Gotham Imagines and One Shots

Friends and lovers - Part 5 - Ed x Reader

For a moment, she had to admit that all seemed right with the world. (Y/n) had long hoped that one day Ed would take her into his arms and kiss her; would show her this kind of emotion, that he had feelings for her too. And the kiss, it felt so natural......so right. Ed's lips were so soft, so sweet; but then it hit her, those lips had kissed Kringle. It was from between those lips, that all those hateful, venom filled words had spilled. And really, if she thought about it, Ed was only kissing her because he didn't want her to speak to the cops, because he wanted her help, not because he had any feelings for her; not because he had begun to care and realised that he had been wrong all this time. But if he thought that a kiss was going to make up for everything; for all the hurt and pain that she had felt from being told that she was nothing compared to archivist, well he was very, very wrong. (Y/n) shaking the deeply buried emotions from her mind, and raising the gun, once more.

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God, why hadn't he done this sooner. Ed wrapping his arms around (Y/n), a little tighter, his lips continuing to move against hers. It felt so right; everything about it, about her, was just perfect. The way she fit him, was like a missing part of his puzzle. Ed wanting to slap himself for not seeing that the right woman had been with him all along; a woman that had loved him and hadn't had some foul boyfriend that treated him as if he were nothing. His mind going to places that it had never been before when thinking about (Y/n), to glorious possibilities. But in the middle of a wonderful fantasy; one where the beautiful woman in his arms agreed to help him dispose of the little problem, and then they found some breathtaking spot away from the city, where they could make love, Ed felt something push up against his belly and heard a click. He slowly releasing her and seeing her gun pressed into his stomach.

"Too little, too late, Ed. One kiss is not going to make up for everything that you have done and said. Not a million kisses, not a million times you saying that you love me could change it. In the past I would have given anything for a moment like this; but you don't mean it......we both know that. And the reason you gave me to not shoot you, was because I love you, not that you love me. So, I want you to leave and not come back. I don't care if you really have Kringle stuffed in the trunk of your car; I don't care if you have cut her up into a thousand tiny pieces. Tonight, didn't happen, nothing you have said, happened; and it will continue to be that way, unless you come here again. Now go........." (Y/n) taking a few steps back, shaking her head as it looked as though Ed was about to protest.

"Just get out..........." Her arm steady and gaze cold as she looked at him. Ed slowly, reluctantly turning and making his way to the door with (Y/n) following after him. He turning back as he moved outside, only to have the door slammed firmly in his face.

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(Y/n) pulled the piece of paper from the old typewriter, before scrunching it up and throwing it into the wastepaper basket, along with all the others. Her eyes turning to the window, and the rain that trickled down the large panes. It had been days since Ed had come knocking on her door; days since he had told her about killing Dougherty and Kringle.......since he had kissed her, and she hadn't left her apartment since; it not that she feared Ed, it just that she didn't want to bother with the world. That, and she felt guilty. Covering up for Ed, was wrong; even if he might have killed two people that she couldn't stand, it was no excuse for not having phoned the GCPD back, after she had kicked him out, and telling them everything. She had spent years covering criminal cases; years listening to and writing about those that found themselves on the wrong side of the law, and now here she was, possibly on the wrong side of the law herself. (Y/n) looking at the phone for the hundredth time since she had sat down that morning and tried to get some work done. The deadline for her latest book, looming on the near horizon; yet she couldn't sit there and write about other killers, when she could be keeping the secret of a killer, herself. (Y/n) letting out a heavy sigh, before pushing back her chair and getting to her feet, making her way over to the window and looking out over the quiet damp streets, below.

She had to do something......anything. She had to get her mind off Ed, off what had happened and what had been said. It was true that she only had Ed's word for it, that he had killed Dougherty and Kringle; that the record keeper's body was in his trunk. She hadn't seen anything after all, and Ed had been acting strange......so unlike himself. So perhaps he had had some kind of breakdown, and claiming that he was a killer, was some kind of hallucination. But no, he had sounded so sure, so calm and in control, that (Y/n) couldn't help but really think that it was all the truth. The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, making itself known again as she thought about it. The nights that she had spent wishing Kringle dead, seemingly having come to fruition. She knowing that it wasn't her fault, that if she did have some odd power where the people she didn't like, were killed, then Gotham would be missing a heck of a lot more of its citizens. (Y/n) making her way over to the door and grabbing her coat. She had to get out, get away; she had to clear her head and find something else to think about. (Y/n) pulling on her coat and grabbing her umbrella, before heading out into the grey and damp afternoon.