Edward Nashton X Y/n - Tumblr Posts

I know this isn't as good as the one last time, but I promise I'm gonna make a better one soon, just so y'all wait, but I gotta pick up my mental stability first.

Thinking about dressing Edward up in a collar and leash, dragging him around his shitty apartment while he crawls behind you. Making him hump a pillow or your leg just so you can giggle and make fun of him for cumming like that. Shoving his nose in the mess he made and calling him a very bad dog, only giving him the praise he so desperately craves once he licks it up.

don't you wanna be nobody every once in awhile - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW) ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚♡

{contents ♡ very minor angst, choker wearing, pillow humping, praise/degradation mix}

{word count ♡ ~800}

{author's note ♡ i took a sort of softer approach with this one because that's what i as the author needed atm, but rest assured that freaky and mean requests are always welcome.}

♡ every night was like a scratched, skipping record, looping the same little riff until you were sure it had driven you hysterical. why was edward so insistent on seeing the skin he was in as distorted and alien when you saw it as a warm safe haven? why was he so dead set on ripping his body limb from limb when in your eyes, each splatter of freckle, each wisp of hair, each pale purple vein, each and every piece of him was just...perfect?

♡ it plucked and pulled at the strings of your heart, the way he treated himself in moments like these. it only happened in the dark. it only happened under the covers. he'd mumble stop or don't if your eyes lingered on his bare skin for too long as he stripped. for the love of god, he was about to be inside of you! this should feel fun, this should feel safe, this should feel nothing short of completely and entirely comfortable. nothing slit the mood's throat faster than sensing that edward was only doing this because you wanted it. that he was gritting his teeth and fighting back against the bitter taste of insecurity coating his tongue the whole time.

♡ so something needs to be done. that much is crystalline.

♡ it starts off slow, gently spoon-fed, made easy to digest. pretty boy. edward seems to quite like that one. you have a small, crackling fire of hope stoking in your heart that maybe he's starting to believe it. that he's so beautiful, edward. so sweet. such a good little angel.

♡ the response is instantaneous. his fingers dig into your hips. his shallow thrusts become deeper, sloppier, hungrier, starved. he bites his lips and tries to conceal his breathy whimpers, but most of them burst through and come spilling out into the warm, heavy air.

♡ and an idea begins to hatch, more and more pieces of the shell popping off and crumbling apart in your brain as edward's whines become more desperate and frenzied. maybe what he needs is a transformation. something real, something tangible to show him just how much of a pretty boy he really is.

♡ and a transformation it truly is when you wrap the soft, velvety choker around his neck. the way his doughy eyes sparkle and stare up at you as you hook the clasp is deliciously delicate. such a flawless picture it is, and you drink it in with passionate thirst.

♡ this is really what he needed the whole time, it was stupidly clear--he needed somebody to grab hold of the reins. if he wasn't going to believe that he was perfect, somebody else was just going to have to do it for him. that was the goal: an opportunity to be your pristine blank slate.

♡ it's adorably pathetic how jumpy and reactive he is to every light, grazing brush of your fingers around his neck or each squeeze on the plush of his thighs. yet still, you're cautious not to push him too far. he wants to feel good on his own terms, yes? then he can just show you. you can be his attentive, captured audience, waiting with wide eyes and bated breath for every next move.

♡ he rolls in shaky, jagged circles against the pillow. he's already slicked with sweat, and the silver heart pendant on his choker makes metallic rings with each desperate thrust forward.

♡ you're watching as his hands grip the sides of the pillow and splotches of the case darken from the thick precum he's dribbling. you're listening to his moans reach higher in pitch with every back and forth sway of his hips. he wants. god, he needs. needs to feel your soft touch, needs to feel the wet warmth of you squeezing around him, needs you to tug on his hair and force him to look at you dead in the beady eyes; i'm your good boy. i'm your needy bitch.

♡ yeah, that's my pretty slut, isn't it? you'd purr to him. his cheeks would be stained with the reddened rivers of overstimulated tears as you held his face in your hands. gonna cum all over yourself? yeah, gonna make a mess for me? dirty, filthy. i didn't even have to touch you. come on, then. let go for me, sweetheart. c'mon, be a good puppy.

♡ it was almost as if the world had lost a slice of film; he came to, panting, heaving, round cheeks an angry, ragged red. and he needs to hear it right away: you were so, so good, eddie. my sweet boy.

♡ he's grinning, a dazed, euphoria-fueled smile slapped across his face as he pulls the pillow away. you'd have to keep this little game in mind the next time he decided to pick apart the pieces of himself again.