#hitting post then leaving immediately

[tzuyubit]

time

ch. 1

note: i just wanna say this is a complete rewrite of an old fic of mine from 2020. it may or may not be bad, idk. this is rewritten, but not edited so there’s probably some mistakes. also, this rewrite is inspired by adele’s i drink wine :3

warnings: talk of domestic abuse (don’t worry, tzuyu doesn’t get hurt) and alcoholism. this is kind of just an intro chapter. i hope this isn’t as awful as i think it is fr.

[non idol au]

meeting tzuyu changed everything for you. she was always kind, never quick to lose her temper or scream and yell at you for things you couldn't possibly control.

patient. god was she patient.

she was tender, warm and inviting (only cause you managed to get so close to her). your relationship with her was very new, much different compared to your past experiences.

this profound sense of uncertainty caused you to question everything she did.

of course you appreciated her and all the things she did for you, but you were still waiting for her to snap. you needed her to get mad at you so bad sometimes that you would push her buttons every way you could think possible. the formality of not being kicked, slapped, pushed, or verbally abused in a relationship wasn't something you were used to.

for about a month and a half now you’d been coming home extremely late and so drunk you could barely make it to the door. more than half the time you'd greet tzuyu with bloody knuckles, a couple of dislocated fingers, or a black eye and a bruised cheek. the fights were completely unnecessary, but they were all a consequence of your drunken stupor. but once you were out of it enough, you lost all contact with fear.

with this becoming a frequent occurrence, you figured tzuyu would be angry with you. you thought for sure she would, at the very least, raise her voice, maybe even her hand. but each and every time you came home, she welcomed you with worried eyes and bandages at her side.

what you didn't know or care to realize, was that being so worried for you all the time, every second of everyday, eventually began to take a toll on her.

she only wanted to fix you, but you were making it more than difficult to do that.

it didn't help that tzuyu knew very little about your past. any attempt at holding a conversation about it was usually cut short and she knew not to push anymore.

but she was curious, there was no denying that. more than anything tzuyu wanted to know you.

it was only for your own protection that you didn’t speak about what happened to you. too many of your exes had used parts of your past as a way to manipulate or gaslight you.

occasionally –and to be fair– you spoke to tzuyu about a few brighter aspects of your life. there weren't many and sometimes you had to make them up, but tzuyu savored what you managed to speak on.

and despite her limited knowledge, she knew you’d been hurt – many, many times it seemed.

tzuyu wasn't stupid. she picked up on the subtle flinches, all the times you asked her if it was okay that you did something, and the countless times you berated yourself over small mistakes. each instance broke tzuyu a little more, so she always did her best to make you feel safe and cared for.

not once did she hit you or raise her voice, even when she was most upset.

the past couple of weeks things seemed to have escalated. rather than a busted lip or a bloody nose, you came home with small gashes on your face and hands.

tzuyu often wondered if it would be better to take you to a hospital. she didn’t know how to do stitches after all. there was no use in asking though, you’d only refuse.

somewhere between helping you and trying to live a life of her own, tzuyu began to crumble. she hardly spoke a word to her friends about what was happening. they were very protective of her and she didn’t want them to think the worst of you. not all of them were as quick to be so understanding.

so tzuyu slipped into isolation, confiding in your shared room whenever you were out. her phone was dead half the time, texts and calls were left undelivered. with her friends so far away, who could really be there anyway?

she managed, at least that's what she told herself.

beneath tzuyu’s eyes contradicted her own denial. a dusted shade of purple brushed over her skin.

exhausted. tzuyu was very exhausted.

her nails had become brittle and her pants fit loosely around the waist. to already be thin and lose more should be concerning, but that didn’t matter at the moment.

you were almost never sober. at this point you were sure if it was because of everything you hadn’t dealt with, or if it was easier to numb out how horrible you’d been to the one good person in your life.

tzuyu loved you so much, but accepting that wasn’t something you were ready for.

this relationship had to be too good to be true, right?

and still once more, you found yourself sitting at another bar a few blocks from home.

four vodka tonics and two shots of mezcal in and it was getting hard to keep your eyes open. tonight's bartender wasn’t one to care how much people drink. as long as the money was there, so was the alcohol.

deep down you thought there might be a little spot in hell for people like that. to clearly see someone with a problem and continue to enable them? it left a sour taste in your mouth.

no conversation was made between each transaction, only the sound of the bump of glass hitting firm wood.

another hour flew by and soon enough you were in the back of a cab on the way home.

sighing, you took a glance at your phone. the time read 3:52 and your notifications weren’t as clogged as they usually were.

you frowned.

tzuyu would normally text you a few dozen times. tonight she did not.

maybe she was too upset with you? this would be the night, you reasoned. tzuyu had to be angry enough this time. so you prepared yourself as best you could in the meantime.

the cab came to a halt ten minutes later. you stumbled out, nearly tripping on your own two feet as you walked the path to the front door.

you didn’t open it right away, not when you knew what was coming. another night of guilt for causing tzuyu so much worry. so you stood, fingers tracing the ridges of the metal keys as you bargained with time.

but it was cold and your body was beginning to tremble. tonight felt different for some reason – tonight you wanted your girlfriend's arms wrapped around you.

tzuyu was secure. you were just beginning to realize this, albeit uncomfortable to admit, but it was only true.

unlocking the door you were met with a familiar sight. tzuyu sat on the couch, hair disheveled and a blanket wrapped around her body. beside her were half used rolls of gauze, medical tape and a few bandages. she was surprised to see that there was no use for them tonight.

“hi,” you muttered softly, finding your way next to her. when no reply was given you turned to look at the taller woman.

“tzuyu?”

you noticed her eyes were glossy from crying. before you could comment, the sound of her voice filled the silence.

“i don’t want this anymore.”

your heart dropped.

“what?”

another beat of silence.

“tzuyu, what do you mean by that?”

she shook her head. “i don’t want to do this anymore, i can’t. it’s too much, you’re too much.” her voice cracked. “your things are packed, you can leave in the morning. jihyo will be here around 11, so you should be out before then.”

“but-”

tzuyu waved you off, “i’ve loved you all i can. i won’t continue to cause myself pain.” she sniffled.

“you sleep on the couch tonight. please don’t need anything, i don't want to take care of you one last time.”

without another word tzuyu got up and left, leaving you alone for the first time.

you only realized now that even though tzuyu finally had enough, she wasn’t even angry – just hurt.

you were chasing after something that wasn’t, and never will be there. tzuyu would never be like any of your exes, tonight proved that.

all you had now was yourself, and you were the only one to blame.

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

god tornado warnings r so fucking scary dude sending u strength + hope its all good!! also sending hank and marcie images for moral support they look like if someone animated little stuffed dogs to life <333

woag I actually ALSO have new friend dogy pics to share!!!

this is Sadie :]

thank uuuuu i drove an hour out of my way to swing by my apartment and make sure everything was alright (it was! all good just a few trees down) so i am feeling. MARGINALLY better than i was when I left work lmao.

[piningpercussionist]

One day you will feel remorse. One day you will regret the notion of willingly purchasing an object containing sentience, and afterwards doing nothing but brutalize it with sticks.

-the kit[kimpinesdrumset]

@kimpinesdrumset (ooc: for easily running over to the blog 👍)

[deadqueernoldor]

Nghhh chewing on finweans and realizing how self-sacraficial is so deeply instilled in that family, and that that particular trait is prevalent in each generation.

Finwe knew he couldnt win against Morgoth, but he could try and protect his grandchildren. He fought regardless.

Fingolfin knew he couldnt twin against Morgoth in 1-on-1. He fought regardless.

Finrod knew he would die on his quest for Beren, and still fought the wolf to save his friend. He did.

Celebrimbor knew he could protect others by dying, protecting the knowledge about the rings. He did.

It stands to reason that Elladan, Elrohir or Arwen, would have come upon a similar fate.

[pandaspwnz]

I got covid for the second time probably on sunday though it wasn’t confirmed until monday, but since then certain things have tasted differently, though I'm hoping it's just the head-cold symptoms that are messing with my sinuses that's doing it, and that it will go back to normal after the cold symptoms pass. But so far it's only very few things that taste different and I'm so glad I haven't completely lost my sense of taste or anything x.x

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[prozac-shaped-urn]

In a dep ep for a couple days now. Every time I slide into depression I’m reminded of why I need to be on SSI for disability. It frustrates me to no end that I cannot do normal things. I just wanna be normal. I wanna function normally. My brain doesn’t do that. And I’m limited. I hate it.

I mean thankfully there is a program here that allows severely disabled people like myself to receive medical care and financial assistance … because I can’t work … because I’m unreliable … because my brain is broken.

I’m frustrated, but I don’t know what to do other than what I’m already doing.

Fic writing might be delayed depending on how long this whole “I can’t process words properly so I type the wrong thing and don’t realize it and my brain is slow af so it doesn’t catch the error” bullshit lasts. But, it’s for me anyway; who cares.

Going back to sleep since I have no energy.

[dontcallmeeds]

Whoops

[antihibikase-archive]

When Hilbert was battling N and Ghetsis, Grimsley watched with his brother in his arms; he didn't know what just happened, and Bianca and Hilda were rightfully too shaken to answer any of Shauntal's inqueries.

He only finds out later, when the gym leaders get information out of the grunts they captured, when Nikolai arrives at the scene and gives him the gist of what has happened- and he doesn't understand.

A sacrifice, a missing half of a heart, fate and roles- he didn't get any of it at all.

All he knew was that he had to be better; working hard wouldn't give his brother a good life, and working hard now wouldn't get the other half of his heart back.

Two years later, when the battle between Nate and Ghetsis at Giant Chasm dies down, he and Shauntal arrive at the scene, only to see his brother dead on a pedestal of stone, covered in frost.

[risingsunresistance]

i am so hostile when posts of mine circulate, i hate when ppl immediately follow me when they see it. shoo go away i KNOW you dont wanna be here

[analyticallymindedaa]

it's 1am and i desperately need to go to sleep bc i have work in the morning however i keep thinking abt how i Love when jemma gets to patch people up and look after them bc that's just Who She Is

but also god do i love when the turntables and she's the one who's injured and she actually has to depend on someone/ask for help

[thepixelelf]

Oh tumblr did that thing again where it makes my post twice

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[ciboriaadastra]

Eventually I'll get to reading all the comics Duke appears in solely to be more justifiably irritated at [nonblack] folks who keep calling him "insane" and "crazy" for choosing to be a vigilante hero in a world with entire networks of vigilante heroes that take in and train protégés who also choose the life of crimefighting. Maybe I'm just missing some context that I'm not getting from all these posts with snippets of "examples" from the comics of said "insane" and "crazy" behavior...but nothing I've seen so far of his behavior is particularly bizarre nor an unreasonable series of decisions.

Also it's Gotham; if you're expecting people in a literal cursed city that gets gassed with various toxins constantly and has one of the worst police departments in-universe to not have eventually developed programs to teach their youth survival and self-defense skilks to increase their likelihood of surviving frequent supervillain crime, producing kids like Duke who have ideas of what they need to do when they organize and take matters into their own hands just like the child vigilante hero(es) they modeled their movement after...what is the thought process?

[chelseeebe]

truth or dare

18+. mdni. smuuuut. yeah man it’s really just smut. eddie munson x female reader.

a/n: not sure if i really like this but i wanted to post something while i work on this other long ass thing that may never see the light of day el oh el a continuation to gimme a hand and bump n’ grind or can absolutely be read on it’s own!

steve and robin had made the right call, leaving a few hours ago before the storm really hit.

eddie’d stupidly offered another joint, not wanting to let you go so soon. optimistic that maybe something would happen after those two had cleared off.

you’d been darting around it all evening, watching the movie with your hand under the blanket, stroking his thigh. inadvertently, or perhaps purposefully, making his cock shift with every length of your hand.

you peer out of the window, clicking your tongue against the back of your teeth, “i don’t think i can drive,” turning back to face him, “it’s really comin’ down out there,” a hint of satisfaction in your voice.

“i’m sure wayne won’t mind if you crash here,” shrugging softly.

you used to stay around a lot when you were slightly younger, back when touch was innocent and there weren’t all these complicated layers to your relationship.

“can you handle that?”

his eyes roll back, “shut up,” sitting back in his spot on the couch. anticipating spending the night here rather than in his bed, desperate to prove that he could handle it.

“whatcha wanna do?” you sing, pursing your lips.

“i dunno,” he shrugs, “we could watch another movie?” knowing that ultimately, another movie would lead to you touching his thigh until he came or something.

“that’s boring,” scowling at his suggestion, “i mean.. we are stuck in here,” biting on your bottom lip, “let’s play a game,” you propose, cocking your head, “truth or dare.”

eddie groans, an unwilling participant in your silly little games.

“come on,” offering zero incentive for him to play, “it’ll be fun,” taking another swig of the surely luke-warm beer. “truth or dare?”

there is not a single bone in his body that wants to play with you. no doubt you’d have him confessing to something embarrassing or doing something dangerous or stupid.

“dare,” he says flatly, hoping you’ll dare him to jump out of the window or something.

“i dare you..” you ponder for only a second, “to take your shirt off.”

“wh-,” he starts, mouth falling open, “well i dare you to take your shirt off.”

“it’s not my turn, idiot,” pursing your lips, “off.. now.”

pouting your lips, watching carefully as he lifts his shirt off, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“alright,” honing in on this stupid game, “truth or dare?”

“dare.”

eddie’s eyes light up, “take your shirt off,” immediately getting his own back.

“you’re supposed to say i dare you before your dare,” tutting at his impatience, though you do as he says.

lifting your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy bra you had most definitely chosen on purpose. maybe this was your plan all along, waiting to get him alone to inflict your cruel wrath upon him.

he ogles just enough to not have you mention anything, diverting his attention back to whatever drivel was on the tv. desperate to just get over this dancing around each other and get to the inevitable.

“truth or dare?” you ask again, poking his leg with your foot.

“do we have to play?” eddie whines.

“yes.”

“okay truth,” he spits, leaning back against the cushions.

“why didn’t it work out with you and chrissy?”

he groans again, already sick of this, “we wanted different things,” different things being you, he means.

“like what? i thought you were testing the waters or whatever?” mocking him with his own words.

“you. you jerked me off and ruined my life forever, is that what you wanted me to say?”

you ponder in silence for a moment before that god awful smirk creeps onto your face, “actually yes, that’s exactly what i wanted you to say,” crossing your legs, all self-righteous and smug.

it’s not like you didn’t already know this, it was fairly obviously to anyone with eyes and two brain cells to rub together.

“your turn,” smiling pointedly at you, “truth or dare?”

you hum, contemplating your options, whatever you picked, he was surely going to make it worth his while.

“dare.”

“alright,” eddie sits up straight, poking his tongue into his cheek, “i dare you to run around outside in your underwear,” if you wanted to play stupid games, you could win stupid prizes too.

your smile grows, taking over your entire face, “fine,” standing from your spot on the floor, shimmying out of your jeans right in front of him.

he jumps up, rushing to the door as you bound outside, filling the silent trailer park with your squeals and squeaks.

eddie watches in quiet amazement, more focused on the way your tits move with every bound, your lacy panties framing your jiggling ass perfectly. he’s close to drooling, turning into a slobbering mess at the sight of you literally frolicking in your panties. he was a pathetic man, and he knew it.

you turn, running full speed back into the door, teeth chattering and your hands trembling from the cold. barrelling straight past him, back into the warmth, lashes coated in tiny, intricate snowflakes.

“fuck!” you screech, “you asshole,” picking up his discarded shirt to slip on instead of your own. he wishes you hadn’t. seeing you half naked in his shirt was far worse than seeing you actually naked.

eddie snickers, closing the door all the while trying to keep his composure.

a smirk erupts onto your face, something ticking away in your brain before you stomp over, grabbing his cheeks with your ice cold hands, grinning with pure self satisfaction.

he hollers, grabbing your wrists in defence. it becomes a flailing sort of dance, with you trying to keep your cold hands on his face and him fighting to get you away. a mixture of expletives fill the trailer, screeching over one another as you move around the room.

you trip over one of the discarded bottles on the floor, sending you flying back onto the couch, still breathlessly cursing him out.

eddie takes the only logical step, pouncing on top of your flailing body, bounding your arms together at the wrist, heaving for breath.

he freezes, the realisation that for once he had all the power dawning upon him, unequipped for the sudden change in dynamic.

he can feel you, underneath him, pressed into the couch by his body, sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna do something or what?” you snark, no longer trying to wriggle free, accepting and even pleased in your defeat.

“yeah,” he adds meekly, despite not making an attempt to actually do something.

your brows thread together, knee sliding up the side of his body, spreading your legs further as his cock perks up in response.

holy fucking shit.

this was it.

or it could be it if he can gather his raucous thoughts enough to make a move.

eddie’s had sex before, multiple times in fact. he doesn’t understand why his hands aren’t doing the thing they should be, why he’s frozen in place, waiting for something to happen.

“we don’t have to, you know?”

fuck. he was going to fuck this up through sheer stupidity.

so instead of letting his brain worm his way out of what would probably be the best moment of his life, he thinks with his dick.

pressing his lips to yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. letting your hands free from his restraint, allowing you to weave your fingers through his hair just like he’d thought so much about.

his hands crawling underneath his shirt, touching your skin for what felt like the first time ever, gliding over your waist, appreciating the soft feel of your skin, lingering for too long.

he doesn’t want to take it off, how many times could he say he’d have sex with you with his shirt on?

you’d already stripped him out of his clothes, leaving nothing to the imagination as his hips grind down against yours, breathing shakily into your mouth.

your lips latch onto his, tongue sliding into his open mouth while your fingers pull gently at his curls.

even when eddie thinks he’s fully in control, you still take charge. rutting your hips upwards, separated by the thin layer of lace and his boxers that most definitely had a hole in them.

there’s a fifty percent chance that he’ll cum right away, already incredibly hard, teetering on the edge.

it’s genuinely incomprehensible that after months and months of longing and edging, this was finally happening. too caught up with trying to keep to your pace to really think about the implications on your relationship too much.

he hopes that this won’t change anything, at least not negatively anyway.

your hand slides down the tiny space left in between your bodies, toying with the waistband of his boxers before slipping in. unable to contain his groan from slipping out and into your mouth.

tugging the fabric down just enough to let his cock out, giving him no time to recover before your fist wraps around the base of his cock, pumping your fingers around the sensitive skin.

“fuck,” he breathes, bottom lip still latched onto yours. no hand had ever come close to yours, filling his thoughts since you’d touched him for the first time.

wayne’s ratty old couch wasn’t exactly the romantic location he’d envisioned this happening in, but beggars can’t be choosers and eddie certainly wasn’t going to complain.

he’s so dumbfounded that any of this is even happening, clumsily fumbling with the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down haphazardly, with no care or grace.

his previous displays of desperation made sure you didn’t care about his composure, or else you wouldn’t be here.

your lips collide, all teeth and tongues and spit. eddie too focused on the feel of your hand around his cock to care.

he can feel your body shift from underneath, manoeuvring his cock to your soaked entrance, letting out the most ungodly noise as the tip glistens with your slick.

pressing your sweaty forehead against his, begging for his full attention, “look at me,” you insist, running your fingers around his cock, withholding him from full satisfaction.

he does as you ask, finding your wild-eyed gaze, holding it just long enough to slide into your slick cunt, grunting into the hot air that hung around the room.

“fuck,” you bite, weaving your fingers through his hair, tightening your things around his waist.

it’s dizzying. feeling you envelope around him just as he’d imagined countless times before. you’re so warm and so wet, so so wet. eddie can’t help but wonder if this is how you’d felt when you were grinding against him.

nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the fuzzy haze that’d encapsulate his brain, thoughts only of you and your body and your pussy.

his balls slap against your ass, slow and steady, hoping not to bust five seconds in. keeping his eyes on yours, encapsulated by the way they flit between his eyes and his lips.

heaven wouldn’t be too far off this, he thinks.

his rhythm is neither here nor there but he was trying, filling you to the hilt and then pulling back out again.

every soft, melodic gasp and cry you made was echoing through his brain, spurring him on to make them louder.

purely intoxicated with your pussy, gasping for more as he slams against your hips.

this wasn’t going to last long but he sure as shit was going to make it worthwhile.

you writhe underneath his body, fingernails grazing against his scalp, gentle and yet demanding.

“sh-shit eds,” you pant, jaw slack with your tongue practically lolling out of your head.

just hearing you moan his name has detrimental effects on his brain chemistry. his eyelids struggle, fluttering open just enough to meet your glossy eyes, pupils blown out and crazy. this was going to wreck him for the rest of his life, cursed forever by the image of you and your parted lips. the way you wail his name becoming a tune he’d revisit constantly.

he’d love to capture it, one day, if you’d let him.

no one would ever come close to you, your cunt and your god forsaken sighs. eddie promises to himself that if there’s a next time, he’s not leaving until you cum. unsure if he’d be able to control himself but more than willing to take that risk.

his thrusts become sporadic, losing his grip on reality as he teeters closer and closer to the edge. you can see it too, tugging gently on his hair to bring him back to this reality.

pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth, too high off of your own pleasure to aim for accuracy.

eddie’s not sure if he prefers your goading or this softer touch, honestly neither were helping him not to bust his load right now.

“yeah?” you breathe, in response to his hoarse grunts, succumbing to the tightening pressure in his stomach, “you gonna cum?” sighing against his mouth.

he doesn’t want to, not really. hoping this’d last forever and ever because god knows if you’d ever let him touch you again.

hoping desperately to have not wasted his one and only time buried inside of you by cumming in five minutes flat.

but he is going to cum, in fact, he’s dangerously close to doing so immediately. the way you squeeze and tighten around him only accelerating the inevitable, his toes curling and mouth running dry.

he was seeing stars, dancing around the inside of his eyelids. woozy on adrenaline as he pathetically ruts his hips into yours for a final few lousy strokes.

“oh fuck,” eddie rushes, “no- fuck i’m cumming,” his cock slides out, thick ropes of his release covering not only your inner thighs but the couch too. collapsing atop of your perfect body, pinning you to the cushions as he attempts to gain some sort of semblance of control.

his face finds your chest, heaving for breath between your tits, his shirt pulled up just enough for your bra to peep underneath the hem.

“jesus christ,” words vibrating against your skin, almost purring at your fingers combing through his hair.

nothing he could ever dream would match up to that. the neurons in his brain had been frazzled, never to work or compute the way they should, ever again.

he places a measly kiss to your chest, looking up at you through his lashes, an insignificant gesture of appreciation that he felt he owed.

“you good?” you ask, lips twitching into a smile, unsure if you’re mocking him or genuinely concerned. either or would be fine.

“not really,” still floating up above the clouds.

“shut up,” definitely mocking, pulling tufts of his hair back to have him meet your eye fully, “you liked that?”

he nods enthusiastically, pining after your approval like the lovesick little loser he truly was. incredibly, you hadn’t run off into the storm, so maybe you had too.

“good,” abruptly letting go of his hair, his head falling back onto your chest, “get off me, i need a shower,” attempting to peel him off of your body.

eddie knows, or at least hopes, that your snippy, sarcastic comments were made out of love. you showed affection by being a bitch and he showed his by being a stumbling, pathetic loser.

if that was all he had to endure to get anywhere near your pussy again, he’d do it in a heartbeat. each and every time.

-

wayne’s knuckles wrap against his bedroom door, waking eddie from the already broken sleep he was suffering with, far too excitable to settle down properly. instead he’d spent his hours between drifting in and out of sleep and watching your dreamy face, trying to match his breaths to yours.

he slides out of bed, careful not to wake you, treading carefully to avoid the mountains of crap strewn across the floor.

“what the hell?” wayne whispers angrily, gesturing back to the living room he had neglected to clean. too caught up in you being in his shower and in his bed with his shirt on to care about empty beer bottles and discarded clothes.

“sorry,” eddie squirms, knowing he couldn’t exactly worm his way out of this one. “we had a few beers.. you know,” shrugging coyly. his uncle wasn’t stupid, he definitely did know.

wayne’s eyes narrow, flitting behind eddie to you, sleeping soundly in his bed. thankfully covered by the blanket as you slept in just his shirt.

“what happened there?” raising his brow at his inconspicuous nephew.

he shrugs, and then he grins. that great big toothy grin that wayne couldn’t mistake.

wayne shakes his head, tutting to himself as he backs away from the door, “clean that shit up before i wake up,” before disappearing into his own room.

eddie smiles to himself, sliding back into bed when you stir, humming softly, displeased to have been woken up so early.

“is he mad?” you mumble, muffled by the pillow.

“no.. no, not really,” eddie hushes, turning on his side to face you.

you’re still dozing, not bothering to open your eyes though he didn’t mind, you were peaceful this way, far calmer than your usual self.

“good,” settling into the pillow before slinging your leg over his thigh, pulling yourself closer, “he loves me too much to do anything anyway,” nestling your body into his side.

if the world ended tomorrow, eddie would die a happy man.