#dominic/edward: maybe a little bit...

[bower-quinn]

Grease and Glances

You're Steve Harrington’s little sister—and secretly crushing on Eddie Munson for weeks. But a broken bike brings you closer. Closer than you ever imagined. From strangers to friends to lovers. fluffy, description of sex, 18+, smut Watch out! There are severeal chapters.

<- Chapter One <- Chapter Two <- Chapter Three <- Chapter Four <- Chapter Five <- Chapter Six <- Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Your worries — and by extension, Eddie’s — are completely unnecessary. Your parents greet Wayne and Eddie warmly — not condescending or merely polite, but genuinely open. Your mother takes Wayne’s coat, your father pats Eddie on the shoulder.

“Nice to finally meet you, Edward!”

“Eddie, sir. Just Eddie.”

Steve appears in the doorway — holding a glass of wine and a mug of cocoa, wearing a crooked grin.

“Wine for you, Wayne, and cocoa for Eddie,” he says, handing over the drinks. You feel a rush of genuine love. Compared to Steve, you feel clumsy with people. Steve has a way of winning everyone over and easing any tension.

Both men thank him, and Wayne takes a sip of his wine.

“Wow,” he exclaims, “that’s delicious!”

“Thanks,” your father replies, sounding like he personally produced the wine rather than overpaying for it. “It’s French! Do you like wine, Wayne?”

Wayne tilts his head. “Sure, but I usually prefer a beer.”

“See, darling,” your father says, turning to your mother with mock reproach, “I told you we could’ve had a few beers together!”

You laugh as your mother rolls her eyes. “You can’t drink beer with roast, come on.”

“Come on,” Steve murmurs to you all, “we should show Eddie the house.”

Eddie glances at you briefly, as if to check if you’re okay with that. You nod gently and wink. He follows Steve hesitantly, while you stay back — just a little. You want to see how he reacts to all this.

Steve leads the way like an overenthusiastic tour guide.

“So,” he begins, opening a pair of double doors, “we’ll start with the living room. This is where we watch movies. From now on, you have to come to our legendary movie nights!”

“Steve makes the best cheese sauce for the nachos,” you add with a grin.

Eddie steps inside and freezes. The ceilings are high, the windows tall and elegant. Thick curtains framed in burgundy and gold. A massive fireplace dominates the far wall, above it a painting that looks like it belongs in a museum. The sofas look more suited for guests than comfort, but warm fairy lights hang everywhere, and the large Christmas tree sparkles in full glory.

“Wow,” Eddie murmurs. You can see him trying not to look like a kid in a toy store. But you know the look: he’s impressed. Maybe a bit intimidated.

“Let’s keep going,” Steve says, perhaps to break the tension, and leads him down a broad hallway, past a music room — yes, an entire room with a piano, shelves full of vinyl records, and a dusty saxophone on a stand.

“That’s the dining room down there — but we’ll all go in together. Come on, I’ll show you upstairs.”

Eddie glances back at you before heading up the stairs. You smile — and follow quietly behind. You love seeing him like this. Curious, cautious, and yet with that spark in his eyes.

Upstairs, Steve shows the bathroom first — huge, with marble tiles and a bathtub you could probably swim in.

“If the feast knocks you out — just float in here,” Steve jokes.

Eddie forces a grin. You can see him trying to take it all in. The hallways are long, lined with dressers, photos, crystal vases, books. It’s not flashy — but it’s… a lot. Your parents have always been collectors.

“And now,” Steve says, stopping at a set of double doors, “the epicenter. My room.”

He swings them open dramatically — revealing: action movie posters, an unmade bed, a guitar in the corner, a shelf half-filled with VHS tapes, and a sneaker collection.

“Okay… I didn’t expect that,” Eddie says, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” Steve exclaims, offended. “I’ve got style!”

“Your style,” you emphasize the word, “is collecting things — just like Mom and Dad.”

“You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man,” he shoots back.

You chuckle and step closer. “And finally,” Steve says with a wink, “the room you’re only allowed in if you don’t screw up.”

Eddie gives him a questioning look. “Her room,” Steve says, opening your door with an almost reverent gesture.

You step in together. Your room feels like a peaceful retreat compared to the rest of the house — cozy, warm, a little messy, but full of personality. Photos and handwritten notes hang on the wall, your bed is neatly made, books and a half-finished cup of tea sit on your nightstand. The fairy lights around your mirror cast a gentle glow.

Eddie pauses and slowly looks around. And you see it in his face — curiosity. Maybe even a touch of emotion.

“I never thought I’d be standing in your room on Christmas,” he says.

You can’t help grinning. Time to throw him off just a little. You step close, lean toward him, your lips near his ear. Your voice a whisper.

“We were going to end up here eventually,” you say.

Eddie freezes. His eyes widen, his cheeks flush deep red.

Steve, a few steps behind, looking at a poster on your wall, frowns and glances over.

“You alright? You’re turning red,” he observes dryly.

Eddie clears his throat quickly. “All good! Just… warm in here, I think…”

You bite your lip, grinning. Steve rolls his eyes but says nothing. Just as he’s about to speak, your mother calls from downstairs:

“Kids! Gift time!”

Steve claps his hands. “Well then, let’s go open presents!”

Eddie takes a moment before moving. And you feel his hand brush against yours — like he’s making sure this is really happening.

It is. And it’s beautiful.

Before dinner is served, the family gathers in the living room. The tree sparkles, gifts stacked neatly beneath it. You sit on the floor next to Eddie, Wayne takes a spot on the couch.

It begins with small gifts — books, wine, cookies.

Then Eddie hands your father a rolled-up voucher. “For you and your wife. Three days, Pickerel Point Lake. With me and Wayne. Fresh fish, terrible music, great beer.”

Your father laughs. “Best gift since I passed my fishing license in ’72.”

Wayne gives Steve a package. “Homemade.”

Steve opens it. A green, knitted sweater — simple and perfect. “Oh man. I… wow. This is amazing. I’m putting it on right now.”

And he does. Now you two match. And it suits him better than that tacky Christmas sweater.

Then Eddie hands you the small package he’s been carrying all evening. It’s small. Light.

You open it slowly. A ring. Silver. Matte. His.

You inhale sharply. And then — without warning — tears stream down your cheeks.

Eddie looks alarmed. “Is… is it too much? I didn’t mean to—” “No,” you whisper. “It’s… perfect.”

You kiss him. Gently. In front of everyone.

Wayne beams. Steve half-turns away, muttering something about “too much romance before dinner.”

You take Eddie’s hand. The ring fits perfectly on your thumb — the skull ring you always thought was the coolest. You love the gift, truly. But when you let go of his hand, it suddenly looks… bare. Unfamiliar. A thought plants itself: next time, you’ll get him one too. Something to accompany him like this ring now does you.

Then comes the brief flicker of doubt. What if your gift doesn’t compare?

With a hesitant smile, you take the package from your bag and hand it to him. “Here. I… I hope it’s okay.”

Eddie frowns in curiosity, takes it carefully, as if fragile. Then opens it, flips through the book. His fingers glide over the pages, slow, almost reverent. You watch as his eyes widen.

“This… this is a campaign,” he says, almost in disbelief.

You nod, more nervous than you expected. “I wrote it myself. The maps, the illustrations — I made them too. If you don’t like it, that’s totally okay. You don’t have to play it.”

Eddie looks up, eyes intense. “Not like it?” he cries, voice cracking with emotion. “This is insane! This is— this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten!”

You laugh with relief. And something ignites in you — like fireworks. Warm, bright, and just a little bit magical. You wonder if this is what love feels like.

Then comes the big gift: Your parents hand Wayne an envelope. You've never seen them this nervous. They glance at each other, then at Wayne and Eddie, like students giving a presentation.

You exchange a look with Steve, but he shrugs. Neither of you knows what’s inside.

Wayne opens it, and the light smile on his face vanishes — replaced by disbelief and shock.

“We didn’t know what to get you,” your dad says quickly, “so we thought—” “We thought,” your mom continues, “a new trailer… if that’s not too much.”

She looks to you, seeking reassurance that this gift isn’t overstepping.

“It’s more modern,” your dad says quickly, “warmer, and bigger. You don’t have your own bedroom, Wayne, so…”

He trails off, staring at Wayne.

“That,” Wayne says after a long pause, “is the best gift I’ve had in years. Since the day I got to take in my boy.”

His eyes glisten with tears. Eddie buries his face in your shoulder.

Wayne swallows hard. Then he slowly gets up and hugs your mom, then your dad.

“How can I… we ever thank you?”

“Barbecue,” your dad says immediately. “Invite us for barbecue and a few beers!”

“For heaven’s sake, Dad,” Steve groans. But you laugh — everything feels just right. Especially Eddie, still pressed against you, his hair brushing your neck. You don’t want it to end.

A little bell signals that the roast is ready. Everyone gets up and heads to the dining room. Eddie starts to follow but you grab his hand.

He looks at you, puzzled. You hesitate, then whisper: “If you want… I mean, only if you want… you can stay here tonight. With me.”

At first, Eddie looks at you blankly. Then his eyes go wide, pupils dilated, mouth falling open. He makes a sound that’s equal parts surprise and excitement — but there’s so much air in it, it sounds like a groan.

When your eyes wander downward — you had a feeling — you realize it was a groan.

“Oh,” you say with a cheeky grin. “Well, that was fast.”

He follows your gaze and flushes deep red, quickly covering himself. “Give me five seconds. I’m just a man!” he whispers.

You grab his hand, laughing. “Come on, Romeo. Dinner should distract you.”

The big table is set with silver candles, shiny glass baubles, and steaming dishes. Your mom made turkey, five sauces in elegant bowls, homemade nutmeg mashed potatoes, and Wayne keeps murmuring, “like on TV.”

Eddie sits across from you — every time your eyes meet, your heart skips. You catch him staring at you now and then, fork mid-air, mouth slightly open. Wayne nudges him discreetly each time.

Steve cracks his usual jokes, your dad shares an old fishing story, and you laugh as Eddie drinks from Wayne’s wineglass. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice — but Eddie is clearly embarrassed.

At one point, Wayne leans over to Eddie and whispers: “Son, you’re looking at her like she’s the last bus out of Hawkins.”

Eddie turns bright red. You notice. And you like it. A lot.

After dinner, everything winds down into a warm afterglow. Your mom takes dishes to the kitchen, your dad pours generous wine, and Steve lounges on the couch like he owns the place, a third slice of cake on his chest.

Wayne has settled into one of the big armchairs with a glass of red wine. He seems more relaxed than when he arrived — and you can tell he feels at home, even if he’d never admit it.

“I have to say,” he begins, lifting his glass, “I haven’t eaten this well in ages. And once, I was at a Thanksgiving where the host made eight sides. Eight. One had marshmallows and meat in it.”

Your dad laughs. “My wife only makes five sides — but at least they all taste good.”

“I can confirm,” Steve mumbles with his mouth full, “even the green beans spiritually changed me a little.”

Wayne snorts. “The boy’s got taste. Who knew?”

Steve grins smugly as your mother returns and sits with you.

“Wayne, I’m really glad you’re here. It’s… lovely having you and Eddie.”

Wayne looks at her, suddenly serious and sincere. “Thank you, ma’am. That means a lot. Especially because I know this isn’t a given.”

“Maybe not for everyone,” your father adds calmly, “but it is for us. It’s how you behave that matters, not where you come from.”

Wayne smiles. A small, honest smile, like a light flickering in the dusk. Then he leans back and sighs. “Guess I’m just glad Eddie didn’t burst in here cursing.”

“The night’s not over yet,” Steve mutters, and you nudge his leg.

Eddie sits quietly beside you, watching it all almost reverently. When your dad offers him a sip of wine, he politely declines — Wayne watches this with pride.

Your mom smirks. “Well… if this was a job interview, you passed, Wayne.”

Wayne raises a brow. “I even made the boy brush his hair. I gave it everything I had.”

Everyone laughs — and in that moment, it feels like this isn’t just a visit, but something more. A small piece of home.

After his fifth slice of cake — your mom won’t stop offering and Wayne won’t say no — he slowly gets up.

“Well, I should head out. My bed is calling. No, screaming for me.”

Steve gets up and claps him on the shoulder. “I’ll get your jacket. Don’t want you getting lost in our mansion-maze.”

“I found the fridge. That’s all the orientation I need,” Wayne replies dryly.

Steve returns with his coat — and his car keys. “I’ll drive you, Wayne. Just in case.”

Every time you think you can’t love your brother more, he does something that shows his selfless heart.

Wayne nods, looking grateful. He does seem a little unsteady.

Before leaving, he turns back to your parents. “I don’t really know how to say it right, but… thank you. For today. For making us feel welcome.”

Your mom stands, steps forward, and squeezes his hand. “You raised Eddie. That was thanks enough.”

Your heart glows — and you can tell Eddie feels the same. He’s never been praised this much in his life.

Wayne nods, visibly moved. Then he looks at you – his gaze soft, full of unspoken words. It’s clear to everyone that Eddie will be staying with you tonight; no one needs to say it out loud.

Then his eyes shift to Eddie. “Walk your old uncle to the door, will you?”

Eddie stands and follows Steve and Wayne. Steve opens the door and heads to the car, giving the two of them a little privacy. Wayne brushes off his coat while Eddie lingers beside him, uncertain. He pulls him into a hug, claps him firmly on the back – and at the same time, slips something discreetly into his hand. Eddie glances at it. A small silver foil packet. Or… several.

Wayne leans in close: “I know it’s embarrassing. But smart is better than embarrassed, kid.”

Eddie gives a shaky nod. “Thanks… Wayne.”

He returns to the living room, and you immediately feel that something about him has shifted. He seems stirred up somehow. You wonder what Wayne might have said to him. But you don’t want to ask in front of your parents.

You’re both sitting on the couch, your parents across from you in their armchairs. The fire crackles softly, and the warm glow of the Christmas lights paints gentle patterns on the walls. It all feels a bit like a movie – only more real, quieter, in a way that makes your heart feel just a little bit warmer.

Final Chapter ->

₊ ˚ ✩ ｡˚ ˚☽

@walleloveseve

@jeangeniex

@cheesesandwichsanto

@your-nightmaredoll

@foreveranexpatsposts

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@littlemissholy

[capr1pengu1n]

Hi! Hihihi! big fan here!

I am fiending for something mouth watering, torturing, jaw dropping smutty fun with our boy from Assault on Arkham. Female reader please. Maybe she's a nurse working a shift at Arkham or a therapist or care tech? I'm just seeing total domination, daddydom/zaddy type vibes. But feel free to do whatever you feel.

Thank you for your time and consideration!!

Tata~!

Corrupting the young with your uncivil tongue

Summary: While on shift at Arkham Asylum, what should be a routine check on an injured inmate turns into something a whole lot more.

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem reader (no use of y/n), Assault on Arkham!Eddie, dom/sub dynamics, praise and degradation, choking, rough sex, fingering, face fucking

Words: 4.4k

Notes: Thank you so much sweetheart, you're too kind! This gave me an excuse to rewatch his scenes on yt (mgg really is one of the perfect voice actors for him, even with his sometimes dodgy vocal deliveries)

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Being a nurse meant seeing the truly ugly side of Arkham Asylum; the dangerous patients always being one movement away from lashing out at times. You didn't mind your job, in fact it was rather rewarding at times to help those you could, being able to feel as if you were making a difference in this cesspool of a city.

But many of the inmates you knew you couldn't trust, dangerous criminal masterminds who were constantly using Gotham City as a battleground for their many wars with the batman. And you knew deep down that The Riddler was one of those men. But still, he'd been nothing but...kind.

Well, maybe kind is a little bit too strong of a word. But he'd always been one of your better patients, never giving you too much trouble. And you couldn't deny the tiny part of you that lit up when you saw his name on your rota, no matter how much you pushed the feeling down in the crevices of your mind. His snarky smile would always be waiting for you when you administered the pills that he most likely just hid under his tongue, or to patch him up whenever his big mouth got him into trouble.

It seems today was one of those days, as you made your way to the rather empty infirmary and saw Edward laying in bed, flicking through a book without a care with one hand, the other handcuffed to the side. The doctor that saw to him had been rushed off his feet, rumblings of a mass riot causing all of the staff to be more overworked that usual, if that was even possible for a place like this. Still, you stood by his bed and closed the privacy curtain.

"There you are sweetheart, I was beginning to believe i'd been forgotten about. A distressing thought, i'll have you know."

You can't help but laugh softly at his dramatics, as he lowers the book to his side to give you a look at his face. A cut was across his cheek, not overly deep.

"Ah yes, this. Well that'll teach me not to display my mental superiority at dinner time, lest i'm slashed again. I really should have enacted some sort of revenge before one of the idiotic guards blundered in."

"Does it hurt?"

"Nothing more than a scratch, my dear."

There's that smile again, self-satisfied and smug, but with a hint of something else. He adjusts himself so he's sat more upright, watching with sharp eyes as you look through his medical chart, not missing the slight confusion on your features.

"Does anywhere else hurt?"

"If i say my chest, will I get to remove this horrid jumpsuit?"

You flush in spite of yourself, laughing softly at his insinuation which delights him greatly. Placing the chart down, you look back at him as he adjusts himself yet again.

"I see no reason why you'd need to stay, I can call for you to be escorted back to your cell now."

"Yes about that," he starts, looking around in a dramatic manner, "why is there no guard here anyway? Don't tell me they hardly see me as a threat? I'll have you know I-"

Shaking your head, you interrupt him. "No no, there's rumors of a riot starting. Everyone is on high alert. And it seems that there's a mistake on your chart...it says you have a broken leg. I doubt they thought you'd get very far."

The momentary annoyance of being interrupted dissipated when he heard your words, and he lets out a bark of a laugh.

"Oh the ineptitude of these fools truly never fails to amuse me." With a smirk, he tilts his head as he looks at you before continuing. "But i'm sure a girl like you wouldn't have made a mistake like that."

At his praise, you can't help the flush of pride that swirls in your chest despite who he is, as you smile softly. Pleased with the way you respond, he reaches up and gently tugs you closer to the bed by your arm.

"Does it take truly so little to flatter you?" he asks, causing you to look away for a moment before he squeezes your arm. "No. Look at me."

You do as he says, looking at his eyes through his glasses, before nodding a little. "I guess not..."

"Pity." he murmurs, looking at your chest unashamedly. "I'd have thought you'd be used to compliments, looking like that."

You feel the embarrassment and excitement bubble up in you at his words, despite your better judgement, despite the fact that a criminal mastermind is flirting with you and you like it. Forcing yourself to clear your head, you glance away yet again.

"Thank you."

"No problem darling."

Before turning to leave, he coughs slightly to get your attention.

"Hold on a moment. You really think it's a good idea to go out there? You said it yourself, a riot could break out at any moment." he declares, his eyes firmly fixed on yours.

"Well...yes. I could always go with the guards, they'd protect me."

"I could protect you." he says without missing a beat, without blinking. The look of shock must be evident on your face as you look at him.

"Why would you do that?"

"Why do I do anything?" he challenges, the rattle of the handcuff cutting through the room.

"...you do things when they benefit you." you say softly, trying to match his gaze.

"Exactly. Or maybe I want to protect the pretty nurse who always turns a blind eye when I don't swallow my pills."

"I-I don't-"

"Don't lie sweetheart, it doesn't suit you."

Hesitating, you glance down to where his hand is cuffed to the bed. This is a bad idea, an awful idea and you know it. But your apprehension is delicious to him, and he leans in as best he can.

"And you like the idea, don't you? Of The Riddler's protection?"

You swallow audibly, not denying his accusation. "I can't...i'm not Harley Quinn or anything, i'm not gonna go running off with a psycho-"

"Don't call me that." he snaps harshly, his tone serious and even making you flinch a little. Upon realising, he clears his throat a little in an attempt to calm down. "I'm not trying to dump you in a vat of acid to prove your devotion darling. I'm simply saying I could protect you."

Upon being under your gaze yet again, he puts on a smirk. "Besides, I'm not blind. The way you look at me is quite different than the way the other dimwitted orderlies do. It's...refreshing."

You release a breath, shaky and slow as you weigh up your options here. If a riot does break out...he probably could protect you. And it's not like he has any reason to harm you, right? Nodding slightly, you try and come up with some pathetic excuse before he interrupts you.

"What time is it?"

Slightly bewildered by the question, you glance at your small watch and reply, "About 7."

He hums, rolling his neck. "Might be a good idea to get me out of these handcuffs sweetheart."

Frowning, you go to ask him why before the power goes out. The room is plunged into darkness, causing you to jump at the sharp noise of the lights going. Frantically you stumble to try and head backwards before you feel a hand grasp at your waist, and suddenly you're pressed against a man's broad chest.

"Okay, I may have lied about needing your help to get out of the cuffs." Edward murmurs, before laughing smugly.

Panic sets in as you scramble to get away from him, but he only laughs harder and uses both hands to hold you still.

"Oh please stop struggling. You know I could overpower you. But I meant what I said darling, I'll protect you." he coos into your ear, and you can feel the satisfaction radiating from his smile in waves as he lets go of your arm.

"Now, be a good girl and barricade the door when the lights come back on."

"How do you know the light's will-"

With a bang, the lights come back on, and on instinct you follow his instructions. Regardless of the morally dubious actions of the serial killer you've found yourself with, you know how bloody Arkham riots can get, so self preservation wins out as you take a chair and push it against the door. Barricading yourself in with The Riddler.

He watches you carefully, half expecting you to make a run for it, but being slightly relieved when you trail back to him. "Good."

"How did you know when the lights would go off?"

"You're a smart girl darling, figure it out."

He must have known about the riot, hell he might have planned it. But what you couldn't understand was...

"You planned the riot, or at least knew. But why aren't..." you pause, as he steps closer, too close, "why aren't you trying to escape?"

He chuckles, lifting his hand to cup your chin. "Oh you naive girl. You think I orchestrated this just to escape? Perhaps I was wrong about you, or perhaps you're just too modest."

Observing the look of realisation on your face, he strokes his thumb along your cheekbone. "You can't taste it until you undress it, what am I?"

You can't deny the hitch in your breath at his, albeit cheesy riddle, which causes him to laugh more. "The answer isn't what you're probably thinking, but it's still an apt description of what I want to do to you."

What he wants to do to you. That's all you can hear rattling away in your brain as you let him stroke your cheek, down to the side of your neck.

"And trust me my dear, I want to do a lot of things to you."

"Like what?" you ask, the words spitting out without processing, but he smirks anyway.

"You want me to tell you? Tell you how much I want to dominate you completely? Have you completely at my mercy, as this whole asylum tears itself apart from the inside on my orders?"

You couldn't suppress the small whimper that escapes your lips even if you tried, as you nod your head. Instead, he moves his hand to wrap around your throat, slender fingers gently squeezing.

"How about I show you?" he rasps out, before slamming his lips against yours. It's all consuming, the way he keeps you still with his grip as his tongue forces it's way into your mouth. He explores every inch, reveling in the small moans he swallows as he uses his other hand to grab your hips, pulling you against him so you can feel the bulge straining against the garish orange jumpsuit.

"Get on your knees." he growls out against your lips, and you drop obediently. "Good girl, you're learning your place."

Not deterred by his condescending words, you gaze up at him as his fingers fiddle with the zipper of his jumpsuit, freeing himself after a moment. Your eyes immediately dart to his hard cock, watching as he pumps himself a few times and gently rests it on your cheek.

"A man can get certain...urges in a place like this. A lesser man would have probably resorted to his own hand to achieve momentary gratification, but I knew...I knew if I waited, victory would be all the more sweet."

He taps his cock on your lips, and you open and let your tongue gently run along the head. Gritting his teeth, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls, keeping you still and not allowing you the privilege of tasting him just yet.

"Ask me nicely. Tell me you've wanted me the same way." he demands.

"I've wanted you." you reply, staring up and giving him the most pleading expression you can muster. "I've always been attracted to you, I've always wanted you Edward."

He groans quietly, running his cock along your lips once again, humming appreciatively as you seem to have learnt your lesson in keeping your tongue to yourself.

"I do love you saying my name. But I think a different word is in order, after all, i'm here protecting you."

You know he's desperate for validation, desperate to feel superior and in control, but god you want to give it to him so badly.

"I've always wanted you sir." you ammend.

"That or 'master' will do." he smirks down at you, before tapping his dick against your lips deliberately. Getting the hint, you open up and let him push your head. Luckily he gives you the grace to not shove his whole length down your throat, pushing you halfway before letting you set the pace. You get to work immediately, bobbing your head as you suck, blinking up at him to observe his reactions.

You can't deny he looks stunning, his frown and brow lines relaxing as he lets you service him, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment to truly indulge in your wet mouth. He'd been in Arkham a few weeks now, and if what he said about relieving himself was true, it really had been a while since he felt such carnal pleasure.

As he opens his eyes again, he looks down at you once more, stroking your hair as you moan softly around his cock. While he certainly isn't going to admit it, he's relieved you were so eager to get on your knees for him, happy he got the signals right, happy he wouldn't have to admit that his lust was unrequited, what's he thinking, he's the riddler! Any woman would be lucky to have him, he's a specimen -

His thoughts are stopped when you push further, taking him deeper into your throat before pulling away for breath, taking him in your soft hand and jerking him. He let's out a slightly higher pitched noise, before growling and gripping your hair with both hands.

"Arms behind your back dear, let's see if I was right to choose you."

You do what he instructs, taking a deep breath before he pushes his cock into your willing mouth. This time he doesn't hold back, holding you in place as he thrusts shallowly into your mouth, before pushing deeper. Suppressing the urge to gag, you moan brokenly around him as your fingernails dig into your own arms, willing against your body's natural instinct to put your hands on his thighs and push against him. Instead you behave, letting him fuck your mouth and take his pleasure from you.

The look on your face has him getting close rather quick for his liking, but he's way too desperate to care. Glazed eyes, spit covered lips and chin from where his cock is pushing out your saliva, he thinks you look gorgeous. His one hand remains in your hair as his other grips your jaw.

"So good for me...fuck, almost makes me wish I hadn't had those idiots cut power to the cameras in here. Seeing my favourite nurse choking on my cock..."

He moans softly, cock pulsing as he gets nearer his climax. Rhythm faltering, he desperately ruts into your throat, wanting to cum so badly it almost hurts. All the while he's mumbling and muttering how slutty you are, how much this is usually beneath him, how good your mouth feels until-

"I'm gonna cum, you're gonna, shit, swallow it...swallow it all." he demands, before his hips still as he pumps his cum down your throat. Choking, you do your best to swallow all he gives you before he releases the death grip on your hair. You pull away and gasp shallowly for oxygen.

"What do you say?" he says condescendingly, although you don't miss the laboured breathing that betrays his excitement.

"Thank you." you start, but the firm tap on your cheek gives you the incentive to rephrase, "Thank you sir."

"Better. You know how few people can say they've had the privilege of The Riddler fucking their face?"

Despite how fucked up morally you know it is, you can't help but feel slight pride at his words, knowing that it's you who he chose to sleep with. He tugs you up by the arm, before humming and squishing your cheeks together, tilting your face from side to side as he appraises you.

"How about you lay on the bed." he says, and despite the phrasing, you can infer from his tone that he's not asking. So you do, hearing the cheap infirmary bed creak as you lay down. Outside you can vaguely hear noises, yells and chants mostly, but you try your best to tune it out as Edward makes quick work of ridding you of your nurse uniform. He gives a wolf whistle, smirking shamelessly.

"Not bad at all." he mumbles, which you assume is quite high praise for him, as he gropes your tits roughly. "I knew I wasn't wrong to have been taken by your looks. It's a bonus you have half a brain in there somewhere."

Feeling a little mean, he gives one of your breasts a sharp slap, grinning as you flinch and squirm. He repeats the motion, and again for a third time on the other one, before soothingly massaging the tender skin.

Before long, he can't resist parting your legs to get a good view of your dripping cunt, needy and pulsing after being treated so roughly by him.

"Oh poor thing." he coos, the falseness of his sympathy only adding to your arousal. "Do you need master's help?"

You can only nod pitifully, as he brings his fingers to your clit and circles slowly, as if observing the consequences of his actions. At your hips jerking, he uses his other hand to pin you firmly to the bed, the structure squeaking under the weight. He continues to play with your clit, alternating his pace and rhythm to keep you on edge, never quite allowing you to reach the peak of the satisfaction he could bestow upon you.

"Such a needy hole, look at it. It's just begging to be filled, isn't it?" he asks, to which you nod again. In response, he slaps your cunt harshly. "If i wanted to talk to myself, i'd have simply jerked off in the safety of my isolated cell. Speak."

"Yes, yes I want to be filled." You say quickly, embarrassment fading away to let the desperation uncurl its claws in your mind. Seemingly satisfied, he slowly pushes two fingers into your pussy, barely suppressing the groan at how wet and hot you feel.

Starting to pump his digits, he curls them to press into your g spot, watching as you tense and make soft moans at the sensation. His other hand wraps around your neck, smirking at your wanton desperation.

"So quick and eager to have a criminal's fingers inside of you. And a nurse at that, don't you have a duty of care?" he taunts sadistically, languishing in your shame and embarrassment as he keeps fucking you harshly with his fingers. You try and shake your head, but you can't with how he's choking you ever so slightly; a reminder that your life is in the hands of one of Gotham's most feared supervillians. And your cunt has never been wetter.

But you aren't the only one affected. Edward was never the type of man to be able to go multiple rounds, and age didn't exactly help that fact. But whether it was being in the Asylum, his abstaining from self pleasure, or just you, he was hard as a rock again and itching to know what your pussy might be like around him.

"Please..." you start to beg, slightly dazed from the onslaught of sensations.

"Please what, hm? Please stop? Please fuck me? Oh please I want to be fucked by the greatest intellectual this city has ever known?"

You can hardly digest the intense self importance he's displaying as you nod again as best you can. "Please fuck me sir."

"Getting better, but say it louder. More conviction. I'm not an easy man to please." he threatens, moving his fingers faster, practically bullying the inside of your pussy as he releases the grip on your neck, allowing merciful oxygen to grace your airways.

"Please sir, please fuck me. Please make me yours, your slut. Please." you beg between moans, body tensing.

"I will." he assures you, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his face to observe your fluids, "but you should know, you became my slut when you so willingly got on your knees for me."

He grabs your hips and pulls you towards him as he kneels firmly on the bed, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under you. You almost voiced your thanks at the action, before he rubs the head of his cock on your sensitive clit.

"Once more, for good luck."

What an asshole, he doesn't even believe in luck, you think to yourself, but the stimulation on your core was leaving your breathless and needy, so you indulge him.

"Please fuck me master, I need you. I need The Riddler."

Playing into his ego, his persona, almost always works (not that you know that, opting for an educated guess instead) and he rewards you by sinking into your pussy, moaning uncharacteristically higher pitched. Once he bottoms out inside of you, he takes a moment to really take in the scene in front of him, before grabbing hold of your hips and starting to move.

You moan, the fingering causing your cunt to already be sensitive and on fire with urgency as he starts to fuck you. He bends over you, taking his glasses off and placing them at your side before starting to move his hips faster, determined to rid you of any other thought but him.

"That's it, fuck, go dumb on my cock for me." he encourages, as your eyes glaze over. "My dumb little nurse, so willing to spread her legs."

Not being able to deny his accusation, you simply hold on to his arms for dear life as he picks up the pace even more, thrusting into you and watching your cunt soak his cock in your wetness.

"Making such a goddamn mess." he grunts, leaning down and slapping your clit for the sake of it.

You whine at that, body jerking in response as he chokes out a small chuckle. Soothing it, he rubs circles with his thumb in time with his thrusts, content with the noises of pleasure that fall from your lips. Outside, the noise of the riot were obvious now, and he uses it to his advantage.

"What if someone were to see? Would they think i forced myself on you? Or would they see you for what you truly are? A whore who wanted one of her patients to fuck her." he demeans you, and all you can do is attempt to shake your head.

He tuts, leaning so his breath tickles your lips. "I told you, lying doesn't suit you sweetheart."

Perhaps you were a whore, for wanting a man like Edward to make you feel something, but you can't hope to deny that what he's making you feel is good, so damn good.

"I'm a whore." you mumble quietly, before he groans. He feels your walls tightening around him, can feel the way your body is tensing as you near release.

"Say it properly, and i'll let you cum all over The Riddler's cock. How about that?" he says it like he's giving you a gift, something so unbelievable that you should be grateful he even considered it. But either way, you give in.

"I'm a whore, i'm your whore sir." you manage to get out between punishing thrusts, nails digging into the meat of his biceps. "I'm The Riddler's whore."

He moans, slamming into you with conviction. "You're damn right you are."

You're unsure if that meant you had permission to cum, but between his thrusts and his thumb playing with your clit, you knew you couldn't stop it as you cum hard around him. Your back arches, giving him a hell of a sight as he chases his own orgasm brutally.

"Yes that's it, take it. Take what i give you...take my cum, god you're so lucky. So privileged, so-"

He cuts himself off with a groan, mumbling your name as he buries himself completely inside of you as he finishes. You squirm softly at the warmth of the sensation, but not being able to go anywhere due to the death grip he has on your thighs; you're most certainly going to have bruises.

After a few blissful moments, he pulls out, admiring how your cunt flutters around nothing before his cum slowly leaks from your used hole. He gently reaches down and collects some on the tip of his finger, before pushing it back inside, laughing at your overstimulated gasp.

"There. Now wasn't that more enjoyable than running to the guards for help."

Giving him a sweaty nod, he climbs off of you and fixes him jumpsuit, before rolling his shoulders and standing up. You force yourself to sit up a little, watching as he smirks.

"I'm a little ahead of schedule, I confess I was foreseeing a little more convincing on my part for you to let me bed you." he says, uncharacteristically self deprecating, now matter how slight.

"Ahead of schedule for what?" you ask, before your answer is revealed when he picks up an empty chair and smashes the window.

"Oh sweetheart, while I did want to fuck you, did you really think i'd not pass up the opportunity for escape? I think my sabbatical has reached it's conclusion." he announces, walking over and grabbing your wrist to look at your watch. "The morons should have neutralised the guard post by now, if they actually listened to what I had to say."

At your hesitance, he smirks as he lets go of your wrist and leans down to give you a lingering kiss. "Perhaps i'll visit you again, you certainly made quite the impression on me."

At a loss for words, you stutter out a quick "okay" before he turns and begins to climb out the window. Not before turning for one last look at you.

"I really should have left a mark, people need to know you're mine now. Get changed sweetheart, in my estimations you have about ten minutes."

With that, he's gone, and you're left on the bed, cum dripping from your cunt and sweat slowly evaporating from your naked skin. Still, you suppose, he did protect you from the riot.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(perhaps one day I will include a daddy kink in my writing, but alas I fear today is not that day)

[simp-ly-writes]

Betting on Hearts

Cross-over: Contemporary! Peaky Blinders x The Gentlemen (2024)

Pairing: Edward "Eddie" Horniman x afab!Shelby!Reader,

Summary: Being the main face to the (legal*) Shelby Business Empire, you too dabble with the less than legal side when prompted to (against your Brother's wishes). So when a certain Duke and Glass Family start stirring things up on your doorstep, you decide to seduce the duke into compliance but maybe, Eddie had the same idea for you too...

Warnings: 5000~ words, depictions of blood, overprotective siblings, emotional manipulation (seduction), reader is a bit... much. Probably some other tags that I am forgetting

A/N: more notes later.

Masterlist | Taglist Request | read-through and edited.

↳ The Shelby empire was dominant in many industries and with you being among the middle children, just behind your three older brother's, you mainly took to the newer parts of the business but you of course wrangled your way to the darker sides as well no matter how much your family protested (except for Polly, she openly cheered you on before her untimely passing)

↳ You were the Queen of import/export, the face to the Gin company and co-owner to your new digital sports betting app, your younger sister Ada had stepped in to help you manage it all. Using the earnings from the gambling you put it towards the branding and advertisements of your other departments and the greater Shelby corporation

↳ Arthur, the spirited yet your mentally-barley-afloat brother as he drank half the gin you supplied to his section of the business or found himself high as a kite while insisting on keeping your hands as clean as possible, coming with you on every assignment. Arthur maintained his "Garrison" bars across the country, moving on to establish high dining and was currently trying to stick the Shelby name into hotel management.

↳ John, a man that carried a huge heart with his irresistible charm and humor. He (while trying to convince the youngest, Finn to join him) managed the productions and manufacturing of each one of your industries. Supplying the parts, the bottles and ingredients, alongside the construction materials for every one of Arthur's expansions alongside supplying for your... darker dealings. The company, to a degree, was self-sustainable

↳ And of course, you had Thomas, the mastermind of the whole empire and the one you reported every minuscule detail to at the end of the day. You wouldn't call him kind, but he was considerate to a degree. You could always count on him to protect you where other's have failed but that also caused the greatest conflict between the two of you. It was hard, managing family verses business with him, lines always threatening to be crossed as your relationship was strained. Thomas respected you deeply, you had stuck with him when the rest of the family fell apart and offered him new perspectives to cultivating legal business. Yet he was too protective of you, he couldn't stand to lose you and openly admitted that you where his first choice if he needed to choose who would live

↳ In recent times, your family was playing chess against with a rising power called the Glass family who not so suitably started poking their fingers into your sectors, fixing your gambling sites with their newest expansions. You chuckled to yourself within Tommy's house. The men reported on the new business the Glass family had established, a boxing ring as you shoved Arthur in his chair with a teasing smile.

"Remember when you wanted to become a boxer, brother?" Arthur flips you the finger, a frown emerging from his moustache as he pours himself another drink, mumbling about you being a spoiled little brat yet you don't bother to catch the end of it.

The spy coughs, returning all of your attention back as Thomas glares at you both to hold yourselves, John's face has gone red trying to conceal his laughter at the childish faces you pull at him as Thomas throws his hand up, signalling for the man to continue.

"They have been having some difficulties in expanding their weed enterprise as well, we are still trying to get to the bottom of as to why this is as the documentation we have stolen shows nothing out of the sorts." A series of copied folders and photographs are then spread against the hardwood table as your painted nails sort through each stack, categorizing them in sequential order. Your green nail taps on top of a dead mans face thoughtfully stroking his cheek as you look at the bullet hole placed in between his eyes, "And what is the backstory to this incident exactly?" you comment.

The spy looks towards Thomas who already looks bored, there was nothing of significance to be said just yet but this newest bit of information had him raising as eyebrow. "Well, that kill was confirmed to be done by the new Duke of Halstead as I were one of the men stationed to dispose of it."

The spy throws another bundle on the table labelled, "The Duke." You excitedly snatch the manila folder quicker than anyone else at on the table as your eyes dart across every picture and piece of information you can grasp. Captain, Aristocrat, Medals... More Medals, Service, First Place, Honour Roll, Head Boy, Family Strain, oh... Your thoughts pause, cheeks heating when you flick up a stapled bundle of papers, a defined uniform, blue beret. The next page a Polo champion in college and deep black suit for the funeral. Slamming the folder shut, all eyes snap to the sudden noise.

"We are joining the upper echelon of society, brothers! Do let me meet up with him- I promise not to disappoint," you plead, already knowing that you are perfect for the mission. You and the Duke were both public-facing faces with one foot in reality and another in the pits. It would be a simple mission really, you convince yourself and your brothers as they immediately protest to the idea. Step in, seduce, convince him to sign-out and step out- as simple as that.

You look at Thomas, eyes strong, eyebrows furrowed as you level his stare. "You know I'm the only who can properly do this job, Thomas and if it does not work out, we can just kill them off just like the last, right?" The spy departs, bowing his head before speedily turning out of the room as tension only rises in the room, getting caught in your throat as you hitch your breath watching as Tommy's mouth moves into an echoing, "fine."

--

↳ So here you sat, in your covered box from the sun at the races. You clapped joyfully with a smile spreading your cheeks. You tip your hat down, seeing your bets adding up on your card as Ada cheered loudly beside you, leaning over the railing as she praises your chosen racer. Interviews for the sportsmen start as the Jockey casts a wink up at your sister. Ada throws down a business card the he clutches, placing it in his breast pocket with a tap to his chest before continuing to answer the post-race questions.

"Have yourself a date?" you tease out, picking up your spiked lemonade to hide your smile curving up into a knowing smirk. "Well you are one to talk sis, I heard down the grapevine that you had a certain duke chasing after you like Cinderella," Ada rebuttals, fixing herself a drink at the cart as you eye the three shots of vodka she stirs in, "isn't that a bit much for..." you look down at your wrist-watch, "...1PM? We do have dinner at Arthur's later tonight you know."

"We all can use a pick-me-up every now and then," she comments as you hum out, eyeing up your singular shot drink before shifting further down the couch to create space for her as she removes a pillow, placing it on her lap as she kicks off her heels and sets her feet up upon the coffee table. "Now, you didn't answer my question, go on then," she sasses, setting her drink down and leaning closer to you with knowing eyes gleaming into your own.

You roll your eyes, face going red while pushing her face away from your own as she laughs, "So you do have the hots for him!"

"No, its just that a second sun is bursting in my face and plus, we could never work," you retort, now refusing to meet her chasing eyes as she grips your hand. "Oh, come on (name)! details, details! don't leave me hanging here, thats brothers work," Ada presses forward just as your resolve crumbles. You place a hand to the bride of your nose, pinching as you eyes squeeze shut. "I won't repeat myself so listen closely," you start recalling the first day you met Captain and Duke, Edward Horniman.

--

↳ Running around your house, asking various staff members of your estate as to where your old mail had been distributed you felt around the thin papers and pages till you felt weight and lifted out the invitation from the stack. Mr. Johnston's Estate invites you to his quarterly festivities, your fingers trace over the pressed letters and seal before looking towards your closet

↳ You had worn a tailored dress that perfectly accentuated your body for tonights assignment. Within a closer inspection, various hand stitched black branches and birds spread across the top sheer level of fabric set to a black backdrop. Your hair was pinned upwards, showcasing the glowing skin of your neck and upper chest that you spent way too much time blending in with your makeup.

↳ You suitably leaned against the bar-top, feet already sore from the high heels you wore to make your legs appear longer and by the looks around the room, your plan of seduction was already in the works as a woman ordered a drink for the two of you. Her red lipstick simmering brightly under the dim lights, beckoning you in closer yet you held your resolve. Thanking her for the drink while placing a hand on her own before walking towards the neighbouring room. Feeling her stare as you left, you offered her a floating kiss before turning the corner.

↳ The windows were open as you walked down the long hall towards the cheers as multiple guests played various card games within the billiards room, you pulled the sleeves of your dress down further as you dropped the drink on a floating tray- it's sickeningly sweet taste formed a headache as you pinched your temples.

↳ You strolled around the room, smiling at every face that met yours, shaking hands with others as you enjoyed watching every. single. face. fall in recognition to who they were just flirting with. Stuttering apologies, you grew disappointed when their eyes drifted cautiously around the room for a threat of a man, one of your brothers. You scoff at this, turning towards the next.

↳ With the most recent man that was trying to capitalize on the half-attention you were giving him, absent-mindlessly nodding along to his business proposition as you both strolled around the estate, you found yourselves back at the entrance as your eyes snapped over to the late party-goers just making their arrivals, one of them being just the man you were waiting for as he stumbles through the open doors.

His beauty stumps you in person, the blurry pictures you obtained from at the table do not do the man justice as he practically glows under the warm lighting above. His hair tussled in a wind-swept way as your hands itch to fix every strand. Chocolate eyes are all you want to drink in before your attention is being called back as you start to glare at the intrusion.

"So what do you think, Mademoiselle Shelby?" the man asks to you, hand starting to drift up your arm, another on your leg before your eyes snap back down to his face from over the crowd. You rip your arm away from his touch, sending him a cold smile as you fix the lapels of his jacket for him, gripping the suit closest to his neck as you pull him closer to you. Any outside looker would think your reaction to be a romantic display yet by the sweat starting to form at his hairline, you were receiving just the reaction you wanted.

"I have no interest in working with a boy who already starts to sweat at the mere touch of a woman," and with that you drop him, watching as he falls into a group of people who all glare down at him, stepping around as he scrambles out the backdoor. You fix your appearance in your phones camera before making your way towards your mission.

--

Edward Horniman's Perspective

Re-buttoning his suit jacket, he places his keys in the hands of a staff-member while making his way up the stairs. Susie had been waiting for him in the lobby rather impatiently, her foot tapping against the tiled floors as she dully looked at the floral decorations that hug around the vaulted space before her eyes snapped to Eddie form spinning around to face her.

"You look a bit shit," she says while eyeing him up and down, taking notice to the small amount of blood beginning to form at his side with distaste.

"Remind me why we're here?" Eddie states, taking the conversation reigns as he begins to glance around the room. Susie begins walking closer to him, making their way out of the foyer.

"We are here to learn why Uncle Sam wants in to your estate and subsequently our Business," Susan replies, a subtle shake of her head as if ringing out the terrible idea of it all. Her feet start to falter as she instantly notices you stepping into the room behind them both with a champagne flute delicately place in your hand.

"Then whats his business?" Eddie pushes forwards, moving them both through the sea of people as Susie snaps her head back forwards, doing her best to maintain composure and not cause a scene as she allows Eddie to guide her further into the estate.

"Meth. He's made billions from it."

"Then what are you, Susan, a drug dealer with a heart?" Eddie question's, raising a brow as he stops to pick them both up a drink. A small smile spreading across his lips as they chime together before Susie proceeds to down the rest of it.

"Everything alright?" concern now rising in his features as he looks around the room, his gaze stopping, breath intaking sharply at the sight of you. He is unable to tear his gaze away as you turn your head to face him, you offer a small smile. Eyeing the man from his shoes, the seam of his pants, his neck that swallow deeply as your hand rises from your side, up to your collarbones as you delicately play with the necklace you wear. You finally stop at his eyes as you mouth a cheeky hello before turning around back towards the bar.

Susie still remains looking at her now empty drink, unknowing to Eddie's distraction by the sound of the crowd as she continues conversation normally. "We like money just as the next man, but his gear comes with a rather violent price tag. We stay in our lane because comparatively, its a peaceful one. We let him in, carnage will follow."

Susie now looks up, noticing that Eddie had not replied to her speech as she follows his gaze to your back as your fingers play with the lip of your cup. You laugh at whatever the bartender had just said to you before your glass has been topped off once more, you turn around, flashing them both a smile before slowly making your way closer to them.

Eddie takes a step forwards, wishing to meet you halfway before Susie reigns him in, nails digging into the arm of his suit jacket as she pulls him back to her side.

"I don't think you are quite ready for the big leagues, Captain-" Susan warns, looking at the side of Eddies face before he turns back to her, a charming smile accentuating his features before he speaks.

"I just killed a man, Susie. I think I can handle speaking to a woman-"

"Hm, well thats just not any ordinary woman, Edward. That is Miss. Shelby- the possible saviour to every one of our problems if we did not already... push some buttons," Susie states, smile waning as you get progressively closer, many people still try and gain your attention as you hold up your hand, wishing not to be disturbed.

"And there's room to fix that I'm sure, but what exactly did WE do?" Before Susie could answer, your heels are in front of Eddies dress shoes as you extend a hand forwards in greeting. "Miss. Shelby," Susie greets you with a composed look, her smile dropped as she tries to stare through you.

Edward picks up your hand, pressing a kiss on to the back of it as you hold hands for longer than necessary before pulling away. "Your Grace, Miss. Glass," you greet, "a pleasure it is to see you both here tonight." Your voice is like honey, hanging in the air as you smile at them both.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Shelby," Edward replies, noticing Susie's mock indifference as she shifts her weight slightly under your faux-gentle eyes; sharped to a cutting-stare as you strike her down. "You two make a rather charming couple, if I may ask, how recent is this development?" you question, hiding your growing smirk in your drink as Eddie's gaze falls to your lips and the print you leave against the glass, snapping back up to your eyes- yours crinkle in a second greeting.

"You have yourself mistaken, Myself and Miss. Glass are merely business associates," Eddie clarify as you set your glass gently on the bar-top, hand brushing against Eddies bicep in the movement. Your eyes continue to lock on to one another, a silent conversation being played as you lean a bit closer, taking a deeper look at his features as you notice Eddies gaze roam your's own. In that moment, Susie decides to step back into the conversation.

"What does your family want?" she deadpans, eyeing the closing distance between you and Eddie with hardened eyes as her hand threatens to crush the glass in her hand. "Well, by the looks of it, your business had became my business, thanks to your mingling," you charismatically charm, hand hovering on Eddies arm as you adore the jealous look brewing inside her.

"And if you two are merely just associates, I think this calls for a more... personal discussion with the Duke since our businesses are now becoming tied together, is that not tight Susie?" you finish with as Eddie looks between the two of you, undeceiving of who to follow alongside. But by the look of your eyes snapping to his lips once more as you tongue swipes across your own, parting them slightly- his decision is made.

"I will be back in a moment, Susie," Edward says, following in-step as you lead him out of the crowded space. Just as Eddie reaches the hall, he casts his head back, sending Susie a knowing look as if to say, I'm fixing it before disappearing. Susie glares at your lipstick stained glass sat on the counter with distaste before being led towards Mr. Johnston by his assistant.

--

Your Perspective

Success, you cheer to yourself, as you loop your arm around Eddies arm, leading him towards a nearby study you know to be empty. The door softly closes behind you both. In the next moment, you pull Eddies arm to his side, shoving him against the door as it rattles from the impact.

Eddie's eyes are blown wide as he hisses out slightly in pain, forgetting about the gun-shot wound before becoming distracted by the feeling of your soft lips against his own. Your heels make you tall enough to capture his lips into a delicate battle of heated touches, your skirt being bunched up by Eddies hands, your gentle caresses of the stubble of his cheeks as playful bite his lower lip, wishing to explore more.

Gasping for air as you pull away, you further taint his skin a deep red to match his lips you coated in your lipstick. Pressing a kiss at the side of his mouth as he whispers out a tease before you trail over to his cheek, paving a way to his chin and down his neck as his head raises, exposing more skin for your greedy lips. He grips your hips, keeping you in place as you suck a mark onto the base of his neck. A soft moan escaping between his lips before an equally greater hiss as blood continues to pour out of his side.

You take a step back, gently opening his jacket, your eyes cast upwards, through your lashes as you playfully pout. You place a palm at his inner thigh, watching as his eyes grow in size as your hand drifts just past the growing bulge in his pants- stopping slightly before the wound as you hum out thoughtfully while looking at it.

"My, my, your grace. Whatever do you have here?" You rhetorically ask before pressing your hand into the opening, listening as he hisses out, hands swiftly moving off your hips and onto your hand as they pull your touch off of him side.

"You little fucking temptress," Eddie curses out, eyes darkened as his tongue sweeps over his lips, you take a few steps back. The Duke presses himself off the wall, taking wide strides as your hands begin to sweat yet you do not break eye contact. Continuing to swiftly walk backwards as best you can in heels before tripping over a rug and falling against the back of a chair.

Eddie's arms cage you in against the chair, your breath hitching as he places his face within the crook of your neck. His facial hair tickling your skin, a soft burn forming with every word he speaks, "Now tell me, Miss. Shelby, what is it you want from me?"

You swallow. Hard. Knuckles turning white at the force you grip the chair with before trying to compose yourself, a shaky breath you exhale conceal in a moan. Pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear, "I want you to kiss me, Eddie," you murmur, hand fixing those curls you wanted to from the start. Your fingers curl around a few strands within an instant as Eddie sucks a bruise to your neck, licking the area afterwards. "What are you here for?" he questions once more as you shake your head, wondering how far you can truly push this.

"No. That was not a proper kiss, sir. Kiss me." You state again, taking a deep breath in as victory when Eddie pulls away, eyes boring into your own, blood now tainting the band of his pants as your eyes flicker down to it. Your chin is gripped as Eddie pulls you into that proper kiss you were begging for but he pulls away too quickly as you press your lips together to hide your frown. Your cheeks were warm, hair a mess, your chest raises up and down like you had just ran a mile.

Edward appears in the same state as he stumbles back, hand gripping his side, eyes tipping down to your chest before snapping back up with a cold look- you needed to answer, couldn't have your signature bleeding out before he could sign.

"I need you out of my bettings, your grace," you breathily state, hand placed on your chest as you feel your heart-rate still bumping fast. You take deeper intakes of air, feeling for your heart starting to slow as you watch Eddie crunch over, blood-loss starting to make him go dizzy.

You swiftly stand and hobble towards the desk, finding a first aid kit in one of the lower drawers as you unknowingly bend down in front of Eddie as he curses you out once more, you look back, murmuring an apology before standing up straight and beginning to make work of his clothes, jacket off, tie discarded and shirt unbuttoned, you pluck the remnants of the bullet out from his side.

Eddie grits his teeth together, hands curled into fists as he watches you work, your tweezers poking into his muscle. "If you would stop watching me so closely, maybe I could focus more and poke you less," you sass, looking up at his while blowing the hair out of your eye. Eddie fixes the stand behind your ear before raising his hand once more. "Well just a minute ago you were practically on your knees begging for me to look at you," Eddie responds with a smirk, you huff and maintain your work, gathering the last bits of metal before treating the area and wrapping his torso snuggly.

The Duke's blood stains your hands as you look down at them thoughtfully. The thick liquid cascades off your fingertips, falling onto your dress, marking a pair of birds. "You owe me a new dress," you say, wiping your hands with the small cloth the kit provided before taking a stand. You start to walk away before Eddie grasps your arm, you pause mid-step, feet now plated in wait.

"Thank you, Miss. Shelby. I will sign to never fix a game with your business if you promise to have a meeting with Miss. Glass and I," Edward compromises, letting go of your arm and watches as you walk towards the exit, "I don't think you are in any position to make compromises, nevertheless demands, Edward. But... I'll keep you updated on my decision," and with that you close the door softly behind yourself for him to get dressed. Pressing your forehead to the wooden surface, you grip your hands into fists before settling your head up high as you descend the stairs and move towards the coat room. You sneak your keys and coat before slipping out the side door and walk towards your car.

A series of hastened footsteps against the gravel have you rolling down the window to your Range Rover, foot on the brake, hands on the wheel- ready to make haste. You do your best not to be surprised when the Duke's face greets you on the other side, a I know something you don't smile resting on his features as you raise a brow to it.

"We never exchanged contacts," he states to you casually, as if it were the weather. You hum out, analyzing his statement while look out the windshield before looking back at him. Light rain begins to fall as you press a lingering kiss to his cheek, "I will find you in due time, you and Miss. Glass. Have a good night, your grace." And with that, you roll up your window, and drive off underneath the moonlight.

--

You take a deep sip of your drink as Ada sits still, mouth open as you swear to be losing circulation to you hand. Pins and needles start to form at your fingertips form how tightly she holds onto your hand. "Fuck, sis. Sounds like you got him good," Ada says, barley able to conceal her smile.

Shaking your head you take a deep sip of your near melted lemonade before clearing your throat and checking for the time, it would be an hour's drive from here, you both had to leave soon. "Well even if I have managed to, 'get him good...'" you raise your hands in quotations, starting to mock even the idea of you two together yet your heart speaks otherwise, beating rapidly in your chest as you recount the feeling of his lips on yours. The small hickey on your neck still bruised as you wonder if his has healed since then.

Ada raises a brow, watching as you absent-mindedly reach up towards your mark, fingers circling around the mark as you continue to speak, "...Tommy would never allow it-"

"Fuck what Tommy thinks, he's not you. Do YOU want to see him again?" Ada cuts you off, a serious look taking over every feature, tightening into sharp lines- as if daring you to say else-wise.

You refuse to meet her eyes, looking outside to the near empty tracks, "I mean..."

↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly @iamasimpingh0e @kneelarmhstrung @surazim

↳ A/N: What did you all think? I am quite happy with this being a standalone but I am willing to write a pt.2. If you have any ideas as to where it could go- send an ask, DM, or comment and I'll see what can be done further :) (i'm also taking a break soon... maybe... probably).

[crazylittlejester]

Wars as Bella au: so wolves use eye contact as a sign of aggression/dominance. So imagine Wars not knowing and just staring down various members of Jacob's werewolf pack. Because he refuses to be intimidated by an overgrown dog. He has after all fought beast Ganon (who was MUCH bigger) and won

This leads to him having sway with the werewolves that he is unaware of

OH FOR SURE. And at the beginning he’s just completely oblivious to it all

Warriors’s inability to read weird ass social cues, let alone social cues in general, PLUS the fact he’s completely out of his element and doesn’t understand the modern world a whole lot leaves him to be very unintentionally intimidating to the vampires and werewolves, completely ignoring the fact he’s a trained military captain. before they even realize Wars could seriously kill them, they’re a bit confused by him and definitely intimidated

like to an extent, the vampires are kinda used to getting their way, and so are the wolves. But absolutely ZERO amount of trying to stare Wars down is gonna do anything because he’s not gonna pick up what the hell it means, and hes gonna just stare straight back like “the fuck??” AND he’s stubborn enough to not be the first to look away. He doesn’t understand these odd social games but he’ll be damned if he loses the weird staring contests

Aside from the fact he could easily take out any one of them (as in murder), the vampires and wolves can feel the something Different about him, they can tell he doesn’t belong here and that makes Wars very odd to them, because if he’s not a vampire and he’s not a werewolf well then what the fuck is he. Since this IS a Twilight au, yes Edward IS a creep and IS in love with him, but also he’s genuinely so fucking curious about him because compared to everyone else in Forks, Wars is seriously just Weird and very perplexing. I’m obsessed with the idea of witches NOT being real in this universe, of them being a strictly fictional thing, but Warriors being so weird he manages to convince Edward and Jacob maybe witches ARE real, just like they are

Edward coming home every night like “dad the sheriff’s kid keeps staring me down :/“ vs the wolves goin’ home like “this new guy is a little scary actually” and all Wars did was make unbreaking eye contact like 🤨

[finniestoncrane]

12 Days of Kinkmas • Day 5: Bondage - ZY!Riddler x GN!Reader request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist • dividers minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: bondage, restraints, sub/dom dynamics, teasing, potential cw for noncon as eddie doesn't want to be tied up, and so his erection could be considered unwanted, also i let this asshole get away with murder so it's his turn to be dominated >:3

"And here I was thinking I'd be getting nothing but a lump of coal from the big guy this year, what with all of the terrible, horrible things I've done to you."

You smiled, humming in amusement as you stalked over to where Edward stood on his tiptoes.

"But here you are, all tied up like a pretty little gift, and I'm sure you're for me. I can't think who else would be deserving of such a handsome, helpless little present."

You walked your fingers up Edward's body, grazing over the patch of red hair on his chest and ending your sentence by dabbing the end of his sweet, upturned nose. He furrowed his brows and bared his teeth, squirming against the restraints and shaking his head to get away from your touch. Exasperated, he let his body thump back against the wall, looking up at you from below his eyebrows.

"I'm not helpless, it's hardly an equal fight. Although you would have to have me chained up and flustered to get the better of me."

"Oh, so you admit you're flustered?"

You smiled, trying to conceal how pleased you were with yourself, but it was a futile effort, and Eddie's blushing cheeks only served to encourage your glee.

"There's no point in trying to fight it, Eddie. You're just a little gift, from me to me. I'm getting into the festive spirit though, and perhaps unwrapping you a little bit early might be something I could consider."

Your fingers trailed down his soft stomach, stopping at the unruly mess of deep red pubic hair, watching his body jerking and tensing at the touch. Biting your lip, you moaned softly, fingers dropping lower, the tips reaching the base of his cock, feeling it twitch as it began to stiffen with your teasing.

"I swear, the longer you leave me tied up like this, the worse my retaliation is going to be."

"Don't you like being tied up, Eddie? Getting teased? Feeling helpless to the whims of my desires?"

Pressing your body to his, you spoke the words softly into his ear, letting your lips make contact with his skin, feeling him shiver, his skin prickling with the heat of his desperation, as much as he tried to hide it.

"No. I don't."

With a firm grip, you pressed your palm onto the bulge at the front of the underwear you had graciously let him keep on, fingers pressing hard into him.

"How strange... seems like you might actually be enjoying it a little bit, Eddie... or a lot, even. No?"

He averted his gaze, looking at the floor for a moment before you heard him mumble something under his breath. Placing a finger under his chin, you lifted his head up, letting his eyes meet yours, sparkling and wide.

"What did you say, Eddie?"

He snarled at you, before realising how ineffectual it was, and with a pout, he answered.

"I said... maybe I'm into this... a little bit more than I want anyone to know."

You gripped his chin and shook his head softly before removing your hand to pat his head.

"Don't worry, Eddie. You're my gift. I'm not one to share."

[spearsillustration]

Haiii can I have sum androgynous reader x Richtofen imagines >_< dankeschon

Note:  First off sorry for the long wait. I've been a bit behind on requests.

Okay, I've never written anything for an androgynous reader so I hope I do this justice. However, I always try to make the reader as gender-neutral as possible so everyone can enjoy my writing that goes for gender, sexual orientation, race, etc. 

- Also, I don't know if you'd like Primis or Ultimis so I'm gonna make a jump and assume Primis. 

--------

Richtofen is the kind of person who values intellect, ambition, and a sharp mind above all else. Outward appearances would mean little to him in the grand scheme of things. What would truly captivate him is a partner with a keen intellect, someone who can challenge him in conversation, keep up with his eccentric thought processes, and perhaps even surprise him with their own insights.

A strong personality—whether that be charm, wit, or a touch of madness—would draw him in far more than superficial beauty. He would admire someone with depth, someone who understands the complexities of the world (or at least of his world) and can stand their ground against his unpredictable nature. In the end, it’s not about how you look—it’s about how you think, how you intrigue him, and whether or not you can keep up with the brilliant, albeit dangerous, mind of Edward Richtofen.

I’d say Richtofen doesn’t really have a strict preference when it comes to a partner. Whether someone presents as more masculine or feminine, both traits have unique qualities that would intrigue and captivate him in different ways. He’s not the type to be swayed by societal norms or traditional expectations—he sees people for who they are beyond just their outward expression. A strong, confident presence, whether in a traditionally masculine or feminine sense, would appeal to him in its own way.

A more masculine partner might impress him with their boldness, assertiveness, or physical prowess—traits that would align with his appreciation for power and capability. Someone who can hold their own in a dangerous situation or exude a sense of control and dominance might earn his respect and fascination.

On the other hand, a more feminine partner could catch his attention with their grace, cunning, or emotional intelligence. A sharp mind wrapped in charm or an ability to manipulate situations to their advantage would no doubt pique his interest. He’s not immune to the allure of mystery and elegance, especially when combined with a mind as devious or brilliant as his own.

At the end of the day, Richtofen isn’t looking for someone who fits a mold—he’s looking for someone who can keep up with him, who excites and challenges him. Intelligence, ambition, and a certain unpredictability would matter far more to him than whether a person leans masculine, feminine, or somewhere in between. What truly draws him in is the unique spark within a person—their ability to match his energy, understand his complexities, and maybe even surprise him.

[munsonswhore]

ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʟᴇꜱꜱ | eddie munson x reader

word count :664

warnings: angst, mild language, death of minor character.

main account: @houseforwhores

a/n: do you guys want the part 2?

you heard the front door open and close, relieved at the sound. eddie was back, he could help you look now, or maybe he knows where she's hiding.

"eddie!"you shouted, clutching your towel around your chest, you kneeled down in front of the couch to look under. "ntch. ntch. ntch., lauren, come out pretty baby."

"uhm hey baby," eddie said his voice shaking, his hands were behind his back. but you were to focused on finding lauren that you didn't notice or look at him.

"hey ed's. have you see. lauren? i can't seem to find her," you said feeling a little stressed. you'd been searching upwards of thirty minutes now.

"uhm actually. babe, could you stop what you're doing. i- uhm-"eddie sighed, a deep breath escaping his lungs. you caught the distress in his voice, you rose from your position, and faced towards him. his eyes were very noticeably red.

"eddie what's wrong?" you asked wiping. the stray tears on his cheek before pecking his lips, feeling them quiver against yours.

"y/n it was an accident," eddie said carefully as he tilted his head, his eyes widening just a smidge as he watched for your reaction. you stepped back a bit, analyzing.

"eddie." you said a bit stern as you swallowed thickly, preparing yourself for the worst. "what was an accident?"

eddie slowly brought his arms from behind his back, lauren was there lying in the palms of his hands, a little too still for your liking.

"eddie-" you cut yourself off taking her into your hands sobbing. the moment your hands touched her fur, you knew she was gone, you couldn't feel her heat emanating from her anymore. and it broke you inside. "what the fuck eddie?"

you sat down on the floor, you brought lauren to your chest as you rocked the both of you in a back and forth motion.

"y/n." eddie walked closer to you placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. you snatched your shoulder away from him. "i didn't see her-"

"you did this-?!" you shouted, snapping your head in eddie's direction

"she was- just there- i didn't mean to kill her-" eddie said stammering over his words as he did his best to explain himself to you.

"wow eddie." you remarked sniffling, your voice indignant as you spoke. you shook your head in disbelief, lauren was dead in your arms. "you really are a freak."

"what?"

"everyone warned me." you reputed glaring at him, now looking him in his eyes. "that you're a freak."

"they told me how you like to hurt animals! guess they were right." you said holding lauren up to him so he could see what he'd done. he looked away, speech evading him, but that wasn't an answer. "hmm? isn't it eddie?"

you were fuming now. you placed lauren down beside you before standing up, eddie raising from his crouching position so you two could be face to face.

"y/n.." eddie said, visibly distraught, his eyes darted back and forth between your tear-filled eyes as he tried to find the words. "i- i didn't-"

"you didn't what eddie?" you screamed in his face, jabbing a finger at his chest.  "you didn't get off on killing her? she was living breathing thing eddie! and you killed her!"

you turned around as you began sobbing again. all of this becoming too much for you. you used your dominant hand to wipe the tears from your face.

"you need to leave, edward."

"edward?" eddie whispered, feeling repulsed yet hurt, you never call him edward. he could feel the bile build in his throat, anxiety coating his stomach and leading up his esophagus. "y/n-

"go." your words were stern as you sobbed, your place filled with silence before you could hear the door shut, you could tell he was trying to be gentle about it however you couldn't mistake the anger in the way it aggressively shut.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[missingcarrion]

carrion //ch10 tomorrow

tw/cw : alcohol, transphobia

notes aasimar is pookie i love him

taglist: @tapioca-milktea1978 @neapolitantoebeans

masterlist

-

Seated around a table, Shepherd finds himself amongst a few of the Institute’s greatest minds. Across from him sits Aasimar, who looks almost bored, and he flicks tiny paper balls at another who seems annoyed but attempts to keep her composure. She grows increasingly more and more upset with him, however.

The others ignore them, and largely they ignore him too which is something that still feels odd to him. But he tries not to think on it too hard. They were called into this meeting for a reason. Whatever that reason is.

“Can someone get it to stop flicking things at me,” the woman seethes, and her badge reveals her to be Lucille Greenwich, interim head of the defense department. “Could we not find another feasible replacement for the Doctor instead of using this … miscreant?”

Aasimar snorts, and it perturbs Shepherd how casual he is. She has just insulted him, reduced him down to an ‘it’, an object, inhuman. And yet, he laughs! He almost takes pleasure in it.

“Please, you and I both know I’m not going anywhere,” he leans back, letting out a low hiss of discomfort with the position change before hes back to smiling. “You’ll have to try much harder to get me out of here.”

“How about I strangle you?”

“Mm, I might like that, but not from you. I’m in a bit of an exclusive… relationship of sorts.” He waves his hand and laughs at the way Lucille almost chokes.

Shepherd flushes and his eyes widen ever so slightly. Is that… Does Aasimar speak of them? Is this dating? Too many questions barrel through him and there just isn’t the time to ask. Luckily, the meeting commences when the boss walks in. No name comes up when Shepherd looks at him, nor does he wear a badge. A strategic move, maybe, but he’s not sure.

“That’s enough, you two,” he says, and Shepherd notices the woman straighten out, “how is it that you are in charge of defense and yet, you let little Aasimar get on your nerves so easily. And Aasimar, you ought to know better. We are here for a reason, your petty squabbles will get you no further.”

“Of course, boss man,” Aasimar bows his head slowly, “I was merely having a bit of harmless fun while we wait. No harm no foul.”

Shepherd can’t help but stare at Aasimar. He seems almost entirely relaxed, like he knows he can’t be punished for his behavior. And for a moment, their gazes meet, and Aasimar smiles. He looks so… beautiful, with a smile like that.

“I see our latest project is up and running,” the man interrupts Shepherd’s thoughts, eyeing him like some slab of fresh meat on a table, “good, good, has he been trained in combat yet?”

Aasimar shifts, uncomfortably, the smile dropping from his face. “I don’t see why he must be trained to fight. He was designed to help people, right?”

Shepherd remains silent – the look on Aasimar’s face tells him it’s pertinent that he remain quiet, the perfect example of a well behaved weapon. But he’s curious, is this man the creator of the Institute?

“He will only help those loyal to the Institute,” he said, his tone almost grim, yet calculative, “and punish those who stand against us. Simple. Why do you think we made him as big as he is? He’s designed for power and domination.”

“Ah, Aasimar only mourns not having him as a plaything for his lab,” another jests, the head of communications, but Shepherd quickly deems him unimportant. “He loves having toys to play with. Or fuck. Whatever works for him, really.”

The table laughs, but Aasimar does not. He shrinks in his seat, gaze casted downwards. He is… ashamed. It takes everything in Shepherd to sit quietly, to pretend not to care that they had objectified him and hurt Aasimar’s feelings all in one fell swoop, but there’s anger boiling inside of him. Anger that’s festered since the day he’d woken up.

“He provides better results than you, Edwards,” the Boss narrows his eyes, silencing their laughter in an instant, “who is it that’s provided alternatives to fixing the smog in the southlands? Who is it that’s returned the extinct flora of the eons past to us? Certainly not you. The Doctor is a more trustworthy guardian of Shepherd than you.”

“You’d truly trust a weapon bioengineered for warfare with… with her?” The air in the room goes still.

Her? Shepherd thinks, Aasimar is not…. His mind trails off, there had been peculiar scars on Aasi’s chest, but nothing out of the ordinary, not really anyway. But her? That just isn’t right – the slip of Lucille’s tongue has Aasimar standing abruptly, wobbling on his feet.

“I’m not a her, Lucille. I have been here for almost ten years, you know that. Call me that again and I’ll tear your spine out through your mouth.” His fists clench, trembling with white-knuckle rage.  

“That is enough. I trust him with far more than you think,” the Boss hisses, “Aasimar, why don’t you… meander about the town? Take it with you. He needs more… freedoms if the project is to work.”

Aasimar’s wrath doesn’t waver easy, and he nods through gritted teeth. “Shepherd, come.”

The members of the meeting mean little to Shepherd as he stands, carefully maneuvering himself past the seated members, hoping their gazes see nothing beyond the shell he wants them to see. He follows behind Aasimar, head down as he ducks beneath doorways too small for his largeness.

“Aasi,” he says, softly, pulling them into a hallway, tucked away from the main hall, “Aasi, what did she mean? Why did she say that?”

“It’s not – it’s not true!” Aasimar hisses, his tone laced with despair, “I’m not a girl, I – I’m not. I – I promise!”

Shepherd blinks and he stops, brows furrowed in confusion and worry. “Aasimar, of course you’re not a girl. What do you mean? What’s going on?”

Aasimar wears a look of despair like he had become accustomed to it, but the look of confusion morphs his face, like he’s not used to the blissful ignorance. “You don’t… You don’t know? But…. Didn’t Oleander talk about it, in his notes? Why I have my scars?”

“Hm? No, he only talked of your experiments, your kindness when you’d help him. Occasionally the notes on your favorite things, like that flower you want to bring back? The blue nemophila? He never mentioned anything about scars, though. Are… are you okay? Were they… bad scars?”

“No, they’re… they’re good scars,” Aasimar nods slowly, arms wrapped around his chest tightly, as if protecting himself. “These scars make me happy, very happy.”

“Then does it really matter why you have them? Truthfully, I don’t understand, you’re happy, you aren’t hurting anyone. What does it matter?” Shepherd huffs loudly and casts a look over his shoulder. “Lucille is a bitter woman, I think. Perhaps jealous she did not get ownership of me like you have.”

“I don’t own you, Shep. You are your own person, I’m just your temporary guardian until they’ve decided your capable of being on your own.” Aasimar recoils, hands slowly dropping to his side. “I… it’s not like I don’t trust you to share why I have them, I just… it’s not easy for me to talk about it.”

“Don’t feel like you have to tell me, Aasi. I just… I was worried, in there. You looked so hurt and angry. It was different than the other times you’ve been angry.” He shrugs, hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. “But anyway, who was that boss guy?”

“Oh, Andersfellen? He’s the founder of the Institute. Started it when he was young, cryogenically froze himself until his plans came to fruition, and then woke up to become a ruler from Hell,” Aasimar casts his gaze aside, “he collected a few favors and now we’re all stuck here, like slaves. You’ll do good to keep the robot persona up around him. He won’t hesitate to put you down if he sees one sliver of humanity from you.”

“Is everyone here so… against my existence?” Shepherd purses his lips, brows furrowed. If the world is so cruel, why create him at all?

“The Institute doesn’t care about anything other than itself, it’s a remnant of a society long gone, or at least we had hoped it was long gone.” Aasimar glances around them, to make sure there was no one around. “But there are others that are similar to you, maybe not exactly. But we’d have to go deeper into the Under city for that, and I don’t know. It’s … it’s not like our previous outing.”

“I can handle it.” He says, even though he’s not actually sure that he can, but he wants to try. There’s a whole world out there, one he longs to see.

Aasimar makes a face, before he relents. “You’re lucky you’re sweet, I wouldn’t take Hannah to any of the places I normally hang out at. She’s not as…. Willing to try new things.”

This piques Shepherd’s interest and he tilts his head. “Earlier, she said you were avoidant to change. But… Is she avoidant of it too?”

“We’re all avoidant to change, Shepherd. We get comfortable in what we have, we don’t imagine how different the world could be.” He says, eyes shifting but then he smiles. “But, change can be good sometimes. It brought you here.”

“It brought me back you mean.” He replies bitterly, and the anger in his tone surprised him.

“No, you’re not Oleander. You’ll never be him, and that’s the point. You shouldn’t be him. I don’t want you to be him, and you shouldn’t ever want to be like him,” Aasimar looks at him, as if this may be the single most important thing he’s ever been told. “But anyway, let’s get out of here. I need a drink.”

—

            Shepherd does not strike Aasimar as a club goer, but he leans back in the booth, legs parted, and his head cocked to the side like this was a second home to him. The thrum of the music and the cool-toned lights highlight him perfectly. But Aasimar only holds his attention for a few moments before others in the club call towards him. They dance, but glowing from their bodies are metallic parts, some more than others. They’re all not completely human either, pieced together by metal.

            This must’ve been what Aasi had meant – others like him existing. They’re like him, made of metal, and maybe he’s not made of real flesh like him, but there’s some comfort in their similarities.

            He turns to look at Aasimar, catching him mid sip of his Pink Whitney vodka, he looks exceptionally relaxed, and Shepherd has to restrain from scanning his body to see if he’s drunk. He’s not really sure if Aasimar getting drunk here is safe.

            “Do you come here often?” Shepherd asks quietly, eyeing the pristine glass, “the bartender seemed to know you.”

            “I come here every Friday,” Aasimar tilts his head, tracing the rim of his glass, “want a sip? It isn’t a necessity for you, but they gave you taste buds, right?”

            Shepherd gulps and eyes the glass before he nods, “may I?”

            Aasimar shifts the glass, pushing it towards Shepherd and he cocks his head to the side, “so, what do you think of this darling outing of ours?”

            There’s a quiet pause as Shepherd brings the glass to his lips, taking a small, unsure sip. It tastes bitter yet sweet all at once, with a citrus tang to it.

“This is… very nice. I didn’t expect to see others that were…. Similar to me.” Shepherd furrows his brows and he hums, “this is really good, do you get this often?”

“Plenty of people are mostly metal nowadays, gang fights, violence, the Institute, people lose limbs all the time. Some do it because it’s cool.” Aasimar glances at the people dancing on the floor, “sometimes. Other times I’ll get a mimosa, or something heavier depending on mood. You’re welcome to have as much of it as you’d like.”

Shepherd quiets and he watches Aasimar, “Aasi, what are we? Earlier, you said you were in an exclusive relationship. Did that… mean us?”

“I… yes, I did,” he tilts his head slowly, brows furrowed, “what do you want us to be, Shepherd? I want to do this on your terms, it only seems right.”

He thinks. Aasimar’s existence had brought him so much, helped him understand things he hadn’t really fully grasped yet. Being with him felt as natural as existing, and maybe Hannah was right. Maybe Shepherd might only adore him because of how integral he was to Shepherd’s discovering humanity, but… he’d rather have Aasimar, regardless of what it meant.

“I want,” he pauses and licks his lips, “I want to be your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend,” Aasimar hums and leans his head back, grinning, “yeah, I like the sound of that, Shep. My boyfriend. My sweet, big, perfect boyfriend.”

“You’re drunk,” Shepherd shies away, averting his gaze as his body heats up a few degrees, “should we get going back to the Institute? Hopefully walk it off before we make it there?”

“Mm, I’ve got a place, might be nice to spend the night outside of the Institute for once, if… you’re willing to try that, that is. New surroundings and all that.” He smiles lazily and downs the rest of his Pink Whitney. “What do you say, lovely boyfriend of mine?”

Shepherd snorts, “yeah, we can go. But I’ll feel better if I carry you. You don’t… look all there.”

Aasimar slow blinks and he grins, “piggyback? I’ll be good, promise.”

“Whatever you want, Aasi,” he snorts, and stands, offering a hand to him.

[monocytogenes]

Get to Know the Fanfic Writer

Tagged by @theluckywizard!

When did you post your first-ever fanfic?

Feb 2nd 2015 for ao3 (there's older stuff kicking around on the internet, I'm sure, but not that I'll lay claim to lol)

First Character(s) you wrote?

I was into Batman media back when I got on ao3, so folks like Jonathan Crane and Edward Nygma.

Main Character(s) you’re currently writing?

Pravin, my imperial agent. I've also got a WIP kicking around of his DAI version.

Character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan to soon?

I've technically written him a little outside of agent!Pravin's canon, but I'm hoping to eventually have some mainline stuff with Theron because his dynamic with Pravin is Pure Male Posturing, lol.

Fandom(s) you’re currently writing?

Swtor, Dragon Age: Inquisition

Platonic Pairing(s) you’re currently writing?

Male Imperial Agent & Vector Hyllus, Male Imperial Agent & Keeper (if you can call that platonic LOL it's like "these two having some kind of vaguely familial, messed up relationship"), Female Trevelyan & Original Character (Pravin and Thalia, actual family!)

Romantic Pairing(s) you’re currently writing?

Male Imperial Agent/Shara Jenn, Josephine Montilyet/Original Character

Your top AO3 tags? (go to works and click sort & filter)

Character Study

Hurt/Comfort

Male Friendship

(also lol "drug use" is on the list; thanks Pravin)

Current platform you use for posting?

Ao3 of course

Snippet of the WIP you are currently working on?

Here's a bit from a scene I haven't shared yet--Pravin musing on events at the end of the agent story, with a direct reference to my recent fic A Calculated Risk:

Would it matter in a few years’ time, amid commanders’ ambitions, profiteers’ encouragement and patriotic cries of honor and revenge? Would cutting the head off the cause make any difference, thin the projected casualties, hasten a diplomatic resolution? You know it did, Vector had told him in the feverish filth of that hotel on Nal Yeshu, as he’d insisted stopping Jadus hadn’t mattered a bit. The horror he’d endured in its wake, the unapologetic abuse that had lead him to walk open-eyed into a bureaucratic death—it had all been an agonizing descent from there, but in that brief, shining moment on the Dominator, his determination, his skill, his presence had meant something. Maybe that was all any of them could hope for: a fleeting instant of potency. To stand at that precipice and affect some semblance of justice.

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

I had to set aside my upgrade of some of the networking code changes I wanted to make on the project I’m on at work. That’s fine. I knew it would be a bit of a process to update this code and to be honest it may be a fools errand. But I still believe it would make the code more maintainable and eliminate two third party dependencies. But you have to be ready to sideline work like this when more pressing work shows up.

Here we go. I hope you enjoy the links this week.

Benj Edwards • Ars Technica

Gordon Bell, an architect of our digital age, dies at age 89

RIP 🪦

Tom Warren • The Verge

Microsoft has just announced a new Surface Pro, which is part of the new wave of Copilot Plus PCs. The new Pro, which is technically the “11th edition,” starts at $999, comes in four colors, and is powered by Qualcomm’s new Snapdragon X processors.

I don’t care about the AI stuff Microsoft announced and hopefully folks can turn it off because it sounds terrible but I do like seeing them ship new hardware with vastly improved performance. 👍🏼

Fingers crossed this one is a winner. 🤞🏼

Lance Ewing

There is nothing unusual about the outside of these disks, but there is something unique about the data that is stored on them, something that Sierra On-Line would have been totally unaware of and certainly wouldn’t have wanted them to include.

I love history stories like this! Back in my Visio days I was what we call a Configuration Engineer. I was in charge of our installer code and creating the final gold master disks — 720KB and 1.44MB — and CD, so I’m familiar with this process. I didn’t, however, have an imaging machine. We sent the masters out to a disk duplication service to mass produce them and put them in boxes with documentation.

Anywho, I never made a mistake like that, and this mistake was not the worst you could make. Hey, at least the code wasn’t there in plain text. You actually had to check space the OS has marked as free to find it. Remember kids, do a destructive format or a DoD wipe of space you’d like to be empty.

Kazuaki Nagata • The Japan Times

In a bid to break Apple and Google’s dominance of the smartphone app ecosystem, the Japanese government is looking to change rules on app markets and payments to stimulate competition.

Things are getting interesting for Apple and Google. At what point does Apple decide on a single strategy for managing the availability of third-party stores and installation of software outside of any store?

I can’t see Japan going for Apple’s “Core Technology Fee” but we’ll see as this moves forward.

John Gruber • Daring Fireball

Pixar Lays Off 175 Employees, 14 Percent of Staff, Shocking No One Who’s Tried Watching Their Recent Films

Harsh take from Gruber. The last Pixar Movie I saw was Onward and I liked it.

I don’t know if it’s that their movies are bad now. Maybe the magic has just worn off?

Jason Koebler • 404 Media

Google Is Paying Reddit $60 Million for F**ksmith to Tell Its Users to Eat Glue

This is a head scratcher. If LLMs are being trained on all of the Internet then we’re kind of screwed.

I’m not eating a pizza with glue in the sauce, ok. 🍕

Witney Seibold • /Film

Armitage didn’t even know his sword had been stolen until Peter Jackson brought it to his attention. He’d been equally surprised to have Orcrist join his possessions in the first place.

All I could think while reading this is how amazing it would be to have this sword hung above my fireplace. 🗡️

It’s a fun little story.

Chris Eidhof

This post is a look inside how (a small part of) SwiftUI works. I’m mainly writing this as part of my extended memory, so that I can go back to it and read about how it works.

This is the kind of post I need as a developer. Having experienced looks at part of the language you use daily is always helpful.

Swift continues to expand as a programming language and I wish the pace would slow a bit. I’m so far behind the curve it’s frightening. That’s what happens when you spend a year-and-a-half as a Director. Those dev skill wilt a bit and you get really far behind.

The good thing is nobody knows, or cares, if you’re using the latest and creates language features or frameworks. What they want is quality software.

I made note earlier this week that Tapbots beautifully designed and implemented Ivory app is written in Objective-C. Hey, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

(I reached out to Tapbots to see if that was still true. I didn’t receive a reply.)

Rachel Treisman • NPR

Elvis Presley’s granddaughter is suing to stop the planned foreclosure sale of his compound Graceland, alleging that the company involved not only forged documents, but doesn’t actually exist.

I really hope they’re able to get this sorted out in favor of Elvis’ estate. It seems Lisa Marie may have gone around the estate to get a loan from a dodgy entity that doesn’t really exist. I’ll keep an eye on this one.

Rich Turner • Microsoft Command Line

We are excited to announce the open-sourcing of Microsoft GW-BASIC on GitHub!

I’ve share my love for BASIC and it’s nice to see Microsoft release this code to the general public.

Hey, can you release the grammar for Microsoft Professional Basic v6.x? I’d like to have that for reasons. 😃

Sean Hollister • The Verge

At Build, Microsoft now says it’s adding native version control to File Explorer by integrating systems like Git, letting you see new changes and comments directly from the app.

They’re basically Sherlocking some small plug-in developers with these features. It was inevitable. I used an extension to File Explorer in the mid-2000’s with Subversion that did this very thing. It now does it for git.

Jamelle Bouie • The New York Times

All of this brings us to the most recent controversy surrounding the Supreme Court justice Samuel A. Alito. Not long after the Jan. 6 attack on the Capitol, my colleague Jodi Kantor reported last week, someone in the Alito household flew an inverted American flag in the front yard. The upside-down flag, a sign of naval distress, was one of the preferred symbols of the movement to “stop the steal” — a statement of solidarity with those who disbelieved the results of the 2020 presidential election and fought to return Trump to office against the rule of law and the verdict of the Constitution.

Now we know. Some of the Supreme Court justices are in bed with American Oligarchs and the MAGA movement. They need to be dismissed from the bench.

For a Supreme to openly show support for the overthrow of our country is pathetic and he needs to be held accountable.

[sirfuzzilypuffytouch]

That feeling when...

...you wanted to finish a sketch, but you still ended up procrastinating by playing video games and watching anime.... feels not so bad man.

[stateswscarlet]

Hi Scarlet! I saw your twt bio said no dms so I thought I would share my successes here that I got from your threads and content!

Bit of a background: I hovered over from the a+p girlies after affirming for 9-10 months for all my desires, using everything they taught and even putting full faith into thoughts and science manifesting. I would affirm almost nonstop (during work, school, even as I was eating/talking to others) for the entire time and I eventually got super frustrated! Not a single manifestation came in or even the slightest movement, maybe a butterfly and a car here and there (looking back at it its because I accepted seeing them internally and didn’t contradict that state, it wasn’t even the affirming). In March-ish I found your account on my timeline and previously I would ignore any states related information because I thought states were the same as dominant thoughts, but something about your thread at the time caught my attention which led me down a rabbit hole (positively!) of consuming your threads. I realized a lot of it actually made sense and explained why I didn’t see success so far.

Anyways so after a few weeks of learning about states I decided to stop overconsuming and stick to your account and edward art ONLY for all my manifestation needs. It was a little hard breaking free from the affirming mindset but I decided to focus on embodying how it would feel if I no longer had to worry about my thoughts and allowed that to wash over me. I used your “embody being the solution” thread SO SO much and I realized I was able to quickly solve all my internal issues using that because anytime I felt stuck, I just had to assume the feeling of being unstuck and what the ideal situation would be! I also fell in love with fulfilling my imagination and although I did care about experiencing it in the 3D, it was more like me not even thinking of it reflecting because its a LAW. I remember you saying you don’t even have to think about stuff reflecting because it does so anyways and my only role is to naturally give it to myself. So here is a list of some of my *bigger* manifestations that came in within a month-ish of me APPLYING states of being after I learned about it:

SP and I got back together after 8 months no contact and 11 months separation

My top choice graduate school which rejected me months ago actually reaching out to me offering me a spot saying the rejection was a “system error”

Free coachella tickets all expense paid in a luxury hotel that sponsored not only me but my boyfriend and 3 friends

My favorite makeup brand randomly sending me a HUGE package of makeup that I never ordered or asked for (I wanted more makeup from this brand)

My dad receiving a random check to clear his entire credit card debt of around a decade

A better job for my boyfriend that pays him double of his last one and has flexible hours that he didn’t need to apply for or interview and hes been loving it!

Free first class plane tickets to Bali this summer! I had already booked normal ones months before but last week I got an email saying my party had randomly been selected for a free upgrade. This happened like a day or so after I for fun assumed the state of someone who has a live of luxury.

I have other smaller successes but these are some of my main ones!I really want to thank you scarlet you have honestly changed my life and I can’t believe it truly was that easy all along! Thank you for your amazing threads, please continue dropping more (I literally have your notifs on haha)

AWW YAYYYYYAYAYS IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT!! You’re absolutely amazing🫶🏼

I dont even use this platform but just thought I would share this ❤️

[harrywavycurly]

Hi Sarah! I’m just wanting some convos between reader and her friends about husband Eddie. I know she gossips about their relationship to maybe Nancy and Robin? 😂🥰

Hiii babes!!! Oh yes of course she tells Nancy and Robin details about Eddie and their relationship! I hope you enjoy these😂💖

-find all things husband Eddie here✨

-I put a 💕 next to the convos that are with Nancy and ✨ means it’s a convo with Robin

*Robin wants all the details on your wedding night but instantly regrets it*

✨ “wait wait…you mean to tell me Eddie Munson did all that? No fucking way…” “you’d be surprised what he’s capable of.” “But he’s just…such a pushover…” “I mean yeah but that’s…outside of the bedroom.” “So what as soon as the lights go out he turns into this assertive dominant…man?” “Why did you say man like it was a question?” “Because i’ve always thought he identified as like a string bean but what you’re describing is…well no vegetable I know can do all that.” “You’re so annoying.” “So it was good then? Like better than it was before marriage?” “Oh totally better than before we were married…I don’t know why…maybe something about getting to call him my husband or something?” “I always knew you two were freaks.” “You’re the one who asked how it was.” “Yeah…I shouldn’t have done that.”

💕 “I’m going to kill him.” “What did he do now?” “He ate the last fucking bag of hot Cheetos and I don’t have a back up like I normally do because he’s making me lay off them for a bit.” “He’s making you take a cheeto break? Why?” “Fuck if I know! Something about it’s not good for me or some shit.” “I can tell you’re really mad…want to see if I have any?” “No…I just want you to tell me if it’s okay if I kill him or not.” “No you can’t kill him…you’d miss him the moment there’s a spider in the shower.” “That’s true he is good at killing spiders…damn him.” “You can always tell Wayne that Ed is being an asshole…” “i can’t use Wayne for everything…besides Wayne will be on his side he hates my hot Cheetos addiction.” “Those Munson men…what assholes.” “Right? So rude…and can’t even kill them because they’re so useful…so damn annoying.”

✨ “I’m sorry you said he did what now?” “He almost caught his hair on fire using the stove.” “Like…on fire on fire? Or it just got singed a bit?” “Oh it got singed a bit and set the smoke alarm off.” “I bet it smelled like ass didn’t it?” “It did…so from now on he has to have his hair up if he’s using the stove.” “And here I thought Steve was a fire hazard with all the product he has in his hair but turns out it was Eddie I should’ve been worried about.” “Steve keeps his hair short for a reason” “oh that makes so much sense! So it doesn’t combust!” “Exactly.” “That’s your man though…brunt hair and all.” “Yup that’s my man…gotta love him.” “I mean I don’t have to…but I get what you mean.”

💕 “Nancy! Guess what Eddie just got.” “A new hair mask?” “No…he does need one though his hair is looking a little blah.” “I liked the one he used to make his hair all shiny.” “Same it was nice…but it’s not hair related.” “Uh…new seat covers for the van?” “I fucking wish…the cracked leather is so annoying to sit on but he’s stubborn and super picky so sadly that’s also not it.” “Okay…a new guitar strap?” “God you’re not good at this…it’s a tattoo.” “Oh of what?” “He got my initial on his ring finger.” “Shut up no he didn’t.” “Oh but he did….” “Holy shit that’s…kinda romantic?” “Right? At first i was like what the fuck is wrong with you? But the more I was looking at it…it’s growing on me.” “Yeah? You gonna get his?” “Hell no…I already have a bat that matches his…that’s about all he’s getting.” “Let me see the font he used for your initial….oh that’s cute…yeah I like it.” “Yeah he said it’s mainly because he doesn’t like to wear his ring while at work so this will help keep the bitches away while he doesn’t have it on.” “Keep the bitches away? Does Eddie…get bitches?” “I mean he got me didn’t he Nancy? Edward James Munson would shock the shit out of with how many chicks are actually interested in him…so yeah he has to keep the bitches away.” “Well whatever works…is that the only one he’s getting for you?” “He has my name on his side…but yeah I think that’s it.” “I forgot about the name one…didn’t he get that when you two were broken up?” “He doesn’t like to talk about it…but yes.” “Right I forget he’s sensitive about that time in your relationship.” “He’s a sensitive little metal head.”

[houseofbrat]

The mental image of an airline pilot "twerking for Megz" will have me laughing for a good long while.

Overkill continues to be her tragic flaw. If she would just STFU at a little lie, she could have kept this con up for at least another five years. She always goes way too far and immediately exposes herself for the washed up, self-absorbed, talentless, and unintelligent twat that she is.

It speaks to Harry's collosal stupidity and frankly gross mismanagement that he was allowed to even cross her path. The more that I learn about how incredibly fucked up --to the point of actual emotional and borderline intellectual disability-- Harry is, I vacillate between awe that the Hero Harry narrative could even exist and bewilderment at the abject stupidity it took to let this reptile slither even close to Royal social circles, and it's down to two factors, I think.

Princess Eugenie was not properly managed. She and Harry were always very close and I think since, by comparison, Eugenie is a Rhodes Scholar next to Harry, the Palace failed to see that Eugenie was a weak link in a chain around Harry. She has her father's butthurt entitlement and her mother's tackiness and she should never have been near a SoHo house as even my white trash ass can see that the entire chain is gauche and noveau riche, and other french words that mean tacky and not befitting someone of Eugenie's station. I mean having a Princess of the Realm lounging around a SoHo house is pretty much like Her Late Majesty spending the night at a Best Western. I mean imagine spotting Queen Elizabeth II wearing flip flops and the Crown of Saint Edward standing in a vending machine line at the NoTell Motel at 2am. That is the level of shock that one should feel at Princess Eugenie being at a SoHo House and SoHo house is how this hoe got to Harry.

Sorry, Canada, but you also were not well-managed. And your first and second families also got quite tacky there for a while, which my homeland elected Donald Trump by somehow marrying the interests of evangelicals and people who wear American flag bikinis, so I get it, but even Donald J. Trump knew Meghan Markle was trouble. Jessica "Jess" Mulroney? Notsomuch. Can you imagine whatever Mike Pence's wife's name is making fishlips with MM on Insta? No? Well that's a problem. Sometimes you can be too chill, you know. Or maybe this has been your stategy for world domination all along, Canada, in which case my hat's off to you because I never expected a trifling two-bit nobody on a show I quite frankly was not aware even existed to get this far. Who even knew the USA Network even still existed? Like this has all happed way too fast. Five years ago I was like what is a Meghan Markle, and now here I am. It's probably my fault.

So yeah. Princess Eugenie and Canada. And me.

[henryjekyllsgender]

Henry Jekyll x Reader

Person: Henry Jekyll

Fandom: MazM Jekyll & Hyde

Pronouns for Y/N: She/Her

Genre: Angst

SFW/NSFW: SFW

Warning: Cheating

Authors Notes: This is so angsty I'm sorry 😭💀

Y/N's POV

Henry Jekyll.

The man I was planning to spend the rest of my life with.

I love how great and smoothly the planning is going, it gives me a lot of hope for us and our future.

My family and I are glad I won't be spending eternity alone in this cruel world, I was always quite a lonely child.

The only downside is that Henry kept going into his laboratory to finish up any experiments before our wedding.

I get that he was a doctor but should it really take up that much of his free time?

It was odd. Wouldn't he want to spend time with me? He had stopped greeting me when he would arrive upstairs. I would only get a nod or a small 'hello'. I guess he was just tired from all his work. He was a great doctor after all. One thing I had also noticed was how Emma Carew had been joining us for dinners lately and she'd go into the laboratory with Henry while I wasn't allowed near it.

Edward constantly telling me to 'be prepared for the worst' had also added to my worry. Hyde had never liked me so I assumed it was him trying to get rid of me again. I decided to let it go and simply think of our future together.

Just us, and probably Hyde. He was alright, I had started to grow fond of the heartless experiment. Maybe one day, we'd have children together. The life I'd always wanted.

I was currently on my way home from a day out with my younger sister. Henry thought it was a good idea since we didn't see each other a lot. She lived in the South West of England while I was in Soho.

I get to our shared Manor and open the front door, hoping to surprise Jekyll by being home early. He thought I was going to my sister's house for tea.

Once I opened the door however, I heard a high pitched giggle from his laboratory. It sounded familiar but I couldn't be too sure. He didn't mention having guests around but he was probably lonely by himself. I decided to ignore it and put the items I had purchased in my own personal office.

Jekyll didn't want me getting hurt so he separated our offices. He may act tough and dominant but he was a massive Softie at heart. I loved this man almost too much.

After I had finished sorting all my shopping into where they belonged, I made my way towards the doors of Henry's laboratory.

Poole noticed this and rushed over, looking guilty. 

"I'm very sorry ma'am but Dr Jekyll has requested that you not be let down until he says otherwise." Poole refused eye contact as he spoke. He was hiding something from me but I didn't know what.

I was extremely confused and wanted to press on the subject more to prevent my curiosity and confusion. Sure, Henry liked hiding his experiments sometimes but he'd never deny my entrance to the laboratory. I stared at Poole, hoping for some answers but nothing came from the man.

"Why can't I Poole? Is something the matter?" Poole shook his head. "I cannot say ma'am. I am dearly sorry if you find out though." That scared me a little bit and added to my Paranoia. I was eager to find out and I will find out why Henry's refusing my entrance.

TIMESKIP

It had been about an hour since I was told I couldn't go into the laboratory. I had a gut feeling that something bad was happening.

Since Poole was asleep and the other staff  were around other areas, I decided to listen to what's happening in the laboratory. I made my way over to the hallway where the tall, wooden doors stood. Inside was the smartest and most loveable man I knew.

I made my way to the doors quietly and tried to check. The door was ever so slightly opened.

I peeked in a small amount so it was unnoticeable but I could still see.

After a bit of adjusting, I could finally see the whole room. I took a look around then my eyes landed on his work desk.

I wish I never did.

I looked in and I saw Emma Carew kissing Henry Jekyll, the man I was supposed to marry.

I felt my entire body freeze with realisation.

Everybody had been sending me slight hints of the secret affair, even Hyde did.

How could I have been so stupid. I decided to not confront him.

I was going to leave instead. I would let him realise what he had done.

As I was packing some bags I had come to realise that all the 'I love you's were lies and all his kisses meant nothing. I let out a painful sob. I couldn't hold back any longer.

I guess Henry and Emma had noticed because I heard him ushering her out the house before heading upstairs, towards our shared bedroom that would be turned into his own. "Darling is everythi- what on earth are you doing? You didn't mention a holiday." I refused to even look at the man and I continued shoving everything I could in bags. Henry grew impatient. 

"When I speak to you, I would like a reply." I still refused. I was tired of him. Igot up, holding my very full bag close. I continued to ignore him and headed downstairs. Henry sighs and follows me.  "Darling I don't have time for this. Our dinner is in 30 minutes." I turn to look at him with angry tears flowing down my face.

His face turned from annoyance to concern like he didn't know what he was doing just now that had caused my pain. "Oh my poor Y/N, whatever is the matter?" Henry held my hand, gently rubbing his thumb over my knuckle. I pulled my hand away, surprising the doctor.

"You know exactly what you were doing Jekyll. I saw what you and Carew were doing in your laboratory. I should've listened to Hyde's warning." With that, Henry Jekyll was speechless for once. His face held a look of regret. Tears started to form in his eyes as he tried to figure out what to say.

"My dear, I'm so sorry you had to witness that. Our meetings are purely just because we get rather lonely." I stopped his rambling "You're the one who would leave me alone in the house. You pathetic man. Go marry Emma, I'm sure she pleases you better." With that, I exited the Manor. I felt a wave of sadness hit me but I refused to cry. Not in front of the man who caused this. I wasn't thinking straight at this moment but I had one name on my mind.

Henry Jekyll.

The man I was supposed to marry.

I wish it was still that way. It would've been if it wasn't for Emma Carew.

Now I'm left here alone for eternity in this cruel world.

[tonesplash]

Bikini Lunchtime Part 2 (18+)

pairing: edward cullen x reader

warnings: smut ;), vaginal fingering, slight choking but not really he just puts his hand on ur throat, uuuuh getting caught kinda, reader has a mom

a/n: maybe a part 3 bc ed boy did get cucked

read part one here

"You're speeding." Edward lifts his mouth from the space behind your ear to remind you, and then goes right back to drawing your attention away from the speedometer.

"This is aAh-" You lose your concentration when his tongue swaths hotly up your throat before flicking back into his mouth when it reaches your earlobe. You can feel his smile against your skin. "A lot coming from the guy who hates driving below the triple digits."

One of his heater-warmed hands comes down to knead your thigh as he continues in his effort to wrap the both of you around a tree. "There's just one more turn, (Y/n), I'm sure you can manage." 

Yeah, that and like thirty-something trashcans you want to say, but then he's leaning in again, and without thinking, you clasp your non-dominant hand over his forehead to stop him long enough for you to concentrate. You weren't strong enough to hold him still, but Edward relents nonetheless and allows you to keep him in place as you do your best to park with one hand while he helpfully manages the parking brake. 

"You better make this worth my time, Cullen." You smile in anticipation as your seatbelt whips back into its holder. "It's cold as hell today, and I don't feel like fronting for the electricity bill."

”If you feel cheated at the end of the day, I'll pay it for you.” Edward grins as he kisses your temple and sits back in his seat to disembark.

He's lucky your neighbors aren't nosy because he appears at your car door in a flash, already reaching to help you out with your school bag slung over his shoulder and food trash neatly tied off in the bag it came in. You turn off the engine and hop out to meet him on the sidewalk as you trail towards the front door. You take quick notice of the extra weight in the bag.

"Why won't you just let me trash my car the way I want to? I saw the fries from under my seat were also gone this morning." You squint suspiciously at him over your shoulder as you blindly attempt to unlock the door while simultaneously intimidating him. 

”It was starting to smell like a compost bin.” Edward can only stand you fumbling with your keys for a few seconds before he just takes them from you and opens it himself. Once inside, he hangs your bag on the hook by the door while you slip off your shoes and shrug off your jacket in a vain attempt to make it upstairs before him.

”Well, I think your car smells like a Bath and Bodyworks, what do you think is worse?” You take the stairs two at a time while he effortlessly matches your pace, one hand on the small of your back to keep you from slipping.

”I’d say the health hazard. Without me, you'd definitely have roaches by now.” His dry laugh echoes from behind you and makes you giddy with anticipation. You playfully roll your eyes and shuck your shirt over your head as he opens your bedroom door. The way you eagerly shove and tug off your clothes down to your underwear is hardly a striptease, but it doesn't bother either of you as you scamper over to your underwear drawer to grab your new attire.

"Okay now you-" You hold the bundle of cloth under one arm as you grab his shoulders and guide him to sit on the end of your bed. "-stay right here, I'll be right back!" 

His chuckle follows you out into the hall as you scamper over to your bathroom and shut the door behind you. Your foot misses the leg hole of the bottoms three whole times before you have to stop yourself and take a steadying breath to calmly step into them like a normal person.  

Despite your clear excitement that he can no doubt smell in the air and read in your mind, you decide to tease him a bit as you approach the bedroom. You balance on one leg against the door, gripping the knob as you creep it open and stick your leg through the opening up to your knee. 

"Is this doing anything for you?" You giggle and wiggle your toes in the general direction of the bed.

"Be careful, (Y/n), when you fall through that door you're gonna be very embarrassed." You can still hear the smile in his voice as you almost immediately prove his point by taking an awkward hop forward to balance and accidentally exposing your entire leg at once in your effort to stay upright.

"I'm trying to think of what my entrance song would be but I'm coming up blank. You're gonna have to fill it in yourself." When you peek through the door, you can see his eyes have a laser focus on your thigh. 

"Cellophane." Edward replies without blinking. 

Confused and a little offended, you shove the door open all at once.

"That is so rude! What exactly are you tryi-"

Without warning, Edward crowds you against your door, one hand already lifting your leg to curl around his hip while he covers your mouth with his own. His tongue sweeps from your bottom lip to the roof of your mouth, sucking your tongue and making you shiver between the cold wood of the door and the hard plane of his chest.

His opposite hand strokes down your side, trailing lightly around your breast and ribs until it comes down to cup you through your bottoms. You gasp and break the kiss to bow your head into his shoulder and watch but he won't let you, the hand at your hip leaving to cradle the side of your neck, thumb resting over your windpipe, holding you steady against his mouth while teases you through the nylon.

You arch your hips into his hand and lose yourself in his taste, careful of his teeth lest you prick yourself and have him swear off frenching until the end of time.

Edward releases the kiss with a wet smack, the trail of spit still connecting your lips sticking to your skin as he dives lower to worship your throat.

Pausing his ministrations, he adjusts his hold to be firmly under your ass, his tongue gliding up your sternum as he lifts you above him in one smooth motion. You squeal and cling to his shoulders as he smoothly carries you across the room and gently lays you out amongst your pillows.

Edward climbs to kneel over you, ravishing your mouth with his own, one knee between your legs to grind on as his fingers creep up your sides to tease your breasts, kneading at first, then extending each thumb to play with the bud of your nipples when they strain against your top. The kiss becomes sloppier, spittle trailing down your cheek as you both lose yourself in the sensations.

Your growing desperation overcomes you when he lightly pinches the tips of your breasts, pulling away to shove the thin fabric under your chest, exposing yourself to the open air and his wanton gaze.

“So impatient.” Edward huffs a small laugh, spreading his cool breath over your chest, further pebbling your nipples. He maintains eye contact as he trails slow, reverent kisses down and over your breasts until you can feel the presence of his lips just beyond the skin. 

“For someone with super speed, you sure like to take your time.” You quip and arch yourself into him just as his tongue creeps out to flick against your nipple, eliciting a whimper before it grinds into the sensitive skin, pressing it flat before he snakes an arm under you to further prostrate your chest and sucking your teat into his mouth.

Your reaction is immediate and involuntary, a sharp gasp, spine arching to the nth degree, toes curling against his slacks until he releases you with a pop and pushes his leg harder into your slit, going back to sucking, licking, laving your bud against the cold slick of his tongue until it glistened between you.

You could hardly keep quiet now, moaning and squirming, tugging his hair as he switches sides,  hoping, praying that no one would come home early to find you like this. Edward sweeps his tongue over your neglected breast, bathing it in his spittle and sucking until the buildup of sensitivity becomes too much and you have to shove him away before you cum on his thigh and embarrass yourself.

“I would've liked it, at least.” He smirks before leaning in for another kiss, and laying down next to you, your core disconnecting with a wet smack from the stain that had soaked through to his pants. Your face burns red and your pussy almost feels numb with neglect until his lips are on your throat again and his unused hand pushes past your bottoms, gathering your abundant slick.

He scoots closer to your side, his arm a stark white contrast against your skin with his hand shoved into your bottoms, knuckles straining against the fabric while he rubs your clit into a frenzy.

"Oh, fuck," you moan and toss your head against his shoulder, sensations overwhelming. 

You feel dazed, unfocused, and you can't decide if you want to watch the near frantic movement of his arm or lose yourself in the dirty sounds and sensations and let your eyes glaze over. You think you can hear the front door open, but you're far too wrapped up in him to care.

Edward moans against your temple, empathetic to your pleasure as he switches tactics, two fingers slipping in, while his thumb continues stimulating your clit. It's a tight fit at first but the mild sting adds to your pleasure, and you raise a knee to give him a better angle. The fingers inside of you begin to curl, teasing that spot deep inside, and one of your hands immediately shoots down, death gripping the wrist working at you as you begin to throb.

"You're so wet, and warm." His words are breathless against your temple, straining to not groan full volume into your ear. You involuntarily clench around him.

"I can taste you in the air, and you're so sweet and soft, do you think I'll have time to taste you before anyone gets home, sweetness?" At the last word, he openly moans with you as his thumb rubs upwards, bypassing the hood of your clit while curling his fingers against the softest spot inside of you.

The effect is immediate, your cresting shout is hastily muffled by the palm of his unoccupied hand bracing over your open mouth, and you whimper when he doesn't stop grinding his fingers against that spongy spot on your inner wall, wringing as much cream as you can give onto his hand, even as whoever just came home pauses at the top of the stairs at the sound your blankets rustling when your leg jerks out with overstimulation. You reach out and hitch your knee upwards again to hold it still.

"Can you cum on my hand, darling? And not make a sound?" You sob against his palm. "I want to feel you cum on my hand again, but I can't do that if you're too loud, alright?" 

The nod you give is shaky and stifled by the restriction of his hand, but he has mercy as his fingers start to curl again, and you both watch them writhe under your bikini bottoms in the low light of your covered window, as they disappear in your heat and come up again with the slickest of sounds.

When your thighs stop twitching and the overwhelming stings of overstimulation build into a pleasant hum, Edward pulls his hand out and pulls away to undress, before disappearing in a blink when your bedroom door dents the wall, revealing your very pissed off mother.

Later that night you'd argue whether the loud schlick of your cum on his hand or the ensuing slap of your thighs slamming shut with your ruined orgasm is what got you caught playing hooky on a autumn weekday alone in your bedroom in nothing but an askew bikini.