I Want Him.

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 | 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | even though you can’t afford to break rules, you manage to with your own asset, the nerdy genius that created the zephyr. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | simon feck (knight and day, 2010) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 | smut— handjob, loss of virginity, sub!simon, slight dom!reader, mommy kink 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | WHY IS THERE NO CONTENT FOR OUR NERDY BABY SIMON IM MAD ANYWAY HAVE THIS | follow @cremebruhleewrites to be notified when i post a new story!

You had one objective for the night, only one thing that Roy had told you to do: keep an eye on Simon. Make sure he stays in the hotel room. He could do whatever he wanted, but he needed to stay there. It was similar to how Roy was supposed to watch June; “Just make sure he stays safe,” Roy had told you. 

You stood next to Roy as he explained to Simon the situation, and as he gave the younger man a pin that said Hall & Oates. Wherever Roy had procured that pin in Salzburg, Austria was beyond you, but your boss and trainer often seemed to do impossible things. He had only briefly told you about Simon— how he was the genius who created the Zephyr, how he was just out of high school and smarter than any scientist employed by the government today. 

You had expected a scrawny, lanky kid that had nothing going for him. Instead, you met Simon Feck. Six feet tall, ginger hair hanging at his shoulders, wire glasses perched on a pert nose, with the most pathetic excuse for a mustache and goatee you had ever seen on a man. Simon had been quick to try to rectify some of the information that Roy had given you. “I’m 21,” he told you on the train, over the sound of the hydraulics pumping. “I don’t know why Roy said I was just out of high school. And I’m not as smart as he says. I-I did come up with the battery, that wasn’t a lie, but I’m not Einstein or whatever.”

On the train, you and Simon had gotten along. He had a small iPod stashed in his pocket and, once he was finished with gawking and admiring the train and speaking to the conductor in clipped German, you sat with him and, sharing his earbuds, listened to music with him. He was funny when a song he liked would come on, he’d bob his head and mouth the words, and it made you smile. Then, as always, June’s presence seemed to fuck everything up, and suddenly your own presence made sense. Roy was the muscle, and you secured the asset. 

But the hotel was calm, and there wasn’t a lot to do. Sitting in Simon’s room wasn’t very eventful; he sat on one end, reading and listening to his iPod (Hall & Oates, no doubt), and you sat at the other end, trying to watch television but actually watching him. It was dull, truth be told, and you sighed. You had left a little space between you and Simon, just in case he didn’t like you sitting too close, and he looked up from his book. His cheeks were just a little pink, almost like he had been outside and gotten a little sunburn, and he said, “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you told him. “Don’t worry about me. What’re you listening to?” 

Simon grappled with his book to retrieve his iPod, and he clicked the screen on. “Hall & Oates,” he said simply. 

“I figured as much,” you giggled, reaching out and playing with the pin on his shirt. “What song?”

Simon smiled softly as he looked down at where you were messing with his shirt, and he said, “Do you like Hall & Oates?” 

“Not as much as you do,” you told him, and you let your hand drop off and into your own lap. “But I know the big songs. Maneater, Rich Girl, Out of Touch, you know.” 

“You’re Making My Dreams Come True,” Simon told you. “I-It’s one of my favorites.” 

“That’s a good one,” you said, and you folded your legs up underneath yourself as you got comfortable. “Do you like all 80s music, or just Hall & Oates?” 

“Just Hall & Oates,” Simon chuckled. “Since high school. I’d be in my little lab, working on the Zephyr, listening only to them. It makes me feel safe, y’know? My mom listened to them a lot.” 

“I get that,” you told him. “I’m the same way with Elton John. It’s just comforting to me.” 

Simon nodded, and he pulled out one of his earbuds and offered it to you. Just like on the train, you moved close to him to listen, but something felt weird. It didn’t feel like the train anymore. Maybe because you were alone now, the energy felt different. Your thigh touched his with the proximity, and you watched his hand come down onto your thigh gently, almost as if he didn’t realize what he had done. That was the final straw for you, and you whispered, “Hey, Si?” 

Simon looked at you, silently prompting you to speak, and you pulled the earbud out hastily. You couldn’t. Roy could sleep with June all he wanted because he was Roy and he operated under a different code than you did. You could not do that with Simon. The heat in the bottom of your stomach betrayed you, though, and you couldn’t help but sigh. “I need to go,” you mumbled, but, before you could properly get up to leave, Simon grabbed your hand. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. “You were fine a second ago.” 

“Yeah, I was,” you started. You couldn’t tell him that you had to leave because he turned you on. The smell of his soap was enough to trigger it, and you stepped back, away from him. “I-It’s not you, Si, I just, paperwork, y’know? Government entities run on paperwork.” 

Simon watched you with his big eyes, examining you, and he said, “I did something wrong.”

“No!” you told him quickly. “Simon, you did nothing wrong, believe me. Please don’t think you did. This has nothing to do with you.” 

“Is it because I touched your leg?” Simon asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no,” you said quickly. You sighed, your chest heaving with it, and you looked at the door, where you had last seen Roy before he left. “Okay, it kinda was that, but not how you think it is. I… Simon, you’re just really attractive, y’know that?”

He looked surprised to hear you say that, his eyes widening and his eyebrows raising, and he shook his head quickly. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbled, and you sat back down, squeezing his hand.

“I’m not,” you insisted. “Simon, c’mon. Your big green eyes and your smile, you’re just so cute. I kinda… My heart races when I see you.”

“Really?” Simon asked. He looked down at his lap, and, mumbling, he added, “People in high school used to…”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, Simon,” you told him gently. “That sucks. People kinda suck in general. I was teased a lot in high school too.” 

“Most people have their first kiss by 17,” Simon told you, and he pushed up his glasses. He seemed to have a habit of fiddling with his glasses whenever he was nervous. “And here I am, I’m 21, and I doubt it when a girl calls me pretty. It’s just… It sucks so bad, being hurt like that, y’know?”

“I know,” you told him. “I’m sorry, that really does suck a lot. I-I wasn’t teased like that, but… Fuck them. You’re better than they’ll ever be, okay? You’re a bigger man than them.”

“A bigger man,” Simon repeated. “That all means so much, thank you. But I can’t help but feel just so inadequate. You know what I mean? It feels like nobody wants me, and that shouldn’t hurt so much, but it does. It hurts really bad.”

You shrugged, squeezing his hand again. “”I think you’re handsome, Simon,” you told him. “I think you’re adorable, actually.”

“You’re just saying that,” Simon said, and you watched a flush come over his cheeks, accentuating the tiny freckles he had on his face.

“I promise I’m not,” you said quickly. “In fact, I’d really like it if I could kiss you… Can I?”

“You…” Simon began, his flush glowing deeper in his cheeks. “I’ve never—”

“I know, baby,” you told him. You gently smoothed his wild hair out of his face, and you watched his bottom lip tremble in anticipation. “That’s why I asked.”

Simon readjusted his weight on the sofa, and he shyly mumbled, “I… I really like when you call me that.” 

“What?” you asked. “Baby?” Simon nodded, and you smiled sweetly at him. You had figured that he was a virgin, but his blush made it all the more obvious that he hadn’t ever felt the touch of a woman. “Aw, you’re cute. Can I kiss you, baby?” 

Simon nodded quickly, his shy nature keeping him quiet and mellow, and you quickly moved closer to him. Your thighs touched again, and his hand landed on your leg once more, and that fire returned to your belly. It was stronger than before, now knowing everything you did about Simon, and suddenly a different fire emerged. You wanted to ruin this poor man. You wanted to help him explore and discover himself. You needed to. You carefully leaned into him and touched his burning cheek, and you gently pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth. You heard his beautiful gasp as his breath caught in his throat, and he whimpered, actually whimpered at you. “Please…” he whispered. 

“Please what, baby?” you asked. “Use your words.” 

Simon seemed flustered, and you almost worried that you had taken things one step too far, but he finally sighed, almost lovingly simple and soft. “Please kiss me,” he whimpered. “Please.”

You couldn’t help but oblige his begging, and you finally pressed your mouth to his. He was soft, and he sighed as you kissed him, and it made your heart melt. Your hand on his cheek titled his head a little so you could better kiss him, and Simon made a soft sound as he finally kissed back. It was obvious he didn’t really know what he was doing, but his inexperience was cute. His hands twitched next to his body, and you smiled into the kiss before breaking it. “You can touch me, if you want,” you told him. 

“O-Okay,” Simon said, and he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Umm, actually, can we… Can we stop?”

Your heart sank, and you quickly shifted away from him. “Of course,” you told him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”

“Oh, no, you didn’t,” Simon told you. “I-I just…” 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. “Are you okay?” 

Simon swallowed thickly, and he mumbled, “I-I’m just…” He paused and his blush grew deep, creeping into his ears and neck, and he added, “I-It’ll go away in a minute, I’m sorry.”

“What will go away?” you asked. “Si, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s okay.”

“No, I do!” Simon groaned. “Y-You just can’t make fun of me, alright?” 

“I would never,” you told him, and Simon wordlessly took your hand and settled it on his pants. It took you a moment to understand what he meant, but then you felt him through his jeans. “Oh, Si. Are you hard?” 

“I-I said it’ll go away in a minute,” Simon stammered.

You chewed your lip for a moment as you thought. You definitely wanted to be able to help him, and he seemed like he would be open to the idea. “I could help you,” you offered. “If you’d like that?”

“Help me?” Simon echoed. “Y-You’d want to touch me?”

“Yes, of course,” you told him. “You’ve masturbated and stuff before, right?” Simon nodded, adjusting his glasses again, and you leaned forward and kissed him again. “Have you ever cum?”

“No,” Simon told you. "I could never make myself..."

“Oh, my poor baby,” you said gently, kissing him once more. “I’ll help you cum, if you’d like.”

“Yes,” Simon said, choking out his answer through a thick throat. “Yes, please, t-touch me.”

You took his hand and led him from the sofa over the large hotel bed, and you sat down first, kicking off your shoes and taking off your trousers and shirt. You figured he would be greedy for the feel of your skin, and you pulled him close to you and kissed him. You edged a little closer to him, pressing your chest to his, and you took his hands and settled them on your hips. “If you want me to stop, just tell me,” you said, and Simon nodded. “I’m gonna lay back and you’re gonna put your back on my chest, okay?”

His skin was warm against yours as he settled himself between your legs, and you took care to remove his glasses from his thin nose and set them on the table next to the bed. You softly blew on your hands, trying to warm them up for him, and you lightly reached around and touched his chest. Despite your gentle and slow movements, he still jumped, and you shushed him softly. “I know, baby,” you whispered. “Tell me to stop and I will.” 

“Don’t stop,” Simon said, his voice a little higher than before. “Please don’t.” 

“I won’t,” you told him. Your fingers itched in his shirt, tugging it up a little high to expose the happy trail of thin hairs on his belly, leading down to where his hard cock strained at his jeans. Carefully, you helped him tug his shirt over his head, and you kissed the side of his face as you discarded his shirt. He was incredibly thin, his chest pale with just the sparsest hair speckling his skin, and you gently smoothed your hand down his chest to his jeans. He sighed heavily, almost like he was comforting himself, and you kissed the side of his head again. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you whispered, and Simon shook his head quickly. 

“I want to,” he said. “I-I’m just nervous.”

“That’s alright,” you said. “I’ll be good to you.” You were quick to undo his jeans, and you snaked your hand inside his pants and down past his boxers to feel the burning skin of his cock, so impossibly hard. You sweetly kissed the side of his face as you withdrew your hand, and you pushed at his pants, trying to move them as far down as you could.

Simon got the message, thankfully, and he shoved his pants down his legs, kicking them off hastily. He seemed eager, and it eased you to know that he did really want this. Your hand lifted to his cheek, and you turned his head to look at you as you sealed your lips together again. Simon moaned softly, deep in his chest, and his hands lifted as he turned slightly to face you better. You expected him to go for your face, just how your hands were, but he quickly pawed at your tits instead. 

“C-Can I?” Simon asked, and you smiled. 

“Yes, baby, you can,” you told him, and Simon turned fully around and settled himself just above your tits, and his fingers worked to push your bra down. You went to help him, but he did it fully by himself, and his mouth attached to your nipple in an instant. You gasped in shock, but you still writhed beneath him when he sucked hard. “Oh my God, Si…Yes, baby, just like that. Do you still want me to touch you?” 

Simon grunted softly, nodding as he sucked at you, and you licked your palm before lowering your hand down to his cock again. This time, you wrapped your hand fully around him and slowly started to stroke him, and Simon’s mouth faltered around your nipple as he moaned.

“Good boy,” you whispered, smoothing his hair out of his face. Each stroke of his cock made Simon moan and buck his hips up into your fist, and you loved seeing the flush in his cheeks draw down onto his chest. “Here, baby, turn around,” you told him, and Simon gave a high whine when you tried to pull him away from your tits. “I know, baby, but I’ll be able to touch you easier if you turn around.” 

You almost didn’t hear what your baby said in response, something muffled against your tit, and you smirked when you finally understood it. “Say that again, baby,” you told him. “Because it sounded like you called me Mommy.” 

“M’sorry,” Simon said quickly. “I-I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, baby, don’t worry,” you told him quickly. “I liked it. Call me that again.” 

Simon nodded quickly, and you swiped your thumb across the sensitive head of his cock to elicit a sound from him. Thankfully, he did as you wanted, and his words came in a mumble as he keened back against you: “Mommy, please…” 

“I will, sweet boy,” you told him, kissing his cheek. “Stop squirming, baby, let Mommy touch you all nice.” Your hand quickened on his cock, moving just a little faster, and Simon’s head fell back onto your shoulder as he moaned again. His hands were twitching by his sides, obviously wanting to touch you somehow, and your free hand reached down to take his. Your poor boy already looked close to cumming, what with the way that his hips bucked up to meet your hand with every stroke you gave him, and you squeezed his hand. “Are you getting close, baby?” 

“Yes,” Simon whined. “A-Are you gonna—”

“Just warn me before you cum, baby,” you told him, soothing whatever anxiety he had, and Simon nodded quickly. “You’re being so good for Mommy, such a good boy…” 

“This,” Simon started, and he moaned as your thumb smoothed over the head of his cock again. “Th-This isn’t how I thought this night would go.” 

“Me too, honey,” you told him. “But I like the way it’s turning out, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Simon laughed, and you let go of his hand to turn his face so that you could kiss him. His mouth was warm, already used to the feel of yours, and, as he kissed you, you could feel his cock twitch in your hand. “Mommy,” he mumbled. “I-I think I’m gonna cum.” 

“That’s it,” you told him. “Turn around, baby, I’ll let you suck my tits while you cum.” 

“Can I…” Simon began as he hastily turned back around to face you, his eyes zeroing in on your tits. “Can I cum on them?” 

You smiled at his boldness to even ask, and you reached behind yourself to undo your bra, and you tossed it across the room. “Be my guest, baby,” you told him, and you dragged him down into a kiss. He was open for you, your tongue pushing into his mouth in an instant, and he moaned into you as his own hand started on himself. 

“I’ve done this plenty,” Simon chuckled as he broke the kiss, and you giggled at him. “Never thought I’d do it with a pretty girl, especially one who saved my life earlier.” 

“You’re welcome for that, by the way,” you told him, and Simon smiled as one of his ginger waves fell into his eyes. “Your hair just won’t stay back, will it? Got a mind of its own.”

“You should see it in the morning,” Simon told you. “It’s all flat and it’s everywhere, it’s not good.”

“Maybe I will,” you said, and Simon’s eyes all but sparkled as he took in your words. 

“Y-You’ll stay?” he asked, and you nodded. He huffed out a pant as he neared his finish, and he said, “Cool. I’d like that.” 

“Good,” you said. “You gonna cum, baby?”

“Yeah,” Simon nodded. “And you promise you’re okay with…?”

“Yes, baby,” you told him, and you dragged him down into another kiss. “Please, Simon, I want it.” 

“A-And what would that be?” Simon asked, and you laughed. 

“Trying to be a little dominant,” you mused, and the blush in Simon’s cheeks grew deeper as he laughed with you. “Alright, we can try that.”

“Use your words,” Simon said, more of a caricature of dominance than actuality. “What do you want?”

The way that the same words had previously come out of your mouth made you laugh, and Simon smiled. “Cum on my tits, Simon. Please, baby, that’s all I want.”

“Good,” Simon mumbled, and his fist worked faster, hurrying to cum. “I-I’m… Fuck.” 

“Oh, you’re cursing now?” you laughed. “What happened to my sweet boy?” 

“Call me that again,” Simon said, his voice high with a whine, and you watched his legs and thighs jerk as he grew closer and closer. 

“My boy,” you told him. “Are you my boy, baby?” 

“Wanna be your boy,” Simon mumbled. “Wanna be your boy so bad.”

“You can be my boy,” you said. “If Roy gets to be with June, we can be together.” Fuck your code, you decided. If Roy could do it and not receive repercussions, then you could too.

“Yeah,” Simon whispered. “Oh, fuck, Mommy…” With one more tug on his cock, Simon’s mouth fell open and his eyes squeezed shut as he came. His cum spurted out in thick ribbons, landing on your chest, and the flush in his cheeks grew deeper still as he moaned. His breathing hitched in his chest as he gave you his release, and he finally fell down on top of you, exhausted and spent. You couldn’t help but smile in his mess of hair, and you kissed his temple. 

“Good boy,” you told him. “You’re my best boy, Si.” 

“Thank you, Mommy.” 

You were thankful that you and Simon were quick to shower and redress because, not even an hour later, Roy came into the room unannounced. Simon had fallen asleep in bed after his shower, wearing just his boxers and little white wife pleaser, and you had settled yourself back on the sofa, where everything started. 

“Anything eventful happen while I was gone?” Roy asked.

You shrugged, looking from the television to where Simon slept. “Nothing,” you told him. 

“What did you do?” Roy asked, sitting next to you. 

“Oh, you know,” you started, and laughed. “We fucked.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Whatever, you’re making fun of me, I see it,” he said. 

Then, from across the room, you heard the high whine of your best boy, and your body froze as he spoke: “Come back to bed, Mommy, m’cold.” 

||Edward Nashton x GN!Reader|| devoted to you ||

summary: from the very first time you decided to step foot into that café, Edward had been infatuated with you. He couldn’t help himself. He had to get to know you, to be in your presence and be KNOWN. be FAMILIAR. he did everything to know you, he daydreamed about you and him, entangled. Fingers locked. He knew all about you. That’s how he liked it. He fooled himself into believing you and him were REALLY in love. But you had no idea who he was until he decided to let himself be known to you.

Cw: mentions of stalking, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, sexual content hinted at.

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As the Soft putter of The rain bellowed below onto the dark and foreboding place deemed Gotham, Edward Nashton sat quietly, hunched in his dingy and overcrowded apartment. His hair sticking to his rounded face, as he stared into his computer screen.

His clear glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he sat focused on the blinding screen, the light emitted from it being the only thing that illuminated his shadowy room. His lips curled into a heaving grin, his teeth busting through as he stared at the image. It was an image he acquired of you.

It was fresh to his collection and he couldn’t help but admire you as your blurry figure stood, admiring what had been below you, wrapped in your fingers. It was a letter. From him.

He cackled softly as he stared at it. He bit his chapped lip as he felt his body flare; and ignite with passion. Oh how he loved when you read his cards. He had been thoughtful, and he thought it showed.

Picking out cards he thought you would enjoy. Ones that through his secret alphabet, revealed how deep his passion burned. It was red hot, and scarlet, flaring as it flushed upon him, raining on him like the rain that proceeds throughout Gotham.

That’s how he felt the first time he saw you. When you had first stepped through the diners entrance, your hair matted and wet from the rain, your smile beaming through the desperation you felt to get to some sort of safety away from the thunder and rain. And then, you sat right next to him. Then right there, He felt something within him ignite that day. A hunger that never subsided, only grew to be progressively hungry.

A famished beast within him. At first, he didn’t know how to feel. Feel about the sweltering that grew raw within his chest. You looked at him, like no one else did. You stared at him with your glossed eyes, and Edward felt warm and welcomed to them. Being called in. Even as he sat there, his back curving to Shield his worn out diary; the pen staying stiff within his hand as he looked back at you. he smiled. And the best part was, you smiled back. Even then he knew that from then on, you and him were meant to be.

He wanted to crawl into bed beside you all those day you had wept and all those day when you were sick. He wanted to be near you, just like the first time he had saw you. He never saw you in the diner again but he always waited. Hoping you’d maybe one day come back. Even then he didn’t mind.

He knew where you went when you were absent. He watched you everyday. He knew when you woke up and when you went to sleep. He knew it all and he would rise when you did and fall when you fell, the moon shining down on you as you slept. He knew you like no one else. Your favorite music, your favorite food and more. He knew you better than you knew yourself even.

He loved you so much he even touched himself to the thought of just talking to you. His smiled always painted thin as his hand planted itself on his shaft. His lips shuddering as he whispered out your name, his body flaring again and again. He loved how you made him feel. But he felt as if he loved to much that it sickened him. He was beyond any normality and there was no-turning back. He ached and swelled in bliss. Just for you.

You sat waiting for response. There was nothing. He had ignored you again. You sighed softly, your eyes welting as tears slid from your puffed eyes. He ignored you again. How could he? Your fingers slipped around your phone as you attempted to call him. No response. You pulled your phone back frustrated as you angrily texted him a goodbye before you stood up.

Your mind racked with images of him tangled with someone else; an image of them strewn about a messed up bed as you attempted to focus on getting ready. You were going to get out. You needed the fresh air. You sniffled softly as you made your way towards the diner, unbeknownst to you edward followed your pursuit. Once he had realized you were going to the diner he did a blunt turn, slipping through an alleyway to make it there before you. He needed to be there before you. He needed to see if you’d sit with him.

When you arrived, your eyes scanned the booths. All filled. Your eyes then traveled to the counter at The front. The man you had saw the first time you were here was sitting, hunched over as always. You laughed slightly; assuming he was a regular. Slipping up beside him you looked over to him and decided to talk to him. Lord knows you needed some human interaction, especially after being locked inside your apartment everyday. You were horribly terrified to go out alone. It was all because of the letters you kept receiving from someone. The letters and cards resembled that of the riddlers work. It horrified you. You knew what the masked vigilante was capable of. Your hairs stood on end as you thought of it.

Edward had been watching you the whole time. Reading your expression; that of sadness mixed with some unthinkable fear. What could be causing your face to twist into one of dread? He didn’t know but he stared at you as you looked back at him. His eyes quickly evaded yours. He cursed himself for looking away. A perfect opportunity to stare into your eyes yet again, so up close and personal and yet he chickened out. Ashamed he sat as he scribbled at the crossword in front of him.

You cleared your throat making the male look up at you. You smiled as you attempted to make conversation.

“Gothams gloomy as always..”

Edward nodded slowly, pushing his specs up. Yet again Edward felt it. The festering obsession, building up and swelling within his chest, cracking up through his heart, to his face. His face curled into one of surprise. Looking at you from his shoulder as he responded.

“Gotham is quite the dark and unforgiving place isn’t it?”

You nodded into you cup, sipping as you cast your cup down.

“Indeed it is…my name is y/n, and you?”

Edward grinned as you told his name. He already knew your name. How silly of you to give it to him when you both knew eachother. He was elated to breathe the same air as you. He wanted to seep his love deep within your skin and allow it to grow, and plant itself in every part of your body.

He loved that you were playing this little game with him pretending you didn’t know him. He played along serenading it as he danced around it. He didn’t mind so long as you came rubbing against him, giving him the attention he desired.

“My name? My name…yes my name is…Edward…”

He answered truthfully. How could he lie anyways? You knew him and he knew you. It would be unfair to play his alter identity when you both were so close and played with one another. He watched as you smiled, extending your hand to him. He hesitated. He didn’t know why? He had craved to finally touch you for so long. So why now had his hand grown so clammy and stiff? He stayed like that for a brief stance, before slipping it into yours.

You smiled. You admired the males courage, despite his shy demeanor. He was odd, but his face and overall presentation was comforting enough to not make you uncomfortable nor distressed. His froggy and timid demeanor was inviting.

You studied his face, round and thin chapped lips, his wide green eyes that sat directly behind a shield of clear plastic and glass. His hair that stuck to his head, somewhat tamed. You admired his cute face, and his personality was somewhat cute. It almost made you forget that you were only here to get your mind off your now ex.

“Edward? I like that name. What brings you here? Is it me?”

You teased. Edward looked at you with a look of pure hunger. You knew him so well. He wanted to throw himself into a warm embrace, locking lips and wrapping his arms around you, but he contained himself. He loved to play your games.

He liked it just as much as his cards littered with riddles he loved to send you. He loved it almost as much as you. You were as warm and inviting as his riddles were. Yet you we’re also just as mysterious as them. Maybe that’s why he was so infatuated with you. Even if he thought he knew you he’d never fully know you or your thoughts. He’d never be able to dissect that wonderfully curated brain of yours. Never, which almost tortured him as much as the life that is, what he deemed his very own riddle.

Cruel and unwelcoming. But he never blamed you for that no. He couldn’t. That’s just how it was. And he had to play by the rules, and so he did. He slipped from his thoughts as he looked back at you.

“You caught me! in fact I’ve been following you around everyday.”

You stared at him, laughing the remark off. He was joking, it was apparent to you, just teasing you for the remark you had made. Of course it was a joke. But it rang true to your current situation, which sat with you. You ignored the feeling though, stirring the now cold coffee you had purchased.

“That’s funny you mention that. I’d been doing the same thing.”

Edward sat up slightly. His ears enjoyed what they had now just processed. They were delighted. They wanted to hear more. You liked him just as much as he liked you? Oh but of course, he knew this. Yet his chest couldn’t help but thump, thump loudly as his heart banged against it. He was never going to be over you. He was truly devoted to you. He’d never let you go.

“Oh? I…If that’s so…then…why don’t you come over? Since you’re so interested in me?”

You laughed it off slightly. The remark. Did he actually want you to come over? You hummed in response. Not saying anything as you ran the waitress over to you, paying and briefly scribbling on a napkin before you left. Edward stared at it, his body aching as he read what message you left for him.

“Hey Ed, why don’t you call me? Let’s have Lunch sometime?”

He giggled slightly, staring at your phone number. That was one thing he didn’t have. It was now in his possession. He grinned, shoving the napkins into his inner coat pocket, slipping out into the rain as he looked above, to the deep dark Gotham sky. He laughed, extending his arms out as the rain enveloped him. He love your little games. He loved it all. He was simply and utterly devoted to you.

AND THATS ALL FOLKS!! I haven’t wrote anything in awhile and I thought it was about time I finished one of my Edward fanfics I had on the back burner. I hope you enjoyed!

obsessed

ethan landry x fmreader

page: getting a call from ghostface is never good. especially when you find out who lives under the mask—the dorky boy who you drunkenly kissed one night.

content warning: kissing; a little bit of touching; obsessive ethan; blood + mention of dead body; finger in mouth

god, he was obsessed. the way you danced, swaying your head without a care in the world. a red solo cup was in your grasp, as you took spacial sips.

ethan’s hands itched to do something he shouldn’t. you were a target, and his infatuation would only make you more so.

but then he catches sight of a guy slowly dancing up to you. his eyes ran down your form hungrily, and ethan nearly broke his teeth, as he clenched his jaw.

you and ethan knew each other. you were in the same friend group, but ethan never allowed himself to get closer than that.

now watching your drunk ass begin to half heartedly grind on the stranger made him crack. he pushed off the wall, skirting past the sweaty people until he reached you. grabbing your shoulders he brought you towards him and away from the stranger.

you crashed into ethan, your balance not ideal at the moment. ethan eyes the guy with a glare, as you turn to face the man again. ethan slips his hand around your waist, as you grab his shoulder, more so for balance than anything.

you look up at ethan with furrowed brows. “ethan? i didn’t see you.” you smile, your mind and mouth drunk.

ethan spares you a glance and restrains from touching you any further.

“hey angel, don’t tell me this is your boyfriend.” the gruff voice of the stranger meets both ethan and yours ears.

you open your mouth but ethan beats you to it. “yeah, i am.”

your brows further crease as you gaze up at him. “boyfriend.” you mutter out. “boy friend.” then you realise something, your forehead smoothing. in your drunk state you clued it up to ethan agreeing to being your ‘boy friend’, with that exact space inbetween.

ethan’s grip tightens around your waist as the stranger speaks. “well, your girl seemed to enjoy grinding her ass on me a little too much.”

ethan didn’t like the way he spat the words while holding a smug expression. “she’s clearly drunk, asshole. don’t let it get to your head.” i’d be happy to stab you ten times if you don’t get her out of your head too, ethan doesn’t say.

the stranger scowls but backs up, disappearing into the crowd. ethan immediately turns to you, his breath hitching when he realises how close your watching him. your smile is wide and your eyes wondrous.

“fuck,” ethan mutters under his breath, before he drags you off the dance floor and into the hallway.

you subconsciously brush a strand of hair from ethan’s eyes, and they grow wide in response. he stops, though your grip is still on his arm.

“you ‘av pretty hair.” you nearly giggle.

ethan is focusing anywhere other than your lips, neck or eyes. all things making him slowly lose control. “i do?”

you eagerly nod, as you reach up to run your fingers though it. he freezes, watching you closely. you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you’re drunk. ethan chants this in his head. but then you lean closer looking concentrated.

you run your thumb along his bottom lip, brushing something off, but all ethan can focus on is your face and the feel of your hand. ethan can’t help reaching his own hand forward to brush your bottom lip.

“oh, do I have a hair there too?” you question, about to raise your hand to replace his when he suddenly steps closer, your back hitting the hallway wall. ethan continues to watch your lips as he runs his thumb along the bottom again, and as you open your mouth to speak, he lets it brush past your lips.

his thumb grazes your tongue, as you stare at him. through your drunken haze you close your mouth, your lips wrapping around his thumb almost delicately.

ethan’s breathing turns choppy, his chest heaving up and down as he watches you begin to drag your tongue along his thumb. he steps forward again, now pressing his entire body against yours. he feels as though he’s going to pass out by the way your looking at him. wide innocent eyes, slightly heavy from being drunk. drunk. you were drunk.

ethan pulls his thumb out of your mouth, but he can’t seem to find the strength to step away. you lick your lips free from your spit, and ethan holds back a groan. fuck, he wanted to kiss you.

your hand reaches up to tap under his chin playfully. your mind was a blur. “you taste like alcohol.”

and he looses whatever self control was left as he mutters a ‘christ’ before smashing his lips against yours.

your head hits back against the wall, as ethan’s hands wander your entire body. his tongue is dancing with yours as he explores. he wants to erase every other guys touch. he wants you to only remembers his. but you won’t remember this. your far too drunk. and so, ethan forces himself to break the kiss.

but he ends up just leaving your lips. he kisses your cheek, then your jaw, all the way down to your neck. your hand is back in his hair, making him groan. he laps at your skin, tasting your perfume, as it burns his tongue.

his grip has tightened around you, his head practically burrowed into your neck, as you gasp. “oh, god,” he breathes, getting far too carried away.

his hand drifts down from your hips, under your skirt. gripping your thigh he lifts it over his hip. perfect access as his hand dips down to your panties, rubbing one stripe along your covered pussy. you jolt making him smile. he continues to rub you, trying different pressures. it was torture trying to refrain from ripping your panties clean off. but ethan wanted you to remember this.

as compensation for his restraints he kisses you, hard, as he groans into your mouth, before he pulls away with a bite to your bottom lip.

he pushes himself away from you, setting a good distance to regain control. you touched your lips, before catching his gaze. he immediately looks away, scared he’d repeat what he’d done.

he harshly runs his hands through his hair, as you step forward.

“was it not good?” your question came off so innocent. your state made you have no filter, resulting in you spouting exactly what you were thinking, no room for embarrassment.

ethan’s eyes softened as he caught your gaze. he shook his head. “that’s not why I stopped.”

“oh.” you say with a nod, before looking down to fiddle and straighten your skirt.

fuck, you looked almost sad. ethan felt terrible, wanting so badly to continue. but you would hate him in the morning.

“come on sweetheart, i’ll take you home.” ethan forced himself to say, as he held his hand out.

you quickly look up, with a shake to your head. ethan frowns, stepping forward.

“it’s okay. i’ll get home.” you smile before turning down the hallway and towards the exit.

ethan rushes after you, as you both reach outside. the cold night air contrasted drastically with the humid environment inside.

ethan grabs your arm, making you spin back. you look at him questionably. you didn’t appear hurt or anything which only made ethan’s brows furrow in confusion.

“your not mad at me?” he asks.

“mad at you? why?”

ethan breaths an almost sigh of relief, thinking he hurt you. but then your almost dismissive comment made his heart ache. did you not want to kiss him?

ethan tightens his hold on your arm. “ethan?” you ask. “i’m gonna head home now.”

ethan shakes his head. “i’ll take you.” without leaving anymore room for disagreement, ethan pulls you to his car.

. . .

ethan panted, his face hot under his mask. blood pooled by his feet, as he tilted his head to inspect the dead body. it was a student in the same class as tara. his dad had hoped that this would be a cut too close to home, maybe strike some fear in the carpenter sisters.

he cleaned his knife with one swipe of his gloved hand, before he stepped over the body. he was in an alleyway, halloween festivities easily heard throughout the city. he was prepared to remove his mask when he caught sight of a familiar head of hair.

you walked along the street, gaze distracted by your phone, as you most likely headed home. though a certain part of ethan wanted to make sure you did get home safe, and alive.

quinn had mentioned you as a possible first kill, but ethan was quick to come up with some excuse about how it wouldn’t hurt the carpenter sisters in the way they wanted. even so, ethan was still worried that quinn or his dad might go against his words and choose to kill you in their own time. he couldn’t let that happen.

so, he left his bag to be collected later, and began to follow you.

it wasn’t strange to see a ghostface walking around. it was halloween of course. so, ethan was quick to blend in with the other horror icons.

you skirted past people, reading the messages left by mainly mindy. she was ranting on about who she thought ghostface was. ethan was her top suspect. you had laughed it off, originally thinking how stupid that would be. but soon remembered that anyone could be ghostface, whether they were a tall, intimidating football player, or a dorky kid from econ.

your phone then began to ring. your brows creased not recognising the number. you hesitantly place to your ear, darting your gaze around. “hello?”

“hello, y/n.”

you sucked in a breath. of course it was fucking ghostface. you didn’t slow your steps as you made sure you were continuously around people.

“what do you want?” you ask, keeping your voice steady.

“oh, nothing much, just…maybe your head in a little parcel for your friends to find at their doorstep.”

you gulped down arising vomit, as you tried to look around you. “where would you send it first?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at passing hooded people. “sam, tara and quinn? or would it be to mindy—”

ghostface cuts you off. “what about ethan?”

you clench your jaw. “why ethan?” your steps have hurried.

“why not?” ghostface taunts. “I’d love to see his reaction to your head in a box.”

your breathing has quickened.

“would he scream? cry? or would he feel murderous.” ghostface genuinely sounds as though they’re enjoying themselves.

“ethan wouldn’t kill.”

“I suppose not.” ghostface replies. “I guess that’s more my sort of hobby.”

“where are you?” you ask, seeing too many fake ghostfaces along the street.

you quickly reach your apartment complex, rushing up the stairs before pausing at your front door, keys ready. “where are you?” you ask again. but then they hang up.

you pull the phone away from your ear, breathing harshly. you unlock the door, swiftly re-locking it with a slam. you don’t waste time to run to the kitchen to grab a knife. ghostface could be in your apartment.

holding the knife out and ready, you scrolled through your contacts, calling your friends. not one picked up.

“fuck.” you breath out.

your next contact to try was ethan. but as you were about to press call a smash could be heard from your bedroom.

whipping your head up you gripped the knife a fraction tighter. you weren’t going in there. ghostface would have to come out.

there was a moment of tense silence before another smash was heard, but this time it sounded more like a head was being thrown against a wall. you pause. a head?

you rush to your bedroom door, making sure your knife pointed straight before you turned the handle.

the door creaked open and to your surprise you saw ghostface on the floor, looking either knocked out or dead. you hoped for the latter. but when you raised your gaze you were even more shocked to see another ghostface looming over the previous. their head slowly turns to you and you let out a yelp, shutting your bedroom door in haste.

what the hell? two ghostfaces were fighting? now that you’d never seen before. you backed up as you watched the door handle twist.

“don’t—” you rasp out as ghostface appears in the doorway. they don’t step any further though, just watching you instead. “get the fuck out!” you exclaim.

ghostface tilts his head in an inspection of you. “is that a way to treat your saviour.” ghostface’s barratoned, hidden voice speaks.

“what?” you choke out, still keeping the knife at arms length.

“I can’t say I’ve saved many.” ghostface continues. they step once and you back up.

“your afraid of me?” ghostface almost sounds pleased.

“of course I’m afraid of you.”

“I’m glad.” ghostface nods. “I didn’t want you to act stupid.”

you’ve backed up into the kitchen again as your hip knocks your phone. you remember you were about to call ethan. you quickly grab it pressing call on his contact. “come on, pick up,” you mutter.

then you hear a phone ring. and it sadly wasn’t yours. you freeze, looking up to see ghostface much closer than before. you raise your knife as your ear locks onto where the sound is coming from.

your eyes dart down to ghostfaces hip. buzz, buzz, buzz. “you…” you drift off, darting your gaze back up to their face. “your not…”

your face has fallen as you just stare. then ghostface sighs, bringing out the phone. “I could have stolen this.” ghostface half heartedly tries.

“what…” your words are lodged in your throat. and that’s when ghostface pulls off their mask.

you stare straight at ethan, who’s chest is heaving from the previous fight.

you pause. “huh?” you hip hits against the counter as you keep yourself steady. ethan was fucking ghostface?

he smiles. “hi,” he has the audacity to sound genuine and sweet.

“ethan? You’ve got be kidding me.” you breath out. “w-what?”

“sorry, I didn’t really mean for you to find out this soon.” he shrugs, stepping further into the kitchen and resting his mask on the counter. you back around until your on the opposite side.

“if you didn’t want me finding out, then why did you have your phone in your pocket?” you ask warily.

“maybe…I did want you to find out, just not right here…right now.” he waves his tainted knife in the direction of your room. “that bitch thought it was ok to come kill you.”

“I kissed you!” you suddenly exclaim, just now coming to that realisation.

ethan smirked. “I was hoping you’d remember.”

you shake your head. “no, god.” you mutter, your hand tightening around the kitchen island.

“I’m glad you do remember, because shit did you taste good. even with all that extra alcohol on your tongue.”

you sucked in a breath. “if I would have known you were ghostface—”

“you would have what?” ethan cuts in. “not kissed me?”

“yes!” you exclaim.

ethan tsks, swaying his knife back and forth in disapproval as he nears you. you skirt around the island again, keeping an eye on ethan.

“I was hoping we could do that again.” he begins. “with you sober this time.”

“I’m not gonna kiss you.”

“well that’s a shame.” he rears closer, a quick step away. “but I guess I can kiss you elsewhere.” you back up, as he tauntingly stalks forward.

you shake your head, as he just nods in response. “maybe your neck?” he grabs your shirt, yanking you towards him. you scream before he’s breathing over your mouth.

“or maybe your thighs.”

as you struggle against him, he manages to twist you so that your hips collide with the kitchen island as he grabs your waist.

he leans so close, caging you in. “or maybe I can finally taste somewhere a little more…intimate.” he licks at your earlobe as you struggle against him. he grins before biting your ear. you jolt against him, certainly not used to this version of ethan.

he then leans slightly back to hover over your quivering lips. “or will you let me kiss you?” his voice has turned soft, somewhat pleading.

you breathing stutters as he licks his lips. “how bout I make you deal?”

you catch his gaze. “if you let me kiss you, I’ll leave. I understand it’s a lot to process.” he almost sounds caring and it’s making your head spin.

he tilts his head, his curls bouncing a fraction. “well?”

you gulp, glancing down at his lips. he would leave.

“how do I know your not lying?” you whisper.

“because I just saved you from getting murdered.” he pauses, reading your expression. “plus having consent turns me on a little more than not.”

you breath, watching him for a moment. then you find yourself nodding. he’ll leave.

ethan can’t help but smile as he pulls you closer. “thank you.” he whispers, sounding so gentle, before he’s smashing his lips against yours. you lean slightly back as his tongue grazes your own. the force of his desperate kiss forcing you to lean. ethan grabs at your waist, fisting your shirt as he laps at your bottom lip and tongue. you move your head with his, finding a passionate rhythm.

ethan groans into your mouth as you both become just teeth and tongues. he finally pulls away, breathless.

you breath heavy as you place your hands behind you on the counter. both of your chests are heaving, but just as ethan had said he backed away, grabbing his mask and placing it over his head again.

•

•

•

holly ~ fuck I’m starting too many new stories. I need to finish part two’s. ahhh

🏷️ @ummmmwhatsblog

Steve : Rob, did you maybe .. I don’t know, Feel straight in the upside down ?

Robin : What.

Steve : You know, because everything is flipped ?

Robin : It doesn’t work like that Steve.

Steve : I don’t know, the way Eddie was staring at me.. I felt pretty gay.

Last Man Alive:

Table of Contents

I update every 4-5 days

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Is my writing that shitty that nobody asks me to write things? Damn

DON’T OPEN THE DOOR

Could you do one where the reader doesn't smoke or like the smell of cigs and eddie tries not to smoke around her? Bc I think he would be that kind of boyfriend ): even if the reader doesn't really care he tries his best

for you ♡ gn!reader | 0.6k words

Eddie's sitting with his legs kicked out on the back door. You lean against the wall behind him and cross your arms over your chest. 

"Whatcha doing?" you ask quietly, a little worried that he'd left for the bathroom and hadn't made it back yet. 

He flinches in surprise and almost burns himself with the cigarette held between his fingers as he drops his head back to look at you upside down. "Fancy seeing you here." 

You grin and gesture for him to move over so you can sit beside him. He looks reluctant to let you, shuffling slowly to the side. You stretch your legs out over the steps, the cold threshold biting through your pajama pants to hurt your thighs. 

"It's freezing out here, Eds." 

He flicks ash into an ashtray to his left, body faced away from you. "I don't feel it like you do." 

You snort. "Why, you got some super power I don't know about that keeps you warm?" 

"Something like that." 

You smile at him and drop your face against your shoulder to look up at the black sky searchingly. There, nestled, a blinking pulse behind ribs, a single white star. You lean toward Eddie to point it out with your hand already aloft and he moves away from you. 

You stare at him. His face is unyielding.

"Eddie, have I done something?" Your hurt feelings echo.

His laugh is uneasy. "Why would you think that?" he asks, an attempt at casualness that doesn't work. 

"I don't know," you say, sounding likely more mad than you ever have with him, the sting of his rejection blistering, "because my boyfriend keeps disappearing and now he won't let me touch him?" 

Eddie stubs his cigarette out blindly, reaching for your forearm. He curls his fingers around your pulse point with an apologetic smile. "You can touch me whenever you want." 

You huff and look down at your feet. "Whatever," you mumble. There's obviously something he's not saying and that's fine, if he doesn't want to tell you he doesn't have to, but you don't have to pretend everything's okay either. 

"Sweetheart." 

You force your knees together, cold and annoyed. 

"Sweetheart." 

"Eddie, if I did something wrong-" 

"You didn't, I swear, I- I just don't want to smoke around you, okay? That's why I'm out here. It's not to get away from you. I'm just… putting space between you and the cigs," he tries, voice lilting up hopefully. 

His thumb smooths over your wrist. 

You peek up at him and feel a little better when he looks genuinely sorry. "What?" 

"Passive smoking is really bad for you." 

You look between both of his eyes. "So you're not mad at me?" 

"For what?" he tugs your arm until your shoulders shake. "Oh. Actually, I'm furious. Have you realised you're getting prettier lately? It's weird, 'cos personally I didn't think you could get any prettier, but-" 

"Oh god," you say, dropping your head into his shoulder. 

"That's what I thought, too." 

You hide your smile in his t-shirt sleeve. "I don't care if you smoke around me. I can't say I like the smell, but…" 

He works his fingers between yours and leans towards you like you're telling secrets. "Well, you know, I kind of care. A lot. About you." 

"I know." 

"I should fucking hope so." 

You rub your face into his arm and he drops his head on top of yours, the two of you looking up at the same time.

"See that one?" he murmurs. 

"To the left?" 

"Yeah." 

"Yeah, I see it." 

He dots a kiss against your forehead, smelling a little of smoke and a lot like everything else, his sandalwood and deodorant, his last cup of coffee. The star blink-blink-blinks.

Request: Edward comes home from work to find his goofy little Reader playing around and wearing his Riddler outfit. They're pretending to be him, acting out a "murder" scene where he kills a "corrupt official" (in reality, they're just hitting a teddy bear with the carpet tool).

Incredible embarrassment ensues when they hear Eddie giggling behind them.

a corrupted toy

pairing — dano!edward nashton/reader

warnings — teddy bear violence

a/n — all i could picture while writing this was eddie’s beautiful smile. had me blushin’ n’ gigglinnnn’ ｡•́‿•̀｡ hope you enjoy anon!! (next request will be posted tonight!)

“..And so I said, yknow, you can’t say that to me and—and then..”

A small stuffed toy sat on the couch, positioned to look directly at the bright screen. It’s beady eyes had a glare as it sat so very still. The animal was extremely focused on the reality show built on wealth and fame. It was loved by many.

But the TV was only background noise for what was to come.

“..Ohhh my goshh! That is so terrible..”

From behind the couch stood a figure in green. You had every piece of the Riddler’s outfit on—all except his clear-framed glasses. Those were with Edward, who had gone on a small shopping trip for you. You handed him a short list and gave him a loving kiss on the cheek. He couldn’t have left the apartment any quicker.

It’d been sometime since. You had to go get dressed—properly, cling wrap and triple layered. If you were going to experiment and get the perfect feel of what being the Riddler was like, you had to go all out. You found it more difficult than it seemed, which dwindled the time you had before Edward would return home.

But you couldn’t think about all that now, not with the corrupt teddy bear sitting on your couch. The sight of it made you take a deep breath. It sat there, watching the most obnoxious and meaningless show to ever air. Who paid the bills? You and your Eddie.

Breathing getting heavier with each inhale, you went for the attack.

With a shriek, you grabbed the teddy bears head and flung it to the side. The toy landed snout first, arms and legs spread. As if it’d move and fight back, you quickly slid onto your knees and crawled over. A carpet tucker was in your palm, tightly held so it wouldn’t ever leave your grasp.

“…Ha-haaaa, I would’ve done the same thing. No—I swear!”

The teddy bear was struck with the tool, over and over and over. It was old and the thread was weak, so there wasn’t much surprise when stuffing came flying out. A mess of poly-fil began to surround you.

All you could hear was the ripping and your own breathing. Moving was a hassle and tremendously sweaty. It fueled your anger as you tore the teddy bear to shreds.

“..Has anyone seen her? We’ve been waiting for sooo long, ohmygoshh..”

A snicker comes from afar before it developed into giggles. You could almost hear it over your grunts and the tucker hitting the floor..

Edward’s sweet giggles.

You whip around, startled from the sudden noise. The carpet tucker drops with a clank.

Edward stands at the entrance of the hallway, back towards the end. He held a couple of plastic bags in one hand.

Despite his adoring smile, you were floored with embarrassment.

“What are you doing?” he continues to giggle, eyes fixed on the scene before him.

You were at a loss. You couldn’t move, you refused to even glance away. Every part of you was clammy and warm. Suddenly the uncomfortableness of being in the Riddler’s position hit you.

“I..” your mouth was dry. How could you answer him without sounding like a fool? Even with that thought, you said what immediately came to mind, “..I was tucking in the carpet.”

Edward snorts and takes a step forward. He reaches over to set the bags on the couch before cutting the distance between you. Before another thought could cross your mind, Edward was getting on his knees to meet your level. Your eyes were blown wide but he felt invisible under your gaze.

Carefully, Edward reached to take his mask. Your eyes followed his hands yet you didn’t fight him off. Fingers hooked to the straps, Edward pulled off the green mask to reveal your overheated, damp face. You tilt your head down instantly, knowing you looked ridiculous.

Edward suppressed a lovesick grin at your shyness. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, he was too bewitched.

“You’re gorgeous,” he sighs tenderly, mask forgotten on the ground. Edward ducks, hopeful he can get a good look at you with the positions you’re both in. You saw a hint of a smile on him.

“You make it all look so, so good..”

“Oh, Eddie..”

“Oh, angeleyes,” Edward’s infectious giggle returns, making the corners of your mouth tug, “..what did he do?”

You take a glance up at Edward. A wave of confusion tickled you, until you remembered the mess underneath you.

“Oh, uh…the usual. Corruption, greed. Maybe with a side of pride.”

Edward’s eyes flicker over to the TV, and you felt embarrassment crawl back into your core.

Your head turns towards the TV, “..He enjoyed The Kardashians a little too much.”

“What a menace.”

You can’t help but weakly laugh at Edward’s comment. He was charming, especially when he played the part with you.

Edward took your chin in one hand and leaned in for a kiss. He made a pleasant noise against your lips, making it transparent over how much he loved the contact. All you could do was melt.

When he pulled back, Edward extended his arm to get the cling wrap off of your head. He was gentle, not wanting to make the process uncomfortable in anyway. Once it was off, he set it to the side.

“Do you have the duct tape?” he asks in all seriousness. You nod, a little lost. You dig into his parka and pull out the roll of duct tape.

Edward hums as he picked at the tape and stretched out a long piece.

“We’ll start with the eyes.”

having a grocery list filled with fruits and vegetables and taking your trophy husband Eddie along who picks up every vegetable and says "is this *insert item on your list*?" and you just have to giggle and be like "no baby" and he pulls a "ah. i'm close though right?" signature smirk and cute little peck on the lips before he's onto the next display of veggies

Oh my god shut up shut up shut up. This is my fucking kink.

Eddie’s holding up an avocado and you’re like “babe we’re making Italian food tonight.”

“Does that makes a difference?” He asks, looking down at the unripe avocado in his hand. You smile at him so patiently that he laughs.

“Avocados are great with Mexican food…not so much for pasta. You know what, though? Grab some. We’ll make guacamole tomorrow.”

Eddie’s smile is so wide his face can barely contain it. He grabs a few avocados - but not before you explain how to pick out the perfect one, not too soft and not too hard - and gently places them in the cart. You move on to the next part of the produce section, trusty list in hand, but before you can select the perfect head of garlic Eddie’s arms are winding around your waist and his chin is resting in the dip of your shoulder.

“What is it, baby?” you ask, laughing at his tight grip. He places a fat, wet kiss on your cheek before speaking quietly in your ear.

“Thanks for taking care of me, Princess.”

The words send chills throughout your body. Chills that are 50% romantic and 50% deeply inappropriate for the current grocery store setting. You turn your head to do your best and look over your shoulder at him.

“You’re the one who takes care of me, Eddie.” You say it definitively and with a slowly spreading smile on your face. It makes Eddie’s knees feel weak, so he tightens his hold on you in order to stay grounded.

“So what you’re saying is we complete each other. Like some fairytale shit?” He leans down and drags his nose up the line of your cheek and you giggle, clutching onto him.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” you agree, before planting a deep kiss right on his lips - a kiss that’s probably offending every grandmother and house wife perusing the produce beside you.

Eddie is the one to pull away first, chuckling when you try to put your tongue in his mouth. His fingers caress the skin exposed between the hem of your top and the upper edge of your pants.

“Okay, before I fuck you in this grocery store, please, for the love of god, tell me what’s next on the list.”

“Remember how I taught you to pick out onions?” You ask, rubbing a stray bit of your lipstick which has transferred to the corner of his mouth. Eddie straightens dramatically and with purpose.

“How many onions do you require, my lady?”