he had been filled with adrenaline, basking in the glory of his own righteous anger. His divine judgement. He had chased those highs for as long as he could. 
Of course, his followers had approved, but it still didn’t wholly satisfy him.
He wanted to save Gotham, but more than that, he had wanted to save Gotham for Y/N. Change it for her. As much as he forced himself to push past it, he couldn’t help but feel like his actions were meaningless without her. And really, what would flooding the city accomplish? Renewal. It would cleanse everything. The city would start completely fresh. Edward answered himself in his head, smiling.
He worked on his riddler website for a couple hours before he felt unsure again. Maybe she was right, there were people that didn’t deserve to die, that would. The ends justify the means. He reasoned, resuming his work. He was distracted though, the image of her face as he had screamed at her came to his mind, and he felt a twinge of guilt. No. He cut that train of thought off immediately. He had let her in, he had loved her, and she rejected him. There was nothing for him to feel bad about. And even if his plans were going a little too far, Which they aren’t, he reminded himself, she would never understand. He couldn’t just let this go. It was his whole life. He needed retribution for his suffering, otherwise what was the point? Shutting his laptop, too agitated to focus, he thought about his apartment. He still needed to go back and collect more things, maybe clean it after his little.. Outburst. He felt uneasy when he thought about that night. He bit his cheek again, this time not stopping until he tasted blood and focused on the sting, forcing himself not to think about it. He was already thinking about her too much and he couldn’t have that. 
Soon all of his papers and all of his things would be back in place, in perfect order. Everything will be under control. Until then, he would work on his website and streams. He would work on designing more traps and more bombs. He would look over his plans for the retention wall again. Make sure that the vans were all perfectly placed, he thought, Y/N thankfully gone from his mind once more. —--------------------------------------------------------- Edward hadn’t gone this long without seeing Y/N in months, he realized, feeling a familiar ache in his chest. The streets were quiet at this time of night, he was driving again. Whenever there was a lull in his plans, when he ran out of things to do, he would just go for a drive. 
He could not let himself rest. He would not let himself stop. Looking down at his hands he noticed for the first time that his fingers were covered in ink and some of them were bleeding. Hm. He hadn’t noticed before, because they didn’t hurt. He looked back at the road. That had probably happened while he was working on making more bomb mechanisms. He grinned, he had spent hours on Coulson’s. Sad that it had to be destroyed in an instant. Oh well, it was all for a good cause. However, he was running out of supplies to make them. They were back at his apartment. He supposed it was safe to go back now. Since she– No. He carefully tiptoed around that place in his mind. Didn’t need to think about it. Anyway, he would go back and work from there. —------------------------------ Edward awoke confused and disoriented. He blinked his eyes slowly, adjusting to the harsh light. Oh. He was still in his car. He could feel a kink in his neck from sleeping in such cramped conditions. Thankfully his car was parked. He had made it to his apartment complex. He vaguely remembered deciding to go there the night before. He didn’t remember driving here or falling asleep though, he noted with concern. He realized that he couldn’t actually remember the last time he slept at all. With a groan, he extricated himself from his vehicle. What was he here to do again? Clean my apartment…? No.. It was.. For some reason Edward’s mind wasn’t as fast as it normally was. It was.. I was going to… As he walked up the steps to his building, he finally remembered. I was here to make more bomb mechanisms! My supplies are here.  Walking up to his apartment he felt unease growing in his stomach. He unlocked the door and was met with his apartment exactly how he had left it. A giant mess. He thought about resting. Just going to his bed and sleeping. The bed where he and Y/N had—No. No resting. He needed to clean. He obviously couldn’t work in this mess. He surveyed the apartment wondering where to start. Probably all of the broken glass on the floor. He had a flash of remembrance, pushing everything off of the table, vials shattering, chemicals going everywhere. The chemicals he needed to work with. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance at his past self. Okay, you need gloves, a bucket, a….a sponge or…… something to clean with, Edward struggled to run through a mental list in his mind, trying to stop the memories of that night from coming up. Going to his kitchen to grab the items, he remembered how he and Y/N had made meals in there together. Ugh no– stop. Just. His heart hurt being here. Just push through it. He rolled his eyes at his own sentimentality while slowly picking up the glass from his floor. He hated the absolute heartache he felt. How much he found himself missing her. It was easier to be angry. While he was in this place, even keeping busy wasn’t helping. Maybe he would sleep instead, just a little, he thought while stumbling over to his couch. Just a little.. —--------------------------- Edward’s sleep was filled with dark and turbulent dreams. He was at the orphanage, watching a tidal wave approach, helpless to stop it. As it got closer he could see small hands reaching up towards him through dark water. Right before the tidal wave crashed over him, he could hear someone calling his name but he couldn’t find the source of it. He was alone in a dark room now, floating in a black sea. Rats were swimming through the water, swarming him.
The commissioner drifted towards him, floating in the water, face down.  He reached out to flip his body over and screamed when Y/N’s lifeless eyes gazed back at him. Edward woke with a start, his heart pounding.  He looked around wildly, disoriented and afraid. He relaxed back into the couch, exhaling loudly when he realized that he was safe, in his own apartment. He focused on slowing his breathing, calming himself down. How long have I been asleep? He wondered. By the light in his apartment, he figured it was late afternoon. He felt his stomach twist in pain and growl loudly. He was so hungry. Getting up, he staggered to the bathroom. He looked like shit. His hair was a mess, and dark purple shadows ringed his eyes. He had streaks of ink, and grease on his face. He looked down. And all over my hands and body as well it seems. He couldn’t go to the diner like this. He needed to shower, put on new clothes and then go eat. After that, he would be able to reassess his situation. —------------------------------------------------
Wish I hadn’t knocked all of this over. He thought to himself, slowly placing the shards in a plastic tub. He had been avoiding picking up his apartment. He had known that sifting through the wreckage would inevitably bring his mind back to that horrible night.
Instead he had just focused full-tilt on his plans. He took his rage and hurt and channeled it into his livestreams, into his trials, into absolute destruction. He had been blinded by it. His mind was a lot clearer now after he had eaten and gotten some much needed sleep. So now, he was picking everything back up. He frowned with displeasure as he realized that some of the chemical spill had burned a hole through the carpet. God damn it. He felt silly for being angry about it, all of this was going to be gone anyway. Maybe. He thought. He was now unsure of the whole, flooding Gotham idea. It did seem a little… extreme. He picked himself off the floor to go find something in the kitchen to scrub up the chemicals with. In the beginning he had only wanted to root out the corruption, he thought, pulling a sponge and some soap from under the sink.  The reason why he had wanted to do that was because of how he had grown up. He didn’t want anyone to suffer like he had. When he remembered that reasoning, the flooding did seem pretty far from his original intention. Y/N’s words about hospitals and nursing homes floated through his head. Orphanages too. Guilt rushed through him, and he felt tears drip down his face. “Ugh!” He angrily threw down his gloves and sponge, standing up to survey the area. The glass was all picked up, most of the chemical spill cleaned. “That’s enough cleaning for today.” He said to himself, harshly wiping away his tears. He needed to go for a walk, and think about things. Really think about them. —----------------------------------- Edward had slept very little after he had returned to his apartment. He watched as the cold morning light filtered in through his windows. How could I have been so wrong about everything? He held his head in his hands, not wanting to face the day. 
Y/N had been right. He had gone over the events of that night repeatedly in his mind. The things she had said did make sense. He had just been too far gone to listen. He regretted the way he had talked to her so deeply.
God, I am an evil piece of shit, he thought, desperately wanting a cigarette, a habit he hadn’t had since college. He had let his plans get so far away from him. 
As he watched the sun rise over Gotham he wondered just when it was that his plans had become more about hurting everyone as badly as he had been hurt, than saving anyone. And especially not saving Y/N. His gut lurched, and he pulled his knees into his chest. He had said such hateful things to her. He hadn’t meant any of it, he had just wanted to hurt her. And you certainly accomplished that! He thought, thinking of how her face had crumpled. Her tears. He missed her so much, but knew he was so very, very, undeserving. I can’t face her. He thought, Not after all of the things I said. And even if he did go to her, just to apologize, she might refuse to even see him. He thought of how scared she had been that night. 
She was terrified of me. That realization made Edward want to turn himself in at Arkham, it was nothing less than what he deserved. The guilt was burning a hole through his chest and he needed to move. He needed to distract himself in any way he could. Picking himself up from his bed, he wandered into his living room. 
He kneeled and started sifting through the pages on the ground, collecting them carefully. Focusing on cleaning, focusing on order, maybe it would help clear his mind. Then he would know what to do. He winced as he flipped open a ledger, the pages filled with unintelligible writing. He had really thought that writing had been helping him. He shook his head, looking at the mess around him. He sighed, and continued picking up pages. Trying not to think about the giant mess he had made of his life, about how he would never see Y/N again and that it was his fault. He paused as he heard a rattling sound, looking towards the source of the noise. A bottle of pills had rolled off one of the notebooks he had grabbed. A bottle of..?  Edward got up, confused. What had he done after Y/N left that night? Had he actually taken something? He walked over towards it and froze when he saw an inhaler on the ground as well. His body felt cold and his heart sank, She needs that. He dropped down to his knees by the door, digging through the wreckage and— There. Under a file folder was Y/N’s overnight bag. Edward’s heart was pounding as he frantically dug through it. All of her daily medications were in there and her emergency medication. 
How long has it been since she was here? He racked his brain– freezing when he realized that he had no idea what day it was.Edward was filled with blind, uncontrollable panic. He raced over to his laptop, flinging it open. 
It was November fucking 7th. He had been so out of it that an entire week had passed and he hadn’t even noticed. He grabbed the pills and her inhaler, and tossed them into the bag. She had been without these for seven days. His mind was stuck on that number. 
Seven. Seven days.
She needs these, he thought, his hands shaking with anxiety. He remembered that her symptoms had only been getting worse with the fall and the cold. Hadn’t she mentioned something about her apartment being freezing?It was all here. The medicine for her heart, for her lungs. The pills she had to take for her immune system. Her vitamins. Everything. He had read through every last detail in her medical records, had looked up all of her medications when they were together.  He knew that you couldn’t just stop taking them. He knew how badly she needed them. Oh god, what if—- what if she had needed her emergency medication? She didn’t have it with her, what if she’s—- He wouldn’t let himself finish that thought.
With her bag in his hand, he grabbed his keys off the hook and sprinted out the door. 
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riddledwithrats · 11 months
Text
True Justice
Edward Nashton/The Riddler Character Study
Summary: Edward loses himself in thought
Words: 772
A/n: this is my first time writing eddie so i hope this isn’t absolute shit lol, i’ve seen a lot of different ways people characterize him and the little quirks they give him and i kind of combine some of them in my head. and that’s what he’s like to me lol so sorry if it seems ooc or anything like that
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The fluorescent bulb of the dusty diner buzzes overhead, it crackles and flickers. Edwards eyes are well adjusted to the inconsistency, he’s grown accustomed to the dishonesty of Gotham. Not one thing in this city can be trusted, it's infested with its own greed and corruption. His deep green eyes scan over the dirty countertop, his gaze landing on the man beside him and his newspaper. Renewal, it reads.
This city has been preaching “Renewal” ever since he was a kid. A kid sat on a moldy mattress in the endless confines of Gothams resident orphanage. He can still smell the rats, the disease, coursing its way through the crumbling building. All with the ever-looming promise of RENEWAL, watching him and laughing.
What has this city renewed? The growing bank accounts of its most wealthy? Not one cent has ever gone to that orphanage. Not even after he set it ablaze. It was such an insignificant loss that the GCPD didn't even garner it an investigation. Edward takes a deep breath. He can't let himself lose it in front of the minimal amount of people in this hole-in-the-wall diner. He must keep his composure, his facade, if his plan for true renewal is to go the way he wants it to. He grows giddy just at the thought of the water washing away this stain of a city, he’ll be doing Gotham a service. The only way to save this city is to start from the ground up.
What if it doesn't deserve saving? A clawing voice says in the back of his head. “Of course it deserves saving,” Edward replies under his breath. He thinks of the countless people who —just like him— have been wronged, betrayed, and ignored. They deserve a new life, one of true promise. One of honesty, and acceptance. A life in which they can prosper. The only way Gotham can ever offer this, is by creating a new Gotham. An honest Gotham.
Gotham and its rotten underbelly should drown with it. The voice cackles and Edward shakes his head to rid himself of the horrid sound. No, no, no. He MUST stop the lies. The only way to rid this city of corruption is to wipe it out entirely… And if a few innocent lives are lost in the process, then such is life. Edward grips the pencil in his hand. Oh, yes, that's right. He had been doing a crossword puzzle. He looks down at the paper underneath his quivering, shaking hands. When had he started sweating?
The filled in spaces read: Infested. To calm himself, he reads the word over and over. Wracking his brain for words that rhyme, something he taught himself in the orphanage to drown out the cries of the other children. Arrested, invested, protested. He looks around the diner for more words. Buy our new Apple Pie! A red sign on the window says. Buy, he thinks, Buy, Guy, Sky, Try, High, Cry, Why, Die, Die, Die, Die, Die, Die…
A loud horn honks outside and Edward is whipped back into reality. He's clutching the little, paper crossword book in his hands so tightly he can feel it slicing paper cuts into his palms. He looks around and notices the TV hanging in the corner of the diner. A breaking news bulletin flashes across the screen. Mayor Found Slaughtered In Home. Edward tries to hide his joy as he watches in anticipation, watches as his plan is set in motion as the seedy patrons of the diner rustle and perk up at the news.
He watches in delight as their eyes grow wide as saucers and they begin to stand and leave the establishment hurriedly. Desperate to get home, desperate for some semblance of safety in this cesspool of a city. There is no safety here, not with the cruel and unjust running amuck with wads of cash in their hands.
If there’s one thing Edward can agree with the Batman on, it’s that this city is in need of true and proper Justice. And while the Bat distracts himself with petty crime, Edward feels a smile creep across his face, The Riddler will begin a crusade against the TRUE criminals. Gothams very own, high and mighty, the ELITE. The corrupt, the LIERS, THE RATS!
The diner is empty and Edward is shaking from the force of the truth running through him. Every forged line, every check sent to yet another millionaire, none of it will ever get past him. He knows what they did and he will bring TRUE JUSTICE to Gotham.
Starting with the city's beloved, deceiving Mayor.
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papuhater · 2 years
Text
𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 .i
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arkham riddler x fem!alternative reality!reader
good looking series? should i do a part 2? this is a pilot.
cw_villans_hero riddler_alternate reality_implied death_ooc riddler.
based on this idea: link!
overview; eddie and y/n have been together for years, since they met somewhere in between childhood, they became the other's soulmate. eddie's work with batman puts his wife on edge many times, but he calms her into believing it's just another shift, but is it?
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"honey, it's late."
"yes i know, but i need to finish this, batman needs this tomorrow."
"well, i'm sure bruce isn't right now stressing and is with selina right now."
his exasperated sigh reaches your ears just as his chair spins to look at you, eddie looks tired, he normally doesn't overwork as much with villans. y/n got closer to eddie and offered her hand for him to grab, he did, bringing it close to his face where he cuddled it. his tired face leaned towards it, acting as if he was sleeping on it
"c'mon eddie, let's get you to bed," he mumbled yes and nodded in agreement. he stood up and you guided him into the room, eddie flopped into the mattress and you sat on it, looking at him with strange fondness. suddenly you were pulled down to lay with him while being wrapped in his arms, he delivered you a short kiss and then layed his head onto you shoulder.
the sheet was very soft, your hand grabbed it and pulled it up, eddie had fallen asleep quickly, it wasn't of him to pull an all-nighter, most of the nights after 9 pm he was already in bed and ready to sleep, his face seemed in peace, the soft brown locks were straight in his forehead, you picked his glasses and left them in the nightstand, only to come back to his fully embrace.
the hug continued for a couple of hours, and eddie didn't stir, y/n fell completely asleep next to him, and the night continued safe and sound, but the ambient was broken by a phone.
eddie's phone
eddie sat up groggily and grabbed the phone, y/n didn't move from her laying position, only waking up a bit. his stance changed from relaxed to stressed and she heard some mumbles of protest, then a sigh, a very deep sigh. when he hanged up the phone, eddie got her attention
"what is it eddie?"
"i gotta go, this new villan appeared again, i got the coordinates."
"eddie, this was dangerous from the second you joined bruce's work." you started
"you accepted this as my wife, y/n!" eddie called from the closet
"yes, but can't i be worried for you?" you sat up "can't i be worried for us?"
"i'm not going to get hurt."
"you don't know that!"
"well have some faith in me!" he exclaimed matching your angry tone, there were time like this, times in which his stubbornness was a bad thing, even though it was directed to good. and it would blind him horribly, and just show him that the only way was his. soon the screams became more strong and violent.
"goddammit! you are going to die if you continue like this, you need to listen!-"
"no y/n! this is for gotham, this city needs to be protected and we have a lot of things to take care of in here-"
"and what about me?! don't you need to think of how your death would affect ME?"
he fell silent, and mumbled your name while massaging his temple, he was going to apologize but you continued
"you are right now thinking of only gotham and you are willing to give it all away! what about you?! what would be of you if there is nothing else?! you aren't aware that i love you, and you think you can just leave and i'll be okay! and i can assure you IT'S NOT!" the phone ringing stopped you mid argument, he looked at it, then at you again.
sigh "just take it." and you flopped into bed, facing into the wall
"y/n.."
"go, we'll talk about this later."
he kept quiet, then eddie walked towards you and kissed your forehead
"i'm sorry, sweetheart."
the goodbye was silent, very silent, eddie left like a breeze, your eyes were screwed shut but they opened again when your phone rang, you quickly woke up and answered
“hello?” you heard from the other line a cough and your name, it took you sometime to recognize the voice,
eddie’s voice
“eddie! what’s wrong?-”
“y/n, listen, it was a trap, fuck, i should’ve listened to you-” he coughed a bit more
“what? what was a trap?” you asked confused
“this! th-the call!” he exclaimed, you were feeling on edge “i’m- shit, i’m gonna die, y/n.” that’s when your world dropped
“EDDIE WHERE ARE YOU?!”
“y/n, it’s too late, i’m dying” you stood up, and left the house with your phone in hand, eddie continued
“i love you, and i’m sorry i put my work over you, many times.” you never registered when your tears began falling, but it could be triggered by the sobs that racked from his throat “i’m stubborn, a-and,  everything hurts, y/n, it hurts.”
“i know, eddie, i’m going to the police station-”
“it’s too late, the fire’s consuming everything, i’ll die before bruce get’s here. listen, i love you much, and i’m sorry i’m leaving you like this, i should’ve listened to you, i’m sorry, i’m so, so so sorry you have to go through this, but the most thing that i’m sorry about is that i didn’t spend more time with you.” you were at the doorstep to the police, ready to make a mess and save him, so you could scold him for being so careless
“y/n i love you, please, don’t cry for me.”
“i love you, i’ll save you eddie-”
what you heard while going into the police was your song, the one you both loved; eddie my love. suddenly heard through the speaker a bang,  a piece of wood fell over the phone.
the police could hear your screams for him.
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killerlookz · 2 years
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Dress my Wounds (Edward Nashton x gn! Reader)
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Description: Edward shows up at reader's apartment severely injured after a murder doesn't go as smoothly as planned (pretty much pure fluff)
Warnings: murder, description of injuries/wounds/blood (nothing INSANELY graphic), reader has questionable morals (know's Edward's the riddler + doesn't mind)
Word count: 5,052 (i got a little carried away lol)
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You sigh at the pleasant sound of rain hastily tapping your window, and pull a blanket up closer to your chest. You invite the feeling of warmth from the plush blanket as you snuggle up with it, lazily draping your head against the armrest of your couch. A quiet yawn escapes you while your eyes fixate on the TV in front of you. You watch tonight's Jeopardy episode intently, trying to drum up the answers before any of the contestants do.
"Christian Bale brought to life Patrick Bateman, a wealthy businessman and part-time serial killer in this novel turned movie" states Alex Trebek on the other side of the screen.
"That's easy," you say to yourself, "American Psycho!"
"What is American Psycho?" says one of the contestants.
"Correct, $400 for you,"
You smile faintly at the satisfaction of having gotten one of the questions correct. Eddie would be proud, you think to yourself. Edward was a pretty big fan of Jeopardy, and he had gotten you into watching it nightly after it had become one of your pastimes to do together whenever either one of you would stay over the other's apartment.
Your eyes widen as a loud sound effect plays from your TV's speakers and the colors from the screen reflect on your face just a little brighter, announcing the round's daily double. But then, there's a subtle knock on your door and your head flings to the side. Puzzled, you pause the TV and get off the couch, you weren't expecting anyone and it was pretty late for company even if you were. You wander over to your door and stand up on your toes to look through the peephole. When your eye finally aligns with the small hole and adjusts to the distorted view you feel your heart plummet down into your stomach.
Just outside stood Edward, looking longingly up towards the peephole, you can barely make out his bloodshot eyes from behind his shattered glasses. One of his cheeks is scratched up, and he has a bloody nose that's leaking crimson down his swollen lips and a darkly bruised black eye. His face appears to be twitching and he's tightly grasping his upper arm with his opposite hand and he is absolutely drenched from the rain.
You quickly undo the locks on your door and swing it open,
"Oh, Eddie!" you whine, reaching out your hands and motioning him inside. You run your hands through your hair anxiously before shutting the door behind him as he walks in. "God, Edward, what happened to you?" you try to look him in his eyes but he has this painful expression on his face that makes it hard for you to look at him. You can tell behind the cracked lenses of his glasses that he's crying which causes an indescribably painful ache in your heart that nearly makes you well up in tears. You want to hold him, and kiss him, and tell him, everything will be okay, but you don't even know what's wrong with him, and you fear if you were to throw your arms around him you'll only hurt him more.
"He fought back," Edward said meekly, his voice hoarse.
You were aware of Edward's activities, his yearning for change, and the extreme measures he was willing to take to get there. Yet despite the brutality he'd inflicted on others, it never seemed to turn you away from him. It wasn't like you were just going to fall out of love with the man you had spent so many years loving just because he wanted the people driving your city into the ground to pay for their actions.
"Who, baby?" you swallowed hard, "God, let's get you to the bathroom," you huff under your breath, not giving Edward time to answer. You wrap an arm around his waist to try to help him maintain his balance as you lead him over to your bathroom. The sound of his wet boots makes a squeezing sound against the wood of your apartment floors.
You enter the room and flip on the light, a bright fluorescence now enveloping the room. You sit him down on the rim of the tub and he looks up at you with wet, puppy dog eyes, and you feel ready to cry over how much pain he's in. Your gaze slowly averts to his arm, you notice the palm of the hand that's squeezing it is bloodied. You gasp and realize the surrounding area of his jacket is also stained with blood. "Your arm," you say, panicked, "Eddie, what happened to your arm?"
Edward opens his mouth but nothing comes out, and so he tries again.
"He had a knife," his eyes slowly start to go wide and he shakes his head back and forth, "I wasn't expecting him to put up such a fight."
Putting two and two together, realizing Edward was either stabbed or slashed you quickly turn to your medicine cabinet and begin rummaging through it.
"God has this thing always been so cluttered?" you mumble anxiously to yourself before finally coming across a roll of bandages. You pull out some band-aids, as well as hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls from the cabinet under your sink. With shaky hands, you try to gather everything together before reaching into your shower and grabbing a washcloth and wetting it under the sink. You look at everything that you've gathered and hope that it's enough to clean and care for Edward's wounds.
"Eddie, can you stand up and lean against the sink for me?" you ask so you can tend to his arm first. Edward gets up and takes a few steps over towards the sink, resting his back against its outer edges. You look at him for a moment and try to think what was the best way to go about getting his layers off without taking pressure off the wound for too long. You sigh, and place your hand on the collar of his jacket, Edward looked at you and slowly removed his hand from his arm, revealing just how bloodied he really was. You inhale sharply as you saw the deep red that stained his jacket and hand, but you know you can't linger for too long and begin removing his jacket. You notice him wince as the fabric passes his wound. Finally the jacket is off and you toss it over the shower rod.
You turn back to Edward, "I know it's gonna hurt, but can you lift your arms for me, I'll be fast." you ask as you place your hands at the hem of both his hoodie and the shirt he had underneath so you could take them both off at the same time. Edward nods slowly and begins to gradually raise his arms above his head. His face contorts in pain and small groans escape his mouth as he does so, making your heart sink inside your chest.
Finally all his layers are off and your able to get a good, proper look at his arm.
"What happened Eddie?" you ask as you examine his arm. It's covered in blood and continues to bleed, his arm is drenched in various shades of red. A bright crimson pours from the wound, while specks of dark, dried, maroon can be found in other spots. You sigh, relieved, that despite the perfuse bleeding, it seems he wasn't cut deep enough to the point that he'd need stitches.
You grab the washcloth and start to clean up his arm as Edward begins to explain, "It was this cop, working for Falcone, I found out he was pretending to be a dealer for some of Falcone's rivals, and secretly poisoning their supply... sabotaging their drugs so they were no good and people don't won't want to buy from them anymore." he started, small gasps and whines occasionally leaving his lips whenever you got too close to the wound. "It lead to a bunch of fatal overdoses around the city... all those people dead just so Falcone could drive business over to his operation and make his greedy, rich, ass even richer."
"Awful," You shake your head, "This city is full of filthy scum." You'd finished cleaning up the blood from Edward's arm as best as you could, and now you had to actually clean the wound, "Continue with the story baby, this is going to hurt a lot, you'll want to distract yourself," you say, already dreading how much pain you know this is going to cause him. You begin to prep some cotton balls as he continues with the story.
"Well, I found his apartment, broke in while he was at work, the dumb bastard never even locks his doors, well, when he came home, I waited for the perfect time to attack, but as I was sneaking up behind him, I stepped on a creaky piece of- AHHH," He suddenly cut himself off as the peroxide soaked cotton ball began to touch the area outside his wound. You quickly look up at Edward at the sound of his distress, his eyes are welling up with tears, and you notice he's suddenly grabbed a hold of your free arm, squeezing it so tight you're sure he'll leave a bruise.
"I'm so sorry Baby," you sigh.
Edward looks up at the ceiling and blinks away the tears that are welling up in his eyes,
"It's okay," his grip on your arm relaxes, "It's okay, keep going,"
"I'm almost done, and then we can bandage it, mmkay?" Edward nodded to you in response.
"Well-uh, where I left off," He begins, his voice wavering, "I stepped on a creaky piece of wood, and he heard me- ah shit he- he got me down before I could get him down... and- fuckfuckfuck ahh shit we, fought a little, he was able to get my mask off, he pulled out a knife, god-fuck-ah, he put up a pretty good fight- but-but I got him, I got him." Edward finished explaining, interjecting here and there with expletives when the pain became too much. "He got what he deserved."
"You gotta be careful honey," you say as you finish cleaning up the final areas around the wound. Edward is whining in pain, his breathing is labored, and his fingertips have found their way dug back into the skin of your arm. "You uh- you didn't leave any of your blood at the scene, did you?"
"I am careful," he says, letting go of your arm. You notice a small shift in his voice and notice that he's getting a little defensive. "Of course, I didn't. I'm very careful about these things. You know this. I cleaned the blood, and took the knife." He looks at you with a tearful gaze, "I had it all planned out," Edward shook his head, his lip quivering, "My work is ruined."
You look up so your eyes meet his, you knew how passionate he was about these things. You knew the time, the effort, the precision he put into everything, and you knew how much pride he took in his work. He was smart, methodical, everything he did had meaning, and he knew the work of his survival instincts did not carry the same meaning as his work would on a well planned and thought out night.
"Eddie, I know you're careful, I didn't mean it like that... I just- I worry you know, I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you," you reach your hand up and stroke his cheek, careful not to touch any of the scrapes and cuts that litter his face. "I'm not insulting your method, it just hurts me to see you hurt, that's all," you exhale and remove your hand from his cheek, but Edward grabs your wrist before your arm swings back to your side. He places your hand back up to his cheek and kisses the inside of your thumb, and all along down to the palm of your hand while he nuzzles his face into your touch. You form a small smile at his action, the affection makes your heart start to flutter.
"I need to bandage your arm now," you say, slowly removing your hand away from his face and he nods. You grab the bandage from off the sink's counter and begin to wrap it around Edward's arm. He seems a little calmer now, his breath only hitching slightly when your fingers get too close to the open laceration. You finish and tuck the end of the bandage in to keep it in place, before leaning over and planting a small kiss on Edward's arm over the bandage. You hoped that it would be enough and that you had not judged his injury incorrectly by thinking it was less severe than it actually was.
You bend down to get another washcloth from the cabinet under your sink so you could have one that wasn't already covered in blood to clean up Edward's face with.
"I'll clean your face up now honey," you glance back up at him, "Just sit back down on the edge of the tub." You say, running the cloth under warm water from the sink.
Edward obliged, and you got down on your knees, between his legs, and sat up straight so the two of you were nearly at eye level now. You placed your hands on either side of Edward's head, your fingers carding through his hair for a split moment before grabbing the temples of his glasses and taking them off.
"Do you have another pair of glasses?" you ask as you set the broken pair aside. "At home?"
"No, those were my only ones," Edward responded, dejectedly.
"Mmm then it looks like we'll have to go out and get new ones tomorrow," you smile
"Yeah but I- I liked the way those ones looked on me. I thought they looked nice."
You shifted your mouth to the side for a moment before speaking,
"I think you'll look nice in any pair of glasses you try," you push Edward's hair back, and quickly run your fingers over the back of his head, "But I'm sure we can find another pair of clear-rimmed glasses." You place your hand around the back of Edward's neck and gaze at his bloodied face. You sigh as your eyes pass over the scrapes and cuts that litter his face, frowning at the bruise that was forming around one of his eyes. Even now he looked so beautiful to you, despite being bruised up and bloodied, still, it hurt your heart to see him in such pain.
It probably made you a hypocrite, to be all worked up over Edward when he made it out alive and another man lost his life. But, you felt little shame about that, by poisoning those drugs, and working for Falcone, that officer had killed way more people, than Edward had. And those victims were innocent.
You reached out to grab the washcloth off the edge of the sink and first began to wipe the blood from his nose. You place your fingers on the bridge of his nose and squeeze gently to see if he'd have any reaction.
"I don't think it's broken," Edward says, "It doesn't hurt too bad."
"Just being safe." you smile.
The blood under his nose is mostly dried signifying to you that the bleeding had stopped.
"Let me know if I'm pushing too hard, okay?"
You move the cloth around the area of his nose, gently wiping the blood away and you place a hand on his cheek as you do so, rubbing his soft skin with your thumb, careful not to touch any of the abrasions.
Once you finished cleaning up the blood around Edward's nose, you place a small kiss on the tip of his nose
"Can I kiss your lips? I don't want it to hurt." You said, acknowledging his busted and swollen bottom lip.
"Please." He urged.
You leaned forward and pressed your lips ever so gently against Edward's, giving him the smallest peck.
"It's okay," his lips just barely grazing yours as he spoke, "You can kiss me a little harder." he chuckled
In response, you place a hand on the side of Edward's neck and kiss him just a little deeper. He whines lightly when you accidentally press your lips too far against his, which causes you to nearly retract from the kiss, but Edward puts a reassuring hand on your cheek, letting you know what you're doing is okay. His commitment to kissing you, despite the pain makes you smile into the kiss, Edward feels this, and smiles as well.
"I have to clean the rest of your face," you say as you pull away from Edward, "Hopefully this will sting less than last time," you say as you stand up from where you kneeled between Edward's legs. You moved towards the sink and took a couple more cotton balls out and soaked them in the hydrogen peroxide. You scrunched your face as the strong scent of the chemicals hit your nose, urging you to close the cap on the bottle.
You kneel back down between Edward's legs and give him a small smile,
"This should be quick, not much to clean left," you start with the largest scrape that sits right in the middle of his cheek. As soon as you press the wet cotton ball against the abrasion Edward hisses in pain and takes a large breath in. You grimace at his reaction to the pain, wishing that you didn't have to do this to him.
Edward continues to wince at each touch of the cotton balls, flinching each time they came in contact with the wounds on his face. It was hard to see him like this, to see Edward in so much pain, but at the same time, you had to be grateful that at least it wasn't any worse, that despite the injuries, nothing truly horrific had happened to him.
You reached for the box of bandaids and ruffled through the assorted sizes to look for one you thought would fit best. You pulled out two of the medium-sized ones and placed them over the largest abrasion on Edward's face in an x-formation.
"All done," you said before kissing Edward's cheek where the bandaids lie. You sit back a little, allowing yourself to get a good look at Edward's face. He looks a little bit better now than he did before, most of the blood was gone, and his wounds were clean. Still, much of the injuries on his face would linger for a while until they eventually scab over. "How are you feeling?"
"My head is absolutely killing me, my arm too."
"No worries baby, I'll get you something for the pain, hold on." You got up from your spot on your knees and moved back to the medicine cabinet, rifling through it to find some sort of pain reliever.
You come across a bottle of Advil and took two pills out of it to give to Edward. You set the pills aside on the sink while you quickly run into the kitchen to get a glass of water so Edward has something to take them with.
"Hopefully this is enough, let me know if you need more." You say as you walk back into the bathroom, glass of water in hand. You grab the pills off of the edge of the sink and hold both them and the water out to Edward.
"Thank you, sweetheart." He says with a smile before grabbing the items from your hands. Edward quickly throws back the pills with the water, swallowing loudly, before finishing off the glass with a loud, satisfied, exhale.
You reach out your hands, motioning for Edward to stand up.
"Are your legs alright?" You ask, realizing you had not checked them for any injuries.
"I'm sure my knees might be bruised, but nothing in need of dire attention." He says, wobbling slightly as he gets up from where he was sitting. You hold onto Edward's waist while you walk him into the bedroom, your both arms wrapped around him tightly. "I can walk alright baby." He chuckles.
"I just like how you feel against me." You smile as you continue to walk to the bedroom.
"Oh, well I like..." he knitted his eyebrows as if contemplating what to say next, "Being... against you?"
"You don't sound too sure of yourself Eddie." You giggle.
"I am, I just, don't know how to phrase it." He shakes his head.
"That's alright, I know what you meant." You say while walking into the bedroom. You let go of Edward, "Let me look, let me see if I have something you can wear."
You scurry over to your dresser which makes Edward chuckle slightly at your hurried movements. You pulled out the drawers and shuffled through them to see if Edward had at one time or another left a t-shirt or a pair of sweatpants at your place that he could wear tonight. After some digging, you pulled out a Radiohead shirt and smiled,
"This must be yours," You held it up to show him. "I couldn't find any bottoms though."
Edward shook his head, "That's okay,"
"Do you need help getting changed?" you ask. "I don't want you to hurt yourself"
"Sure. Please."
"Okay, just sit on the bed so I can reach you." You smile.
Edward sits on the edge of the bed in front of you, and you're once again between his legs, standing this time. You bunched up the shirt before pulling it over Edward's head so he wouldn't have to raise his injured arm too high in order to get it on. Edward put his arms through the sleeves wincing slightly, and you pulled the shirt the rest of the way down his torso.
"Thank you," Edward gave you a small, tightlipped smile, "I can do the rest myself."
You stepped away from Edward, sitting down next to him on the bed. You heard the sound of metal clicking as Edward began to undo his belt before standing up and slipping off his pants and kicking them to his side. From where you sat his legs didn't seem to be too seriously injured, some light scrapes on his knees and some redness that would probably become bruises later on.
Now Edward stood before you as you sat on the bed, looking up at his glasses-less face. You silently admire him for a moment, taking in how beautiful he is, even with his face all banged up. Despite the blood and bruising he still looked so soft, so delicate, and you felt an overwhelming urge to protect him.
"What?" Edward asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked down at you.
"Nothing," you pause, "Just staring."
"Is it bad? My face- does it look really bad?" Edward asked, "I'm a little afraid to check the damage."
"Some bruising... your lip is busted... and your face is pretty scratched up," you shifted your mouth to the side in a half-frown, "You still look very handsome, though" you smile, "That won't ever change."
You watched intently as Edward's mouth began to curl into a sheepish grin, the meer sight of his smile making your heart skip a couple beats.
"Oh, Y/N." You noticed a slight blush on his face from your compliment which earned a small giggle from you.
"Come here," you motion, and Edward walks just a little bit closer to you, he's towering over you now that you're sitting and he's standing. You throw your arms around his waist and squeeze him tight, his body is warm and you nearly feel yourself melt into it. You can feel his hand on the back of your neck before it makes its way into your hair. He very softly pulls at the hair that sits on the base of your skull, carding his fingers through the strands as he massages the back of your head.
"I'm so sorry Edward," you say, suddenly feeling a pang of guilt for how injured he was. "I hate to see you so hurt."
"It's- it's alright- I've been through worse."
His statement reminds you of the stories he'd told you throughout the years. The horrors of his childhood, and all the misfortune he'd had to bare at such a young age. And that same misfortune had seemed to follow him throughout his life, and had fallen on him once again tonight, which made you beg the question of, 'when will it end?'
The memories of the stories he'd told made your body contract and squeeze Edward tighter. You wished you could keep him here, safe, in your arms forever.
"I love you, Edward," you say, just above a whisper.
"I love you too, so much."
You look up to look at Edward, your head resting against his stomach.
"Thank you for taking care of me- you're the only one who ever has." Edward's hand slides down to your back and rubs it softly while he speaks. "I was a little worried to show up here so injured."
"Worried?" You frown, you knew Edward was naturally anxious, a product of his upbringing, still, you were a little surprised to hear this, "You never have to be worried around me, ever." You reassure, "I'm always here, for you, only you, no matter what Eddie."
Edward looked down at you and smiled, he seemed calm, happy even, which made you feel at ease. All he could manage out was a choked "Thank you."
After a moment of the two of you silently enjoying each others company Edward spoke again,
"How about we finish that episode of Jeopardy I saw you were watching when I came in before?"
You nodded, letting Edward go as you got up from the bed. The two of you made your way into the dim living room. The rain still pattered hard against the windows which added a relaxing ambiance to the area.
"Here Eddie- I'll lay down first," You say, getting onto the couch and laying across it, only propping yourself up slightly with a pillow against its armrest. Edward followed after, climbing onto the couch carefully so as to not irritate his injuries. Edward lays on his back, resting his head just below your sternum, letting his body take up the length of the couch, your legs out on either side of him.
"Comfortable?" you ask.
Edward tilts his head backward to look at you,
"Yeah- this is nice. Do you want the blanket?"
"Please," you smile.
Edward grabs the plush blanket that sits thrown over on the back of the couch, draping it over the two of you. It covers more of him than it does you since Edward is laid so low on your body, but it still does the job for the most part.
The TV is still on, paused on one of the Jeopardy contestant's smiling faces, giddy that they have the chance to answer a daily double.
"Can you see the TV alright baby?" You ask.
"Not really... it's mostly a blur." Edward shakes his head before tilting his head back once again to look at you. "Just vague shapes."
You place a hand against Edward's forehead before running it backward and gently carding your fingers through his still slightly damp hair.
"Aww baby," you frown, "We'll get two pairs of glasses tomorrow- just in case they ever break again."
Edward hums a, "Mmm." in response before relaxing his head once more, turning it to the side so it faced the TV despite his inability to see it very well.
You pick the remote up from next to you, resuming the game show from where it had left off. The bright colors against the contrast of the dark living room.
"I'll wager 3,000 Alex." Says the contestant picking their daily double amount.
"Okay, Thanatologists study this bummer of a subject." Sates Trebek as the statement appears on the large screen in front of the contestants.
"That's easy, death," Edward says nearly immediately.
"Uhh- what is... death?" The contestant answers hesitantly.
"Death is correct, 3000 for you."
A smile spreads across Edward's face when Alex confirms that he had said the right answer.
"God Eddie, why aren't you on Jeopardy." You giggle, not even surprised that he had gotten the answer so quickly.
"I'm not- pretty enough for television."
"Oh don't be ridiculous," you say, still running a hand through Edward's hair, your fingers carefully massaging his scalp. "Don't say that Eddie, you're so pretty, pretty like you couldn't believe," You began to ramble, "So pretty."
Edward's face starts to flush from your praise, his cheeks turning a light pink that you could just barely make out from under the light of the TV. Edward tries to hide his blushing by nuzzling his face against your stomach, turning his body slightly.
You throw your head back on the armrest so that you're looking up at the ceiling, and you begin to daze off a little bit, listening to Edward's mumbled responses to the Jeopardy answers. As the game goes on, and on his mumbles get quieter, and eventually disappear. You yourself are nearly asleep by the time you notice Edward's quiet snores- you lift your head from the armrest to look down at him.
Edward's arms are brought in close to his chest, snuggling the blanket that surrounds the two of you. His chest rises and falls in a slow rhythm, mouth slightly agape as he breathes in and out. You contemplate waking him so you can bring him to bed, but Edward looks peaceful, at ease, and you didn't want to disturb the sleep he was getting since you knew it wasn't always easy for him to fall asleep.
You knew the morning was going to be hell, that he'd wake up riddled with unbearable pain, and you dreaded knowing you were going to have to see him like that. But all you could do for now was let him relax, and take solace in the fact, that at least for now he was at peace, and not in any pain.
955 notes · View notes
danoberry · 1 year
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★ i’m so sick (joby taylor x reader) SMUT 18+
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description: joby finds your vibrator and has you put on a show.
content: SMUT 18+!!!, hella overstim, slight masochism, dumbification, squirting, cum play, voyeurism, degradation, just overall filthy
pronouns: you/yours (female reader)
wc: 2.5k
afab genitalia
AN:
woah two posts in like three days? i’m on a roll! wrote this one on a whim because i got a good idea, and stayed up all night working! enjoy!!!
You’re tired— so fucking tired as you lie on Joby’s bed. You’ve had a long day at work, and he knows this. It’s only 5pm, but as the blinds cast a shadow over your body, the lamp outside of the apartment illuminates your body in stripes of shadow and light. Joby stands over the sink, washing his face with hot water, groaning from the warmth of the water while he holds his hands to his face. He found something of yours before you got home. He’s stalling to tell you… it’s for your own good. 
Joby slyly walks out of the bathroom, but you can’t see him yet, with your face buried in a pillow that smells like body odor and cigarettes. He opens his drawer nonchalantly. 
“Baby?” He calls out. 
“Hm?” You groan.
“I found something of yours today.” 
“Oh you did? What was it?” Your voice is muffled. 
“Turn around and I’ll show you.” 
“But baby,” you whine, “I’m tired!” 
Suddenly, you hear a buzz humming from the other side of the room. Surely he isn’t shaving. You turn over and Joby stands there, mockingly in awe of what he has in his hands. He’s looking it up and down. He’s touching the top and watching his fingertip shake. He found your vibrator. 
Your eyes widen and you sit up. 
“Where’d you get that?” 
“Your nightstand.” 
You scoff nervously. “What were you doing in my nightstand?” 
“I was looking for some chapstick… but I found this pretty thing instead! When do you have time to use this?” He continues to run his fingertips against the top of the pink, vibrating toy. 
“Joby I— I use it when you’re away. Turn it off, it’s gonna go dead. Just put it up and forget about it.” 
“Forget about it?” He asks. “You want me to forget about it? You’re so desperate you can’t even wait for me to fuck you? You have to use this cheap shit?”
“Joby seriously it’s not that big of a deal—“ 
He throws the vibrating toy onto the bed next to you and it vibrates against your thigh. You pick it up to turn it off, but Joby doesn’t approve. 
“Uh-uh, babydoll,” he tuts. 
“What?” You scoff, impatience bubbling as he gets cockier. Joby pulls a chair from the table and flips it around, straddling it. He leans his forearms on the top of the back of the chair and runs his fingers through his hair. 
“Well, if you want to be a whore and use a cheap piece of plastic to fuck yourself, you can go ahead and show me.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me—“ 
“Nope. I wanna see how you fuck yourself when I’m not here.” 
You hesitate with your mouth agape, he raises his eyebrows, smirking patronizingly. 
“Show me baby.” 
Your cunt begins to clench around nothing as he speaks to you in such a degrading way. You’re quite angry with him, sure, but fuck is he turning you on. You argue one last time for full effect, “Joby come on, this is so stupid!”
He stares at you like you’re ignorant, not muttering a word. You huff a whine and grab the vibrator, dragging it along your clothed thighs, trailing to your cunt that was already clenching around nothing. 
You leave it at its lowest setting, pressing it gently on your clothed clit. You mewl at the feeling and grab one of your tits from under your shirt, squeezing it. You pull the vibrator away from your clit and use your hands to take off your shirt, and then your bra, your pants, and soon, you’re sat with nothing on but a thong. You fail to see Joby’s reactions. He licks his lips and palms at his growing erection while he’s watching you strip for him across the room.
You grab the vibrator again and hum when you press it back to your clit, grinding yourself onto the toy and whining quietly. 
“Oh- fuck Joby,” you whisper. He watches silently, entertained and aroused by the way your body moves against your toy. The way your back arches when you press just a little too hard, the way you shake your core around the vibrator when it isn’t giving you enough. He’s fascinated. He’s fucked you plenty of times and he’s seen you like this, under him before, but something about watching you from afar— really studying you, it’s making him weak. 
You turn up the setting on the vibrator, whining more and more as slick falls down your weeping hole, getting on the mattress. You press harder on your clit and moan out, gasping. A knot forms in your stomach, and you press harder on your bud, letting your orgasm crash over you, and quickly setting the toy aside to catch your breath. 
Joby watches as you do this and wants to come over and put it right back on your clit himself, to send you into overstimulation by his doing, but he doesn’t give into his fantasy so quickly. Firstly, he stands up and walks over to you and sits next to your tired body that’s panting, staring up at the ceiling. Joby kisses your forehead, but he feels anything but remorse for what he’ll order you to do. 
“Did I tell you you could stop?” He asks you, like you’re a baby. 
“Oh, Joby!” you whine loudly. 
“I didn’t, did I?”
“No…” 
“Correct!” he taunts. “Come here.”
You sit up and crawl in between his legs, laying against his chest. He grabs the vibrator and turns it onto the highest setting, not hesitating to hold it against your clit. The feeling shocks you immediately and you whine out against his shoulder. 
“Ah- I- Oh, Joby! It’s too much! It’s s’much Joby!” 
“If you want to act like a helpless little bitch I’m gonna treat you like one.” 
You moan while you shuffle your feet and move against his stomach, feeling the erection straining at his pants. You’re barely distracted though, because you’re so overwhelmed by the high pressure he’s emitting against your sensitive bud. You breathe against him— engulfed by body odor and cigarette smoke. You feel your second orgasm impending fast.
“Please, I- I’m- Hmngg- Please!” 
You flail against the toy and cry out against his shoulder as your orgasm crashes, to what feels like all over your body. Your legs shake while you yelp, losing feeling in your core for a brief moment. He keeps the vibrator pressed against your cunt, sobbing with cum and clenching hard on nothing.
“Joby it’s too much! Too much! I- ah- hmphh!” You scream against his chest and tears start to form in your eyes, the vibrator constantly hurts your core and stings at your clit. You weep against his body. His dick is rock hard, straining against his pants, and you can feel it while you rub and whine and cry and squirm against him. He simply kisses your head. 
“You can handle it.” 
The pain settles in fast as another knot snaps in your stomach, and all you can feel is hot. He presses down and lets up repetitively, drilling the vibrator onto your bud. You flail around while you shuffle your feet. Drool pools in your mouth as you scream and moan with your mouth agape. You dig your head against his side, and slobber drips out of your mouth, staining on his white tank top. His dick twitches again and you can hear a groan escape his mouth, quiet yet pronounced.
 The pain subsides and turns into pleasure again. You’re melted into an incoherent, babbling mess. 
“Job- ah, uh, ff- hmngg, Jo- ah- by!” You’re screaming against him. You can barely breathe. You love it. 
“Such a pathetic whore,” He growls into your ear, grinding his erection against your back. “You like that, huh? You like being fucked by this cheap shit? Do I need to stop fucking you so you can use your toy more often? ‘Ah- ah, oh Joby!’— you’re hilarious!” 
“‘Need you— you— ah!— in me,” you whine all over him.
He takes the vibrator off of your cunt abruptly and turns it off. 
“Do you need my cock,” he asks, “or do you need this?” he waves the toy in front of your face, and presses it to your lip. He throws it next to you. You look up at him against his chest as he stares down at you. Your eyes flutter. 
“Both— please,” you’re starting to cry from the lack of contact. 
Joby wouldn’t admit this to you, but watching you cry in his lap made him feel a bit remorseful for being such an asshole to you. He doesn’t relent, though, he simply pets your hair and growls again, “Flip over, you dumb bitch.” 
You try to move, mewling as you pick your arms up and attempt to face him. You just can’t. 
“Aww, is my pretty baby too sore to move?” He taunts.
You nod your head and sniffle. Joby sits up and lays you down in front of him, your pussy inches away from his crotch. He swipes his fingers between your drenched folds, bringing his hands to lips, licking off your slick. He unbuckles his belt and throws it to the side, unbuttoning and unzipping his tight jeans. He pulls down his boxers and his cock springs out immediately. Precum leaks from his bright pink tip, begging to be inside you. He swipes his fingers over your slit again and rubs his cock against your thigh, shoving his slick covered fingers in your mouth, gagging you for a moment. You moan, and he takes his fingers out of your mouth.
“Joby please!” You beg, coughing— spitting. 
“God I don’t know how you aren’t embarrassed at yourself. Drooling for my cock. You want my cock?” He mocks your whining, “Huh, yeah?” 
“Please,” you beg in a broken sob. 
Joby scoffs and laughs at you, bringing his cock away from your thigh and rubbing it against your soaked folds. You moan when his cock touches your swollen clit, and yelp when he finally shoves himself in you, giving you no time to adjust. He takes your legs and wraps them around his hips, fucking into you fast. 
He leans over your body, grabbing one of your tits and flipping at your nipple. You’re weak— voice getting sore from screaming and moaning. He fucks in and out of you relentlessly, grunting when your walls spasm around him. 
All that he can give you isn’t enough, as much as you try and convince yourself it is. With all of the prior simulation compared to him fucking you, it’s not enough, even if his cock is hitting all of the right places. You look up at him, and he’s squeezing his eyes at the ceiling, swallowing hard as you see his Adam's apple disappear and appear quickly.
You grab the vibrator from your side and quickly flip it onto the highest setting, applying it to your clit and crying out from the double stimulation. Joby snaps his head down when he feels the vibrator hum around you. 
“Can’t get enough huh? Fucking slut.” 
He leans over you and takes control of the vibrator while he ruts into you at a brutal pace. He uses his thumb against the tip to press down onto you. You’re squirming against him with tears rolling down your face in bliss. Spit is pooling to the side of your face, thrashing back and fourth. 
His cock curls deliciously, kissing your cervix when he fucks into you. You’re whining and moaning his name when you look into his eyes and begin to squirt clear liquid onto the lower part of his shirt. He holds the toy against your clit, and it doesn’t stop streaming. You’re moaning with euphoria, and you cum almost immediately around his cock, squirting all over the front of his shirt. 
He’s fucking into you harder and riding out your high while you clamp down on him, and the tightness is enough to make him cum as well, but he quickly pulls out and lets the white droplets bead all over your stomach, leaning over and kissing your tits. 
Your squirting ends and Joby finally takes the vibrator off of your cunt and turns it off. He’s drenched in your fluid, towering over your body and groaning as he smears his cum all over your stomach with his hand, and grabbing your tits with the stickiness making noises as he takes his hands off of you. 
Joby lays down next to you, and you’re moaning out quiet sobs as you’re still coming down from your high. 
“Are you okay baby?” He asks with sincerity, the juxtaposition of how he’s acting almost enough to alarm you.
Your eyes flutter, you nod your head slowly. “Legs… hurt s’bad,” you mutter. 
“They’re hurting you, princess? Do I need to kiss them better?” 
“Mhmm…”
He sits toward your thighs and licks them, tasting your juices and pecking at them. You’re so tired from the countless orgasms you just endured. Your eyes are closing with tiredness. Joby takes his head from your thighs and massages them when he lays back next to you. 
“You got me soaked, baby.” 
“I know…” You acknowledge quietly. 
“Do you need to sleep?” 
“Mhm…”
“Go ahead and sleep baby, I’ll get you all cleaned up when you wake up.” 
“Thank you Job.”
“Of course, my cockdrunk babydoll.” He chuckles at the name he gives you. You kiss Joby on the cheek and fall asleep with your hand on the back of his neck. 
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nowyouknowdano · 2 years
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Fucked- Inmate Sweat x fem reader pt.3 (nsfw)
While he’s in he starts to roughly rock his narrow hips up into me. His face falls in between my tits, licking and sucking all over my chest as he uses my body as a conduit for all his pent up frustration and rage. “-Oh, -my, -go!” is all I can muster out as I’m breathlessly pounded into.
“I know, fuck baby I know.” He practically growls back at me, lifting his head to look at my face. He leans his perspiring forehead against mine to look me in the eyes. My body feels like it’s about to fall apart so I try and hold myself together, by wrapping one arm around his toned shoulders, and the other goes up to run my fingers over his cropped hair, now damp with sweat.
“God you always look so helpless, I love that about you.”he sluggishly grunted out, fucking me harder. All I could do was take him in, in every way; his scent deliciously sweaty and musky, his voice rough and breathless, his eyes unwavering and determined, his hands gripping my hips and breasts for dear life, his cock making me feel full and intoxicated, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. “Fuck I’m close!” He groans as he quickens his pace for a few moments, before his movements start getting sloppy. “Give it to me baby, don’t you stop!” I moan out loud, forgetting our current location. “How do you want me?” I plea wanting him to cum wherever he preferred, as always.
“Mmouth -Now!” He cries, desperate to feel his release I quickly fall to my knees in front of him and rub my hands up his bucking hips as he pumps himself, tapping my lips with the swollen pink head of his throbbing cock. I open my mouth to allow him the access he so desperately desires sticking my tongue out as far as it can go. His tip slide against my lips and tongue as he gives his final few pumps. I savor the salty taste of sweat mixing with his bittersweet pre-cum, he’s soon spurting out lines of himself all down my throat, for a moment accidentally getting a bit over my cheek and in my hair.
“Ahhh -fuck, you’re an angel.” He groans out lowly as he comes back into his body. I swallow as he pulls up his boxers and pants, fixing his belt with his left hand as he leans down to swipe my cheek and hair with his right thumb. “Finish what you started.” He smirks smugly, hovering his thumb over my mouth, his eyes flicker between mine and my lips, there’s something malevolent behind them. I’ve barely opened my mouth before he shoves his thumb far down my throat making me gag. He smiles once he saw my eyes water.  He slowly removes his thumb from my mouth making sure to swipe strings of saliva across my lips, before we’re both startled but the doorknob jiggling.
I hurry to my feet and pull up my underwear and pants in one swipe. I look at the clock to see it’s now 11:45 which means we’ve been in here for 15 minutes. “Fuck”, “Shit” “Fuck” is all either of us can say as we heard a loud pounding on the door.
“Y/n! Sweat! Unlock this door immediately!” the angry voice of officer Lambert can be heard surely loud enough to hear all the way from down the hall. I can’t believe what I just got myself into.
a/n: ahh ok that was it I hope you enjoy and have a beautiful day! love ya🥰
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imagine--if · 1 year
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A Light In This Darkness
A/N: Dedicated to @riddlers-den; check out their post because omd the analysis is just 👌 I'm sorry in advance if this makes anyone cry 😂😂 Warnings: Slightly graphic images/descriptions? Mostly comfort 💚 Words: 768
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He gets like this sometimes, the darkness in his mind swirling and hurling up, as if they're alive, tearing him apart. The flakes of his past torment him, and the only way you can tell is when he freezes up, green eyes stilled and unfocused, a fraction wider as he stares into space. Everything floods his mind at once, and then Edward jumps up, running to the bathroom just in time, clearing his head somewhat after he throws up.
You wake up groggily at the sound of coughing and sputtering from the bathroom down the short, cramped hallway of Edward's apartment, the long night dragging on outside, darkness coating the room. He's not laying next to you as you roll over, and you frown in confusion and concern, sitting up and craning your neck to look out at the gap in the doorway.
"Eddie?"
Your tentative call is left unanswered for a few moments, before the man shuffles weakly to the bedroom door, looking so small and hopeless as he stands, gazing at you apologetically. Your heart sinks with sadness and adoration, and you smile sympathetically, opening your arms up wide. That's all the motivation he needs to quickly go over to you in bed, heavy arms winding around your neck as his face buries under your chin. You rub up and down his back soothingly, a hand reaching up to rake your fingers gently through his sandy brown hair, and Edward shivers, pressing himself into you as close as he can get. Your top gradually feels wet where his face is, and you almost feel like crying too, hugging him back just as hard.
"Poor baby," you whisper to yourself, and he hears, head lifting to look up at you with a spark of hopefulness amidst his downcast expression. Your smile grows slightly, as it always does when he eagerly responds to any bit of loving attention you give him. He treats you like an angel, like something so precious and lovely and perfect. Now you can do the same.
"You're not alone, Eddie," you murmur softly, your thumb grazing his cheek, and he closes his eyes, slumping forwards into you again with a shaky sigh of content. "You're not invisible. You could never be invisible to me."
Edward's grip tightens around you in response, looking back up at you in tired wonder. You take his hands and squeeze them affectionately, then slip out of bed, and he grabs at you with a desperate whine, attempting to pull you back to him.
"I'm just gonna get you some water, okay?" Eddie dithers, not letting go of your hand, and after a second, you tug at it lightly. "Come on."
So he trails after you forlornly, letting you grab a cup from the small kitchen area and fill it with water, handing it to him. He sips at it gingerly, and you wrap an arm around his waist encouragingly, using your free hand to brush back strands of hair stuck to his forehead.
"Okay? Feel a bit better now?" you ask him when he finishes, and Edward nods, leaning into your side as you take the cup off him and put it in the sink. "Let's go back to bed, okay?"
He's still quiet as he settles back into reality, clinging onto you needily, and you let him take all the time he needs, pulling the blankets over your heads and tangling your legs with his, Ed shifting closer from lying opposite you, resorting to studying your face and body with a small, thoughtful smile.
"Hey," a sudden idea comes to you, and you hold back a grin as Edward meets your eye attentively. "Hey, why did the lovestruck couple end up in prison?
He blinks, perking up a little at your try of a riddle, and stares at you expectantly.
"They stole each other's heart."
Edward snorts with amused laughter, and you beam at the sound, watching as he crawls onto you and nuzzles his nose against your cheek, breathing evenly now, his eyes focused instead of dangerously far away.
"You're a light," he says quietly into your ear, "a- a light, in this darkness. Thank you. Thank you so much..."
You smile, pulling him down to rest properly and kiss his cheek, an action which visibly makes Eddie melt, his sleepy stare clouded with that intense adoration he always shows you rather than despair and fear. You watch it until a more peaceful sleep finally overtakes him, and then you're asleep too, greeted with the same look in the morning. Guess you're both going to prison.
.・ Taglist: ・.
@simestandswithtaylorswift-blog @carley-carley-carley @lostbunn @dencchan @dragovegogrimborn @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @edwardspumpkinpie @murderbimbo00 @sweetums0kitty @beel-mcburger @cml-san @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @r4iner @bimboanime @phoenixgurl030 @vaylordd @dangerouslittlefairy @katjourno @yoyoanaria @yaeyuuki @vinxlsketches @beenz-beenz @ghoulsgraveyard @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @r3ptiliaaa @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowers @hxney-lemcn @confusedchildsstuff @callsigncrash @sugahbabieexo @bokksieu @skateb0red @wilburrrsworld @philiasoul @darthcringe @felicityofbakerstreet @bloodypantomime @deadlights-darling @tianotfound @mortem-muse @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell
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colorsofjun · 2 years
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Hi there! Is there anyway I could get a link to your Spotify playlists?
For everyone who was asking, here are the Spotify playlist links! If you have any requests for a certain character (any character/fandom) with any certain theme, please let me know! Enjoy!<3333
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12s2VnmXabHD50Lzybl1QD?si=g7USJR9GQaG46KYYdF3zlg
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5G95QI5N29oKxvqACmWJhH?si=guJucTUPRzuR0GaWkASTuA
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0R12ypRMZwzFgQHxsKlA7f?si=9tLi6fWmS9quImcRHDhQbQ
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/78M22EbvqczPkPyhtf3pIR?si=bprruWbGT_eJA-jalypUYg
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/12xhqq3fJX6oad77has4hj?si=a0kGtUioQW6TYhcZlXN3KA
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Dl3Sc3rBriXDvmb8rxOq2?si=XdcOz2PfSqWq0hBbwMIQnw
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