#oh and ed is also like no matter what please keep him from trying to make pancakes he wont listen but you have to stop him

[allbeendonebefore]

as you guys may or may not know i don’t enjoy writing romance because i oscillate between being neutral to repulsed on romance much of the time but when i occasionally am feeling romance favourable the stories i write seem to be things like “et stays at calvins ranch house in kananaskis, suffers from insomnia, and then gets out of bed and steps directly on calvin who is on the floor like this:”

[madelynraemunson]

NEED…MORE…EX-HUSBAND!EDDIE…I AM FERAL AND FOAMING AT THE MOUTH PLEASE BLESS US MORE I’M BEGGING

IT’S ANGST O’CLOCK!!!

𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠)

ex husband! eddie x fem!reader

“all that still matters is ‘love ever after’ — after the life we’ve been through” — life after you // daughtry

WC: ~950 words

3AM. The witching hour.

The air smells of twilight musk and marinating dew. It's pitch black all around you, the nearest gas station being an agonizing 1.3 miles away. You're also 10 miles from Hawkins, pulled over in nothing but platform heels, a black mini dress, and expired pepper spray in your purse. To make matters worse, the only friends up who seem to be up at this hour are hungry bears and obnoxious, chirping crickets. And skinwalkers if you're where you think you are.

A horrible ending to a girls night out. Just what you needed.

Alone and afraid, you decide to call the number one person on speed dial, whose gradual distaste towards you renders itself very evident from the moment he answers the phone.

"What?! I'm trying to sleep."

"Eds." you whimper into the phone. "I need you."

There's a long pause in response to your petrified sobs, followed by the clicking noise of a phone keyboard before you hear cursing and the frantic ruffling of sheets.

"I’ll be there."

"Well?"

You watch as Eddie crinkles his forehead in concentration, examining your car while his soot-tainted hands explore every crevice of your hood. Routine maintenance has never been as issue because you've always had a personal mechanic at your feet. But since the divorce, you've gotten pretty bad about it. Otherwise, the you and Eddie wouldn't be stuck in this situation. Obviously.

"Weeelp." Eddie sighs, stretching out every bit of the syllable. He slams the hood shut. "She's just about blown out. You're lucky that thing didn't overheat too much with you in it."

You've prided yourself in not needing a man to change your tires, wiper fluid, OR oil nowadays. But in the midst of your journey towards self love and independence, you somehow forgot that your car could also overheat.

"Oh..”

You try not to watch intently as Eddie cleans his hands off with his hanky, the one he keeps neatly tucked into the back pocket of his flattering dark, denim jeans. Your eyes then trail towards his leather jacket, which housed his broad shoulders and delicious waist so nicely, you would've thought it had been tailored just for him. And you could just about fall right into him when he angles his torso towards you, his sculpted jawline glistening in the moonlight — but nearly not as glistening as those gorgeous chocolate eyes, the ones he used to his advantage during your marriage to get you to forgive him for whatever mistake he seemed to make that week. Before you could fawn any further, Eddie snaps you back to reality.

"When was the last time you put some coolant in this thing?"

"Some what?"

"You keep Prestone at the house?" Eddie pesters. "Antifreeze? Peak?"

Cheeks reddening, you shake your head. "No.”

"You get this thing examined often?"

“Not unless you do it," is what you shamefully admit. “For the most part…”

Eddie's face scrunches out of frustration. He knew this would happen.

"God, I hate when you do shit like this," he snaps. "For all I know your engine light could've been on for weeks."

"But it wasn't." you mutter softly. You're already scared. This is the last thing you need.

"You know your car in particular needs to be serviced every half year?" Eddie mutters. "Oil changes, tire rotations. Your break pads have also seen better days. Which is concerning."

"Ok.”

"And how many times do I have to say you gotta pay attention to this fucking radiator?!" Eddie hisses, slapping at the hood again with his open palm. You shudder at the loud *THUNK* noise that echoes across the woods. "We wouldn't be out here in 3AM if you had just taken proactive measures.”

"Stop YELLING at me!" you whine, a piece of your inner child spewing outwards to combat Eddie's belligerent word vomit.

"I'm not yelling." Eddie firmly insists.

He turns his back to you and starts towards your car again.

"Yes, you are, you always do." you croak miserably, balling your fists up in frustration. “You always do Eddie, and I'm sick of it! You always want to be right, and you always kick me when I'm already down to-"

“Okay, okay, okay." Eddie hushes you. He runs a frantic hand through his hair. "Agh, fuck, okay — I’m sorry.”

He looks at you with guilty, glimmering eyes as you shift your body away from him. Guarded, tense. Closing up all access of you towards him because he lost those rights a long time ago. Muttering to himself now, Eddie scrapes at the pebbles beneath his feet, fiddling with the chain of his wallet before he dares to speak to you again.

"I just worry about you a lot."

You peer back over at him. "Deadass?"

He snorts. "Well yeah."

With your permission Eddie stalks closer to you.

"I don't want to wake up to a phone call talking about my wife's car bursting into flames — with her inside." He rolls his eyes. “All because she hasn't been maintaining her shit.”

"I have been," you fib just a bit, though most of it rings true. just forgot to iron out some little details."

Eddie relaxes his shoulders.

"I know," he surrenders. “I guess there's a part of me that secretly hopes you'll still need me somehow. Some way, or another."

"I'll always need your presence," you reassure him.

Your ex husband softens up. He always thought that during your separation you had found another Superman to save the day. Some other handsome devil to fix your car and maintain all the leaky faucets inside your once shared home. But as you've always insisted, nobody has your back like Eddie. Your very own George Reeves. At your disposal for you and you only.

He suddenly wraps his arms around you, and as you predicted you ease right into him, the comfort and familiarity of Eddie melting away any ounce of hostility you guys have ever harbored against each other. You both have your days, but the love you two have for each other has always remained the same. Just changed form, is all.

"I'm glad you're okay," is all he says.

'I'm glad you're here," you sniff. "Always playing hero, per usual..."

"Well for you, always."

He plants a gentle kiss on top of your forehead as you two sway around in unison. You hum to showcase your endearment.

And he'd do it again.

———

🏷️ tagging peeps who seemed interested in this lil universe 🫶🏼✨ thank you guys for reading :)

@highinmiamiii @potatobeans99 @mediocredreams @joshlmbrt @eddiesxangel @enam3l @mmunson86 @davidblowies-blog @thatissonnina @oskea93 @aurora-austen @lesservillain @madeofmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munsonssweets @nailbatanddungeon @swiss-mrs @winchester-angel @belokhvostikova @curlyjoequinn @strangereads @marrowfrog00 @shadyunknowncreation @tuolcaniacoc @catherinnn @prestinalove @pleuviors @cinemabean @calumfmu @littlexdeaths

[yuri-is-online]

oof that's a really good morally grey pwp idea... if darkwick tells mc her curse cannot be lifted but can be passed on to a child -> the new cure is for her to be impregnated by a ghoul (better chance of whatever makes them ghouls overpowering whatever makes mc cursed), give birth to that child and for darkwick to kill the newborn immediately... but to prevent any of the ghouls from forming a real attachment to the fetus and somehow busting into the delivery room to save it, they can't know who the father is -> cue a multichapter pwp fic (with the exception of rui)...

(sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, please delete if so!!)

( • ̀ω•́ )✧ fufuufufufu no I don't mind this, I lack the technical skills to write it but yes that's a really good pwp idea. Poor Rui this might be enough to make him actually lose it, can you imagine being someone whose main character trait is being a whore, but being denied your godgiven right join the school sanctioned gangbang? They're even encouraging you to hit it raw fuck this stupid baka life he's done. I also like how you excluded Rui but not Zenji because that would make it even worse... the ghost gets to hit it but he doesn't? ED GETS TO HIT IT BUT NOT HIM?!?!?!!!!

I was thinking about smut when I typed that of course but I didn't really spend a lot of time thinking about the plot because I was too busy inventing new ethical questions. Would Taiga want to eat the baby? It is technically part anomaly... he doesn't want to eat Ed or Lyca so I would guess not but still. What about guys like Romeo, Ritsu, or Jin? Would they even agree to participate in something like this given how important children are to rich fussy families would they see making one like this extra wrong? Or would the horny kick in and they not want to allow the chance for MC's baby to be anyone other than theirs? Oh and on Ritsu, I feel like he'd be making a bunch of weird legal arguments trying to justify wanting to get the mc pregnant. He's just repressed, the arguments don't matter, but would he then try to make a bunch of arguments to keep the baby alive? Is there a legal standard of personhood in Japan and do I even want to research that-

Speaking of personhood, Lyca, Ed, and Zenji. I feel like Lyca wouldn't be able to let go of the idea of MC as his mate and that child as his baby. He wants to live with humans and be human, part of that seems to be him wanting a real family so if he was the baby daddy this would just be extra cruel. His instinct and desire is to love and protect, and even if he didn't have that he knows what Darkwick is like. Danger or not he doesn't want them killing you or the baby. Ed probably just wouldn't see what the problem is. Yes, his baby is an abomination from hell part vampire part Kyklos (so little human he doesn't need to mention that). No, he will not be letting Darkwick kill them and yes he will know if the baby is his, he has a sixth sense for these sorts of things. Now now don't cry, he might be an old man but he's not above taking responsibility, Japan was getting boring anyway. He can drop you off in whatever hole he crawled out of to can rest and recover while he watches the baby and shows them man made horrors beyond their comprehension (conspiracy youtube videos). I brought up Zenji just because the image of MC wanting to get dicked down by a ghost and conducting a dark ritual to let him do it. Also idk Zenji feels like another extra tragic because he also is someone who values family so I don't think he would want to see his child die, but also if it could save MC he'd really want to try and help.

Yuri would be very smug about this being a solution, volunteer to help, realize that everyone thinks he wants to fuck the MC, and then pass out from screaming denial and the mental image of her bare neck. I feel like he'd be one of the "worse" choices in Darkwick's mind because he would probably want to keep the baby to experiment on, but be completely unable to see them as anything other than his child and devolve into the same desperate search to cure them as he was on with MC. And he expects child support! He will not be a single father, MC get back here and take some responsibility for your actions!!! Jiro also feels like someone who would volunteer not realizing the method he was volunteering for but unlike Yuri he just rolls with it. He's so unashamed of nudity, yours or his, and what is sex if not nudity with some extra steps-

(My mind more went towards artificial insemination, so Rui wouldn't be excluded from the pool and there was no chance for the ghouls to form an emotional connection to either the MC or their potential baby. Oh I also don't think Darkwick would tell MC or the dad that the kid is going to be killed. They would probably lie about it and act like the child would be fine, just maybe an anomaly they would need to keep an eye on. And then they lie to MC and say the baby was still born but they just keep them in a little padded room and experiment on them their whole life, which just starts the Kyklos cycle anew except this time the monster is sentient and out for blood with intent.)

[rainylana]

father’s day<3

requested by @vol2eddie

You laid on Eddie’s chest, legs between his with the glow of the tv on your face while you both laid on the couch. It was date night, however your boyfriend’s mood was sour. He was hiding it well, but you knew him better than most, and you knew something was bothering him. His smiles didn’t seem as genuine. The corners of his eyes didn’t crinkle with laughter. He was putting on a show and you didn’t know why.

He petted the back of your head, smoothing your hair while the other hand rested behind his head against the arm of the couch. Tonight’s movie was The Thing. So far you hated it. You were nervous to ask him what was wrong, not wanting to irritate him. It wasn’t too difficult to push his buttons, but you also were concerned.

Nestling your face in his chest, you forced a fake yawn for effect before asking your question. “Hey, Ed?”

He hummed, brushing your hair through his fingers.

You sat up on your elbow, careful not to crush him as you reached to grab the remote on the coffee table, pausing the movie.

“What’s the matter?” Eddie lifted his arm, his eyes growing heavy.

“Are you okay?” You sat on his thighs, pushing back your hair. “You’ve not seemed like yourself tonight.”

He looked confused. “Yeah? I’m good, why?” He asked almost sounding offended.

“Well, you,” You struggled to find words. “I don’t know, you’re just quiet. You sure you’re alright? Is there something bothering you?”

“No.” He dismissed quickly, sitting up and removing you off his legs. “I’m fine.” He got up quickly and went to kitchen. You watched him get a beer out of the fridge while you bit your nails. He closed the fridge door with force, throwing the tab of the beer into the sink.

You sighed heavily. “You don’t have to be rude.”

He gave you a quick glance, pausing his movements as he gulped. “Sorry.” He took a swig of his beer. “Just..I don’t know.” He rubbed his face with his hand, breathing heavily as he placed his beer down on the counter.

“Hey,” You frowned, making your way toward him. “Eddie, what’s wrong?” You grabbed his forearms, trying to see his face. “Tell me.”

He was visibly shaking within a matter of seconds, the curtain of his curls falling down to his chest. He uncovered his face and your heart sank when you saw his eyes shining.

“Baby,” You cupped his cheek. “What’s the matter? Please, Eddie tell me what’s wrong?”

His breathing was heavy and he hiccuped as a tear feel. “Tomorrows Father’s Day.”

Your face dropped. Of course. Oh, how could you have forgotten?

“Oh, sweetheart,” You frowned, standing tall to wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry.”

You could feel how tense his body was to keep from breaking down with you, yet you could feel his tears staining your shirt. “Fuck,” He whimpered. “I shouldn’t..”

“You cry all you want, Eddie.” You rubbed his back. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

You held him through his tears, his body eventually relaxing fully slack against you.

“A father isn’t just blood, Eddie,” You kissed his cheek, pulling away slightly to see his tear stricken face. “A father is a man who loves and takes care of you. Now, who does that sound like to you, huh?”

He licked his lips, sniffling as he looked at you through wet lashes. “Wayne.”

You smiled widely. “Yeah. Wayne. I’m gonna help you find a gift for him, okay? We’ll do it together.”

His eyes welled up again and he nodded, a shuttering breath being exhaled as he pulled you back in. “Love you.”

[withacapitalp]

What Happens Next?

Link to ao3 I'm....sorry (canon compliant!!)

“What do you think happens when we die?” Eddie asked. 

Steve furrowed his brow, keeping his eyes shut. He and Eddie were just sitting in the backyard enjoying a rare afternoon alone when the question floated through the air; it was tiny, but heavy, like a stone falling in a pond, ruining the serenity of the surface. 

“What do you mean?” Steve replied, a strange uneasy feeling beginning to creep up his spine, taking the soft summer moment and slowly poisoning it with fear, “Like do I think some big guy in robes with a white beard is waiting to bring me to heaven?

“Just in general,” Eddie shot back from somewhere above, that strange detached tone still marring his normally bright and emotionally charged voice. 

Steve wanted to open his eyes, wanted to gauge the look on his love’s face before he answered, but he found that he simply couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. It was like they were welded shut, some outside force keeping him blind to what was happening around him. 

“Steve,” Eddie pressed when Steve had finally taken just a shade too long mulling it all over. 

“Geez, Eds, I don’t know!” Steve snapped, trying to lift his arms to rub at his eyes, but finding that the same unknown force was holding his entire body stiff and rigid. It even felt like his jaw was stuck still, but he knew he could hear himself speaking, so that couldn’t be right, “Maybe it is some guy in robes with a beard, maybe it’s a lake of fire with a devil and pitchforks, fuck maybe it just nothing. Nothing at all. Would you please just drop this?!” 

He was trying to come across as bitchy, make Eddie tease him about acting like an ass over a dumb question so they could both just move past the weird and deeply unsettling conversation. 

Instead, it felt like the entire world shifted on its axis. Instead of sitting up with his back against a tree, Steve was lying flat in a sea of black, knowing that Eddie was close, but also knowing that he was as far as far could be. 

“Nothing, huh?” Eddie’s voice whispered from directly above Steve’s head. He didn’t just sound detached anymore. No, it was something worse than that, something Steve couldn’t put a word to, even though he instinctively knew it was sitting at the tip of his tongue.

He didn’t want to hear anymore. He wanted to be able to move. He wanted to be able to see Eddie, and to know he was okay, and to know he was alive-

Oh. 

Steve knew now what he actually wanted. 

He wanted to wake up. 

And as he opened his eyes, tears already marking the pillow under his head, it was like that detached (dead) voice was still whispering right in his ear. 

“You’re absolutely right,” 

[writingwitharlo]

Mystery

a/n: will admit i’m not in my peak era atm, whether in writing not mentally so please enjoy this tiny crumb i have provided (also tagging @nhasablogg for funsies)

(Stranger Things; Steve/Eddie)

983 words

Nothing in his life could have prepared Steve for the amount of discoveries he was still going to make, even after officially asking Eddie to be his boyfriend. Or did Eddie ask Steve? Neither of them could remember that well, and regardless, it didn’t matter. 

The only thing that did matter right in that moment, was that Steve was trying to get to sleep and Eddie had been hindering that very thing for almost the past two hours. 

“Eds?”

“Hm? Oh. I thought you were asleep.”

Steve let out a groan and propped himself onto his elbows so he could glare at the one sprawled out beside him. 

The Harringtons had left Hawkins on a ‘business trip’, which meant that Steve’s house was going to be empty for a few days. It also meant that any sleepovers were being moved from the Munson trailer and Eddie's cramped twin bed to Steve’s luxurious queen. 

Perhaps it was the fact that Steve’s mattress was softer and less lumpy, or this neighbourhood always fell eerily quiet at night, or the missing hum of a nearby fridge. Or that Steve didn’t allow Eddie to smoke in the house under any circumstances. Whatever it was, Eddie always had a hard time winding down. 

Once he was asleep, he slept like a baby. It was just getting him to be still enough to get to that point. 

“I would be asleep if you stopped moving every ten seconds.” Steve wanted to be annoyed but when he looked at Eddie, all of it melted away. Those dark deer eyes stared at him all innocently, headphones pushing back tousled hair and a collection of doodles filling some scrap paper. Clearly Eddie had been trying to occupy himself.

Steve shook his head with a defeated little sigh before dropping his head to Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re a menace. What’re we gonna do with you, hm?” Soft lips met warm skin just where the cut-off sleeve revealed Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Do with me? How about we start on the things you could do to me?” The smugness of his grin made it all the way to Eddie’s voice.

Steve laughed, shoulders shaking briefly as he lifted his head again. “Oh, yeah? Anything among that list that would tucker you out, perhaps? Cause that’s what we really need right now.” 

Eddie just smirked, propping a hand behind his head once he had set his headphones aside. “Oh, most certainly.”

There was an expectant pause. “Okay… You’re not gonna tell me then?” Steve’s eyebrows rose slowly.

“Hm, I don’t think I will. Have to keep the mystery alive somehow after all these years, don’t I, Stevie-boy?”

Steve rolled his eyes, mainly to distract from the way his cheeks heated up whenever Eddie called him anything but his name. “Always so dramatic,” he muttered mostly to himself, placing a couple precise pinches near the other’s hip. 

Immediately, Eddie’s arm shot down again with an audible gasp, hand catching Steve’s but it was too late. A full attack was already under way and nothing was going to stop it.

Steve ended up laughing along as Eddie writhed beneath him, and relished in the yelps and protests that came from vibrating digits between his ribs. “Was this anywhere on your list?” he asked, a playful glisten on his face. “Cause if not, it definitely should be.”

Eddie just let out a string of insults as a reply before being interrupted by his own shrieking laughter again. It wasn’t until a little later, a gentle claw fluttering over his belly and Steve’s face buried against his neck, that Eddie’s resolve seemed to run out.

The prickling of Steve’s light stubble against his sensitive neck had Eddie in a giggling fit, forcing him to breathe a little heavier. Until, out of nowhere, a desperate moan escaped. 

Steve froze and time stopped. As Steve slowly lifted his head, Eddie was staring quite forcibly up at the ceiling. His face was almost emitting light, it was burning so much and out of the corner of his eye, Eddie could see how Steve was tilting his head to the side in question.

“Please don’t tell me you heard that,” Eddie got out, voice barely over a whisper as he squeezed his eyes shut. Unfortunately that also meant he missed how the look of Steve’s face changed from one of delight to curiosity to pure mischief.

“Oh, but I did,” Steve replied in a low rumble. A smirk already tugged on the corner of his mouth when Eddie’s reaction was simply to whimper. “So, was it the neck or the belly?”

Eddie groaned loudly, slapping both hands over his face to hide the growing burn before giving a muffled reply.

“Huh? I didn’t quite catch that.” Steve’s fingers twitched ever so slightly, which had still been resting against Eddie’s stomach. Lightning fast, Eddie’s hands came crashing down to grip onto Steve’s. “Both! I said ‘both’, you dick!”

Steve laughed, a full toothy grin on his face. “That’s what I thought you said.” They grappled with each other’s hands for a bit until Steve put an end to it by pinning them above Eddie’s head. “Ready?”

There was something incredibly flustering about having Steve practically inches from his face, fully excited to explore this new facet of Eddie’s many quirks without any judgment or hesitation. 

After almost an hour of exploration, they’d discovered that it wasn’t only those two specific spots that could draw out such a reaction from Eddie. Also, Steve found himself getting almost equally as excited on his end. But most importantly, they were both tuckered out by the end of that hour.

As they curled into each other, both with still a hint of a smile on their faces and a glowing warmth coming from their chests, Steve had only one single thought: Turns out, Eddie was the mystery keeping them both alive. 

[brigdh]

for the WIP ask meme: would love a sneak peek of "Ed incompently comforting Stede"

The WIP meme!

Thank you!

I was having a discussion about how, too often, in fic Ed and Stede are both excellent at knowing the exactly correct therapy-speak thing to say to each other, whereas in canon they're more likely to fumble and misunderstand and get things wrong at first. And I really want more of the second version!

So I wrote a little thing where comfort is difficult but they get there in the end. The set-up is that Stede experienced some sort of sexual harassment from bullies as a child (I didn't bother to figure out the details, so it's all left vague), and has told Ed about it, but Ed didn't grasp how much it affected Stede at first, since Stede was doing his usual self-deprecating thing. I'll post the whole thing below, because this is one of my abandoned drawerfics; I didn't want to write out any of that setup or the climax afterwards, so the only part of the story that exists is the comfort itself. Also this is set in a vague post-S1 reconciliation period.

(Extremely minor noncon mentions)

Ed opens his eyes to darkness, at first not quite sure why he’s awake. After a moment, he hears it again – a soft, muffled sound, like a gasp or a sob. 

Ed sits up and peers over the back of the settee. It’s dark in the captain’s (captains’, now) cabin, but the bed is up against a pane of windows and he can make out the silhouette of Stede’s form, curled up into a small ball, shoulders shaking. 

Ed’s by the side of the bed in an instant. “Stede, mate,” he says in a whisper, “what’s the matter? Bad dream?”

“Oh, Ed! Nothing’s the matter, you don’t need to bother–"

“Yeah, I think I fucking do. You’re crying.”

“Nope, no. Me, crying? Nah. Probably an owl.”

Ed pauses, the covers held up to slide beneath and one leg already on the bed. “An owl.”

“Mm-hm!”

“Stede, we’re a hundred miles from land and you’re telling me I heard an owl.”

“Could be an albatross, then!”

Ed remains frozen in place long enough to hear what is definitely a sniffle, then stands up and slaps the covers back into place. “Sure, whatever. Just fucking lie right to my face, then, s’not like I fucking care." Technically Stede hasn’t, since he’s still curled up facing the windows, but Ed isn’t about to give him a pass for that reason.  

“Ed!” Stede sits up and twists around, but Ed is already stomping back to the settee. “It is nothing, really, I was just being foolish–"

Ed throws himself onto the settee, where at least the back is high enough that he doesn’t have to look at Stede, or watch Stede not looking at him. “Bet if I fetched the boy Stede would tell him,” he says entirely to himself in what is not a pointedly loud tone. “Bet he knows all the right fancy words to say because he’s not a stupid pirate.”

“Ed, please, don’t wake anyone else up. I’m fine. I’m sorry you had to hear me.”

“I bet you’d tell your fucking wife!”

There’s a silence in the cabin then, one that seems to ring with Ed’s shout. It’s broken only by a very quiet sniffle.

Shit. Shit. Ed’s heart sinks. Shit. That was definitely too far. He’s so bad at this. Very slowly, feeling like absolute trash, he raises his head and peeks over the top of the settee. Stede’s sitting on the edge of the bed, bare feet brushing the floor. He’s got a sheet drawn around him like an improvised robe, and he’s staring down at his lap.

“‘M sorry,” Ed whispers.

Stede simultaneously shrugs and nods, which seems like they cancel each other out, leaving Ed with no idea what it means. Stede scrubs at his face with one fist, draws a deep breath, then puts his shoulders back. “Yes, well, if it makes you feel better, I didn’t tell Mary, actually.” 

Ed swallows. That should be enough, should satisfy him, but he really wants to know. He’s greedy, when it comes to Stede. “Didn’t tell her what?”

Stede pulls the sheet tighter around his shoulders. “The, the thing. That happened. I did tell you. I haven’t been trying to keep secrets, Ed. Even though I know it shouldn’t matter so much, I know I’m being childish and foolish and weak-willed, but-"

“Stede. What thing? What are you talking about?” Ed pulls himself fully upright to lean over the back of the settee, but he doesn’t go back over to the bed, as much as his skin itches with wanting to touch Stede. He’s afraid closing the space between them will break the spell. 

Stede cringes, his shoulders going up and his face lowering even further down. “The sex thing,” he says, quietly enough that Ed can barely make out the words. “You know. When – when it was bad.” 

“That’s why you’re crying?”

Stede looks sharply to the side, chin up and held tight. “You don’t need to say anything about it. I’m already aware that I shouldn’t let it bother me.”

“Who says it shouldn’t bother you?” Ed lets his fingers dig into the upholstery of the settee and his voice go cool, ready to destroy whoever’s been upsetting Stede.  

Stede whips around to stare at him. “You did!”

“What?” Ed rears back in surprise. “No, I didn’t!”

“You said it happened all the time! You said it was common!”

“I meant you weren’t alone!” Ed draws in a shaky breath, trying to claim back control over himself. “Fuck, Stede, lots of fucked-up things happen all the time. Lots of common things are just – fucking terrible, mate.”

Stede is silent for a long moment. Ed wants him to say something, but at least he can make out enough of Stede’ silhouette to see it’s gone a bit softer, no longer looking like he’s so stiff that he might snap into two. Finally, Stede says quietly, “Well, I’m sure none of the others are still crying about a thing that happened over thirty years ago.”

Ed thinks about Jack, who used to have nightmares whenever he went to sleep sober. He never said what they were about, but he’d whimper behind clenched teeth and thrash hard enough to dump Ed out of their shared hammock, and one time when Ed sneaked up behind him, Jack had nearly gutted him before he realized who it was. He thinks about a whore he’d been fond of for a while, visiting her every time they stopped in Port Royal. Sometimes when Ed arrived, she’d have bruises. Not on her hips or thighs, which might just have been evidence of too good of a time – Ed’d had those sorts of bruises himself – but a black eye, or a split lip, or once a dark ring around her upper arm. He’d asked about that one, and she’d just shown him her teeth, more of a snarl than a smile. The nights she had bruises, he paid her just to let him sleep in her bed – which he did sometimes anyway – and left her extra coin in the morning and they didn’t talk about it. And then one time he went back and she was gone and no one would say where.

Ed thinks about how small the house he’d grown up in was, and the noises he’d hear at night sometimes from his parents’ bed. He hadn’t know what it meant, at the time, but looking back his mom’s smile on the mornings after now made him sick to his stomach.

“Maybe it’d have been better if they did cry,” Ed says. 

Stede just shakes his head.

“Look, man, aren’t we supposed to be doing this shit together, now?” Ed tries. 

“Important things,” Stede says. “Not my silly little problems.”

Ed gets up and moves partway to the bed. He’s wearing a nightshirt Stede gave him, which he’s got to admit is more comfortable for sleeping than his leathers, but there’s no pockets and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He wants to put them on Stede, but he thinks it’s not the right time for that, not yet, maybe not ever if he can’t figure out where Stede’s head is at. “You hold me, when I cry,” Ed says. “’S nice.” 

It’s more than nice; the last time Ed was sobbing and howling into Stede’s shoulder, it had felt like Stede’s grasp was the only thing keeping him breathing through it, like if Stede had let go Ed might have just been done for. It’s part of the reason Ed forgave him so quickly, far quicker than he’d meant to. But he was pretty sure if he’d had to cry alone one more time it might have literally killed him, and he wanted Stede to hold him so badly that he’d have done anything for it, and so in the end it was goodbye, Ed’s pride, hello, Stede’s arms. 

But he doesn’t need to say that. He’s already being enough of a clingy bastard tonight. “Okay, so, you don’t want me to hold you. Or talk about it. Great, got that. But don’t you – don’t you want anything from me, man?” Ed bites back a groan at himself; yeah, real well done with the not sounding needy. 

Stede looks up at him, and they’re at just enough of an angle to one another that his eyes catch a flash of moonlight and Ed can see them, wet and bright and dark, and it sends another jolt of longing through his chest.  “Ed, I just – I want to be enough for you. I want to be strong, to be a real partner for you.” His voice goes thin, unshed tears tightening his throat. “I’m so afraid that I can’t be what you want me to be.”

“Fuck, Stede.” Ed can’t hold back; he clambers onto the bed and grabs Stede’s face in both hands and kisses him all over it, peppering his forehead and cheeks and the damp corners of his eyes with short little pecks. “I love you so fucking much, you don’t even fucking know how much, it’s just ridiculous. I want all of you, okay? I want every fucking thing. I want the bad shit and the embarrassing shit and the shit that makes you burn up with shame. I want it.”

Stede huffs a shaky laugh and tucks his face into Ed’s neck. “I’m going to get snot on your nightshirt,” he warns.

“Love that. Fucking great, snot. Gimme all the snot you got, man, I want that too.” Ed digs his fingers into Stede’s hair and holds him tightly in place, feeling Stede’s hot wet breaths against his skin.  

It takes a while for Stede to cry, though he'd seemed close to tears a moment ago. Ed pulls him in and Stede lets him, even curls up a bit to lean against Ed's chest, but his body’s still tense, nowhere near pliant. They sit like that in silence for several minutes. 

The first sob is loud and harsh, sounds like it's ripped from Stede's throat, but right after he goes quiet again. It takes Ed a second to realize that he's working so hard to contain the tears that he's stopped breathing, every muscle on him gone rigid with the effort of keeping control. His lungs can't hold on for long, of course, and soon another rough sound escapes - more of a gasp than a sob, really - before Stede clamps down again. It goes on like that, individual sobs that fight their way out between taut silences. Ed presses his hand down on Stede's scalp and puts his other arm around his back, holding on as tightly as he can. He gets a leg up on the bed behind Stede, presses that into him too, folding as much of his body as he can manage around Stede's, wishing he could entirely envelop him, keep him safe and secret from the rest of the world.

Stede's staccato crying gradually gets the better of him, the gasps coming closer and closer together until they blend into steady weeping. Ed holds him through it, muttering shit that doesn’t mean much but that he hopes sounds good anyway – “I got you” and “let it out” and “you’re okay”. He clings hard to Stede like Ed’s the one on the verge of being swept away, though Stede doesn’t cling back; Stede keeps his hands to himself, one half-covering his own mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his sounds. Ed tries not to let that bother him. It helps that it’s his shirt collar that’s soaking up Stede’s tears, sticking against his skin as the cloth grows damp and then wet. 

***

[nerdygaymormon]

ED Therapy Session #2

I didn’t plan on making this entry, it didn’t seem like there was enough to share from the session. However with some time, I’ve changed my mind thanks to things which have happened since that session. 

—————————

First, I began by telling the therapist that after the last session, I immediately began binging in my car. But as I did so I recognized this is what I’m trying to stop. I continued to eat, but I was disgusted with myself and what I was doing. I ate some of everything, but wound up throwing away half of the food. She responded that this was a positive step, what a good start. Here I was confessing to an immediate failure and she reframed it as a success.

To help me understand binge eating disorder, she explained it’s similar to bulimia, except instead of binging and purging, I binge and don’t purge.

I was telling the psychologist about going to a baseball game with some new friends, and how I was pleased with how they were so nice to a fat guy. She stopped and asked if that’s how I see myself? I said that this is what I look like, it’s what people will see, of course they notice. Her response was “the first thing I noticed about you was your smile.” We then talked about not minimizing myself.

I don’t need to convince people I’m worthy to be included, they enjoy knowing me. People seek me out because I’m empathetic and understanding. I make an impact in my communities and the world around me, and minimizing myself will limit how impactful I can be.

My homework included several things: 1) I was to begin a Body Positivity class 2) Each day I’m to identify what is my biggest accomplishment 3) And I’m to be more open and share accomplishments AND hard things I deal with/have dealt with to the people in my life. 

—————————

I’ve been to a few body positivity classes. Honestly, they feel hokey to me. I can understand what is being taught but I don’t fully believe it in my heart. 

It’s a small group and they’re very supportive. At one point, the facilitator said to let’s go around and say something positive we did today. I commented, “My therapist would love you. This is the homework I’m supposed to be doing, but I keep forgetting to do.” 

Two of those in the class offered to support me by creating a group text and each day we would all three share our top accomplishment of the day. Honestly, that was a surprise and meant a lot to me. And they’ve kept their promise for this whole week.

Oh, I also had homework from the class, which is to write a short love letter to my body. I wound up writing not a love letter, but a short poem, and rather than love it’s more like acceptance. I am looking forward to sharing it with the class this week.

The scars, the stretch marks, my body has incurred, These are displays of all that my mind has served. No matter the shame nor how much I jeer, My body has faithfully carried me here. Mind and body, both have had to deal. Both are wounded, both will heal, One supporting the other, they are a pair. Both are deserving and worthy of self care.

—————————

Today I was at church, and someone with whom I shared that I have this challenge saw me and came over to ask how things are going with therapy. I gave a very brief update, including that I’ve started attending a body image class.

He said to remember that who I am is my spirit, and my spirit is mighty and powerful. My body and mind are part of me, but are fragile and weak in a way my spirit is not. I am beautiful. I am blessed. I am loved. Those things are not dependent on my body, they are inherent as a child of God.

I gave him a big hug as tear or two fell onto his shoulder.

[ahogedetective]

Ayumi sends a text with a Photo attached! It's Izuru on the hotel floor with a couple of tins full of tea and some small boxes of gifts dedicated to a certain detective. It seemed like he was rearranging his suitcase to accommodate these gifts...

[txt] Somebody went a lil too overboard with the souvenirs ! ;3c 💕

[txt] Izzy-senpai went a bit crazy at a luxury tea store for you! He somehow convinced those workers to get a freshly roasted batch! Crazy right!?

It seems like the rapper here was aware of their mutual pining. In true Ayumi fashion she wanted to know all 'the deets'. Well, and be a bit of a wingwoman to the two brooding emo kids she befriended, because look them... They need the help.

[txt] Oh! Don't worry, I got you a lil' something too! But I think Izzy here kinda one up-ed me in that department. 💦

@girlishwhiimsy ( oh u bet she knows about their stupid crushes on each other she can sense it from mILES away. )

@girlishwhiimsy !!!!

When he heard a text notification go off on his phone, Shuichi picks it up to see who it's from. Seeing that it was from Ayumi, a smile lights up on his face. "Ah, Ayumi-san! Oh, looks like she sent a photo, too." After reading the text, he looks at the photo in question. "Izuru-senpai... hehe, souvenirs, huh? Those look so nice..."

Then as he continues reading the rest of her texts, he sees that Izuru got some gifts and teas for him. Even going as far as to get them all freshly roasted for him.... "Ah..." Right now, he was glad she didn't video call or regularly call him, as she wouldn't be able to see the light blush that creeps onto his face, nor would be able to hear the fuzziness in his voice. Or how much his heart was fluttering in his chest right now... "Izuru-senpai... doing all that for me..."

Ayumi also getting something for him also meant a lot to him, and laughs when she jokes he "one up-ed" her. But of course, no matter the gift, Shuichi will love everything all the same. "Ayumi-san, too: I really do have the best kind of friends, ever." Not wanting to keep her waiting for a response too much longer, he finally texts back:

{Txt: Ayumi} Ayumi-san! Hey there, how's it going? I hope you two are having a great day so far! Ahaha, I totally get it, I would do the same. Those all look so nice!

{Txt: Ayumi} Ohhh! A luxury tea store, huh? For me? Even wanting to get them freshly roasted for me... hehe, he spoils me. Please tell him I said thank you, and I truly appreciate it! And that I say 'hi' as well: I can't wait to try the teas!

{Txt: Ayumi} Ohh come, now, don't be silly. I'm just as happy to know you have a gift for me, too. Thank you so much! You both are the best. I can't wait to see what you have for me, too: I know I'll love it!

Despite his smile, his face is even redder, since he's sure she knows his big crush on Izuru, and is indirectly teasing him about it... and the fact it's somehow not obvious or known to the boys, themselves, that the feeling is mutual...

{Txt: Ayumi} Now!

Fiercely pretending he doesn't notice her little teasing, he quickly adds:

{Txt: Ayumi} Anything else exciting happen today? Or is about to, soon? I'm happy to see you two having so much fun!

[wefaithfulfew]

ok this post may be lost to time because i cant FUCKING see the text im writing but okay look at me uhhh jrwi disabiliry / mental condition hcs because im normal. actually i should use colors to make sure i can see. itll also TRAP YOU into looking at my hcs

pd. uhhh ashe has POTS. ambulatory wheelchair user i think. will has EDS and spent a lot of time in deadwood fucking destroying her own bones and it is NOT kind to her after death. needs a damn cane. dakota is HOH and as we know like autistic+. and i think. weird thought. vyncent has synesthesia. yeah. it just feels right. also he has hypermobility in his hands. and theyre ALL autistic btw. will also had ocd adhd and bpd. i am liking plurality vynce hcs more and more as time goes on too. dakota has dyslexia and dyscalcula. i cant spell it. fuck me man. uhhh is that all i had to say. OH ashe has c-ptsd and bpd too </3

riptiiiide baby. uhhm. jay has scoliosis and has an extrenal spine prosthetic. its like stegosaurus scales but theyre gold and magicy. jay is Absolutely at LEAST hard of hearing bc she uses guns all day. jays also a little colorblind. and has dyslexia too. chip obviously has phantom pain from his pinky. chip cant recognize faces that well i forgot what its called but he does have that. hes also pretty nearsighted. chip needs a cane but never uses it SOMEONE get him some tension wraps please. compression is NEEDED on this boy. gill has several balance issues that didnt present when he was undersea because of the obvious differences in gravity. gill hs tics i think.. tourettes boy… clearly autism i mean look at him. but also bpd. he definitely has varying muscle spasms hes just ignored his whole fucking life too. and yeah theyre all autistic yada yada yada

blood in the bayouu baby. blood in the bayou more like what thE FUCK kian stone has very thin blood. and autism and adhd but the weed calms her. maybe did too i havent decided. rand absolutely has ocd do not even try me and add and autism sorry theyre all audhd maybe not rolan hes too weird. rolan has ocd too and keeps every thought in his head in his own brain no matter what it is . i dont know if thats a thing but it is in this case okay. kians like half blind at this point mostly because she looked at the sun as a kid but also because her genes decided to fuck round and find out. rolan has lowkey audio processing issues fr… i dont actually have too many hcs in terms of bitb bc its so little content :(( make me sad

hokay its apotheosis time now look me in the eyes look at me look at me did/osdd rumi. umm . also bpd. peter.. w crutches.. makes me happy. no idea if i can make a warforged have phantom pain but i feel like its only fair to m babygirl thanny. love him.. peters clearly autistic.. also he has aphantasia because i SAID SO!!! (i have that)

ok i think my rant is over. umm. i cant wait for vampires to come out i cant wait i cant wait!!!!

[villain-in-love]

your father's day post has me curious! does katarina like to do anything special with undertaker to celebrate father's day? do they like to visit somewhere together, or does she perhaps give him gifts instead? also does she have any silly nicknames for him, or does he have nicknames for her?

dad!undertaker is so funny and endearing to me, i can imagine him constantly cracking dad jokes at every opportunity he gets.

i would love to ask more about your black butler and twst s/is but don't want to flood your inbox XD but please feel free to share anymore facts about them here if you want, i'd love to hear them!!

Undertaker definitely cracks a lot of awful dad jokes, sometimes because he genuinely thinks that the jokes are funny, sometimes because seeing Katarina frustrated is funny.

Anyways, it made me research if Father’s Day was even a thing in Victorian England. Aaaand it wasn’t. This holiday was invented in 1909, which means that they most likely won’t celebrate Father’s Day.

By the way, I’m not sure if I can answer your questions in a way you probably expect – I’m one of the least sentimental people one could possibly meet, so nicknames and celebrations, doesn’t matter if it’s platonic or romantic, is something mostly foreign to me.

Undertaker and Katarina don’t “officially” consider themselves to be a family, even if they act like a father and his daughter, and mostly it’s just something they joke about often, seemingly not treating it seriously. Though gradually Undertaker starts to realize that he does care about Katarina as if she was his own child, he just doesn’t say it directly.

Katarina, on the other hand, internally decided that Undertaker will be her new dad right from the start but said nothing about it because she didn’t want to bother him even more, since she’s already lucky that he took responsibility for her at all.

(She got isekai-ed from our world, not because I actually think it’s a good way to start a story. I mean, it’s something I came up with when I was eleven, but for certain symbolic reasons that are very important to me, I decided to keep this part. Plus, it's precisely because she's from another world that she will develop some issues, and it's the thing that will lead to her eventually becoming the abomination currently known by the name “Death”.)

…

Though if Father’s Day did exist at that point in time, they would definitely pay some attention to it.

Katarina, throwing a funeral wreath at Undertaker: "Congratulations for adopting me."

Undertaker would also try to use Father’s Day as an excuse to throw some of his work at her to do instead (well, only if he’s sure that she can handle it) because heeey, it’s his holiday. Which means that his only daughter should appreciate him and at least try to do something nice once in a while.

I’m not the type to give nicknames, but you know, I remember when I watched "Katekyo Hitman Reborn" years ago, Fran would obnoxiously draw out vowels when calling Mukuro “teeeaacheeer”, and I imagine Katarina would often address Undertaker the same way. In the most annoying tone she can manage.

Whatever nicknames Undertaker tried to give Katarina at first did not stick, so apart from her name, sometimes he just address her as “kid”.

Well, she’s a “late teenager” going on “young adult”, but for someone as old Undertaker, he would obviously mostly see her as a kid. Especially since she has very little idea on how to function as an adult, so now Undertaker is kind of “fixing” the mistakes of her actual parents' and tries to push her towards independence more. He's not particularly protective (or doesn't allow himself to be) and implements casual approach: if she has to deal with some trouble, he will give advice, maybe provide a bit of help, but she has to figure out the most by herself.

I had an incorrect quote somewhwere...

"Katarina: Hey teeeacheeer...What would you do if I was kidnapped?

Undertaker: Oh, nothing. I'd just wait thirty minutes until they let you go voluntarily."

...but surely Undertaker is a fun dad. That's the entire thing, I always wanted a father who would understand me instead of judging me for every wrong move, and Undertaker seemed to be much more similar to me than my actual dads are. He's eccentric, morbid, understands the value of information and entertainment, and is also smart and capable of thinking deeply and broadly, even if he might be just a bit insane.

...

Well, that's a messy wall of text I got here, maybe it got a bit personal, but I don't really care at this point. I didn't think too much about what I'm writing for the sake of being able to answer while it's relevant.

[sillydreampuppy]

TW: sui, ED

Lately I feel like there is no outlet for all my shitty thoughts so I decided to dump them on here - please, don't read this if you know it can do you harm.

-

It all started the day my dad crashed his car, right, that's what I've been constantly thinking about these days. But I also keep getting other thoughts, that maybe it all started way earlier, when I wasn't born yet, that I was just meant to be like this from the start.

""""Your dad had PTSD, explains why you're not normal"""" says my brain, every now and then. And I don't know what to think about it. I am fed up with my life and how I feel every day. I am too much for everyone, because they can't take all the dirt and shit accumulated inside of me and I know it. So I just decided to not tell them anything. It always ends up being the same way anyway - they end up feeling suffocated by my problems and start resenting me. Well, I'll play my part, I no longer wish to "hurt" anyone. What can I do though, when this is just the real me? The real me is ugly, and the real me is toxicity. I am a big pile of dark matter that I no longer am able to see through. Not that I ever was.

Every day I try to stand up to the ED voice in my head (I'll call him Ed from now on) - I try and I try and I can eat but I still feel like I am just deluding myself that anything is changing. Ed is a fucking menace and he doesn't want to let me go, I am all he's got. He wants me to die. And sadly I also want me to die. But being in the same place with Ed is probably even worse than living every day wondering if I'll live in the end or not.

When I was 14, I became suicidal and depressed for the first time and that's when I also first lived through a year of derealization. Thing effed me up so bad I was scared of even thinking about it. Now I have been living in this dull, sad, liminal space full of headaches and tense muscles for about ??? how long? I don't remember. Lately I feel as if my brain is a soup.

I don't know if there is genuinely anything I want - all I've ever wanted are things I've been conditioned to want ever since I could comprehend human speech. I have no idea who I am or what I would genuinely want as there has never been a room for finding that out. Lately I also think maybe it's best to not fixate on anything, have no definite goals, as I don't know how long I'll live - maybe I will get over this and be able to have something other than a life that's just hanging on by a thread every day, but maybe I won't make it to 22 or to 23. I can't tell. The one thing I know is that if things really get very very bad and I feel like there is no way I can fix this anymore, I'll end my life.

I have this fantasy that if I die, I'll meet my dad again, after all those long years, and he'll probably tell me something along the lines of "what the heck did you do??" but at least we will be together in some place beyond human comprehension, at peace.

I desperately try to make myself better so I can live the life I'm supposed to, but I can't, due to how shitty I feel every day. Isn't this already a sign of failure?

There is still some time for me to wait and see if anything will change for the better - I am not *that* old, but this also won't last forever. You can't have the comfort of a big part of your life still remaining forever. One day I won't feel like I'm not *that* old. And then? Oh, I don't know. I'd rather not think about it.

[moonlit-imagines]

The Psychopath Sitting Next to You

Edward Nashton x reader

warnings: death/murder, violence, you know. all those crimes edward committed 😫

a/n: and the title IS a tøp reference. i also went a little bit overboard and detailed the aftermath…ah hah hah

prompt: @kpopgirlbtssvt: “Oooo hi! Can I please request a Dano!Edward/Riddler x reader (romantic) oneshot where they are dating and living together? Y/n is more on the innocent and naive side, so Y/n is completely oblivious to anything Ed is doing, just seeing him as the sweet/adorable man that Y/n fell in love with (he is in love with her too). Y/n is super afraid of the Riddler, not knowing it’s Ed. And Ed, being the best boyfriend he can be, comforts Y/n; promising he’ll protect them no matter what (again, knowing that he himself is the Riddler). I can just see the smile on his face as Y/n melts into his arms and loves knowing Y/n feels completely safe with him.”

You met Edward Nashton just a few years ago, a gentle soul he was. Reserved, quiet, kind, thoughtful, the perfect man for you. And when he finally opened up to you, that just made your relationship with him all the better.

His childhood story put a lot into perspective, but you never pitied him for it. He would’ve hated that.

His drive, that was another story. Eddie was passionate about this city, but you’d never heard him talk about it to anyone but you.

His work ethic, incredibly impressive. You knew he worked hard, and even then he still had time and energy for you. You weren’t a distraction like others might think, you were his inspiration.

His intelligence, completely baffling. It was like he was a computer, any question you asked would be answered in a moment’s time without a hint of judgement.

But lately you’d been spending less time with him, and although it did bother you some, you accepted it without much protest. According to him, there was a lot going on at work. He said they were understaffed, he was just trying to help out where he could so that they didn’t fall behind. A normal excuse you didn’t think twice about.

Every other idea that crossed your mind was easily waved away. Eddie wouldn’t cheat, he wasn’t that kind of guy. He’d expressed to you just how much he despised a lack of connection, a strong bond. Without that, everything else was meaningless. Was he pulling away from you? No, he was still trying to make it up to you every chance he could. You could keep trying to find an issue in it, but there was no point. He was perfect, just doing his part.

But then you started to get nervous being home alone so long. The state of Gotham was declining and on Halloween night, the night of Mayor Mitchell’s murder, you’d felt a sense of uneasiness that just wouldn’t go away. Eddie had been out late again, and you worried for his safety greatly.

Now each time you heard stirring outside your apartment door or voices shouting in the street you’d feel the need to hide.

“Y/N?” Eddie’s voice called inside and you unlocked the bathroom door, stepping out slowly to meet him with a hug. “Hey, hey, is everything okay?” He gently brought his arms around you as you buried your face in his chest.

“It is now,” you muffled and peaked past his arm, checking to make sure the door was locked, “yeah.”

“Okay, just checking.” He hadn’t even set down his bag or keys yet, he was just so worried for your sake. “It’s the strangest thing, my keys got stuck in the door again. It’s been a while since that happened.” Eddie explained the struggle outside, the thing that frightened you enough to lock yourself in a room without an alternative exit.

“Oh,” you chuckled, “that is strange. How’d you fix it last time?”

“I sprayed some WD-40 in the keyhole, easy fix.” Ed assured and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I was waiting for you to get home.” You admitted with your arms nervously crossed, still feeling that pit in your stomach from all the fears of Gotham you had—or maybe you were just hungry.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I was trying to get home sooner, they’ve just got me all tied up at work.” Eddie explained to you, walking over to your drawer of to-go menus you’ve accumulated over the years.

“No, it’s okay, I understand. I’m just glad you’re home now.” You sighed and started to shuffle through the menus with him. “Have something in mind?”

“You should pick, it’s really the bare minimum I can do.” Eddie gave you another kiss, now at the top of your head, and finally hung up his things on the hooks by the door. “Gotham sure has gotten crazier, don’t you think?” He started the conversation unprompted, curious as to what you may have to say. It’d been a few days since the mayor had been killed, and plenty more to discuss with the serial killer on the loose.

“It—Yeah, it has. It really has.” You nodded, picking out your menu that already had yours and Eddie’s usuals circled on it, each menu did. “It’s kind of scary, no? First a masked vigilante taking to the streets in the dead of night, now a masked serial killer broadcasting his message for everyone to see.”

“Some argue he’s cleaning up the city.” Edward answered, trying not to give too much away.

“Which one?” You asked in response, hand on the phone, but pausing to continue this conversation.

“Well, both of them, I suppose.” He replied, moseying over to grab both from your hands. “This city has always been ruled by the dirtiest of officials.”

“Are you saying it’s okay to murder them because they’re bad at their jobs?” You were confused by what he had been replying with, and he stopped in his tracks once that question came out. To you, he was just another citizen of Gotham trying to get by. He hadn’t let you know that he was the man behind the mask, that he’d been trying to help other ordinary Gothamites rise up and create a hospitable city in the years to come. No, that was a surprise. And a secret that would keep you safe, he believed.

“I’m just saying that what goes around comes around.” He examined your face, which was just slightly appalled by the comment. You weren’t exactly a person who condoned violence and until now, neither was Edward. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that these…these people who have wronged this city for so long, retribution for all the people they hurt isn’t surprising. I was one of those people they hurt, don’t you remember.” Your expression changed once he brought up his childhood.

“I…” You sighed, trying to come up with the words appropriate to combat that, “I know. I get that. I just wish that it didn’t have to be so violent, so graphic. It’s—well, no, it’s terrifying. Every time I switch on the TV or check my phone, there’s some new and more twisted development. I just want it to stop, I don’t like all this death and destruction.” You started to vent, started to let out the real reason you’ve been on edge all week. “First he goes after all those government officials, the ones that always have eyes on them. What happens if he gets bored and wants to harm others, people who are just minding their business. People like me?” That last comment broke him.

“No…No, no, you have nothing to be afraid of, y/n.” Edward placed his hands on your shoulders and looked deep into your eyes. “He’s not going to come after you, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“How could you possibly know that for sure?” You furrowed your brows, trying to fight his affirmations because you still weren’t quite convinced.

“Well, logically—” He was cut off by a little chuckle from you and joined in to lighten you up, “yes, I know. Logically, you’re nowhere in his path, you haven’t made this city a bad place, you’ve made it better. What a model citizen you are, you’re perfectly safe. And I’ll protect you no matter what happens.” You nodded at him, caving into his efforts to keep you grounded, sane, and let him order dinner.

And the rest of the night went quite smoothly, Edward answered the door when the food was delivered (for your sake), you picked a lighthearted movie, picked off of his plate, cuddled on the couch, every once in a while you tuned in to the pitter patter of the rain outside, and you weren’t scared anymore. You nodded off sometime, much later than you were used to, and woke up to the sun shining through the blinds. And Eddie was nowhere to be found. Only trace of him was a note on the door wishing you a good day, you’d been able to read his sloppy handwriting much better than others, their attempts almost futile.

Edward proved to you that night that life wasn’t so bad, that he was there for you, that you had nothing to fear.

Until he didn’t come home the next day. You told yourself not to fret, he’d come home sooner or later, but now he wasn’t answering any messages or calls and you’d started to fear the worst. You switched the TV on and checked the news, finding out that you were off on what the worst could be. Press crowded the diner on the corner, the one that you two ate at regularly, a place so special to you and there he was, hands cuffed behind his back with a smile on his face and the most ridiculous accusation at the bottom of the screen. The last puzzle piece as to why things had been so different lately.

You’d been sleeping next to a murderer, sitting next to a psychopath, eating meals with a maniac, kissing a stranger. Your entire life had been shattered and the pieces sat at your bare feet, you couldn’t move an inch. And now that you knew that a serial killer was off the streets, you could safely leave your home, so you put on shoes and a jacket, grabbed your keys, and rushed to GCPD, you didn’t know what for.

The place was filled to the brim with officers containing the threat and keeping the peace as more and more people showed up from all corners of Gotham to see the Riddler in the flesh, to either protest him or worship him. And there you were, in the thick of it. No way to get in and no willpower to push through the crowd. “Excuse me?” You tapped on a cop and he shook his head.

“Unless you have an emergency, you cannot get any closer to this building. Please step back.” He told you as you opened you phone and searched your camera roll for a picture, one worth a thousand words. And you showed him that picture of you and the man he’d met tonight. “Who are you?”

“His s/o.” You were ashamed to say it, but it was true at the moment. “I guess. I just—I saw the news. I have to see him. Search me, question me, do what you need. I just have to see him.” You explained and the officer nodded, grabbing your arm and tugging you through the barricade. Soon the sound of overlapping yelling faded from your mind and you were brought to a group of cops discussing the next move.

“Who’s this?” One asked, feeling he had no time for you.

“This, Detective Gordon, is Nashton’s s/o. To my understanding, they were completely unaware of his doings.” The officer explained as you stood there awkwardly, Gordon cocked a brow.

“That so?” He thought to himself a few seconds and nodded at the officer to have him let you go. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N L/N.” You answered his question and he waved for you to follow him, follow him right up to the interrogation room. Behind to two-way mirror he sat cuffed to the table, completely alone and terrifying. You’d seen him in a new light.

“Can you confirm the address he lives at?” Gordon requested from you, holding the two IDs belonging to Eddie in his hand, hiding it from your sight to check your facts.

“It’s, uh, 832 East 64th Street. Apartment 4.” You told him and he nodded again. “We live there together. He’s…he’s been coming home late, said work was understaffed.” Your monotone voice told a story, one of sorrow and stupidity. You continued to look through the glass. “He can’t see us, right?”

“That’s correct.” Gordon confirmed. “Why come here, Mx. l/n?”

“You’d be at my door soon, wouldn’t you?” You asked him and that was a good enough answer for him. “Other than that…I don’t know. I swear to you I didn’t know about this, either.”

“Does the name ‘Patrick Parker’ mean anything to you?” Gordon questioned you off-record and you shook your head, watching him pull out a fake ID with Eddie’s picture on it. He didn’t think you could look any more miserable than before.

“That address, did you check there yet?” You curiously asked him.

“I have a few men on their way. And the Batman.” He told you and your eyes went wide. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, I just remembered a conversation I had with him the other day. He wanted to hear my thoughts about the ‘vigilantes of Gotham,’ him being one of them.” You sat down in one of the chairs nearby, trying to look away from the man who’d just broke your heart.

“He considers himself a vigilante? That’s rich.” Gordon chuckled, then realized who he was talking to. “And what did you have to say?”

“I said it was terrifying that someone was going around taking lives. I told him I was terrified. For god’s sake, I was hiding in the bathroom at the slightest noise outside my door. I only felt safe when he was home, the irony makes me sick to my stomach.” You just kept spewing out your pent up emotions as calmly as you could, there was so much pressure on you at this very moment. “What’s gonna happen to him?”

“Well, he’s going to be put away a long time. Most likely Arkham State Hospital.” Gordon answered you honestly. You knew that meant they deemed him insane, which you were starting to believe. “Would you like to see him? I can get you five minutes in there with him.” You contemplated the idea, this would probably be the last time you’d be able to see him in person without a barrier between you. You nodded and he opened the door connecting the rooms, you slowly crept into the interrogation room.

“Hello, dear. I’m sorry you have to see me like this.” Eddie lifted his hands until the chains resisted against the table. “You know why I didn’t tell you, right?”

“Because you knew I would fear you, that I’d hate you.” The first part was true, the second stung.

“Oh, so you hate me now?” Edward frowned and you were completely shocked. How could anyone love a monster like this? How could he rationalize taking lives and still expect to be shown love. Even after you had opened up to him about how deeply you had feared this figure, the one who was hiding behind that mask.

“Did you think I’d excused murder if it was you who did it?” You stepped around the table and took a seat, immediately bouncing your leg while you spoke to him. “You’ve not only been lying to me, but you’ve been carrying out these horrific crimes. Torture, murder, terrorism—”

“Terrorism?! You think I’m a terrorist?” He snapped at you and you felt as if you were talking to a completely different person. “I worked hard to find the root of these problems and rip them right up. Sometimes it’s the only way to do it. You can’t show the teeniest bit of gratitude for that?”

“Not when I know what you’re capable of.” You felt like this conversation was going nowhere. He had no sympathy for what he’d done, not even for what he just put you through, not really. You stood from your seat and walked back to the door, which opened for you immediately.

“Don’t walk away from me, y/n! You’ll see the truth someday! You’ll see I was right and you’ll know exactly where to find me. I’ll be awaiting my apology! I love you!” Eddie yelled to you even after the door closed. You burst into tears the moment he could no longer see you, at a loss for words. A loss for direction, you were so confused. Your home was most likely a crime scene, too, so the comfort of your own bed would not find you tonight. Edward was still yelling inside the room, you’d begun to tune him out, sickening by the sound, and fell into your seat crying.

“He’ll be transferred to Arkham in the morning,” Gordon told you, patting your shoulder, “whatever you need, we’re good for it.”

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @wild-rose-35 // @alwaysananglophile // @ruvaakke // @more-multifandom-of-madness // @girlmythlegend // @shepsgotthoughts // @diansaprince // @v0idl1nq // @theseawakes // @sydknee624 // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @locke-writes //

[finniestoncrane]

Miss Crane, please can I request your Capullo Riddler asking the reader to do some penis worship to make up for his low self-esteem in that area as per False Pretences? Thank you very much in advance! 💕

Perfection

capullo!riddler x gn!reader, word count: 1.5k i literally cannot be mean to this man i am sorry i love him like i am aware of the requests who want him to get the shit kicked out of him but i am here to mollycoddle him to fuck lmao 💚 also this was longer than i intended it to be oops i just got super into it, so this is dedicated to my folks with 'short' dicks, i see you and i love you and your size doesn't matter because dick is dick and there can never be too much or too little of it, love from me (a dick loving whore) 💜 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: body worship, self-esteem issues, penis size discussion, oral sex, shy boys shy eddie shy shy shy <3

“Ok, ok! I’ll stop with the flirting.”

“It’s not flirting, Ed. It’s borderline harassment at this point.”

It was infuriating working alongside Edward Nygma. His lewd mouth, feral mind and wandering hands were the bane of your existence. Mostly because you would love to indulge yourself, let him do all the filthy things he suggested to you on a daily basis. But you were still trying, feeble as the attempt might be, to convince yourself that you could do better than this sleazebag.

“I’m just saying, I could show you a good time.” He leant in to you, fingers caressing your neck as he whispered into your ear, his lips ghosting over the skin. “If you would let me.”

And he’d pushed too far.

“Fine then. Do it.”

He laughed at you, narrowing his brows in confusion.

“Do what?”

“Show me a good time, Ed.”

A nervous laugh this time as he turned his head to the side slightly, scrutinising glare focused on you intently.

“What?”

“Show. Me. A good. Time.”

He held his chin in his hand, rubbing the stubble as he licked his lips, removing it to point a finger at you, accusing you of some kind of deception.

“This is a trick. Isn’t it?”

“It’s not.”

“No…it is. Because if I touch you first, you’re going to-”

You let your lips meet his in a wet and clumsy kiss, unable to even try and stop your hands from cupping his cheek and wrapping themselves in the hair at the back of his head. And he stood in shocked silence against you, completely still, and finally unsure of what to say or do. Pulling back, you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t just stand there, Ed. Touch me.”

“Um…ok…s-sure…”

As you locked your lips against his again, he finally reached a hand up, palm flat and firm against your waist, only loosening up when you moaned into his mouth, giving him the signal he was waiting on to start pawing at you, gripping your breasts and ass with all of the fervour of an un-practiced and unmoderated teenager.

“I mean…you can keep grabbing at me if you want, Ed, but you might want to start leading this to the next step…no?”

“What do you mean?”

He was panting against your neck.

“Ugh, come on, Ed.”

You pulled back, watching the confusion grow on his face, not so knowledgeable now it seemed. And he was no further clued in even when you fell to your knees and started gliding your palms up his thighs, fingers tugging his shirt from his pants, settling on his belt as you began to undo it. But then he jerked back.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, come on. Where’s this good time I was promised. I can hardly get to it if you won’t let me-”

“It’s not…don’t…I don’t…”

“What’s wrong, Ed? You were all talk before! And hands.”

He took a deep breath in, trying to laugh, an attempt at acting casual. But you could see the nerves behind his eyes.

“So I…ok…you’re gonna laugh!”

“Oh, I’m sure I will.”

You placed your hands on his thighs again, grabbing him and inching him closer to you. As he stared down into your eyes, he gulped hard.

“It’s just that I talk a big game but I…I…”

“Ed, I’m getting bored down here.”

“I’m not…I don’t think I’m…”

You dug your fingers in, irritated at his fumbling and stuttering.

“Fuck me, Ed. What is it!?”

He let everything out in a trailing sentence, held together by a single breath.

“I don’t think my dick is a very good size so if you would rather not touch me or not have me touch you that’s fine and I’m sorry for being so suggestive before and every other time like every second of every day but I overcompensate and I HEY-”

You pressed your palm against his crotch, stifling a moan as his stiffness twitched against your touch.

“Hey, come on, don’t…”

“If you don’t like it I’ll stop.”

“No! I do but I’m…nervous.”

“Ok, so I’ll stop then.”

“No please don’t.”

He grabbed your wrist, holding you to him, fearing you might stop touching him.

“I don’t want you to stop, but I just…”

He looked so vulnerable, so completely crushed and weak. Maybe everything about him made sense now. The bravado, the incessant need to be the best. All borne from his unfortunate existence in a hyper-machismo world that placed value on how you looked and what size you were in various different ways. You felt so sorry for him. It was a side of him you had never seen before. One so genuine and human.

“Show me.”

“I…really?”

“Of course.” You smiled up at him, beaming really, trying not to be too sultry, not too sympathetic. A nice balance of genuine interest and desire with a level of honesty that might make him feel more comfortable.

His nervous fingers fumbled with his belt and button, and he muttered under his breath, stumbling over the words.

“Would you like me to-”

“Yes, please.”

“Ok, here…let me.”

You took his hands and drew them away from his body, putting them to the side. With your hands pressed firmly to his stomach, you moved his shirt up, exposing his abdomen, trailing kisses and your tongue over his skin, your nose brushing past the tuft of red hair which snaked down from his navel to the band of his pants. As you kissed him, warm and tender, you unzipped his pants, tugging them and his underwear down, letting out a satisfied moan when you unsheathed him.

“Oh, Eddie. You’re really selling yourself short.”

“W-was that a joke?”

“Of course not! You’re being paranoid.”

You skimmed your finger tips up and down the length of his cock, licking your lips at the way it bobbed in response.

“Yeah, maybe. But you can see why.”

“I really can’t. This is absolutely fine. And it’s one of the nicer looking dicks I’ve seen.”

“Really?”

“Very pretty.” You winked at him. “It’s not too threatening either, the perfect size for just popping into your mouth.”

His voice broke as he choked out his words.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Can I?”

“You want…uh yeah sure…of course, please.”

With your lips open and pouting already you leaned your head in to take him in your mouth, letting your tongue lay flat and still as you placed his head between your jaws, feeling him in his entirety settled against your taste buds, salty, almost sweet though. He gasped, chest heaving as he tried to balance himself on his unsteady legs. You lapped at his head, tongue moving rapidly up and down his leaking slit as you savoured the tang of his precum, moaning onto him as he grunted in pleasure at the sensation. It felt good to make him feel this way. Enough that you could feel your own arousal growing, but the heat building in the pit of your stomach would have to wait because you were determined to make Edward Nygma cum hard, fully satisfied and feeling good about himself.

With your lips slick with saliva, you slid them up and down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks out as you let your hands caress his thighs, cupping his balls and gently squeezing them until he hissed in pain, learning his thresholds and what made him jut his hips into you, pleading silently for more.

He brushed the hair out of your face suddenly, a gesture so tender it threw you off pace, but he quickly got you back on track as he gripped the back of your head, pushing you down onto him, your nose meeting his abdomen, lips pressed against the base where his shaft met his body. But as you opened your mouth and relaxed your throat slightly in practiced anticipation, he tugged you off of him. You looked up, waiting to see what was the matter.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

There was no point in playing coy. You wanted to be open, honest.

“Because I could see how much you needed this.”

He scoffed, looking up at the ceiling with his lips pressed tightly together.

“And I don’t hate you, Eddie. You annoy me, sure. But you’re…annoyingly brilliant. And stupidly handsome. I just hate how you…behave.”

He looked down, smug grin forming at the corners of his mouth,

“And maybe now you can be a bit less…overtly sexual? Tone it down on the jokes and the bravado?”

“Are you kidding?”

He let his hand fall to your cheek, gently soothing over it before he gripped your chin and tilted your head up, thumb placed tentatively on your lower lip.

“Now I know how good you look with my cock in your mouth I’m only going to be worse.”

He smirked at you, rubbing his thumb over your lip, pressing his fingers into your cheeks in lieu of an affectionate embrace. You barely had time to roll your eyes at him before he was jutting his hips back into you, determined to make you finish what you started now that he had gained some of his confidence back.

[weird-is-life]

Kiss it better

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Sumarry: You patch up Eddie, after he gets beaten up

Warnings: language, mentions of blood, bruises and cuts, other than that fluff

Words: 0.6k Masterlist Not my gif

(English is not my first language, so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes)

You heard a knock on your window and froze for a second. You saw a very familiar figure standing there. It was normal for your boyfriend to sneak in through your window to your room, so you relaxed right away.

Eddie pulled himself inside your room, wincing quietly. It was so quiet, that you almost didn't hear it, but as i said, almost.

"Eds, what's wrong?" you looked at him, concern laced in your features.

That, was before you saw his face. His face was all bloody and bruised.

"What the hell happened?" you asked even more worried.

"I fell?" he joked.

"You fell?" you repeated after him, obviously you knew, he wasn't saying the truth.

"Yeah?" you knew he was incredible clumsy, but this definitely wasn't from a freaking fall.

"Eddie, who did this to you?" you sat him down on your bed and went to get a first aid kit,"who should i go punch in the head? "

"It doesn't matter, just let it go" he sighed.

"It does matter to me, please tell me, love " you placed the bandages and gauzes next to you and then dabbed at his cut lip.

"It was just some nobodies" he winced as you started cleaning his bloody cheek.

"Sorry" you apologised and continued to wipe the blood away, gentler this time. He had his eyes closed, because it was still painful for him.

"It was the basketball players, wasn't it?" it must have been them, they always bullied him.

He nodded.

"That's it. I've had enough of those assholes and there constant bullying," you got up and went to search for your bat.

"Y/N, don't go, they are not worth it" Eddie catched your arm.

"They deserve to get punched in their guts" you said angrily.

"They do, but please, just stay with me tonight ?" Eddie looked at you with pained eyes. Of course, you stayed.

"Okay. But next time, i will fuck them up" he chuckled at you.

"You are really cute, when you get angry" he pulled you towards him.

"Oh shut up and let me finish fixing your face" you removed yourself from his arms and took care of all of the other bruises and cuts.

By the time you finished patching him up, he was trying so hard to keep his eyes open.

"All done" you kissed his forehead.

"Thank you sweetheart" he pulled you in for a hug and yawned.

"Do you wanna go to sleep" you asked.

He shaked his head in no.

"I'm a little hungry" he looked at you with smile.

"Seriously? You are literally falling asleep here, sitting up and you want food?" you chuckled at him.

"Well, i wanted to get food before coming here, but ya know, i met those jerks, so I didn't get the chance" he confessed.

"I'm sorry. So what would you like? I can sneak in the kitchen and get you sandwiches, sounds good?" it was late at night and your parents were home, so there weren't so many options for him to choose from.

"Sounds great, thank you."

When you came back with the food, Eddie was laying on your bed and he put on some movie.

"What are we watching" you slid under the covers and snuggled against him.

"Dunno, i put on the first DVD, i saw" of course he did, it was Eddie.

"Does it hurt?" you asked after a while. He was almost done with his late night snack.

"A little, but it's all good, when i get to be next to you" he pulled you even closer to his body.

"I love you, Eds" you softly kissed his lips.

"Ouch" he flinched in pain. You forgot about his hurt lip.

"I'm so sorry, i forgot" you quickly pulled away.

"Don't be, i will survive a little pain, if it means i get to kiss you" and he did. He kissed you again with a smile.

"And I love you more, beautiful."

....

Thank you so much for reading. Hope this wasn't too bad. Feedback is always appreciated. Also if anybody is interested in being my beta reader for Stranger things fics, dm me please. Have a great day and stay safe everybody. Peace out ☀️

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Teacher's Pet

Aizawa's got eyes for his new teacher's assistant. Reader was is a former student of his.

tw: smut, noncon, drugging, yandere-ish, penetration

AN: My computer deleted the original version of this fic so I anger-rewrote it. Not edited.

You were always Aizawa's favorite. Never rude or lazy. And you always trusted his decisions. That's why - after a few years - when you decided to try your hand at teaching he volunteered to train you has his Teacher's Assistant. You looked the same, just a little more mature. You still looked at the man with the same doe eyed expression, waiting for his next direction. You were no longer his student and he didn't need to keep his mind from wandering.

Aizawa invited you over under the guise of grading papers. In attempt to make the task less boring, he poured two glasses of wine.

"Aizawa-sensei, how late is it?" You yawned.

Your mentor glanced at his phone, "You know you can call me Shota. It's only going to be 9, if you're tired we can finish this another day."

Nodding you attempted to stand, but plopped back down because the room began to spin. Maybe it was the alcohol mixing with your exhaustion but your body felt heavy and sluggish.

"I didn't realize you weren't much of a drinker," Aizawa laughed, extending his arm toward you. "Here, let me help you up."

You managed a few steps before taking a break to collect your bearings. On second thought, it couldn't be the wine, you only had a single glass. Then the room began to shift. Aizawa had picked you up. He was talking to you, something about being worried for your safety. You weren't fully listening, it was a pain just trying to concentrate.

When did you get on a bed?

You felt the mattress shift as Aizawa sat beside you. "I think you should just sleep it off here, I know you're pretty tough but right now you look like a confused little kitten."

Taking a deep breath you tried sitting up, "No, I shouldn't-"

The older man was on top of you. Tendrils of his hair reached down to graze your face. He smells so good, you couldn't put your finger on it but he smelled like comfort.

You snapped out of your trance when you felt a tug at your waist. Aizawa, your mentor, was pulled off your pants. When had he removed your shirt?

"Sensei, stop-"

Aizawa smashed his lips against yours. He had one had tangled in your hair to keep you from squirming away from his attack. "Are you gonna be a good girl and open your mouth for me?"

Heat was coursing throughout your body. You were embarrassed, upset, scared, but also curious. Of course your body was feeling good, but this wasn't what you wanted. You shook your head before he caught your lips again. You kept them firmly pressed together, denying his tongue entrance. But then dug his nails into your soft hips so hard that you had to cry out in pain. After exploring with his tongue he pulled away from you.

"See, that's not so hard."

To make everything worse, he had skillfully removed your bra while you were distracted.

He licked his lip as you took in your body, the only thing left was your underwear. Kneeling on the bed, between your spread legs, he place a hand under either knee. With a quick pull he dragged you toward him. Your ass was elevated, resting on the top of his thighs; gravity making your breasts perkier than they already were. If he had drugged you it must've fully kicked in because no matter how hard you will your arms, they wouldn't move.

His knuckles grazed between your thighs making tears escape your eyes.

"Oh kitty, you've soaked through your panties," he pressed a little harder against the material. "You always caught the eyes of so many of the boys. I wondered if you knew. If you acted naive around them as a way to tease. How many of them succeeded?"

You didn't respond.

Hooking a finger under you panties he moved them to the side, exposing your glistening pussy. Whimpering you begged him once more to stop. Maybe if you told him you were too tired he'd leave you alone.

"I know honey, once we're done it'll be bedtime. If you avoid my questions we're gonna have to stay up later. Tell me how many boys you let crawl between your legs. What'd they do that made you feel good?"

All the while his hand never stopped rubbing against you.

Your words came out choppy, between tearful gasps, "Please, Aizawa sensei, I don't want to. I promise, I never-"

A shiver racked your body when he began rubbing circles around your clit. You jerked away from him. You think you were strong enough to pull away but maybe he just wanted an excuse to reposition you. He leaned forward, giving your body a break and smiled against your neck, "Is my kitty a virgin?"

Humiliated you nodded your head. You never really stopped to think about your lack of a sex life, none of your peers ever caught you attention in that way. You just wanted to become a pro and prove yourself to your role model, the man on top of you.

"How perfect are you," he cooed. He moved to sucking an nipping at your breasts, leaving a trail of marks from your neck like a map. "How about we go slowly. I know they taught sex ed but real life is always different from a text book. Let me know if you have any questions, you know I'm a good teacher."

A calloused finger slid inside you. You focused on your breathing, everything was okay. It was uncomfortable but not unbearable. He moved his finger slowly, taking in how tight your felt. He didn't want your first time to be unnecessarily painful. You were mortified when he removed his finger from you and brought it to his lips. He groaned as his licked two fingers.

"You're doing so good, baby. Can you take a big breath for me?" Two fingers slid inside you, there wasn't much resistance but you felt the pressure change. You couldn't help with whine. "That's my good girl. We're gonna do three now, okay?"

Fuck. Three was too much. You felt like you couldn't take any more. Then, with his fingers still inside of you be began playing with your clit again. Your body tensed as electricity coursed from your core. The moan that poured from your lips was involuntary. More juices pooled beneath you. You kept shaking while Aizawa withdrew from you.

"Such a messy girl," he kissed you. "That's exactly what we want."

Becoming acutely aware that his erect cock was resting below your belly you looked for the first time. You weren't sure what to expect when it came to the size of any dick but certainly not what was before you.

"Wait, can we stop," you found your voice. "It's too big, I don't think I can do it."

"Trust me, it'll fit. It may be a little painful at the beginning because it's your first time but then it'll feel good. Just like how I made you feel good with my hands."

The anticipation was killing him. Aizawa was trying to keep your attention by praising you while he teased around your soaking entrance with the head of his cock.

You hissed, pushing weakly against Aizawa's chest, as he entered you. He moved slowly, frustratingly slow. He wanted nothing more that to push in to you, to make you hurt in the best way. Your walls felt so tight and warm against him that if he was a less experienced man would've already finished him.

Finally at his base you earned more praise, "Fuck, kitten, you're taking me so well. Already making me feel so good and it's only your first time. I'm gonna try to go slow but - fuck - tell me if it starts getting to rough."

After a few moments you began to acclimate and the pain eased up. But every time his hips fully met against you you were reminded his girth. You involuntarily jerked against him as that feeling of electricity began to manifest in your core. He was beginning to pick up the pace and couldn't keep from arching against him. Sparks shot through your body as he bit into your shoulder. Your walls spasmed around him. You could hear him praising you as almost completely pulled out just to thrust back into you. Repeating the motion and filling the near silence with the sound of your wetness.

Maybe something in your broke or maybe it was a defense mechanism but your started to rationalize the situation. You body did feel physically good. And lord know's you always had a thing for the hero. This would be perfect if he had gone about things the right way. You wanted some sense of control so you did the only thing you could think of.

"Sh-Shota," You moaned into his ear. Your nails digging in to his back.

"Fuck, say it again," he growled. No longer able to control his pace he moved harder and faster. Tomorrow there would be plenty of proof on your body that Aizawa had been there. "Be my good girl and say it again."

You weren't going to, but you were speaking before you realized, "Shota, I can't-"

If he kept going like this you knew hit your third orgasm of the night. You didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

"You're going to. Show me that you can be a good little whore and listen to teacher."

As if on cue you were seeing stars. Aizawa moaned into you neck and buried his cock deep inside of you. There was a new sensation and your realized that he wasn't wearing protection. His hot cum was filling you to the brim. "Wait, I'm not on the pill"

After a few more pumps he froze inside of you, "That's so fucking hot."

He pulled out and a mixture of both your fluids followed. He rolled to the side of you and brought you close to his chest.

"I'm so proud of you, you were such a good girl."

You interrupted, maybe he hadn't heard you, "I'm, I'm not on the pill."

"That's okay, I wouldn't want you to be, you're all mine. You need to sleep, we can take a bath in the morning."

You were tired, even though it felt like your mind was beginning to clear. Like a cornered animal you felt trapped. Aizawa kept whispering as you closed your eyes. He mentioned something about next time feeling better for you. That he was going to take such good care of you. How he didn't share.