summary; you get into a bella situation in breaking dawn. lol-
EDWARD
Absolutely heartbroken. Think back to Bella’s death in breaking dawn. He’s angry with himself for letting you go through with this—and angry with you for ‘deciding to leave him’.
“You have to accept what is.” You say, your eyes pleading with him not to make things even worse. “Because you’ve given me no choice!” He yells. Your eyes widen. “We’re supposed to be a team, remember?” You can feel a small tear rolling down your cheek. “But you’ve decided this on your own.”
“You’ve decided to leave me.”
“But you’ll still have the baby!” Edward’s golden eyes flicker over to yours with a terrifying slowness. “Do you honestly think I could ever love it or even tolerate it, if it killed you?” He asks, anger radiating through his core. “I’m sorry.” You sob as he walks out of Carlisle’s office and leaves you on the exam table.
Completely alone.
CARLISLE
Unlike his son, Carlisle is reasonable. He understands you want to keep the baby—but he still can’t find it in his heart to find any joy in the situation. He pleads with you to let him get rid of it, but in the end he lets you choose.
“Please just think about this clearly.” Carlisle pleads. You’ve both seen what’s happened to Bella when she gave birth to your ‘granddaughter’ (even though you share no blood relation). “We know what Bella went through.” He says softly, his gentle voice slightly wavering as he kneels down to your bloated stomach.
“Please.”
“I can’t, Carlisle. This is our child.” Carlisle sighs, pressing a kiss to your swollen tummy. “If you won’t change your mind, I won’t press any further.” He says, although you know it’s killing him inside to see you like this. In a few days time, you’ll go into labor and he’ll be the one delivering your demon baby.
and likely biting you to keep you with him.
JASPER
This cowboy is having a panic attack. Being an empath, he can always tell when you’re in pain—which is all the time. And it’s all his fault. He was supposed to protect you, not destroy you.
“You’re in pain again, darlin’.” Jasper observes, gently wrapping his harms around you from behind—and cradling your stomach. “I’m okay, Jasper.” You can already feel the effects of his power trying to lighten your mood. And it was working. You cant help but smile as you think about your new baby.
Jasper wasn’t as happy. None of the Cullens were.
Except Rosalie. Her and Jasper had been doting on you the entire pregnancy. Jasper had since given up on trying to convince you otherwise too. “Are you going hunting tonight?” You ask, looking up at your golden-eyed cowboy. “I was going to stay in with you tonight, darlin’.” He smiles, burying his head in your shoulder.
“Someone has to keep you company.”
ESME
Such a mother. She has years of experience in ‘parenting’ and even had a child of her own—so she knows the pain. Although, she’s even more gentle with you because of your fragile state.
“Do you need anything, dear?” Esme asks, her perfectly curled auburn hair bouncing as she trails after you. “I’m okay, Esme.” You smile, meeting her golden eyes. She can tell you’re lying. “You should really be resting.” She says, gently helping you to the couch. The baby may not be hers (because that is biologically impossible).
But you are still her mate.
Esme sits down on the couch, carefully pulling you down beside her as she softly strokes your swollen stomach. “You’re going to be an amazing mother.” She says, smiling brightly. Despite the tragic situation, Esme has succeeded in making it seem normal—like a happy, human pregnancy.
As happy as having a half-vampire baby can be.
ROSALIE
Rosalie’s always wanted a baby. She helped raise Renesmee and ever since, there’s been an infant sized hole in her undead heart. So when she hears the news of your pregnancy—she can’t help but be excited.
“Are you hungry?” Rosalie asks, handing you a ‘blood’ smoothie that she had poured herself. Carlisle had first introduced them to you after you started losing an unhealthy amount of weight due to the demon inside you (as the other cullens believed). “A little.” You sigh. You always were.
You couldn’t help the craving for blood deep inside you.
Rosalie places the smoothie on the coffee table in front of you. She hated seeing you sickly—but at the same time, she couldn’t wait to meet her mate’s new baby. “Have you thought of any names yet?” She asks sweetly, bringing the smoothie to your lips. “Not yet.” you confess shyly.
“We still have time.” She smiles.
ALICE
Since she’s able to see into the future, she knows of your pregnancy before it even happens—and tries everything to prevent it. But when it still happens anyways; she couldn’t be more distraught.
“That thing is killing you!” Alice yells, frustrated by your insistence to keep the monster that was slowly killing you from the inside out. “Call it what it is, Alice!” You cry. “A baby.” Alice lets out a deep sigh, walking over to you and gently hugging your nearly bone thin form. It hurt her to see you like this.
“I cant let it hurt you.”
“I’m going to be okay, Alice.” You smile weakly. “If things go south, Carlisle can just turn me at the last second.” There was no guarantee he could—but you had hope. “And think of all the fun we can have together.” You gently take her cold hands into yours, stealing a glance into her warm gaze.
“Together.”
EMMETT
Very excited, but nervous dad vibes. On one hand, he can’t wait to play with the new kid (and watch football with it), but on the other, he feels overwhelming guilt for putting you through this much pain.
“Do you have any name ideas?” You ask your mate as you sit down on the soft leather couch, holding a ‘blood smoothie.’ “I was thinking Logan or Gabe.” He chuckles, before abruptly looking down at your exhausted form. Bruises covered your body and your face reeked of exhaustion. Emmett couldn’t help but feel guilty.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, gently grabbing one of his frozen hands.
Emmett can’t even form the words. It’s strange. Usually he’s such a fun loving guy—but seeing you like this really changed him. “Why don’t we watch a comedy?” He suggests, grabbing the remote and changing the subject. He was good at distracting you from the pain. “What movie do you want to watch?” He asks, pulling you close.
God the way you write ed is phenomenal, could you write how ed reacts to "almost kisses" (he just keeps getting interrupted) knowing ed, he'd probably start throwing a tantrum after just a couple lolll
Fourth times the charm
a/n: ahhhh this is such a cute prompt! I love it :3 + I had this in my drafts since LAST YEAR. I’ll write again bc im bored
Edward Elric x Gn!Reader
The first time it happened, Edward tried to laugh it off. Barely.
Your fingers were just beginning to unfasten the clasp of his red coat, lips trailing warm, featherlight kisses along the sharp line of his neck. His breath hitched; hands trembled slightly at your waist, the automail one holding steady only because it had no blood to betray his nerves.
But life had other plans.
“Brother!”
The door slammed open, Al’s towering armor frame halfway through it. “We have a situation!”
You and Edward froze.
Al’s eye glowed obtusely in the hollow of his helm, then flickered brighter. “O-Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—! But this is important!” he added, panic creeping in.
Edward groaned, forehead thunking against your shoulder. “Al you have the worst timing.”
“I said I’m sorry!” Al squeaked, already backpedaling. “We’ll talk later!”
The door slammed again.
You were trying not to laugh.
“Not funny,” Ed muttered against your shirt, his voice a low grumble.
“I was right there.”
The second time, it was Mustang.
Of course it was.
You and Edward were alone in one of the guest offices, the air thick with anticipation. You’d both been dancing around this all day, his hand on yours during dinner, your fingers brushing over his during that slow walk back, the kind of looks that made time slow down.
Life with Ed’s been great. More than great, really.
He leaned in, breath mingling with yours. Lips just inches away.
And this time maybe it was karma.
“Fullmetal,” came the smooth, too-damn-amused voice of Colonel Roy Mustang. “Didn’t realize this room was occupied.”
Edward’s head whipped around. “You bastard.”
Mustang arched a brow, one hand smugly on the doorknob. “You might want to lock the door next time. Just a suggestion.”
“You wanna die, Mustang?!”
“Love to see you try, shortstack.”
You had to hold Edward back, and honestly, you were maybe 30% trying. The rest of you wanted to see what would happen if he actually threw a chair.
“I hate him,” Edward fumed later, pacing a rut into the floor. “He did that on purpose. Smug piece of cra—”
You kissed his cheek. “We’ll try again.”
“Oh, we’re trying again. This isn’t over.”
The third time was… worse. To put it kindly.
You’d settled on the library lounge at HQ, of all places, because Ed swore no one ever used it.
“You sure?” you asked, eyebrow raised.
“No one comes here. It’s just dusty books and armchairs. We’re fine.”
He said that like it wasn’t the exact kind of place he would hang out in, but you let it slide.
This time, you were on his lap. It was slow, soft, the way he touched you. His calloused hand curled gently around your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You were both flushed, but calm—his golden eyes fixed on yours with an unspoken hunger that had been growing all week.
He leaned in again.
You tilted your chin and connected your lips. The two of you had closed your eyes. Unable to see the man who walked in.
“Ah! Young love!”
You jerked back, nearly falling off his lap.
Edward nearly screamed.
Major Alex Louis Armstrong stood in the doorway, glistening muscles flexed through a ripped military shirt, dramatic tears sparkling in the corners of his eyes.
“It brings such joy to see the fires of passion ignite in the youth of today!” he boomed, clasping his hands over his heart. “A love like this…reminds me of my great-great-grandfather and his courtship rituals!”
“WHY?” Ed exploded, scrambling to his feet and somehow dragging you with him. “WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?!”
“I come to this lounge every third Thursday to polish my medals!” Armstrong declared proudly. “A family tradition passed down through the Armstrong line for generations!”
“I’m gonna lose my mind.”
You covered your face, half in horror, half in helpless laughter. Ed looked like he was seconds away from detonating.
“You two continue,” Armstrong said brightly, setting down a velvet-lined case. “I won’t disturb you further.”
“You already did!” Edward snapped. “Three times! Three freaking times! First Al, then Mustang, now—! I swear to God, the universe hates me.”
He turned to you, eyes wild, hair frazzled.
“I’m cursed. We’re cursed.”
“I mean the laws of equivalent exchange say—“
“Not in the mood for that right now.” Though, his eye stopped twitching so you considered that a win.
You bit your lip, trying to stifle a giggle. “So what now?”
He jabbed a finger toward the door. “We’re locking everything. Every door, every window, burning the sign-in sheets—no one is finding us. We’re finishing this.”
“Oh?” you teased. “Finishing, are we?”
He flushed so red it almost matched his coat. “N-Not like that! I just mean—we’re kissing! Like normal people! Just once! Without a full-scale military intervention!”
You stepped forward, tugged gently on his collar, and kissed the tip of his nose.
He blinked. Stared at you.
“…That’s it. I’m eloping.”
“Bet.”
Your room was quiet.
For once.
No clanking armor. No smug colonels. No sparkly muscle-men busting in with emotional monologues. (Thank God!) Just the low hum of the lamp and the gentle shuffle of your movements as you shut the door.
And locked it. Twice. For good measure.
“Good call,” Edward muttered as he dropped onto the edge of your bed, legs splayed, hair half-tugged from its braid. His red coat was folded neatly over your chair (after he nearly threw it across the room in frustration and then remembered he liked that coat).
You turned and leaned against the door. “Still expecting someone to break through?”
“I’m not taking any more chances,” he muttered. “We’ve been ambushed. Three times.”
You snorted, walking toward him slowly. “You’re acting like you were on a battlefield.”
“I was! A battlefield of blue-balled agony!”
You burst out laughing. How out of character for the alchemist but too surprising giving his short temper.
Edward gave you a look, but he couldn’t hide the twitch of a grin. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“You’re lucky I’m still here, after all that.”
He tilted his head, gaze warming. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I know.”
The mood had shifted more lighter, pleasant. No jokes. No dramatics. Just Edward Elric, sitting on your bed, looking at you like you were gravity itself.
You took the final steps toward him and eased into his lap, arms looping around his neck. “So. No more interruptions?”
“If anyone so much as breathes outside that door,” he growled, “I’m setting them on fire.”
“Mm. Fullmetal Flame Alchemist has a nice ring to it.”
He snorted. “You’re impossible.”
“You love it.”
“I do.”
It slipped out, raw and certain.
Your breath caught just a little, but he didn’t look panicked. He just looked…relieved. Like he’d been holding it in for longer than he wanted to admit.
“I do,” he said again, quieter. “I love you.”
You smiled, hands threading gently through his hair. “I love you, too.”
And finally! Finally, you kissed.
There was no rush. No sudden bang of a door, no voices yelling about emergencies or medals or whatever else the universe had decided to throw at you all week. Just the soft pressure of his mouth against yours, tentative at first, like he couldn’t believe it was really happening.
Then he pulled you closer, deepening it.
His hands, one warm and real, one cool and metallic, settled on your waist, steadying himself like you were the only thing anchoring him. You felt the tension melt from his shoulders as you kissed him again, slow and sure, like you had all the time in the world.
“You’re really here,” he whispered against your lips.
“So are you.”
He rested his forehead against yours, golden eyes half-lidded, flushed and breathless.
ft. Dano!Riddler (Batman 2022)
Day 8 - Webcam, Free Use, Cages
Warnings: Nsfw (MDNI), web-cam livestream, cages / reader is locked up at one point, aspects of free-use and BDSM, p in v, fingers, mask kink, consensual but reader is under his influence so slight power imbalance, he's sweet on you, mention of idolatry, mentions of canon typical crimes / violence, mentions of mania/delusions of grandeur
Synopsis: Edward is the most brilliant man you've ever known--you were so blessed to be his, and for him to be yours. You'd do anything for him...even in front of his dozens of fans.
Word Count: 2251
Stack x Fem!Reader (nsfw)
A/N: I'm literally obsessed with him, for your information--probably OOC in this prompt but whatever i tried LOL-- i usually imagine him awkward and more simpy, super obsessed / smitten with the object of his affection...anyways, here's probably one of the kinker things ive written dADSFASDF we're baptized by fire i guess hehe
You curled up on yourself, hugging your knees to your chest as you hunched uncomfortably, head ducked low. Despite the blanket bundled up around you, you were freezing and desperately wishing the radiator would kick on to heat the drafty room. It was dark, all the lights off, and you had been alone for far longer than you would have like to endure.
As if by fate, there came the sound of keys jingling in the door’s lock, and you craned you neck to look. The deadbolt shifted loudly, the door knob turned, and silhouetted against the light of the apartment hallway was a bulkily dressed man.
He strode in, locking the door behind him and tossing his apartment keys on the side table near the entrance. He didn’t bother to kick off his tactical boots, and they thudded against the dusty floorboard. He walked into the next room where you sat, a pitiful sight.
Your eyes lifted to meet the ones behind clear framed glasses, and you perked up slightly, attention completely on him. Edward.
He had the soft, round face of someone entirely unassuming, looking sweet even. Though, you knew first hand what sort of dark secrets and twisted intellect resided in that brain of his. Regardless, you felt a wave of relief as he entered, glancing to the corner of the room where your cage was, a small smile forming on his lips.
“Look at you,” he cooed. It would have been condescending if he didn’t look so pleased to see you. He approached, boots heavy with every footfall, and reached a hand between the bars of the cage to stroke your hair tenderly. “Are you happy I’m home, sweetheart?”
You nodded, eyes flitting to where his other hand clutched a plastic bag at his side. He followed your gaze, and withdrew his hand. “Just some supplies,” he explained, reading the question in your expression. “For next time.” You didn’t have to wonder what ‘next time’ meant—all you had to do was look on the news to know that everyone was clamoring about when and where the next Riddler attack would take place.
They called him a radical extremist, an urban terrorist preying over Gotham…but you knew him for who he really was: a visionary, serving justice and pointing a light at the corruption that plagued the city. And, more than that, he was your Edward—brilliant and soft-spoken, and utterly devoted to you.
Edward reached a hand down to unlock the latches of your cage, stepping back so you could crawl out and stretch the limbs that had been cramped for too long. “Sorry I’m home late,” Edward apologized. “There was a shooting at one of the downtown stops—it delayed the whole subway schedule.” He set his bag of goodies on the cluttered coffee table, before turning to walk towards his computer set up.
“We’ll have to eat dinner after the stream,” he hummed, contrite. “It’s scheduled for 8:00pm.” You rose to your feet slowly to follow after him, wanting to be close after being separated for so long. You kneeled down next to his chair so you could rest your head in his lap, and he lowered a hand to stroke you as his other clicked away.
After a few more minutes of clicking and typing, Edward had logged onto his secure, encrypted website. The whole process honestly confused the hell out of you, and it only made you respect him all the more for knowing the ins and outs of computer science and hacking. He really was a genius, and the reminder never ceased to make you swell with pride for being his and vice versa.
Edward rose from the chair, walking to the side of the room to dress into his infamous garb. You watched him don the mask so many dreaded and feared—the face behind the movement, which reaped violence against the rats of the city. All of it Edward had symbolically designed, meticulously orchestrated, and filmed for all to see.
As he strapped in and covered up all of his identifiable features, you saw his figure bulk up with the layered fabric and leather. More so, you saw the shift in him that never ceased to amaze you—Edward was set aside now, and the Riddler had come out to play.
He reached a glove towards you, and you stood still while his hands gently maneuvered a little black, lacey mask over your face. He felt it necessary to protect your identity as well, seeing as you were now an extension of him, his sweetheart. He would always take care of you; always make sure you were safe and looked after.
The Riddler patted your head, before stalking past you to sit back down at his computer chair. You laid nearby, languidly stretching your body along the couch, sighing contentedly as you watched him work. He set up the camera, clicked a few more buttons, and soon the red light had flickered on.
“Greetings, everyone,” his voice garbled out, the voice modulator making him sound deeper and more frightening than the man who usually spoke so softly to you. “I’ve got something real special for you tonight. Something they didn’t want you to see.”
You listened as the Riddler began his manic diatribes, informing his loyal followers of the latest updates. Eventually, growing bored, you tuned him out, deciding to leaf through the latest book he’d brought you: The Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein.
Around an hour had passed as you went about your nightly routine, the deep sound of his voice lending a pleasant ambience to your reading. Then, startling you from your book, you heard that intimidating voice—comforting and familiar—call your name.
You glanced up quickly, looking at him. The red light was still on, the stream ongoing, and yet he had his chair turned to look at you. The blue glow of the monitors cast him in a rim light, though the lenses of his glasses seemed to glow as it reflected back. Raising a hand, he crooked his finger at you, silently beckoning you over.
You marked your page and set your book aside, obediently rising from the couch and walking over to him. As you approached, you could see the chat on the side of the screen receiving new messages, the viewers evidently delighted by your appearance.
Jus$tice_anycost: she’s finally back on stream! Thought the system got her lolz XD
Eyeswideopen98: She looks so pretty in her new mask omg o///o
WakeUpG0th@m: Yo, he’s got a girl?? I’m new /srs
Eyeswideopen98: @ WakeUpG0th@m yea, she gets the mission, she’s chill
Riddlemesaved: not the only thing she ‘gets’ ;)
Rattrapsss: ngl, sometimes I like her voice more than his LOL
Riddlemesaved: fuck, those tits always get me…
The Riddler turned his head to read, his hands absent-mindedly trailing your thighs and your ass. There never was a need for him to ask your permission. You were happy to service the one you loved whenever he desired your touch.
His eyes seemed to shine with delight as the waves of compliments rolled your way. He thought his devoted followers were so lucky to see your luminous beauty. “You’ve got fans,” he spoke lowly, the sound growling out of the modulator. His traveling hands dipped into your waist band, and he pulled your shorts down without much warning or fanfare. “C’mere.”
You let him pull you into his lap, your ass planted on one thigh as he helped hook your legs around the armrests. Spread open now for the blinking red camera light, you blushed a little, and gave the fans a bashful smile. His chest flush to your back, you heard his breath coming out heavy and hot through the holes in his mask.
Jus$tice_anycost: Damn look at that, her panties are already soaked…
Riddlemesaved: @ Ju$tice_anycost, cause she’s always ready to be used xxx
WakeUpG0th@m: Hooooly shit…
A small whine sounded in your throat as one of his hands wrapped around to rub against your clothed pussy. Two leather-covered fingers circled the wet fabric, a filthy sight. More messages flooded in, eager and lustful directed at the two of you.
“Isn’t she so beautiful?” came his throaty garbled voice behind you. “So good to me.”
Eyeswideopen98: She’s perfect for him…
Rattrapsss: can we see??? <3
You sighed softly as he removed his hand from you, lifting the glove up to your face. He patted your cheek gently, before nudging the tip of the glove between your teeth. “Bite,” he ordered, and you obeyed. Slowly, you tugged the glove from his hand, revealing his fingers, thick and dexterous from all that typing. You opened your mouth, letting the glove fall limply to the floor.
His hand returned to your pussy, and gently it pulled the fabric of your panties aside to reveal your sex, bare and dripping with arousal. The Riddler glanced up to read the messages in the chat, before a throaty, dark chuckle vibrated against your back. “Guess we’ll be online for a little while longer,” he spoke, and then he pushed two digits into you knuckle-deep.
A soft, draw out moan left your lips as he gently fucked you with his fingers. You felt the leather of his mask press against your neck as he took in a deep, ragged breath. You could feel the firmness of his erection against your ass, poking you. You wiggled your ass against it slightly, feeling pent up and a little cheeky.
Your sweet Edward gasped at the feeling, and the sound made your heart flutter. But soon, the Riddler was placing a firm hand on your hip, the other fumbling with his belt as he struggled to undo the zipper and buttons there.
WakeUpG0th@m: fuck, this is so hot
Eyeswideopen98: he’s the riddle, she’s the answer…
Riddlemesaved: yesss, this is my favorite part…!
You felt his hot breath panting against the back of your neck as he freed his cock, and eagerly positioned himself up against you. With his back leaned against the chair, he lowered your hips down so he speared you onto him inch by inch. Your face screwed up with the intrusion, a small cry escaping you once he was fully hilted, the head of his cock nestled against your cervix.
His hand moved north to your chest, and he squeezed your breasts through your shirt. With a strangled groan, he began to move, rolling his hips up into you as he grinded against your ass. His cock was covered in your slick, the sight gleaming against the bright light of his set up.
“A-Ah,” you gasped, your hands clinging onto the armrests for dear life as he picked up the pace, hips snapping against you.
“Damn, you’re so fucking tight. So perfect for me,” he gritted out, pumping into you with enthusiastic zeal. He used you freely, and you loved every second of it. You tried to read the onslaught of comments popping in the chat, but you couldn’t make out more than a few words—you were too drunk on the feeling of his cock pistoning into you.
“Oh my god,” you drew the words out in a breathless moan, and you felt his hands flex into the dips of your hips.
“Yes,” he growled out. “I am your god.” His hips punctuated each syllable harshly, and you gasped at each thrust.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you sobbed out as he fell into a wild frenzy, fucking into you so hard you were certain you would be sore later. But he was too intoxicating, moaning so deliciously in your ear, that your pleasure was building at an alarming rate.
“W-Wait, I…mmm, I-I’m—” you babbled out nonsensically, but he didn’t ease up his brutal pace. Your eyes screwed shut and you bit down on your bottom lip. The sound of his balls slapping against you tipped you over the edge—the pleasure was all too much.
You came with a cry, clear liquid squirting from you as it hit the edge of the desk and wetted his keyboard. Edward’s hand flew to your clit, rubbing furiously to extend your orgasm, sending droplets this way and that, making an utter mess of the chair and computer.
Within seconds he was pulling out to shoot pearlescent ropes of cum all over your skin, his climax ripping through him violently as he choked out a strained, muffled sound. You leaned your head back against his shoulder as he gently slapped his cock against your folds, spreading his cum around so that it mixed with your own juices.
Jus$tice_anycost: annnnnd im saving this one to my desktop folder… :P
Riddlemesaved: guys I just came so fucking hard I thought I died for a sec
Eyeswideopen98: otp (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )づ♡
You felt your lover shift beneath you, hugging you to his chest as he leaned forward. His hand moved for the mouse, and he read the comments. His eyes crinkled slightly in what must have been a satisfied smile. “Thanks everyone for attending tonight’s meeting,” he spoke, his altered voice deep and content. “That’s all for now, so be sure to tune in next time for more info on our next rally.”
He clicked his mouse a few times, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep your limp body upright against him. You focused on steadying your breathing, and craned your next to kiss his cheek. With that, the little red light flickered off.
A.N. this quickly became one of my favorite fics ever written
"Edward?" You asked. Currently you splayed out horizontally on your bed on a cool fall day. The sweater you were wearing provided you an extra dose of comfort to the general energy of the room. Edward, your boyfriend, was laid parallel to you. His dark blue sweater matched yours. The color coordinating plaid fleece pajamas were also a nice touch on the pair of you. It was something cute you've always wanted to do, couple twinning. And Edward was willing to do whatever to make you happy.
"Yes?" He maintained a easy going smile while looking at you. You had been rereading A Wrinkle In Time. An easy read of course, but always put your mind at peace. Edward didn't have a book to read or really anything to pass time. He says he is perfectly content in your company, but you still wonder what he would be doing had you not been here. Probably pressing those same piano keys in infinite rhythms until disturbed.
"What is your favorite color?" A very innocent question. But what is the harm in that? The both of you have shared some crushing memories and experiences, you may as well know the mundane as well.
His smile grew and his eyebrows knitted. "Blue. Why do you ask?" He didn't have a genuine serious undertone behind the question. He was always trying to learn the way you were. Being unable to read your mind made you a puzzle he reveled in attempting to crack. Every time he would expect you to act in a certain way, you gave him a surprise in return.
"I was curious," you turn on your side and face him. Edward being Edward, he mirrors you. "You seem like a lover of blue. But I could also see a deep green. Like forest green," your voice was kept quiet. The wind looting the leaves can still be heard as you speak. You didn't need to speak so soft, your family was away for the night. You could scream for all that mattered, however keeping a small vocal presence felt appropriate. Anything louder than a calm word would be disturbing the peace of the environment.
His face pinched up for a moment, but then returned to his normal expression. "I fell out of love for green a long while ago. Blue is so rarely seen here, at least in the sky," he finished that quip with a cheesy smile. "Blue being rare has given itself a new place of importance," his eyes glanced down to your sweater then back into you, "in my heart."
Your bodies both hanged off different ends of the bed, luckily your heads were in the same placement. So when you lifted your hand to rest on his cheek, it wasn't a far reach. Your thumb brushed the cool skin, Edwards eyes never left yours for a moment. The golden iris' were filled with adoration. His hand came to rest on yours. The chill adding to the comfort he was already bestowing.
"What do you think mine is?" You whispered.
"Purple, for sure," he answered without even thinking. And of course he was right.
"Asking Alice counts as cheating," he leaned into your hand and chuckled. The kiss he left on the palm made you smile a little harder than you already had been.
"I didn't cheat," he spoke into your hand. "Everywhere we go shopping, your eyes are drawn to the same three colors. Green, black and purple, with a special affinity for purple. Oh and you wear a lot of purple in the pictures of you on your family's mantle."
"Am I that easy to read?" He pressed another kiss to your palm. He shook his head lightly at your comment.
"If only," he joked. After his joke the wind picked up outside, this time accompanied by a steady flow of rain. You sat up and looked at him, he copied you once again.
"If you ran home fast enough, how wet would you be? Would you even get wet?" He listened to your questions while helping fix your hair that had flattened due to laying down.
"Well I would get wet regardless. Probably not too bad but definitely damp." He finished his work and pulled you close to him so your entire body faced him. "And is this your way of kicking me out?" He chuckled again at his smart remark.
"It is very thoughtful that you worry on the safety of a hundred year old vampire." He placed a kiss to your eyelid, "I'd be sure not to run too fast. And I am fully comfortable staying in for the night. But," his voice matched your previous tone, "you must sleep tonight. I want 8 full hours."
"No you are staying." You threw your arms over his shoulders, your faces a few inches apart. "I don't want you outside, especially running in this weather. The roads are slippery," your tone changed to one more serious.
"I was going to sleep!" you argued. "...once I finished the next chapter of my book," you hoped the small smile you sent him would win him over.
"Of the book you've reread numerous times?" You didn't respond, only looked at him and shrugged. "Fine," he always gave in to you. "At least let me read it to you."
You smiled and got comfortable under your covers. You pulled back your comforter for him to join you underneath. He smiled and shook his head. But still wanting to do whatever makes you happy, climbed in. You clung onto his arm, he responded by kissing your head. You were convinced he read the book in a soft, quiet voice on purpose. Because no matter how strong your will to finish the chapter, you still were whisked away into sleep.
The sheer panic of his voice rang in your ears nearly as loud as the almoat defeaning crashing sound when stone hands had shot out of the ground and had crushed the two people. The scent of dirt and dust still lingered in the air, slowly mixing together with a sickening metallic scent. The rubble of stones perhaps was an act of mercy to hide you from whatever remains of human were buried beneath it yet it didn't do its job perfectly. After all you could clearly see the puddle of blood slowly running out of the cracks and fissures. You doubted that those people were still alive. Even if they were, there would be most likely no way for them to ever recover and return to normal.
You too had some cuts littering your skin yet no they felt almost insignificant. To you they at least did. To Edward they weren't. A surprised hiss pushed through your teeth when you felt the coarse material of a cloth being pressed against an open wound on your temple. You'd completely forgotten about it until Edward started wiping the half-dried blood away from it.
Your lips parted as you attempted to tell him off only for the words to die pathetically in your throat. It felt parched, most likely due to all the dust and dirt you had inhaled. Then there was that terror as well that slowly started to get into your skin. The adrenaline slowly left your system and only left behind the realisation that Edward had just killed two people. And the longer you sat there, the more horrifying that truth became.
He had just murdered two people.
The moment where his human hand tried to reach for another nasty cut on your arm, you reacted. Not with words for they wouldn't leave you for the moment but with actions instead. You slapped his hand away with all the strength you could muster at the moment before pressing your palm over the wound instead. It stung when you dug your fingers into the cut, triggering a bit more blood to seep out. But your own wounds were the least of your worries at the moment. You would survive.
It was definitely unexpected for Edward though. Golden eyes widened in surprise, glancing up at your face before they narrowed slightly. You knew what that meant. His short-fused temper had started to flare again.
"What are you doing?? I'm trying to help you!"
He looked like he didn't understand or pretended like he didn't at least. You believed that Edward indeed didn't want to understand why you were so frightened of him right now. Not even when the pile of stones and death was only a few metres away from the both of you.
He tried to clean the bleeding cut but you didn't let him, twisting your shoulders and squirming away from his hands. Until Edward seemed to have enough. His automail arm reached forward, grabbing yours and yanking it back to him.
"Stop it, you idiot! I'm trying to help you right now!"
Help you? You couldn't stop your gaze from wandering over to the rubble, your stomach dropping when you noticed that the puddle of blood had grown.
However, this time Edward noticed. His eyes followed your gaze, also landing on the rest of the stone hands he had summoned. His face twisted only then when he seemed to realise why you were being so skittish right now.
"That wasn-... I didn't mean to- It was an accident, alright?! I panicked for a moment!"
What kind of accident led to the brutal assault of two stone hands swatting people like they were mere ants?
You didn't understand. You didn't want to understand either.
"I'm sorry, okay?? I was just afraid that they would get away with you if I wouldn't do something! I saved you!"
Metal fingers dug into your flesh, pressing right against your bones. The pain followed almost immediately, vibrating through your arm and joining the fear that was already echoing around within you.
Please, can you write about a touch starved Edward getting home after a long hunt and getting straight to cuddle with Bella?
yeah, of course!!
home.
summary: after a long day, edward finally comes home to you, and you share a cozy afternoon together.
warnings: reader is a vampire. pure fluff!!
authors note: this takes place during breaking dawn pt.2!
it’d been a long a rainy day, him not by your side through much, if any of it.
but alas, he’d been hunting, so could you blame him?
you stood in the kitchen washing dishes that would probably never go to use. you just needed some since of normality.
renesme lay in her bed, void of sleep as she reads a book. the warm lighting around the house eased the tension in your shoulders. he’d been gone a long time.
and then you smelled him—an aroma of animals blood, cologne, and something uniquely him—before you saw him.
he opened the front door to your shared cottage, the door creaking at it’s hinges and floorboards softly groaning as if they’d been through a harsh days work—and perhaps they had.
he steps inside and closes the door (which weakly protests) behind him. he makes his presence known behind you as he gently wraps his cold white arms around your middle, the color of his ethereal skin contrasting against the vibrancy of your shirt.
he places a soft peck to the corner of your jawline a mumbles a, “hey, baby.” into your ear.
you turn your head back to softly kiss him, tasting the faint remnants of his hunt, which you assumed was successful.
“how was it?” you inquire.
“it was good.. caught some deer, emmett definitely got his fill. i thought he’d never stop drinking.” he joked
you chuckled, turning to face him fully as you buried your head into his crinkled—and a little unbuttoned—shirt. he chuckled with you, the sound vibrating through his chest.
“i’ll run your shower, wash the day off you.” you suggest.
you reluctantly pull away to go prepare his shower, when he gently grasps your wrist. you turn to look at him.
“go with me?”
your expression softens and your shoulders relax. a ghost of a smile graces your lips and you give a singular nod.
“of course.”
he follows you into the bathroom as you prepare the shower and he gets undressed. soon after, you follow his motions, ridding yourself of your clothes. he stands before you and you find yourself staring in admiration.
everyday you question what you could’ve done, what decisions you made, that led you to where you are now, this beautiful man standing in front of you like a greek sculpture, perfectly carved in perfect detail.
a smirk airs upon his lips.
“enjoying the view?”
you freeze with humiliation. he’d caught you staring. again.
“ ‘m just joking. c’mon, let’s get in.”
you step into the shower together and you gently wash his hair, him following the same motions to you as you wash and take care of each other.
when you get out you both wrap yourselves in your towels and get ready for bed. you get dressed in a simple pair of thin white pajama shorts and a grey tank top, while he wears a white t shirt and black and blue plaid pj pants.
you both go to say goodnight to renesme, knowing she won’t sleep anyhow.
you get back to your shared bedroom and he takes off his shirt, and you your shorts, before climbing into bed together.
you lay your head against his chest, listening to his lack of a heartbeat, as you subconsciously played with the drawstrings of his pants.
he runs his fingers through your hair with one hand, the other laying under his head, before moving to curl around you.
against his chest you gently hum the rhythm of the song “the heart of life” by john mayer.
he glances down at you, recognizing the tune as a song you first introduced to him when you’d first met in that well-loved, beat up red truck of yours.
he gently begins singing along to your humming until eventually your eyes drift shut, not in sleep, but in relaxation and peace.
(n.) the desire to stay in the sun; love of sunlight
cws; mentions of scars, mentions of ed's past, this is based on 'brotherhood' and takes place after the fight with father.
850 words.
You liked the sun. Loved it, even.
The warmth its light brought to those lucky enough to bask in it, the promises it held—of new days, new beginnings. The way it climbed the sky every morning like it had something to prove, especially after a particularly dark and chilled night. The struggles it had endured and overcome—its quiet perseverance. You admired that. Every scar, every imperfection it thought it had.
You were truly, irrevocably in love with the sun, without a shadow of a doubt.
Edward was (like) the sun.
Bright. Relentless in his pursuit of knowledge. Burning with a passion that couldn’t be extinguished, not by pain, not by loss. He was warmth in the best way, gently kissing your skin, enveloping you in his sweet embrace. Wrapped in sharp edges. A flame that was cradled and tended to by calloused hands.
He gave, and gave, and gave—selfless to a fault. Sacrificed without hesitation. Burdened himself with a guilt that he believed was his alone to carry. He masked his pain, stood tall even as the world tried to bring him down.
And yet, like the sun, he always rose.
You saw it in the way his eyes caught the light—golden and stubborn, always shining in his resolve. In his hair, either messily tied back, or on the rare occasion he’d let it flow freely, with strands that slipped loose and shimmered like daybreak when they caught the breeze. In his skin—sun-touched, freckled, and weathered by years of fights, whether with others or within himself—each mark a silent testament to all he’d endured. He was always waging some kind of war. A quiet, ongoing battle in his mind against grief and resentment: grief for losing his mother, and resentment—so much resentment—for trying to bring her back. For losing his younger brother’s body. For not being enough, even when he gave everything.
You saw it in his bones, forged from resolve, the kind that didnt break or falter, even when they ached. And you saw it in his soul—his beautiful, beautiful soul—resilient, fierce, and so full of love it hurt to look at sometimes. He wasn’t some untouchable god, even the power of alchemy couldn’t make him as much. He was just a boy. One who had lost it all yet carried that pain, and grew from it.
You never told him this comparison out loud.
You didn’t need to.
You showed him. Showed him in simple actions, in gentle touches, in the way you looked at him like he hung the stars himself. And he let you. He let you see him. Let you love him, even when he didn’t always know how to love himself.
And that, in itself, was a kind of miracle.
The sun hung low in the sky, warm and honey-colored, casting everything in a soft glow. Birds trilled somewhere among the tall grass, and the breeze carried the scent of wildflowers. Your paints were spread out beside you—open jars of color, half-used brushes, smudges on your hands and skirt—scattered in a beautiful mess.
Edward lay on his stomach, arms folded beneath his head, his shirt tossed somewhere in the scattered mess of palettes and pigment as you straddled his lower back. You’d picked up painting sometime after he’d gone west—at first, something to pass the time, something to keep your hands busy rather than let your heart dwell too long on the waiting. Then, slowly, it became something else. A quiet ritual. A way to translate the things you felt but couldn’t always say out loud.
It was peaceful. Passionate. Vibrant. It felt like you.
You never realized the luxury—the stillness—of painting until you started. The act of creating something just because it brought you joy, not because it served a purpose or saved a life. It was simply comforting, and now, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to.
Turns out, not constantly fighting for your lives was kind of nice.
You pressed the brush to his shoulder blade, watching the color bloom against his skin—blossoms of ochre and burnt sienna, smudging over freckles and old scars. You started with a golden sun, small and shining between his shoulder blades, its rays stretching outward in lazy arcs.
Around it, you added petals—marigolds, daffodils, and little sprigs of yarrow, things you’d studied and sketched during your free time. Flowers that represent strength, healing, new beginnings.
Things he never asked for, but had always deserved.
You didn’t rush. You took your time with each stroke, letting the colors blend and layer into one another. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt right. Every once in a while, you’d lean down and press a kiss to his back. To the sun you painted, to the petals around it, to the parts of him that had scarred and healed and endured. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. The soft rise and fall of his breath said enough.
He liked to think you were the one who brought the light.
But to you—
He was the living embodiment of the sun.
And you had always loved the sun.
no an really, i don’t expect engagement with this post cause the fandom is practically dead and i wrote this for fun… i really love edward elric it’s a bit of an obsession. my golden boy deserves all the love in the world 🔆
