The Devil Works Hard But Fanfic Writers Work Harder

the voices... of course, I had to make this AU??!

teaching ethan how to kiss <333 (except idk how to kiss) this is cliche and not my best work but i like the idea :))

when ethan texts you, you’re walking back to your dorm after spending a little too long in the shower. your skin is moisturized, but your face is dry, lacking the layers of moisturizer to lay on the sensitive area which awaits you in your dorm room. 

you hold your shower caddy in one hand, and your phone in the other. your eyebrows wrinkle as you look at the text. 

ethan 😵‍💫

can i ask you for a favor?

you type a quick reply, letting autocorrect fix the mistakes. 

yeah ig 

his message makes your eyes widen. 

ethan 😵‍💫

can you teach me how to kiss … please 

it’s a question that shocks you, makes you have to consider the words on the screen before you can even think of a reply. 

what makes you think ik how? 

idk lucky guess? 

you smile a little, your hand turning around the knob of your dorm room. you cast a glance over to ethan and chad’s room, deciding on your answer. 

sure i will e. come to my dorm in 25

and he’s there on the dot. three timid knocks ringing against the wood. you’re glad that mindy decided to spend the night with anika, because explaining this situation to her would take entirely too long and too much brain power. plus it would result in a lecture about “not trusting anyone”. 

nothing you could handle when ethan was sitting on your bed, his eyes watching his hands, and a visible weight upon his shoulders. 

“so why do you wanna learn how to kiss all of a sudden?”

he shrugs, refusing to meet your eye even when the bed dips with your weight. you’ve changed from your bathrobe into a pair of shorts and a large, frayed shirt. both of your attire is true to how late it is, ethan donning a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a shirt that looks like it came from 2009 (warewolfs in the night sky). 

“i .. um ..” he huffs out a large breath of air. “i wanna ask a girl out and i know i wanna kiss her at the end of our maybe date but i don’t wanna scare her off with my lack of experience.” 

your heart swells at the sentiment, but there’s a tug of pain to know that someone as attractive as ethan has his eye on someone that’s not you. it’s not like you even attempted to make your interest obvious, though, so you don’t allow yourself to be too upset. 

Afficher davantage

🧩 ᯓ★୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

STARRING. ノ geto ✦ gojo ✦ choso

summary. ノ as a princess, you need a knight to keep both your body and heart safe from harm. luckily, he's got that covered.

word count. ノ 6.6k

contains. ノ royalty!au, princess!reader x knight, some suggestive content but nothing explicit, fem coded reader bc princess

gia's notes. ノ this draft has been sitting at the VERY bottom of my notes but i've finally dug it up and blown the dust off of it hehe. i have more ideas for this premise so if anyone asks i'll do a part two. eagerly.

GETO SUGURU ⌇ despite his politeness, there's more to him that lies below the surface

when you first met geto suguru, the most prominent thought in your mind was just how surprisingly pretty he was to be a mere knight. his delicate features and unblemished face seemed more fitting to be that of a nobleman's, and when he kneeled to you to swear his loyalty, his every movement was dictated with a gracefulness that suggested he was born royal.

always smiling, always alert, always vigilant, geto now accompanied you in your daily life like a second shadow. and while there had been... admittedly few attempts on your life, you chalked that up to his talent rather than a lack of conspiracy.

you had asked him one night when you had sneaked too much drink during a feast and you were too loose-lipped on your way back to your chambers, why his face was so handsome if he was just a knight.

he had merely laughed at your drunken question, readjusting his grip on you as he half-carried, half-guided you back.

"i'm handsome because nobody's been able to lay a finger on me."

you were quite fond of him, beyond his ability to keep you safe. you may be naive but you weren't stupid- you knew how others looked at the pair of you, how scandalous it was for the princess and her handsome knight to be so close with each other, in public at that.

it was incredibly apparent at balls and other royal events- ever so cumbersome, but still a requirement- that you always made sure to drag geto along to, no matter the security detail. and if you had personally ensured that he wears clothing befitting of a royal, and more importantly matched your gown every time, who wouldn't jump to conclusions?

in all honesty, you liked the attention it drew to the pair of you. you revelled in the glances shot your way, zeroed in on your hand looped around his arm or the way his encircled your waist, looking more like a courtier than a bodyguard.

you liked how the other women of the court looked at you with not just disgust, but with jealousy, because you knew that they certainly knew that geto suguru is a very handsome man. and no matter how much they stare, the fact that he was firmly attached to you would never change.

and if they hated you, let them come. geto would keep you safe, anyway.

whilst you were more than happy to live life as you were (the same as always with no real responsibility), the world continued its course, and you found yourself being suddenly thrust into something that you never imagined would happen this soon- a removal of your freedom.

that wasn't its official title, of course. a marriage proposal is what it had been presented to you as. to some poncey prince from a neighbouring kingdom in the name of keeping peace and good relations with neighbours- it was enough to make you feel sick.

you remembered ranting about it to geto that night in your bedchambers- yes, he was in them whether it was permissible or not- him merely chuckling at your rage while leaning against one of the walls, watching as you paced the room, waving your arms fervently to accentuate your frustration.

"relax, your highness. you'll still have me, after all." his words have an effect on you, admittedly, and it's comforting to find some constancy in him.

on nights where you let your imagination take over, it's quite easy to imagine him as a prince, one who courts you and you fall for and eventually marry- a mere fantasy to escape from this world.

despite your wishes, despite the rumours, the royal engagement continues. you haven't even met your fiancé, yet the marriage is due to happen this spring- symbolising the fresh beginnings of this joyous union.

geto had been gracious enough to accompany you on your newly-developed habit of taking long walks around the castle in favour of sleeping. you might as well memorise every nook and cranny before you'd be forced out of here- kicking and screaming, no doubt.

despite geto's best efforts, the joy you once found from life in the castle was quickly draining, merely fluff to pad the days leading up to the inevitable date.

an arrangement to meet this prince in person was very quickly procured out of nowhere- you couldn't remember his name for the life of you- and you found yourself going through the motions of being even more dolled up for a special ball with little to no enthusiasm. there was once a time where you would be bursting with delight at the beauty looking back at you in the mirror, though now it felt like you were being trussed up in the same sense the cooks were preparing the roasted animals on golden platters for everyone to feast on.

you were just meant to look as appetising as possible. you felt like a prize cow. anything in the name of peace.

you heard someone clear their throat from behind you- your eyes flicked up to your mirror to see geto stood behind you, his gaze particularly soft. you smiled at his outfit, equally exquisite in its brocade and material as yours. a perfect pair.

"i know i say this every time i see you, but you look especially radiant tonight, your highness." and just like that, you're glad to be so dressed up.

"thank you, sir geto." his lips twitch at the official title, but he extends his arm out for you to take nonetheless. "you look very handsome yourself." his cheeks go a shade darker, barely noticeable. you see it, though.

"how could i manage without you?"

the ballroom was decorated even more lavishly in commemoration of tonight- a decadent gold being the setting for this glorious occasion. you hoped that the prince would live up to the grandeur. or at the very least, not be completely hideous to look at. he'd never look as good as geto.

there were a lot of formal introductions. you always had hated curtsying, but the practice you were forced to endure paid off- you were nothing less than perfectly gracious as you met the officials of the neighbouring kingdom, and then, finally, the prince. he winked at you before kissing your hand and asking you to dance. you would rather dance with someone else.

at least the prince wasn't ugly. with the way he looked at you, though, you had to try not to let your nose wrinkle in disgust as you read the lechery in his eyes. was this really who you would be bound to 'til death do you part?

he stank of wine as the two of you danced. you were surprised that he wasn't toppling over, with the way that his words were already slurring. you tried your best to smile and nod along, though you couldn't help your eyes from wandering over his shoulder, settling on the figure of geto stood on the edge of the dancefloor.

you longed for him to be the one before you, and judging by the look on his face, it's what he would have wanted too. even jealousy looked good on him, his narrowed eyes and set jaw infinitely more handsome than the prince's leering one that you barely avoided as he lurched towards you, a little too close for this courtly dance.

geto jerked forwards at this, hands automatically settling on his sword. his eyes met yours, a silent plea to let it go exchanged before he begrudgingly relinquished his defensive stance. his little action still sent a thrill running through you nonetheless, something to cling to as an affirmation that he cared in more than a professional sense.

you let your thoughts wander as you danced, and you didn't do much to try and reel them back in. would it really be so bad to become wedded to a knight? it was unheard of, but there was a first time for everything, you supposed. you wouldn't mind no longer being a princess, as long as you were with him.

that realisation snapped you back to reality, just as the ending notes of the song played. your mandatory dance was over, and you curtsied to the prince before excusing yourself, weaving your way through the crowd of nobles until you reached the outskirts of the ballroom. your whole world felt like it had been tipped on its axis with this revelation, and even then you couldn't help but seek him out.

it was like an invisible force drew you together as you all but crashed into geto, him steadying you and immediately taking in the no doubt frenzied look in your eyes.

"are you alright, your highness?"

"i'm alright, just need to get some air."

geto nods dutifully, keeping hold of one of your arms as he navigates the crowd, slipping the both of you out of a side exit, the noise of the ballroom immediately drowning out as the door shut behind you.

"is that better, your highness?" your heart warmed at the genuine concern written over his face, and you nodded gratefully.

"much better."

the pair of you walk in silence for a few minutes, retracing the same routes of the castle that you had both become so accustomed to recently. it was comfortable to be with him, no matter the occasion.

"you know, i wish i could dance with you." it wasn't quite a confession, but it would do for now. geto paused for a second, and you saw him turn to look at you in the corner of your eye.

"there may be no music playing right now, but it would be an honour to have this dance, your highness." he bows down low, a mockery of etiquette, and you giggle before slipping your hand into his outstretched one. he's smiling as he straightens back up, his other hand curling around your waist with a gracefulness that would put the entire royal court to shame.

the dimly lit corridors became your private ballroom, and geto led you down them nimbly. another giddy laugh escaped you as he raised his arm, letting you twirl freely before bringing you close to him again.

it's a back and forth that you enjoy being led through, wondering to yourself just where he learnt to dance like this but not finding the heart to complain about it. it was a sweet moment amidst the growing realisation that this would most likely be ripped from you as you are forced to move to a different kingdom, away from everything that you've ever known. well, almost everything.

one particular turn has you stumbling ever so slightly, the questionable gap left between you and geto fully closing as your head collides with his chest. his arms instinctively protect you, effectively encasing you against him, leaving you to merely stare up at his face with a dumbfounded look on your face.

"your highness?"

he looked so much more handsome up close, and the torchlight cast shadows that only accentuated his features. you could count his eyelashes from here, feel the slight rise and fall of his chest against your own as you both leaned in ever so slightly- just a few more inches and your faces would be-

a noise from the end of the hallway distracts you, and your focus slips from the man before you to whatever lay behind him

you're horrified by what you see before you. it's that very prince, your fiancé, nestled in one of the darker corners castle, and he wasn't alone. your brain took a little longer to comprehend what was happening, but with the way the woman he was with was pressed up against the wall, caged in by his arms, and the little moans that echoed against the stony walls, it didn't take a genius to figure it out.

"let's go." you sounded so robotic, a ringing in your ears making your voice sound a thousand miles away as you began to retrace your steps, taking you further away from the transgression you just saw. you were vaguely aware of geto talking to you, but your thoughts were too overpowering to properly process anything other than the rising tide of emotion quickly consuming you.

you could barely turn the next corner before you felt yourself start to break down, tears that you fought so hard to contain tracking down your face. even with your back to him, geto read you like a book, placing a hand on your shoulder in some sort of attempt to comfort you.

you took it as an invitation to turn around, burying your face in his chest and letting yourself properly cry as his arms wrapped around you, one rubbing circles on your back and the other petting your hair.

"i wish you were a prince, geto," you sobbed into his tunic. your knight merely chuckled, continuing to stroke your hair as he let you stain the expensive clothing with your tears.

"i do too, your highness." his tone is light, but you still detect the underlying sincerity. it doesn't do much to stop your tears, though, until you feel one of his hands cup your face. these hold more evidence of him being a knight, with rough callouses marring his otherwise flawless hands. his fingers brush back the strands of hair that have come loose from your elegant updo, lingering a moment too long.

"besides, why cry, your highness? you and i both know that your heart does not belong to him." his hand's still on your face, fingers now hooking underneath your chin, raising your gaze to meet his. his smile's coy, and you both can read between the lines of what he's saying. it had been rather obvious for a while now.

that your heart lay a lot closer to home. that maybe the rumours were right.

"you'll always have me."

GOJO SATORU ⌇ he's two whole years younger than you

officially, the title of royal knight carries a certain air of poise, of authority and grace that forces your spine a little straighter whenever you cross paths with them. but never did you think that this man would be the one entrusted with your life and safety in general.

you were more mature than him, and that's saying something. and despite his insistence on being one of the strongest, in your eyes he certainly didn't act like it. but if he was appointed as your personal bodyguard, then that must mean that he did something worthy enough to fulfil the role, right?

despite your slight doubts, you didn't actually have anything against him. on the contrary, you rather enjoyed his presence. he wasn't afraid to make himself known, and you much preferred the thought of him as an animate person than some silent looming shadow that mirrored your every step.

besides, he wasn't half bad to look at.

you especially liked it when he was in the mood to humour you and your questions, opening up a little about his life before becoming a knight- of the small village he used to live in, the beauty of life beyond the castle walls, and his stories intrigued you, invoking a childlike wonder that hadn't been piqued in years.

satoru had told you of one particular festival- a lantern ceremony to celebrate a bountiful autumn's harvest. it was one you had heard of, had seen always from a distance, the faint lights of hundreds of paper lanterns floating into the sky mere pinpricks that blend into the stars from your vantage point of the castle window.

he has a knack for storytelling, too- for better or worse. he spins gold with his tongue, painting a picture so lovely and vibrant that you are compelled to see it in person- whether it is as wondrous as the knight claims it to be.

and gojo has always been up for a challenge.

"satoru."

"princess y/n." he's amused, already knowing what your proposition will be before you utter another word.

"how good are you at keeping me safe?"

"incredibly, why?"

"i'd like you to take me to see this festival in person."

he had to decline at first- he had a duty to fulfil, after all- but you demand, you implore, you even beg in order to get him on board.

he was willing to do so the very first time you mention it, the gleam in his eye giving his true intentions away, but he plays along, getting a kick out of the desperation in your voice. you whine about how you are the princess and it's his job to do what you ask- and he laughs, throwing his hands up in mock defeat with an obliging "as you wish, your highness."

and thus begins your daring expedition to sneak out of the castle and back in completely undetected.

it's an operation carried out under the guise of night, the pair of you in cloaks and dressed inconspicuously. it's a simple plan, too. the gardens below your bedchamber's window is not a commonly patrolled area, and it's laughably easy for gojo to slip out of the window first and jump down the few metres until he lands on grass. he lands like it's nothing, smiling back up at you and motioning for you to join him.

it's a leap of faith, the crossing of a boundary as you swing your leg over the windowsill, feeling the fear kick in as you see just how high up you are. but you see gojo, too, his bright hair and eyes looking up at you encouragingly, and you swallow that fear.

"i'll catch you," he promises.

and he does. it's a soft landing, all things considered, as you land in his arms that are deceptively solid beneath you. you yelp as you fall- it couldn't be helped- but it's short-lived as you find yourself face to face with satoru.

he seems as equally stunned as you at the proximity of your faces, but the moment passes quickly for him, his signature practised grin coming back on to his face as he gently touches your feet to the ground.

"good to go, princess?" you nod, still reeling. he offers you an arm, half-joking, and you take it with a pleased smile.

gojo knows the castle grounds like the back of his hand- leading you to a concealed door in the outer wall, slipping through it like a shadow with you in tow. it wasn't until now that you saw him in his element, not sitting around like a lazy cat like he so often did in your presence.

he's more alert, alive, lithe body moving with purpose. it's nice to see him like this, without all of the bulky armour and constraints of the castle walls. the tension leaves him, his gait changing, and you feel the adrenaline course through your veins as the two of you officially make it outside of the castle.

you try to memorise every step you take, the way the ground feels against your shoes, the feeling of the breeze rushing unfiltered against your face. it's surreal, this taste of freedom, and you feel the urge to laugh like a maniac.

your hand slips from its grasp of gojo's bicep, letting you drift away from your knight in favour of pausing to squat down and inspect the brightly coloured flowers that grew on the path.

it was a mere tulip- nothing that you had ever seen before, the castle favouring more exotic species to showcase than some simple thing that you could pluck from the ground. but it was beautiful, all the same.

you felt gojo pause, letting you have your moment uninterrupted before you stand, beaming up at him.

"the outside world is very beautiful."

"indeed it is, princess. just wait until you see the lanterns up close."

it wasn't too far to reach his hometown, so he said. it was a comfortable walk, the terrain not too demanding. and finally, with the last stretch of land, you saw it.

"oh, wow."

if anything, satoru didn't do it justice in his stories. there's another element that you had never anticipated, of the music coursing throughout the town, breathing life into the people. everything was so much more colourful, more beautiful up close.

the closer you approach it, the more it comes into focus, and you don't try to hide your awe as you take in the surroundings. you don't turn your head to see the way your knight is smiling down at you, a soft look in his eyes.

and while it may make his job a pain sometimes, satoru's thankful that you're so oblivious to his surroundings and the ways he pines after you gone unnoticed. he had never exposed this part of himself before, the small nostalgic part of him that treasured unblemished memories of his childhood, now walking arm in arm with a princess and pointing out each little nook and cranny that he used to play in.

the pair of you finally make it to the inner part of the festivities, where there are countless stalls set up with all kinds of goods being sold. satoru stands back, letting you pour over each individual item, oohing and aahing as the vendors explain what they are.

you do this for... quite some time, until you settle upon a small jewellery stand. it was nothing like you had ever seen worn by nobles, fashioned out of colourful stones and leather cord instead of the gold and silver inlaid with precious gems. it intrigued you, the beautiful polished stone somehow being the most elegant thing you had ever laid eyes upon. and like a bloodhound, the lady running the stall sidled up to you and satoru.

"and for the beautiful couple, what can i interest you in?"

"oh, we-" you laugh, all pitchy as you get flustered, but satoru takes this in stride, simply wrapping his waist around you and pulling you closer together. he always had been one to toe the line.

"i think that my darling here had her eye on that necklace." he nods towards the very one that had caught your attention, you glancing at him in surprise, unaware that he even noticed such details. he merely winked in return as the lady beamed, taking it off its hook and holding it out to you.

"a fine choice, indeed! the rose quartz is said to bring luck to you in all romantic endeavours." you blush as you accept the necklace, satoru paying for it before you could get a single word in. he waved off any protests, merely taking the necklace from your hands before lifting it to fit around your neck.

his fingers brush against the soft skin at your nape, a little shiver rippling from it as he moved your hair onto one of your shoulders, out of the way of the cord.

"it looks beautiful on you." you try not to read into the sincerity emanating from his gaze, bowing your head graciously from the compliment before looping an arm around his, letting satoru guide you through the rest of the village.

you ended up in the main square, watching as some officials released the lanterns, how each one floated upwards until they became pinpricks in the sky. your gaze drifted towards the castle looming, and you felt some heaviness return to your heart.

the night had to come to an end, after all.

satoru sensed your shift in mood, offering a sympathetic smile before the pair of you trudged back, retracing your steps to return to your chambers without getting caught.

for a few minutes, before you properly laid down to rest, you caught yourself toying with the necklace, unable to stop the grin that spread across your face as you thought of the magical night with satoru, and his unseen side.

and as you woke up the next morning, the events of the past few hours were hard to see as more than a dream. but as you rise, you gaze at your reflection in the vanity next to your bed again, and you see the cord of the necklace still peeking out past the neckline of your nightgown.

there's a knock on your door, too, and you see your knight's face peek from around the corner.

"good morning, satoru."

"good morning, princess. did you sleep well?" there's a practised formality in his tone, but you don't miss his expression, the smile that threatens to slip onto his face.

it'll be a secret between just the two of you.

CHOSO KAMO ⌇ there wasn't a single doubt in your mind that this man wouldn't put his life on the line for you

however, it wasn't so certain from the start. when you were first introduced to choso, he was polite. he looked you in the eyes, kneeled to you, pledged his allegiance, but what struck you most was the anger that his gaze met you with.

it was like being scalded, making you shrink back from the sheer intensity. you couldn't get a read off of him apart from that cool anger, one that you weren't even sure was directed at you or not.

it was only through gossip overheard by the maidservants that you learnt of his prospects before being appointed as your bodyguard.

the most promising of his rank, on course to become the youngest commander in the military in the past century. he would have been set for life, the salary enough to support his entire family- yet he's now responsible for babysitting a spoilt princess.

it's what they had said, after all.

and the more you thought about it, the more awful you felt. you understand now why he looked at you like that, that pointed gaze with all its burning intensity. why he looked like he would rather be anywhere else within the castle than at your side.

it's improper to assume responsibility for anything as a member of the royal family, but you do so anyway and apologise to him one night- borderline tearful, your emotions besting you as you finally cave in and tell him about how you think he hates you.

and he stops you mid-sentence, confusion written across all of his features.

"milady... i'm afraid you've got it all wrong."

it was an awkward conversation, to say the least. you had never really been exposed to someone like him before- to have such a rigid sense of duty and seriousness that it translated as hatred was unheard of, even for the castle.

and despite this revelation, choso's stiff upper lip did not waver. his intertwined sense of duty was a tricky thing to peel away from him.

but it's a task that you were willing to commit to. you'd be spending a lot more time with him, after all, and you'd much rather get to know choso as a person if that was the case.

and so began your futile efforts of breaking down choso's barriers. you felt like a petulant child, always asking him questions that he would either blank or answer with an occasional grunt.

you were glad that news travels fast within the castle- any gossip about the princess' handsome new knight was a snippet of information that you hung onto eagerly.

it appears that you weren't alone in harbouring an interest in the young knight- if the excited chattering of maidservants and the way that they squealed over every interaction with him was any indicator.

for some reason, hearing them gush over the way his muscles looked when he was practising swordfighting in the barracks, or how strong he was when he helped carry in heavy sacks of grain rubbed you the wrong way. it lit a fire underneath you that made you all the more eager to get to know him well and truly before anybody else did.

you seemed to have struck gold about sir choso when you overheard one maidservant admit to having grown up in the same village as him- how she remembered that his family used to own a horse that him and his brothers loved more than anything else when growing up.

amidst the oohs and aahs of this revelation, a plan started to hatch in your mind. one that came into fruition the very next day as choso accompanied you on your morning walk around the royal gardens.

"say, choso, have you ever ridden a horse before?"

out of all of the questions and hints about him that you've posed, you've never seen such a reaction from him before. he starts, and out of the corner of your eye you see him almost puff up with excitement, and your ears strain, eager to hear what he has to say before you see him school his features once again, and the moment is bitterly over.

"it was part of my training to become a knight, milady. why do you ask?"

it was no matter if he didn't want to open up yet, you can be patient. and spend a little longer playing dumb about just how much you know about him.

"well, i was thinking of doing something slightly different today." he raises an eyebrow, prompting you to continue. "i wanted to go horse-riding." he pauses for a good few seconds, ever so stoic, before nodding his head in acknowledgement.

"as you wish, milady."

you clap your hands togeher excitedly, beaming up at him.

"perfect!"

you set off in the direction of the stables, your knight following closely behind you, and dare you say with a slightest improvement in the upbeat of his gait. despite all of his professionalism, he still had his tells.

the smell of fresh hay and the less pleasant odour of manure reaches your nostrils before you can properly see the horses, but you let your nose wrinkle in displeasure and resolutely keep marching onwards to the stable entrance. you had a purpose to fulfil by being here, after all.

now, as a princess, it was imperative that you had acquired several different skills as part of your royal upbringing. how to eat properly, how to speak properly, act properly, including when riding a horse.

but, try as you might, you just couldn't quite manage to get a proper grasp on that last part. but, if it meant getting to know choso, you'd simply grin and bear it and hope to god that it didn't buck you off directly into a patch of mud.

the horses can smell your fear, you had been told as a child. even the stubbiest pony accustomed to your eight-year-old self's stature still towered above you, nostrils flared and rubbery lips dripping with saliva, making you hide behind the legs of your tutors as you cowered away from such a ferocious beast.

such childlike fears seemed to resurface now, as the snort of a nearby horse makes you twitch, visibly enough that it doesn't go unnoticed.

"are you alright, milady?" he's eyeing you sideways now, having caught up with your stride with his much longer one. you wonder just how eager he must be to ride a horse that it would warrant him breaking his usual pattern of tracing your footsteps and now meeting them with his own as the pair of you walk.

the thought brings a pang of guilt to accompany it, so you plaster on a smile and nod at him brightly.

"of course i am! it just caught me off guard, is all. not to worry, i'll have two horses be arranged for us."

you look at the nearest stable hand expectantly, and the young boy seems to comprehend your message as he dashes off to affix saddles and leashes to two fine stallions, befitting of royalty, to ride. you don't miss the doubtful look choso still gives you out of the corner of your eye.

it's better than focusing on the huffs and snorts of the beast before you as it's brought forwards, close enough for its putrid breath to curl in warm tendrils against your face. you feel your skin shrivel at the sensation.

but being a princess means putting on a brave face, and to never crumble in the face of adversity.

you march over to see the stirrup, level with your chest, inviting you to step up and onto the horse's back. it's funny, all these years later you would have dwarfed that little pony, so now they've brought an even larger horse to maintain order.

you can feel your heart hammering in your chest as you approach it, and you think that the horse can feel it too, because it snorts, twisting its head, the stable hand sounding panicked as the rope is prised from his grasp by the powerful strain from the stallion.

and then there's those painstaking moments, of the horse bucking and neighing, free now, and you really regret not providing more foresight into this plan.

how exactly will you get to know choso more if you've been trampled to death before he opens his mouth again?

you think this is the end of your short and silly life, if not for the hand that shoots out, grabbing the reins, another smoothing over the horse's snout. you watch in awe as your knight, your personal bodyguard, does just that and saves you from what would have been an imminent and painful death.

and like some horse whisperer, the stallion was now rendered meek and docile, following where it was led as choso turned to you, expression impassive as always.

"are you scared of horses milady?"

how foolish of you to think you wouldn't be all these years later. there's no use lying, and you dejectedly nod at his question. a beat of silence, before confusion graces his features.

"then why decide to go riding today?"

"because i heard that you like horses..."

it sounds so truly pathetic coming out of your mouth, but your heart still skips a beat as you see an entirely new expression on his face. a smile, one that he bites back as he looks off to the side, shaking his head in disbelief.

and then he looks back at you, really looks at you, with that coldness in his eyes parting like clouds to give way to something softer, warmer.

"allow me to help you then, your highness."

you give him a shy little nod at his proposition, and choso turns to the tearfully apologetic stable hand, signalling to him to return the other horse. you're confused as he approaches you, horse in tow, and you eye the animal with suspicion as it meets you face to face.

"the first thing about any animal is to establish a connection with it, milady." choso speaks so softly, voice barely above a whisper, and you watch in amazement as the horse's ears prick up, as if hanging on every word that he says alongside yourself.

"you've got to talk to it, introduce yourself." he motions for you to try, and your eyes flick back to the horse.

"hello, horse," you whisper to it. you feel like an idiot, but choso's nod of encouragement and second rare smile convince you to keep going. "it's nice to meet you."

it seems to have turned its attention towards you now, its nose snuffling at you, and you rear back a little.

"it's okay, milady, he just wants to smell you."

you look at choso again, expression doubtful, and he holds his hand outstretched, prompting you to place your palm in his.

he's warm, deliciously so, a decisive strength resting behind each finger as he guides your dainty hand towards the maw of the beast. its nostrils flare, snuffling against your hand, and you giggle girlishly at the odd sensation. choso's smiling now, no charade as he lets his joy shine through, matching yours.

"see? he likes you, your highness."

the pair of you stay like that for a few minutes, tentatively stroking the horse, until you feel comfortable enough to suggest riding them. choso nods, a flicker of responsibilty taking over his expressions as he guides you towards the saddle.

you're uncertain all over again, for different reasons now, as the distance required to get your foot in the stirrup seemed a little too high to achieve. and then choso's behind you, a hushed "may i?" whispered into your ear as his fingers curl at your waist.

you're flustered now, nodding all the same, gasping at how easily he lifts you until your feet dangle adjacent to the sturrup, and you let yourself slip a foot into it and swing the rest of yourself up and over to be seated on the horse.

you peer down at choso, desperately trying to ignore the fact that his head was directly next to your lap. it was absurd- you were the one riding atop a horse as he remained on the ground, you were the one of royal descent- yet in this very moment you were entirely at his mercy.

you clear your throat, nodding to him.

"if there aren't any more horses, how are you going to ride one?" and now he smirks at you, as if it's the most obvious answer in the world.

"well, if you're so scared of horses, i thought that i'd continue to help you get over that fear."

the penny doesn't drop until he places his foot in the very same stirrup that you had used to hoist yourself up, doing the same in an admittedly much more fluid motion, and positing himself flush against your back.

if it weren't for the light armour he wore, you were certain that he would be able to feel the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

you look down to your lap, watching as his arms reach forwards, practically embracing you, before his hands take a willful grip of the leather reins.

"how does that sound, milady?" he's practically purring into your ear, and he must know the effect he's having on you, if not before then definitely now as you sharply inhale, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck prickle at the slight sensation of his breath.

you don't even trust yourself to speak eloquently without making a fool of yourself, so you nod instead. the message is not lost on choso, and he chuckles right into your ear before starting to guide the horse as easily as breathing.

the animal lurched forwards, and your hands shot out, instinctively latching onto the nearest solid thing. whether they were your knight's hands or not wasn't important. but choso took this in stride, guiding your hands to take hold of the reins, and then encapsulating them with his own.

it sent a little thrill jolting through your spine, especially as he shuffles even closer to you, just to make sure that he could see properly.

your plan was working brilliantly after all.

and for all the trouble it took to situate yourself on the horse, your initial fears melted away in the presence of choso, as he spurred the horse to start a slow walk out of the stables, and onto the vast grounds surrounding the palace.

and as you gaze back to catch a glimpse of your knight, catching the way he smiles down at you so freely, faces a breadth apart, you realise that your fates are well and truly intertwined together.

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... there's no release, i feel you in my dreams

(i don't have any other jjk fics FOR NOW ㅜㅡㅜ) best friend!aventurine x reader

➤ alternatively, you can find my jjk masterlist here!

Well… since he’s asking so nicely ♡

The "plot twist" if that's even qualified like that is actually pretty good. I love your writing !

warning: stalkish behavior, mutual masturbation, humping to get off ig, overstimulation, cum play, excessive breeding kink towards the end, baby trapping but consensual? 😭, Perv! virgin! Ethan, dom! Reader, both are fucked up people tbh

Neighbor! Ethan watches you through your window every night because your apartments are right across from each other </3

He doesn’t know if you mean to leave your blinds open every time you change, doesn’t know if you mean to lotion your whole body, completely naked, in front of the fucking window, and honestly, he really doesn’t care. All he knows is that every single night before bed he watches you through his slightly uncovered curtains, and touches himself.

And maybe in class he doesn’t stop staring, maybe he gets hard and touches himself behind his desk. And maybe he memorizes your whole schedule, just so he can see you at different angles, doing different things.

Maybe it’s wrong. But what you know can’t hurt you, right?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s the weekend, which means that you’re finally off of work, and have no classes. Your hair is strewn around you in a halo as you lay on your round pink bed. You just want to lounge, relax, and do absolutely nothing.

Until you see the neighbor boy peek through his window.

You smile to yourself when you catch his eye through it, your body lifted up with your elbows.

You’ve seen Ethan around, waving to him whenever you’re out, sending him a small smile as you walk down to the apartment lobby to get the mail. You also have a few classes together, and he sits near you in them. You’ve only talked a handful of times, but he’s been always incredibly sweet. He’s a pretty boy, with dark brown hair and puppy dog eyes, and everytime he sees you he gives you a gorgeous smile and looks away shyly. You’ve also seen the way he looks through his curtains a LOT more than a person normally would, knows that his eyes are set on your window.

You aren’t dumb. You know when someone is watching you, and you know that the most appropriate response is to close your blinds and call the fucking cops. But where’s the fun in that?

Besides, he’s just too cute to send to jail :((

Your hands begin to knead your tits. You moan when your sensitive nipples get hard, your legs spreading to show your white lacey thong underneath your silky pink robe. You see the eyes on you again, see him peek through the curtains even more.

Ethan blushes, watching the scene before him. You seem to be looking right at him. Maybe he’s just crazy. But regardless, he can’t help but palm his cock through his briefs. He whines, hand squeezing himself harder, as he watches you bite your lip and look at him with a dazed smile. You begin to move up, onto your knees. You open your robe, letting it fall down off your shoulders. Your tits are exposed now, and you giggle as you jiggle them lightly in your palms.

Ethan’s seen you do more. And he’s definitely seen you do worse. But the way you’re looking through the window now, looking dead at him, it makes his pretty virgin cock flush a deep burgundy red and makes him clench his teeth hard. You’re so beautiful, absolutely fucking stunning. He doesn’t know why he feels so hot now, so desperate for your touch, but it’s making his cock throb. He takes it out of his pajama pants, begins stroking the thick head of it, as warm wet fluid dribbles out. He whines, closing his sharp teeth around his fist, thrusting his poor achy prick into his own hand.

You can see how his eyes grow more lidded, now, can see that hes bringing the curtains more to the side. He doesn’t care if he’s revealed. And that’s immediately shown when he exposes himself. You moan at the sight of him, cock out in his fist, his handsome face flushed and red. He finally looks at you, fully. And the tension is so hot between that long distance between the two of you, that it makes you gush down your thighs. You bring your hand down to your clit, one hand kneading your breast. Without even thinking you begin to rock up and down, thinking about the gigantic cock in front of you and what it could do to your tight cunt.

Ethan is going fucking insane, he really is. Everything in him is trying to stop himself from placing a knock on your door, shoving you against the nearest wall when you answer and just pummeling your pussy. He wants this to play out, though. He wants to be teased and played with, wants you to keep bouncing up and down and making him crave to split you open.

His cock is drenched, and he brings his shirt up in between his teeth to expose his toned stomach. He doesn’t know where all the confidence is coming from; all he knows is that his cock hurts, and he needs it to cum, regardless of how much he loves the edging.

And when he finally does, you’re both drenched in sweat and smiling from across your rooms. you put on your robe, effortlessly.

You blow the boy a kiss, and then, for the first time in months, you close your blinds.

It’s been two days since you and Ethan’s last encounter. And since then, your blinds have stayed closed.

Ethan is fucking dying. He doesn’t know why you haven’t talked to him, doesn’t know why your window is covered. Hopefully it’s teasing.

But some part of him thinks he really fucked up.

It’s time for you to go get the mail. Not that you haven’t been doing that the past two days, it’s just that Ethan is actually home when you have to today. So now you can finally have your fun. And how coincidental that his mail just happens to land in your mailbox. The mail lady must’ve been mixed up, that’s all. But it gives you an excuse to knock on the boy’s door.

You adjust your mini skirt and your top as you approach, your heels clicking against the hardwood. He has a doorbell, and you ring it. No answer for a moment, but then the boy opens the door. He looks like he’s busy; he’s wearing jeans and a flannel, and you can see behind him that there are papers and textbook strewn everywhere. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees you, and his poor cock begins moving to half hardness when he sees your nipples poking through your shirt.

You glance at the table full of work, and fake frown.

“I’m sorry, were you busy?” Your voice is airy, and sweet.

Ethan can smell your perfume from where he’s standing, all citrusy and vanilla. He wants to smell that smell all day and all night.

Noticing you looking into the apartment at the full table, Ethan’s eyes widen in realization and he stutters.

“O-Oh! I was, but.. I’m not anymore.” He nervously laughs, and you smile at his anxiety ridden voice. He’s too cute.

“That’s great! I have your mail for you. The mail lady must’ve gotten it mixed up.” You lift up the paper envelopes to show him.

He blushes, going to reach for them. When he grabs them from you your fingers brush against his, softly. Just enough for him to feel the slow scrape of your acrylic nails, the softness of your skin. You’re entrancing him, and you know that he won’t be able to resist anything you do.

“Thank you.” He replies. His eyes wonder down to your tits, soft lips scraping over his teeth. You giggle, stepping towards the boy.

“You have a staring problem, y’know.”

He snaps out of bud thoughts to rub his neck and avert from your gaze.

“Sorry..”

“Don’t apologize.” You reach out to stroke his strong arm with your nails, and he shivers, eyes going up to yours, pupils dilated. He looks incredibly shy. You move closer, so close that he can feel your body heat radiating onto him. He exhales shakily.

“Do you wanna invite me in, stalker boy?”

He doesn’t answer. He just looks at you, eyes full of wonder and lust. Then he leans in, and presses his lips to yours in a shy, inexperienced kiss. He pulls away quickly, afraid that he may have made a mistake. But then you pull him back in, let him moan into your mouth, let him feel your ass in the middle of the hallway. And then you shove him inside, remove your lips from his, and shut and lock the door.

“Can I see your room?”

He nods, and grabs your hand to pull you into it. You giggle at the sight of the star wars posters on the wall, the innocent display of action figures in the far corner.

“It’s cute.” You say. “I like it a lot.”

“T-Thank you..”

You kiss him again, hands grasping his hair and making him whine. You pull away, teasingly biting the tip of his nose. His plush mouth is stained with your pink lipstick, perfectly beautiful and kiss bitten.

“Such good manners, sweet boy.”

Ethan smiles, all teeth, his eyes shining. Your heart surges with something you’ve never felt before.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since forever.”

“I know, baby. I’ve known for months.” You kiss his cheek (the lipstick stains again). And then you sit down on his bed, hands reaching out to beckon him over. His cock is painfully hard, throbbing against his zipper. You grab his upper thighs to move his crotch closer to your face, and you reach out to run your tongue along the fabric. He gasps, hands going down to your hair and his hips thrusting against you.

“Needy.” You mumble quietly. Ethan whines.

You move your hands to his zipper, and begin to open his fly. His boxers are soft, and on the front the fabric is stained with a wet patch.

“Awww, baby…” you pout. “You should’ve come to me sooner. You’re ruining your underwear.”

“I’m-” he gasps when you begin to touch his cock, running your tongue along the fabric of his boxers, tasting the wet spot there. He tastes so good, it makes you drool. “‘M sorry!”

You breathe out a laugh, and look up at him.

“Do you want me to put it in my mouth?” You ask innocently. He nods, and you reach in to pull his length out. It’s incredibly large, even larger up close, and dripping with precum.

“You’re so big.” You comment. Then you take his tip into your mouth, lick up his salty precum. He cries out, hips thrusting into you. You pull away, making him create a noise of displeasure. You bring your palm to his member, slowly moving up and down from the base to the tip. He moans, and you begin taunting him.

“Poor baby. You just can’t control this thing, can you?” You spit harshly on his cock, and he whimpers. “Gotta watch me to get off? Huh, you little perv?” Your hand speeds up, the sound of his wet prick loud in the room.

“Nnngh… please.. please let me fuck you!”

“No. You take what I give you, Ethan. Or you get nothing at all.” And then you’re shoving your mouth all the way to his base, choking on his delicious cock, and he practically yells as he orgasms, his cock shooting warm, creamy ropes down your hot throat. You moan, swallowing him down and bobbing your head harshly. He starts to cry, wet tears cascading down the boys cheeks.

“Thank you! Oh god…” the overstimulation begins to get to him and he can’t even breathe.

“Mm, I think.. think ‘m gonna cum again…”

You pull off of him, and begin stroking him more. Tears begin to cascade down his cheeks, and you lean in to kiss his hipbones as he cums for a second time. He rides it out, face incredibly hot, and you rise up to kiss him on his lips. He shoves his head into your shoulder as you stroke him one more time. Your hand is dripping with his cum, and you bring it up to his mouth and tell him to lick it up. He shivers, obeying your command and licking your whole hand clean. He breathes into your neck, swallowing himself down, as his body goes limp in your arms.

“That was your first time, wasn’t it?”

“Mhm,” he looks down at you and frowns. “I’m sorry I came too early.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, and kiss his forehead. “Do you think you can do it one more time for me?”

He bites his lip, eyes unsure.

“Maybe..”

“It’s okay if you can’t, okay?” You kiss him again. He nods, and you turn him around to sit him in the spot you were previously at, only a bit more pushed back. You move to straddle him, and his eyes widen.

You kiss him again, sweet and slow. And then you pull your top up over your head and throw it somewhere in the floor. Ethan’s mouth is agape now, and he looks at your tits in awe.

“Something wrong?” You tease.

“You’re so beautiful, momma.” He looks up at you as he leans in to ghost his lips over your tits. You flush at the name, and it makes that heat in your stomach intensify. “I’ve always thought so. I… I stare at you in class all the time. Just because you’re so beautiful.” You smile at his confession, stroke his soft face, and lean down to kiss him. You guide him to your chest, and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You cry out, hands going up to his hair as you hold him closer to you. You can feel his cock getting hard again. His hands wrap around your waist and he moans into your skin, thrusting his member up into your heated pussy.

His teeth scrape against you harshly, and you take his wrists from around your waist and push him down onto the bed. His hands are above his head now. He smiles.

“You are so gorgeous.” You murmur. “Mommy’s good little boy…”

You take the hem of his shirt and lift it above his head to kiss his pecs. He makes a sound of pleasure, and you suck a hickey onto his collar bone.

“I wanna keep being a good boy for you, momma. Wanna make you feel good.” He gasps out, and you smile.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you note. “Could you take them off?”

He slips off his flannel and lifts his shirt above his head at your command, and then pulls off his jeans and boxers. He’s not that shy anymore, having already came at the hands of you twice. But the same submissive, obsessed boy is still there, and it’s prominent when he stutters out a question.

“Could you.. could you take yours off, too?”

And then you’re unzipping your skirt. The boy aids in the task, helping you pull it down your legs at the awkward angle you’re both at. Your heels go next, slipping off of your feet and onto the floor. And then, lastly, you slip off your panties. The smell of your arousal hits Ethan. He keens, lifting up to watch your cunt be revealed to him. You’re beautiful, your pussy swollen and throbbing.

You hold his cock down as you slide it between your folds, and his eyes roll to the back of his head at this new found type of contact. Your wetness drips on his already drenched cock, makes him mewl and begin fucking his prick in between your swollen lips. You bring his fingers to your clit and instruct him on what feels good. He catches on immediately, and he runs tight circles onto you. His cock aches, from orgasming twice and from your wet pussy.

“Can you please put it in, momma? Please?” He asks, hips rutting.

“Just rub on me, sweet boy. You can fuck me next time.”

Although he won’t get to fuck you today, he looks giddy, and he looks hopeful.

“There’s gonna be a next time?”

“Of course there is, baby,” you reply. “Or I wouldn’t have came all the way over here.”

He hugs you to him, breathing into your skin and gripping your hips to grind you down onto his prick. It’s engorged, so hard that it hurts, but your sweet cunt brings it relief. Ethan begins talking, his precious voice laced with pleasure.

“You’re so perfect, so fuckin’ gorgeous.” He gasps out.

“I know, baby... fuck. It feels so good, doesn’t it?”

He nods, his cock glistening with wetness, and he can feel himself approaching his third orgasm of the day. But he wants to make this one last, wants to make you cum first. He brings his fingers back up to your clit, rubs it harshly, in the way you like. You practically scream, beginning to instead bounce on his cock. The pressure makes him groan, makes his toes curl and near his awaiting orgasm.

“Yeah, momma. C’mon, use me.” your wetness is so prominent that his rough fingers make your juices splatter onto your thighs. You’re squirming, pussy throbbing and almost ready to let go. You don’t know how he’s so good at this, with his inexperience, but he is. “Want you to cream all over my cock. Please, baby? Don’t you wanna cum like I did?”

“Yeah. Yeah, baby!” You grab onto his shoulders, and you feel that tension in your gut snap. “‘M cumming! Oh, shitshitshitshit-“

He giggles, eyes bright, as he watches you cum on him. The way he sounds is a little psychotic, a little unsettling. Not quite like him. But it makes your legs shake and makes you gasp out his name as you come down from your high. And then he moves his hips in tandem, begins to move in harsh circles so he can cum on you for a third time. And you let him, regardless of the stimulation and the pain it leaves. And when he cums, his fingernails harshly dig into your hips, make you fall onto him and try to catch your breath as he cums all over your pussy lips and throbbing clit. His cum is warm on your skin, and you bring Ethan’s fingers up to your hole to push all of it inside you. His eyes grow as big as saucers, and he watches as his sticky load gets pushed into your womb.

“Gonna make me a real mommy, aren’t you, baby?” You ask. Your eyes are darker, if not completely black, and you want to break the boy in front of you.

Your real plan is finally coming into play, your possessiveness beginning to take over. And for a moment Ethan processes that you may have been watching him too, this whole time. That maybe, you had been planning to make him bonded to you forever.

But Ethan shakes this thought off. You’re too sweet, too precious. You wouldn’t do that, would you?

(You would.)

Ethan bites his lip as you take his tip and rub the excess cum onto your hole.

“Yeah,” he breathes in reply, eyes never leaving your filled pussy. “Gonna fill you up, momma.”

He’s all yours, now. Ruined.

“Gonna give you a baby. Wan’ you to make me a daddy…”

You smile.

Your little stalker is so precious.

Dano!Riddler, snuggling beside (y/n): You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. You’re my star, the light in my darkest days.

You, jumping awake into a corner: You fucking bitch- I thought I locked the door?!

Dano!Riddler: The window was open.

Thanks for reading!! I'm happy you like my stories that much! <3

Of course Ghostface wants you!

Gf!Ethan X GN!Reader

‼️CW/TW‼️: scar; manipulative E; yandere!Ethan

If there's others tell me.

Not satisfied with this one, like really not. I fell like this is pure shit. Sorry.

"I'm scared, E. I'm actually terrified."

Ethan tightens his hold around you and kiss your forehead. The both of you lying down on your bed after a movie and an argument with the group.

"Ghostface wants us, he probably wants me, too! I don't wanna die, not like this. And the group... They want to separate you from me. You're my only support. Don't leave."

"I won't leave you." He whispers in your ear. "I'd never leave you. Nobody'll ever separate you from me. We'll be together forever. I'll protect you from everything."

According to Mindy, Ethan was the main suspect. When the first attack occurred, he wasn't here. Everyone got hurt, and Anika...

A wave of sadness overcome you and you feel your eyes water again.

"Love..." Ethan whispers, concern in his voice.

His thumbs caress your cheek while a weak smile makes his way to your face. The first attack was so unexpected, nobody was ready.

You even got hurt, too. Ghostface plunged his knife into your thigh. The hit was directed towards Sam but, trying to push her away, you fell and got hurt instead of her. Badly. You'll never regret it though.

Ethan's hand goes down your shoulders, to your hips to finally settle on your thigh. Where your stitches remains. He does not put his palms directly on it since the scar is really fresh and not healed yet. But his hand was still close to it. He was feeling guilty ever since he saw you with Chad near the ambulance. He was blaming himself.

"It's not your fault, E." You say.

-Yes, it is. I should have been here.

-But you weren't. It's useless to think of what you could have done. I'm alive. That's what matters."

You feel water running down your head. A single drop. A tear. Ethan is crying. You take Ethan's hand which is on your thigh and move it to your hip. Your good leg sneak its way in between his. While the hurt one goes above them to frame him. But not too far in case you worsen your stitches by stretching it. Both of your arms go under his. Your chest is glued to his.

"It's my fault.

-It's Ghostface's fault. He's the one who attacked me. Not you."

Ethan stays silent. His hand caress your back slowly and you do the same for him. Both of you comforting each other in the almost religious silence of the room. Some cars could faintly be heard outside but you were not paying attention to them.

In this hug, you were protecting each other. You were telling him how much you loved him, how much you were grateful. While Ethan was telling you that everything would be fine. He was so worried... You were happy he had econ. You don't know what you would have done if you saw him get hurt. He's the only one who understands you. The last thing you want is to see him in danger.

"You're risking your live by staying with me, you know ?" You talk with a shaky voice. You were getting emotional again just by thinking of what could happen.

"I'm sure Ghostface won't hurt you. How could he kill someone as pretty as you?"

"That's not funny, E. I'm really scared.

"I know but I swear to you, from now on, I'll always be by your side."

You nod, burying your face in his chest. Your arms tighten around him. You feel him tense for a second. Worried, you look up at him to just see him smiling, all softened, at you. He was so pretty. How could the others ever think of him as a criminal ? He was the one massaging your back when you were tired. He was the one cuddling you when you were sad. He was the one litteraly apologizing to chairs when he bumped into them. He was the one crying watching romantics movies ! How could he kill someone?

"Did I hurt you?" You ask.

-No, love. Why?" He whispers back.

You took time to respond, chilling in the pretty silence of the room where all you could hear were your two breath. It was hot but a nice hotness. A calming one. It made you sleepy, you who had sleep issue.

"Your body contracted when I touched you.

-It's nothing..."

Still worried, you move in the bed. Your back now facing him. He's whining, missing your body close already. You grab your phone and quicky return under the blanket. This time though, your head goes underneath. With the flashlight of your phone, you move up his shirt and look at where you touched moment prior. Ethan sighs.

"I told you it's nothing."

But you ignore him and go back to the surface. Meeting his accustomed yet loving gaze.

"Did your hurt yourself? You have a bruise on your hip."

He laughs nervously, as if embarrassed. His big hands takes a good hold of your hips before moving you up until you're face to face. He then hides his face in your neck. He loved doing that, manhandling you. You never understood why. He sighs once in the comfort of your body.

"I bumped into the corner of the table yesterday."

You had doubts.

"You're not hiding something from me, right ?"

But Ethan never doubted himself.

"What ? You think I'm Ghostface, too?" He said in a ironical tone, knowing damn well he won already.

You were not laughing. You would never dare doubt your boyfriend like that. The only reason you asked that was because you were scared he got into a fight or simply hurt himself bad. It happens, after all. Never would the thought he was a murderer even cross your mind. So you push him away from you a little to see his face. Not even a shadow of a smile on your face.

"Don't say that. Even for a joke. You know it makes me angry. I don't like them saying that. You're not Ghostface. I think I'd knew it well if you were a damn serial killer." You said, gritting your teeth, your hands clenching around his shirt.

-Well, I don't like them saying that either. Plus, they imply that you'd be stupid enough to be in a relationship with someone you barely know. But you're not stupid. And we know each other. You're the cleverest person in the damn world.

The subject changed and you didn't even notice.

-I am stupid sometimes, though. There is lot of things that I don't notice. Like when that guy was following me home. If it weren't for you I'd be dead.

-And that's why I'm here.

It was his duty, after all. To protect you.

-But Ghostface is not just a creepy guy in an alley. He's much more dangerous Ethan. And he wants me dead. He wants me.

-Of course he wants you my love, you're so pretty. Everyone want you.

You move away from his embrace and stare at him angrily. You had already told him not to joke like that and he was still doing it. Your eyes were swollen and your cheeks were dry. Contradictory with the long minutes you spent wetting them.

-Seriously Ethan, don't joke on that subject. It's making me uncomfortable. Anika is dead because of that guy. I don't want to laugh.

You cringed internally mentioning your friend. Fuck, she wasn't even related to the group that much. She was new, like Ethan. Why was she targeted ?

-I'm joking on it because I know nothing will happen to you. You're safe with me." He was smiling. A reassuring smile. One you could pour all your trust in.

You could never stay mad at Ethan anyway. Less in a situation like this. You needed support. And your friends didn't want him around. You only had him to dry your tears.

"I don't want you to get hurt." You said, entering back your safe place: his arms.

"I already told you. I won't. I'm staying here until you are safe.

-And the group? Chad, Mindy, Sam and Tara ? What about them?

-I'm sure they'll be fine. Even if they threw you out of their house...

-They didn't throw me out of the house, Ethan. I know you don't like them but they're my friends. They're scared too, you have to understand that.

-Okay, I understand. But if I wasn't here, you would have been all alone. They shouldn't have kicked you out in a situation like this."

You found nothing to answer this time. Because it was true. If he wasn't here, you'd be alone. They didn't kick you out, you left with Ethan because you were angry with their accusatory remarks towards him. But still, no one tried to call you. To know how you were doing. To even check if you were alive. And realizing that, you start crying again. You were so sensitive since Anika's death. You were truly in edge. You were happy Ethan was here.

"I'm alone E. I'm so fucking alone..." You realized.

-No, of course not. You're not alone. I'm here. I'd die for you. I'll protect you. Nothing will ever harm you as long as I'm here. You'll always be seen with me by your side. I'll marry you one day. You know that?"

You weren't listening anymore. You were remembering every memory you had with your friends. Searching a way to come back to them, to regain their trust. You needed them, they were your dear friends. Maybe you were dramatic but you had every right to be. And Ethan was right. They had left you alone to die by Ghostface. They had left you knowing you were a target. But you loved them, you couldn't resent them.

"We'll live a life where you won't need anyone but me. And I won't need anyone but you. A house secluded where no one can come. After all of this is done, we'll be together."

Ethan was smiling. But you couldn't see it.

That's adorable

𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Eddie asks you out on your very first date, indulging you in huge philly cheesesteaks, a vanilla milkshake (with two straws), a largely neglected bucket of popcorn, and a sugary first kiss. requested here. shy fem!reader, 3.2k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

I'm actually going to die here, you think morosely. 

This was a very bad idea on your part, and perhaps a worse one on his. What possessed Eddie —ripped jeaned, silver-chained, aspiring heavy metal rockstar Eddie— to ask you on a date? Perhaps you'd appeared more formidable outside of Hawkins library than you usually did.

You were in a particularly bad mood after a chilly fall afternoon spent checking the quality of the returns, and the prospect of walking home in the cold was a dismal one. You'd been glaring at nothing when a big, hulking bucket of a van slowed to a crawl beside you, thumping bass leaking from the closed window. It rolled down, the music quieting with it, and out came a head of inky dark curls. 

"Hey, sweetheart," Eddie said, pet name rolling around in his mouth, "you heading home? Do you want a ride? It's a long walk." 

Somewhere between the library and your driveway, Eddie asked you on a date. You genuinely can't remember what you talked about or how it happened, your adrenaline high enough you could've used it to climb Everest. You do remember the quiet way he'd asked, as though he was waiting for an impending rejection, and his smile bordering goofy when you breathed out, "Yeah, okay." 

You rub at the seam of your cream sweater over and over, the pad of your thumb numb. The wind runs through you, ruffling the skirt of your black dress against your thighs. I'm an idiot, you think. Hypothermia might kill you if your racing heart doesn't. 

Eddie holds a similar sentiment, "What the fuck are you doing out here?" 

You flinch embarrassingly hard. He wasn't there a moment ago. Eddie cusses and holds his hands out to you before you can slip backward off of the low brick wall you'd been waiting on, his fingers shooting tingles down into the epidermis of your skin like wild golden sparks where they grab you, hoisting you up into a more secure standing position. 

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. Like, really really sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, just– it's like, minus ten out here? What are you doing?" 

"I–" You give him a more petrified look than you mean to. "You said to meet you here?" 

Does he not want you here? Was it a joke?

Eddie laughs out of the side of his mouth like he's holding a cigarette between his lips. "Well, yeah, but I meant inside. I've been waiting for you at the table." His amusement dissipates as he feels the chill emanating from your clothes. "Jesus, I'm sorry. Are you ready to come in?" 

Minus ten was dramatic. It's a solid 30 Fahrenheit, but the cold wind makes it feel colder. As soon as you enter the diner you're warm, heat nibbling at your fingers as the blood starts to pump. Eddie takes you to the side of the restaurant away from the noise of the games machines and the bathrooms, slipping into a booth where a worn paperback book is waiting. 

"I left that in case someone decided to steal our table." 

"What if they stole your book?" you ask, sliding into the booth seat opposite. 

"They'd love it," Eddie says. He leans forward with a mischievous air about him. "It's about a bullied teenage girl who loses her shit and gets psychic powers. I think she's gonna kill someone." He blinks. "Not that that's cool." 

"It's just a book, right? You're not a murderer."

You wonder why the fuck you'd say something like that, but he nods his agreement breezily. "Exactly." 

"Plus," you add, eager to say something he'll like, "it's hard not to root for the underdog." 

His smile twitches with an emotion you can't name. "Exactly," he says again. 

A waitress with thick rings of eyeliner comes to take your order. She has a sunny attitude, like Eddie in that way, an exterior some might say was intimidating and a bright smile. You're nervous from the get go and you have a cliche worry, watching Eddie interact with her from the corner of your eye. 

"For you?" she asks you. 

You stammer. What you'd thought about on the walk here this evening can be pinpointed into two simple lines of inquiry —what should you say to Eddie, and what should you say to the waitress. Shy to the point of aching, you'd rehearsed your order ten times, but all that comes out is hot air. 

"Um," you say, wishing you'd paid more attention to what Eddie said rather than how he looked at the waitress, "could I have, uh. Just the same? As he had, please." 

"Are you sure?" Eddie asks, nothing but patience in his tone. "Do you like pink lemonade?" 

You don't want anything carbonated tonight, nauseous enough. "Um, the same but with water instead, please." 

The waitress writes a short sentence with a big flourish. "Water," she reads, giving you and Eddie each a glowing smile. "No worries, I'll bring your drinks right out, food in twenty at most."

"Thank you," you and Eddie say together, in starkly different tones. 

Eddie waits for her to leave before he shucks off his jacket. He puts his elbows on the table and runs his knuckles up and down the length of the opposite forearm, smudging the whorls of his inky tattoos, the skinny silver chain around his wrist catching the light. "You know, I don't mind doing the talking, if you don't want to." 

You can't describe the embarrassment that bites at you, then. "It's– I'm sorry, I just couldn't think of what I wanted–" 

"I'm sorry," Eddie interrupts. "I should've told her to come back in a minute, I didn't give you chance to read the menu. I swear that's the only time I'll make a dick move tonight." 

You cough. He grimaces, teeth sinking into the pink of his bottom lip as he laughs it off. "Not like that. Or, not not like that. No dick moves," he says, "I just wanted to talk to you over a table rather than that pillar of a desk in the library." 

"It's a really tall desk." 

"It's so tall! I get that they want us to have somewhere to put the books but they have to go down to you guys anyways when you stamp 'em." 

"I don't know what the idea was behind them," you say. 

"Maybe they hired a bunch or very small librarians initially," Eddie says. He spies the waitress approaching with your drinks and leans back to accommodate her. He thanks her, but as soon as she leaves he's staring at your tap water with critical eyes. "It looks a little cloudy. You want my lemonade, instead?" 

"No, it's okay," you say, though drinking it feels like a bad idea. There's a whirlpool of scum at the top like clouds circling a mountain peak, ice cubes drifting in slow laps beneath. 

"I can take it back–" 

"Please don't," you say, "I'd be so embarrassed, it's only water." 

"I get you. Maybe I can get you something else, then. I'd say we should get hot cocoa but it's weird having hot cocoa with cheesesteaks." Eddie knocks the table. "I'm really sorry I asked you here." 

Your heart could be likened to a balloon popped by a sharp pin. You knew he'd regret asking you, knew it was too good to be true–

"We should've gone somewhere nice. Like Enzo's or Bullock's. Hey, we even could've gone into Indianapolis. And I have to say sorry double 'cos I should've asked you if I could give you a ride, I really messed it up." 

"It's not messed up," you say. "It's not." 

Eddie smiles at you, his most stripped back to date. 

Things are awkward and you theorise that it's your fault, but Eddie doesn't let you flounder in it. He asks questions, he says kind things. You have no choice but to relax and laugh at his ill-conceived jokes. You almost choke on your sub and he goes as far as to say, "Hey, you even make choking look good," having leapt up to pat your back. It's too much but it's weirdly nice at the same time. It's almost worth dying if it means Eddie's gonna rub your back with a big, unflinching hand. 

He wanders off when he's sure you're alive and you catastrophize: choking is far from attractive. He saw the way your nose wrinkled and your jaw went soft in your coughing and jumped ship. You dab the tears (from choking, though they could change at any moment) away with a napkin, sniffling. Your throat hurts and your sandwich doesn't look as appetising now. 

"Here," Eddie says, placing a tall glass in front of you grandly. 

"What is it?" you ask, though it could only be one thing. 

"Vanilla milkshake. Benny uses full fat cream, it's basically ice cream and nothing else. Is that okay?" 

You take a sip through a red and white striped straw without answering, the cold soothing your raw throat. A second straw stabs you in the cheek. 

"That ones for me," Eddie jokes. 

You swear you're gonna catch fire, putting the milkshake down with a thunk. "Oh," you say. 

"I'm kidding," he says. 

"No, I mean, if you want to share–" 

You're offering in the interest of being polite, but the look on Eddie's face reminds you of the more romantic connotations. "You sure?" he asks. 

You could say no. "Yeah. Of course." 

Between sips, you talk. Your conversation begins to feel like the unwinding a tight knot, unravelling defences you were unaware of, like a tapestry you never agreed to shaken out. Sure, you're shy, but you're interesting, and you have things to say. Eddie's eager to hear them; he won't stop pulling on the thread. 

Your throat tickles intermittently with scratchy pain. Eddie tucks a rather lustrous curl behind his ear, exposing a small stud earring and a hoop behind it. 

"I never noticed you have your ears pierced," you say, leaning forward to take another sip. 

Eddie pulls his straw from the glass to hit at yours teasingly, the slope of his eyebrows arching steeper. "Then you should look at me more often," he says. He stabs his straw into the glass and meets your eyes. To the outside observer, you're sure you look like partners getting gooey. "Notice anything else new?" 

Your pulse tangles in on itself, a snag in the thread. "Um, well…" You glance over his pale cheeks, their gentle caress of freckles. "You have freckles… and," —there, nestled between his lashes like a tiny dotted star— "a beauty mark under your eye." 

He doesn't smile, but some sweet softness plays in his eyes, his lashes kissing as they close ever so slightly. "You're prettier up close," he says quietly. "I didn't think you could get much prettier, but I've never been this close before, I guess." 

You take another sip to avoid further mortifying yourself with a stammering answer, but Eddie has a similar idea, leaning in. More awkward to pull apart, you share your drink and try not to bump his nose. The drink slurps and crackles as you finish it off together. Sitting back with twin smiles, awkward and flushed and not knowing what else to say, you fluster. There's a lot of stuff you want to ask him, but now he's finished his food and the milkshake is empty, you might not have time.

"Did you, like, wanna catch a movie or something?" Eddie asks, sounding for a second not quite as confident as he appears. 

You like metalhead Eddie, but you're starting to love this earnest version of him too. 

"Yeah, I'll see a movie with you," you say quickly. 

"Yeah? I know that's weird to plan more date in the middle of the date, I'm not trying to pressure you." 

"I've never been on a date before, so. This is setting the precedent." 

"The precedent," he says. "For future dates?" 

Is he hopeful? You open your mouth without thinking. "With you." 

His lips purse to one side, tamping down a big smile. Your cheeks hurt from how much you've smiled tonight. Is it always like this? Being with someone, dating, is it always unnervingly pleasant? You're eager to find out, and Eddie's eager to show you. 

"Let me go track down our waitress and we can probably get to the Hawk before the seven thirty," he says, clambering sideways out of the booth. 

You and Eddie are fifteen minutes late for a slasher movie, but you get there. Dark, two lone seats at the back are your only options, and you cram into them together with a frankly ridiculously huge bucket of popcorn to share. Eddie keeps whispering even when it's quiet and ticking off your rowmates, but he's being so sweet on you that you forget where you are. You forget to worry about what people are thinking. 

It's bliss. 

"Look at that," Eddie says, a handful of popcorn to his lips. "Ew, that's bloody. Shit, sweetheart, don't look at that." 

Sweetheart. "What do you think that is?" you whisper. 

"The fake blood? Isn't it pig's blood?"

"Is that legal?" 

Eddie almost drops the popcorn as something super gross happens, a silver flash and a spray of sticky orange movie blood coating the protagonist. "Holy fuck," he says, much too loudly as he puts the popcorn in your lap and covers your eyes. 

You laugh in surprise, "Woah, wait a second!" 

Someone shushes you loudly (and deservedly) from the row in front. 

"Sh, we're at the movies!" Eddie whisper-shouts. "Don't be inconsiderate." 

You peel his hand from your eyes. It doesn't drop entirely, long fingers slipping slowly down your cheek, turning your face to his. He's close, the nature of the small seats and your low conversation, his skin glowing with a red-pink and dappled white as the movie plays to your left. 

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers. 

On the walk to Benny's, your mind had drifted to the fantasy of a kiss. Eddie and his hands, the small silver bands of his rings and their heavier signets, how he'd offer to drive you home, walk you to your door, and peck you chastely in goodbye. He'd smell like his cologne that you tend to notice when he returns his borrowed books on Saturday mornings, chamomile and something deeper you've never been able to identify, no matter how long he stood there chatting. His lips would feel solid and cold from the weather, and here's where you stopped yourself from thinking any further, blood rushing to your wind-bitten cheeks. 

It's not so simply condensed, here. 

"I've never kissed anyone before," you whisper. 

"I'll have to set a good precedent, then," he says, rubbing the hollow of your under eye tenderly. "Or you can say no. That's okay, too."

You shake your head, "I want you to." 

The eagerness that's been simmering behind his eyes all night rears as he ducks in for a kiss. It's not what you're expecting, but it isn't bad; it's lots of things, his hand on your face and your elbow, your hands vying for him in startled delight, the popcorn between your knees tipping dangerously to the side as your lips give under his. 

He doesn't smell like chamomile at first, but hairspray. He presses against the seam of your lips and only as they part, forcing you to suck in a breath through your nose, do you smell it on him, close now. The cologne must linger on his shirt. 

He pulls away to shush you gently but urgently, Don't get us kicked out, it seems to say. 

And he's kissing you again. Nothing heavy, charged all the same, the barest taste of sweet popcorn shared between you. His hand does half the work, the tracing of his fingertips and the soft line they draw as he slots them behind your ear puttyifying you, like jelly in his warm palm. You make an unsure sound and he pulls away a second time, sugary brown eyes widened in concern.

"Bad?" he whispers. 

"Am I doing it right?" you ask. 

The concern becomes adoring. You feel like you've been injected with manic butterflies, having a guy like Eddie looking at you like that. "You're doing it super right," he says, so quietly you can barely hear him. "I'd tell you practise makes perfect 'cos I'm dying to do it again, but it was already perfect. You lying to me?" 

"No, of course I'm–" 

"I was kidding," he says, his side pressed heavily to the back of his chair as he drops his hand to your elbow casually.

"Oh. I knew that." 

He pats your arm, sympathetic, a tad condescending but he's hot enough to get away with it like this, lips kissed rosy and a glossy black curl falling into his eyes. 

You look down at his lips. Eddie doesn't make you beg, but he does gesture you forward, your hand landing atop his thigh as you angle up for another kiss. It's unlike you, but it's such a rush of feeling, you don't give your hokey-pokey brain time to consider the things you'd usually worry about. 

That being said, you pause just before your lips connect. You close your eyes too hard, head listing to the side self-consciously. 

Eddie must see it, whispering reassurances with a rough scratch, "Hey, it's okay. You can kiss me. You worry a lot for such a pretty girl, you know that?" He takes your hand. "Don't overthink it." 

"I can't," you say. 

"Take the night off. Let me worry…" His breath fans over your lips. "I'll take the lead," he suggests, closing the short gap between you. 

Your hand goes limp in his. 

—

The flowers are delivered to your desk sometime in the mid-afternoon. Pearly white lilies with green spots creeping toward the soft edges. Your chest yawns open and your lips curl into a smile like you've been hooked, rubbing a thick petal between your thumb and your forefinger. 

There's a long note folded and tied to one of the stems. 

Y/N, 

I am so, so sorry. So sorry. I am the sorriest boy who has ever lived, and I would love to make it up to you. Please call me when you get the flowers and tell me if they're a sufficient apology, or don't call me and I'll send you more. I know you said it was fine, but still.

Yours, Eddie Munson. 

P.S. did the flashlight guy have to be that mean? He pretty much blinded us with that thing. And did he have to make fun of my jacket? 

P.P.S I promise I will get you unbanned from the Hawk. Best date ever, yeah? 

You'll call him. Getting kicked out was a joint effort, after all, and you really want him to kiss you dizzy again, even if you found it hard to look at him on the drive home.

Maybe if he kisses you enough, you'll forget how it felt to be shepherded out of the movie theatre like a common criminal. 

You drop the note between the pages of your current read with a sigh. "Best date ever," you say. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you so much for reading! i really hope you enjoyed ♡ if you did, please considering reblogging, it means the world and makes a difference :D 

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

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

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

<?>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gothams gloomy as always..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he's kinda weird ngl :/