#the biggest crine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eddiesghxst · 10 months ago

Text

excuse me bestie, i’m just gonna—

i’m crine. i’m literally crine, this is the biggest compliment and i will definitely be letting my head get fat from this for the next like 48 hours <3

Lights, Camera, Acción

credit for cute lil dividers: @cafekitsune

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: eddie munson x pornstar!reader

summary: eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you

contains: strangers to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, mentions of smoking, awkward situations, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected — be safe pls), mentions of people being judgemental of readers line of work, mentions of anal, slightly exhibitionism, lots of smut, a sliver of mechanic!eddie, and eddie being the charming loser he's always been <3

word count: 13.5k (i am so fucking sorry omg)

-masterlist-

Eddie might be way in over his head.

Eddie’s been naked in front of groups of people before (the high school boy's locker room is a scary place to be, honestly), but never in those awful days of forced physical education was Eddie’s dick the center of everyone’s attention.

It’s weird, no doubt about it, standing at the front of a conference room with a table full of producers and writers and whatnot just… ogling Eddie’s naked frame.

“Can you lift your dick, please? So we can see your balls.”

Yeah. This is definitely going at the top of Eddie’s ‘weird things I’ve done for money’ list.

Still, Eddie reaches down and presses his dick up against his lower stomach to give his audience an unrestricted view of his balls.

Jesus.

“Okay, you can put your clothes back on.”

Honestly, Eddie wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for Robert, the manager at Eddie’s job— well, old job.

Robert had some kind of weird fucking vengeance out for Eddie. Maybe it was because Eddie came back high from, like, most of his lunch breaks, but should that really matter if Eddie still got the job done? How coherent do you have to be to organize music records by name? Not very fuckin’ much.

Robert disagreed, though, so he fired Eddie.

Robert was an asshole, though, and whenever Eddie would nicely warn him, ‘Hey, Rob, I’m gonna be out of town next Saturday,’ Robert would still fucking schedule him to close on that exact day!

Good riddance.

Except now, Eddie’s short on rent for the month, which is why he’s found himself standing fully naked in a room full of adult filmmakers.

Eddie’s almost dropped out of this deal ten times by now. He wasn’t sure if he was keen on the idea of his bare, naked body being out for the entire world and future generations to see. But then Eddie thought about it, and, well, he’s got a pretty decent cock. It’s an average size, and it’s not weird looking or anything, and his balls don’t sag— and, like, isn’t his dick primarily the star of the show? Eddie Jr. could pass for a star, Eddie thinks, and so do the people looking at it right now.

And he also really fucking needs the money, so. Porn it is.

Whatever.

Eddie could deal with it as long as he gets enough money to keep a roof over his head. Which reminds him— “Hey, uh, how much will I be getting paid, by the way?”

Eddie’s now fully clothed, car keys in hand, and ready to go now that he’s been dismissed, and he’s scratching the back of his neck as he waits for an answer.

One of the men at the table (Eddie thinks his name is Brian, but he’s not 100% sure) glances up at Eddie from the pile of papers he’d been sorting through, “Eight hundred for the booking and ten percent from the sales.”

Which, yeah, that covers Eddie’s rent. It also leaves a little bit of change in Eddie’s pocket, so “Sweet.” Eddie nods.

So, Eddie follows one of the assistants to her office, where she hands Eddie a file with the word SCRIPT written in bold and red letters, “Read over it, practice the lines a few times, do whatever you need to do to prepare for Friday.” She kindly smiles.

She’s sweet. Short, stout, and pretty, and she has these cute glasses that remind Eddie of a ladybug. Eddie takes the manila folder, bowing his head with a cheesy smile, “Thank you, Emily.”

“So, will I be getting a costume? Do pornos still have those dramatic plots with, like, pirates and shit?” Eddie rambles as he cracks the folder open to take a gander.

Emily snorts, “Sure, but unfortunately, you’re not a pirate for this one,” Eddie glances at her and dramatically pouts, “You will be taking on the role of a neighbor. Pretty simple and easy, not much setup needed, but I’m sure you’ll see that when you read over the script.”

Eddie looked over the script as soon as he got in his van, and Emily was right: there’s not much setup at all. There’s a few cheesy lines, cliche porno shit that definitely gets skipped over, and then they go straight to fucking. Eddie tries to run his lines a few times, but then he fails miserably, so he ends up tossing the script in his passenger seat and making a mental note to look at it later.

How hard can it be?

Apparently pretty fucking hard.

It’s Friday, and Eddie’s a chaotic mess as he walks in through the doors of the film studio. He’d just spent the last 30 minutes in his van trying to practice his lines, but Eddie was never the greatest theater kid, and the lines wouldn’t stick, so he ended up smoking a joint to ease his nerves.

People are bustling around the room, calling out orders and setting up lights, mics, furniture— the whole mile. It’s an entire ordeal that Eddie has walked into, and for a second, Eddie forgets that he’s one of the actual stars when someone walks up to him and says, “You're the new talent?”

“Huh?”

“New talent. Are you the guy we’re filming today?”

Eddie glances around and catches a glimpse of a half-naked girl eyeing him from across the room as a lady fixes her hair for the cameraman. She’s pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Nice body and soft-looking skin that Eddie would like to sink his teeth into and leave pretty little marks.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m Eddie.”

“Good. You’re late.”

Shit. Eddie must’ve lost track of time while practically hacking up a lung in his hotboxed van.

The person drags Eddie to a vanity and nudges him toward the high chair, “You’ll get your hair and makeup done, then we should be rolling in about half an hour.”

It’s jarring, really, seeing the amount of work that goes into the shitty raunchy films Eddie jacks off to, but it’s captivating nonetheless. Eddie can see the movement behind him through the vanity mirror, but he’s more focused on the pretty girl still posing for the camera. If that’s the girl Eddie will be working with, then this will be way easier than Eddie thought it would be because he’s already getting hard. Some might call it pathetic, but oh well.

“Hiya, hon! You the new talent?” A chirpy girl walks up behind Eddie, pearly white teeth and glossed lips working in tandem as she chews her gum and blows a quick bubble. She doesn’t wait for Eddie’s response as she digs her fingers into Eddie’s curly strands, tossing and gently pulling them about to see what she’s working with.

Her name is Nicki. She’s friendly and very talkative; Eddie comes to learn, because for the majority of the time that she’s working on Eddie’s hair, her mouth is running nonstop. Eddie doesn’t mind, though; honestly, it helps to take his mind off of whatever the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

Emily, the assistant from earlier, walks up to the vanity, her cute ladybug glasses slipping down her nose as she steps into Eddie’s view— and Eddie is happy to see a familiar and kind face. “Will you be needing a fluffer?”

Eddie blinks, eyes fluttering when the hairstylist dusts his bangs over his lashes, “Uh— a what now?”

Nicki loudly pops her gum as she shakes a can of hairspray, “A fluffer, honey. Someone to jack you off and get you ready for the scene.”

Eddie’s eyes widened for a split second, and he made the mistake of glancing over at the girl who was still modeling across the room. Her tits are out now, and they’re perfect, and she catches Eddie’s eyes for the second time, and it makes his already stiffened cock stir within his pants.

Eddie shakes his head as he looks back at Emily, his voice higher when he responds, “No, I uh… I think I’m good.”

Which, duh. Eddie's dick is practically breaking the seams of his jeans because of the pretty girl, and it’s only getting worse because now she’s walking toward him dressed in a white robe. “You must be Eddie.”

Eddie’s surprised you know his name, but then he figures, obviously, you must know his name given the fact that you’re about to let him swing his dick near you. “That’s me,” Eddie smiles, “You must be… I’m sorry nobody’s told me anything.” He awkwardly laughs.

You nod with a shrug and tell him your name, “Is this your first time filming?” You ask.

Eddie nods, “Is it that obvious?” He nervously asks. You shrug, “Most guys in the industry need more than a pair of tits to get that hard.” You nod towards Eddie’s crotch— and oh god. How embarrassing! She knows you were checking her out!

“No need to be embarrassed though, Eddie. Pretty soon, you’ll be shoving your cock down my throat, so.”

Eddie’s cock may have gotten harder from those words alone.

“A rookie? Seriously, Don?”

Your makeup is being done, so you don’t see how your manager rolls her eyes at you. “When I said I wanted someone fresh, I didn’t mean never-been-under-the-camera fresh.”

The makeup artist finishes with your touch-ups, and you take the opportunity to turn to Don and glare at her, “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Don.”

The older lady waves a dismissive hand, “He’ll do just fine, babe,” she deadpans. You shake your head, turning to look at the man of the hour. He’s attractive; you’ll give him that. Tall, pretty curly hair, sweet brown eyes, a panty-dropping voice. Sure, he’s attractive, okay. But he’s got no clue how to do this type of thing. Clearly— I mean, you’re literally watching him gaze down at the dildos that have been lined up for you as if he’s never seen one in his life— which you doubt. If he knew how to find an adult filmmaking studio, then he’s definitely seen some fucking dildos.

You suppress a laugh when he accidentally drops a glass dildo, turning back to your manager as you ignore his chorus of apologies to the staff, “My case in point.��

Don fails to hold back a laugh, “So he’s a little off the walls,” she shrugs, “He’s cute though. And his dick is nice. Trust me.”

And, well, she’s not wrong.

Don’s never been one to lie without reason, so unfortunately, Eddie’s cock is nice. Pretty, even. Which is weird because after some time being in this industry, the thrill of a nice-looking cock has gotten lost on you because they practically all look the same— just different shades of colors, really.

But Eddie’s cock is nice in the sense that it’s real. He’s not shot up with steroids to make it overly veiny and big or cleanly shaved or any of that superficial camera-ready shit. No, Eddie is natural. He’s got neatly trimmed curly hairs across his pelvis that smell like his body wash when you nuzzle your nose against it, and he’s big enough to wrap your hand around, but you know the second he pushes inside of you, it will be a nice stretch. He’s cut, and he has a slight curve to the left, and he’s so sensitive his cock jumps when you tap the pearly white drop that leaks from his tip. You giggle, shuffling forward on your knees as you stroke him.

You’re already done with the opening scene, finally. Eddie couldn’t remember any of his lines, so it took a lot longer than it should’ve, but you think it was worth it either way because the way Eddie moans when you finally wrap your lips around his tip is the prettiest sound you think you’ve ever heard.

“F-fuck,” He quietly curses, hips shifting as you swallow more of him. He sinks a slightly shaking hand into your hair, gently cupping your head as you work your mouth over him. Your eyes flutter to gaze up at him, and your stomach flutters at the cocky grin he gives you. “You’ve got such a good little mouth on you, sweetheart. Gonna let me fuck it?”

You hum and nod as best as you can with his cock in your mouth, and he hums, “Open up for me, baby.”

You shift on your knees, finding a comfortable position for the action before blinking up at Eddie, indicating you’re ready. Eddie’s hands are steady and certain as he cups both sides of your head, holding you still as he draws his cock out once before slowly thrusting in until your throat tightens around his tip.

He fills your mouth so perfectly, just enough to where you won’t get bored, but you also won’t get an overly aching jaw, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. Can’t wait to feel how his cock twitches when he first nestles deep in your walls or how much better the sounds he makes will be.

It’s a nice feeling, having Eddie fuck your mouth, and you usually don’t care much for shots like this because most of the time, it’s either underwhelming or overwhelming, but Eddie fucks your throat in a sense that’s dirty yet so caring. He’s spewing out filthy praises, and you're drooling onto his balls, but he’s looking at you with these soft brown eyes and caressing you so gently you might quiver. Fuck, you really wanted to hate him.

Behind the camera, the director makes a motion for you to cut to the next action, but since your back is to them, Eddie is the one that sees it and gently coaxes you off from his cock, cooing when you let out the smallest whine that only he can hear. He smiles, thumb running beneath your swollen lip to catch the strings of spit and cum, “What? You liked having me down your throat, sweet girl?”

You mewl, pressing your chin into his palm as you nod.

"Yeah. Want it, please?" You whisper. God, you didn’t expect to be fucked out within the first scene. "Aw, maybe next time, princess. You can keep me warm as long as you'd like."

It’s almost embarrassing, how much you like the sound of that and how it makes your tummy flip, but you don’t have much time to think about it because Eddie’s ushering you up from the floor to climb onto the couch and straddle his lap.

You’re both bare now, and when Eddie had first taken his shirt off, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands down his graffitied chest, but you were too busy sinking to your knees. But now you have the chance, and boy, do you fucking take it.

You marvel as you coast your hands across Eddie’s body, fingertips gliding through fields of inked stories and vast skin. His breath hitches when you graze over his nipples, and his hips shift beneath you, wet cock slipping against your sticky folds. You whimper, grinding down onto him, and he curses as he grabs ahold of your hips. “Y’like them?” He sweetly asks, referring to his tattoos.

"Yeah," you nod, grinding down harder to have his cock nestled between your folds, his ruddy tip nudging your clit. “I can tell you all about them if you want.”

You giggle at his timing, but before you can respond, a director speaks up from the side, “Less talking, please.”

Eddie glances over your shoulder and salutes the man, “Roger that, sir.”

You can’t help but snort at his actions, but you’re quickly hushed when Eddie reaches down to paint his cock between your folds before lining himself up, “Go ahead and sit on it, baby.” He whispers.

You listen, nuzzling your face against his shoulder as you wriggle yourself down the length of his cock.

And god, you love being fucking right. The stretch is so good, better than you had imagined it to be, and you can’t help the high-pitched moan that slips from your lips when Eddie thrusts up into you.

"O-oh. Oh fuck," You whimper. You’re practically boneless as Eddie fucks you, your entire body just draped over him as his hands dig into your ass to help bounce you on his cock. “Jesus fucking— you feel so good,” He pants, and you mewl, cunt clenching around his cock as he drills up into you. “You gonna cum for me, hm? Be my best girl and cum for me. I know you’ll sound so pretty.” He whispers.

Before you know it, you’re moaning out and writhing in Eddie’s hold, juices dripping down his cock and forming a sticky mess in the patch of curls at his base as you cum.

“Let’s have a shot from the back.”

Your body feels weightless as you and Eddie change positions so you’re on all fours. You’re blinking through a hazy fog, and it feels so good. Eddie’s hands send chills up your spine as they grip your waist and tug you towards him.

“Oh, baby, you’re shaking,” Eddie hums, running his hands over the fat of your ass, thumbs digging into the skin to spread you open. You’re so wet you can hear the sticky noise of your folds parting, and Eddie groans as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. “You open up so well for me, sweet girl.”

Jesus.

You don’t get much of a warning before you feel Eddie lapping and sucking at your cunt, devouring you until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and quivering limbs.

Jesus Christ, that wasn’t in the fucking script. Half of the shit Eddie’s doing isn’t in the fucking script, and it's making your head spin.

God, who is this man?

You whimper his name, reaching a shaky hand back to grapple at his hair, and Eddie nuzzles his face deeper into your cunt, nose nudging your ass in a way that makes your toes curl. He’s good. He’s really good, you’ll give him that.

You and Eddie go at it for about an hour, switching positions and pausing every now and then to get a good shot of your cunt wrapped around Eddie’s cock, or Eddie’s tongue lapping over your clit or tits.

And it's fun doing this with Eddie.

Eddie is like a breath of fresh air. Most guys in this industry are stuck up and make things annoyingly serious, and most girls are either bitchy or just want to get it over with, which you don’t blame them for.

But Eddie makes things feel so normal— like you’re just two best friends getting filmed having sex— because he keeps whispering tiny jokes to make you giggle. He tells you how pretty you sound and look, and he’s so incredibly clueless because he keeps leaning in and asking things like, “Is this, like, a good angle for the camera?” and “Should I maybe kiss you more?” and “Is it okay if I stop fucking you for a second? Because I’m about to blow.”

And all you can do is breathlessly moan and nod because he’s plunging himself so deep into you that it almost hurts, but it’s so good.

You’re so fucked out you barely even register Eddie’s words when he tells you he’s about to cum, but your body immediately reacts when he pats your hip, indicating for you to get ready.

You scramble down from the couch, limbs weighted from pleasure as you settle on your knees, batting your lashes up at Eddie as he towers over you, stroking his wet cock. Eddie rests a hand on your head, fingers grasping your hair to keep you still as he gazes down at you. You’re impatient, so you can’t help but let yourself sneakily lick the tip of his cock, and he grins, “It’s coming, precious girl. Stick your tongue out for me.”

You shuffle closer, sticking your tongue out as you eagerly await the taste of Eddie on your tongue— and when you get it, god, you never want it to stop. Everything about it is perfect: the way his face twists up, the way he tastes, the pretty moans he lets out. You want it on repeat.

You might buy this film just to relive it.

You take every last drop Eddie has to give you with a happy hum; a little bit catches your lip, and Eddie swipes it with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth and suckling. You whine, frowning and causing Eddie to laugh, “You got most of it, sweetheart. Can’t be too greedy, can you?”

It’s like you’re both in your own world. Only talking to each other and enjoying each other's bodies because Eddie just… it’s weird, but he makes the room go away. He makes things feel less performative— and maybe it’s just your hazy, blissed-out state of mind, but you think you might like Eddie.

You’re snapped from your trance when the director yells cut, and then everyone’s springing into action to tear down the set because another crew will be using it next. Eddie helps you stand on your wobbly legs, “You alright?”

You nod, “Great. You did good, by the way.”

Eddie leans forward and grabs your robe that had been pushed to the side. He smiles as he holds it open for you, “Thank you. You did pretty awesome yourself.” He responds as you slink your arms through the sleeves.

You turn to Eddie as you close your robe and tie it shut. Your assistant, Emily, hands Eddie a robe for himself, and he thanks her, curtly bowing his head as he grabs the plush article. “So,” Eddie starts as he slips on the robe. You both start walking towards the dressing rooms as he speaks, “Think I could make a career for myself here?” He asks.

You halt at that, turning to Eddie with a confused look, “Is that… is that not why you’re here?” You ask.

Eddie shakes his head as he ties his robe, “Nah, I got fired from my job. Needed some cash for rent this month.” He explains.

Is it selfish to say you’re disappointed to hear this? If Eddie had been wanting to join this industry, you would’ve had the opportunity to work with him again. But maybe it’s more selfish to say you’re happy he isn’t joining this industry. Eddie becoming an adult film star would mean half of the time, he’d be fucking other people, and unfortunately, that idea alone makes your gut twist with jealousy.

You nod, pursing your lips as you fiddle with your fingers, “Well… would you be interested in this type of thing?” You try your best to sound casual about it, and you think it works because Eddie only shrugs again with a short hum, “I don’t know. Wouldn’t be opposed to it, I guess.”

Before you can respond, Emily calls your name, ��Don needs to speak with you in the other room about your next shoot.”

You turn back to Eddie and try to commit his pretty brown eyes to memory, “I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie.” You smile. Eddie smiles back and does somewhat of a dramatic bow, and you snort as you walk off.

You glance over your shoulder as you walk with Emily.

“Could you do me a favor?” You ask her. Emily nods, and you take one last glance at Eddie before he disappears into the dressing room.

“Get his number for me. And leave it in my purse, please.”

A couple of weeks have passed since Eddie made his big debut in the film world.

Eddie made a pretty penny from that film, enough to pay his rent and have some play money on the side. Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t have to scramble for cash this month again because he got a job at the mechanic shop downtown. It’s a lot of labor and a lot of hours, but the pay is good, and nobody gives a shit if Eddie comes back from lunch smelling like a dispensary, so.

Suck that, Robert.

However, Eddie’s still thoroughly surprised to see you sitting in the shop office when he returns from a quick smoke break. “Woah, funny seeing you here. Car problems?” He questions. Eddie tries not to think about the fact that he’s seen you completely bare before. Tries not to think of how he’d spent over an hour in your guts last month or how you swallowed his load like it was nothing. Eddie fails miserably.

You shake your head as you stand up from the leather couch in the office, grabbing your purse as Eddie walks closer to you, “No, actually, Lola’s doing great.”

Eddie cocks his head, “Lola?”

You nod, “My car.” You gesture out towards the window where your car is parked. Eddie makes an understanding noise as he nods.

“I was actually hoping to talk to you.”

Eddie pauses at that, confusion settling over his body as he looks at you. You’re beautiful, kind, soft eyes with soft, pretty lips that Eddie thinks about kissing when he goes to bed. Eddie points to himself with raised eyebrows, “Me?”

You nod again, “Yeah, about like… my job and stuff.”

Oh.

Ohhhh.

“Oh, shit, yeah, um,” Eddie glances around the office and nods, “Yeah, we can step out and talk, like, in my van, maybe?” He offers. Not because he’s, like, ashamed to talk about porn or something, most people watch it! But a few of the guys that work here are downright dipshits, and Eddie won’t hesitate to punch one of them if they say some sly shit about you or your job. And, well, Eddie would like to keep his job, so.

You don’t take offense to it, though; you just nod with your pretty smile and tell Eddie to lead the way.

Eddie’s van smells like weed, cologne, and a hint of whatever he had for lunch.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles as he clears off the passenger seat that’s filled with bottles of different drinks, rolling papers, food wrappers, and things of the like. “She’s seen better days.”

You smile nonetheless, thanking him when he steps away and holds the door open for you. You hop into the seat, glancing around as Eddie shuts your door and jogs to the driver's seat.

He gets in with a heavy sigh, hair unruly from the wind, brown eyes wide and excited when he looks at you. “Hey.” He huffs with a smile, and there’s a piece of hair in Eddie’s bangs that’s sticking straight up. “Hey.” You giggle, reaching out to fix the rebellious strand. Eddie softly thanks you, and you swear you see a hint of pink dust across his cheeks.

He shifts in his seat, rubbing his hands against his thighs as he sighs again, “So… what’s up?”

God, he’s so cute. So incredibly weird and awkward and cute. He looks handsome in his navy blue coveralls, grease stains smeared across his torso, and some sneaky smudges on his neck. “You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know?” You tease.

Eddie’s face twists in confusion, “Huh?”

You shrug, distracting yourself by poking around at his dashboard, sifting through the CDs and tapes he has lying about. Eddie doesn’t stop you; he only watches, and you give him a cheeky smile. “My assistant got your number, right? But then you, like, never answered my calls.” You shrug as you flip through more of his things. You hear Eddie mumble something about needing a new cord for his home phone before he asks louder, " So, how’d you find me?”

God, he must think you’re a stalker or something. You didn’t really think that through, honestly.

You hum, “Just asked around a bit. You’re a bit of a hot commodity around here, by the way. Heard you started a cult? What’s that about?”

Eddie’s eyes widen at your words, and you laugh, “Oh god. Jesus, no, I didn’t start a cult. I just,” he groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I was just weird in high school.”

“You’re still weird.”

Eddie’s face falters at your words, but you smile as you add, “I like it.”

Eddie blushes again, but he turns to look away this time, and you think he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever set your eyes upon. He turns back to you with a shy grin, “Did you come here just to flirt with me?” He teases, wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger to twirl in a shy manner. “Maybe… but I also have a question.” You respond.

Eddie nods, “Shoot.”

You take a deep breath as you shift in your seat, “Well, uh, I wanted to ask if you maybe…” You glance at Eddie, who's expectantly awaiting your question, and your stomach twists with nerves. Why are you so nervous to ask Eddie for something you’ve already done before?

“Well, I’m doing a shoot tomorrow,” you finally begin, “And I just found out the guy they paired me with is, like, a total asshole— I’ve worked with him before, he’s just… awful,” You explain. “So, I was just… I don’t know; I was just wondering— hoping— you’d be up for it, maybe? To take the guy's place, I mean.”

You finish rambling and glance at Eddie as his eyes widen, “Oh, um. Like— like, film with you again?”

Eddie could leap for joy right now.

Not only are you, like, the cutest, prettiest, kindest fucking human being to ever grace this earth, but you’re sitting in Eddie’s van, chewing on your lip and asking Eddie to fuck you for the cameras again.

Eddie must’ve done something incredibly right in his past life.

“Oh!” Eddie starts, “ Um… yeah, I’d love to!” What? Weird, take that back. “No, I mean, like, not in a weird way. I just— I’d rather not let the asshole do it if I can do it.”

God, could Eddie sound any more pathetic?

Still, despite how dumb Eddie sounds, you smile and clasp your hands together, “Oh, are you sure? I know it’s last minute, and it’s not really the ideal task—”

“Woah, wait. What do you mean not the ideal task?”

Because literally, what do you mean? How could that not be the ideal task? And who made you think that fucking you isn’t the ideal task? If it’s that asshole you were supposed to work with, then Eddie has a few colorful things to say about and to him.

You shrug, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, “Nothing, I just know my job isn’t… you know, traditional or whatever. And you had only done it that one time because you needed it, so I get it if you’re, like, not in the mood to fuck on camera for a bunch of random people.” You ramble. Which, uh, no. You could not be further from the truth. Eddie would love to fuck you on camera for a bunch of random people. Hell, Eddie would love to fuck you under any consensual circumstance, if he’s being honest, so. Yeah, he’s pretty excited.

“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “No, I— I want to, really, I do.” Eddie nods.

Your unsure frown spreads into the prettiest smile before you reach across the center console to pull Eddie into the most bone-crushing, you-scented, chest-warming hug Eddie’s ever been given as you spew out a chorus of thank yous.

“I brought a copy of the script for you to look over so you’re not totally confused,” Eddie watches as you pull back to reach into your bag and pull out a manilla folder. “I usually like to color coordinate my scripts, so I did it for you too. The pink is me, and the red is you, and the specific actions they want us to do are in blue.” You point out. And Eddie thinks he might kiss you right now— you’re so fucking cute!

“Wow, thanks, um… I wish I were, like… good with these types of things, but I think you saw how majestic I am with scripts.” Eddie huffs out a laugh as he scratches the back of his neck. You smile, “I can help you— if you’d like.”

Oh, you’re trying to kill Eddie at this rate.

Eddie nods either way, even though he’s six feet underground and knocking at the fiery gates. “I would love that, actually. I finish work in about three hours if you’re free.”

Eddie definitely broke a handful of laws while driving home.

Since you offered to help Eddie with his lines, you both decided to meet at Eddie’s place. He gave you his address, told you how to get into the complex, and said see you later. Now, Eddie is ecstatic to see you, obviously, but Eddie can’t remember if his home looked normal or like a Walmart clearance aisle after black Friday, so he ran through multiple stop signs and red lights to get home before you showed up so he could clear things up.

He’s hustling through his apartment like a madman, picking up strewn clothes and cat toys before speeding through the few dishes he had in his sink. Honestly, Eddie’s apartment has seen worse days, so there’s not much cleaning he has to do, but he’s still stressed when he hears a knock on the door.

Eddie doesn’t even like candles, but he lit one just in case there’s a smell he’s grown used to lingering about. Eddie just doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob. Because he isn’t. He just has an orchestrated chaotic lifestyle.

Eddie couldn’t be happier when he opened his door because there you were, beaming with a smile and a bag of takeout, and Eddie thought it wasn’t normal to be this soft for someone you’d basically just met.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Eddie dramatically bows with an extended hand to show the entrance of his small, homey apartment. You smile as you walk in, taking in your surroundings.

It’s nothing extraordinary, honestly. Eddie’s home is really just vomit of everything Eddie likes: favorite colors, favorite movies, favorite game characters, etc. It’s like Eddie’s brain exploded and painted itself all over the place. Eddie had a girlfriend many moons ago, and she changed things around to become more coordinated, so now it’s less of a shit show and more of an abstract museum sort of thing.

Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway because you’re gasping and picking up the little roommate Eddie has.

“Who’s this?” You coo at the little creature. You’re looking down at the furball as you scratch behind her ear, “That,” Eddie sighs, “Is the reason why I didn’t get your calls.”

You look up at Eddie, confusion written across your face. Eddie points across the room to the wall where his home phone hangs, except the wire is broken. “Little asshole chewed through the wire, and I’ve been slow to replace it. Her name is Banshee.”

The cat meows at the mention of her name, wide eyes blinking up at Eddie as you coddle her. She’s a fluffy cat with a black coat decorated with two white spots: one on her back and the other just behind her ear.

You hum, “So technically,” You drag, “It’s your fault.” You tease. You coo as you press your cheek to the tiny kitten, gazing up at Eddie with these soft eyes, “I don’t think you can blame this cutie for your laziness.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, wills away whatever power he has to not kiss you, and gently takes the takeout bag from your hands so you have less to carry. “Fine then. Ask her what happened to the laces of my work shoes, too, since she’s so innocent.”

Eddie’s home is so… Eddie.

He’s got music and horror movie posters framed along his walls, cute little scary figurines randomly placed within his bookshelves, and there’s an overall smell of Eddie’s musk and the sandalwood candle he has burning. It’s cozy, a nice space for one person who enjoys their alone time, and he let you choose a record to play from his extensive collection, and he has the world's cutest little cat, so it’s safe to say you could spend an eternity in Eddie’s world.

“Shit, that wasn’t my line,” Eddie stresses. You smile as Eddie tosses the packet onto his coffee table and falls back onto the couch, “We’re wasting our time here, princess. I dropped out of theater for a reason.” He grumbles.

You sigh, tilting your head against the couch cushion as you gaze at Eddie, “You’re thinking too hard about it.” You say. “It’s a porno, not a Grammy-nominated film.” You point out.

Eddie snorts before giving a short shrug, “For the record, I think you could land a Grammy, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, right. You don’t need to suck up to me, Eddie, you’re already gonna fuck me tomorrow.” You jokingly say.

Eddie waves you off and shifts into a more comfortable position. “So,” He starts, “What’s the asshole guy's deal?”

Banshee has hopped onto the couch and made her way into your lap, tiny paws kneading the material of your jeans as she settles. You gently pet her as you glance at Eddie and shrug, “Not sure, he’s just a total dick,” You grumble. “I worked with him once last year, and he, like, told me I wasn’t the best or whatever— which, okay, I can totally understand,” You ramble, “I don’t think I’m, like, some sex god. I don’t expect to be everyone or anyone’s best fuck, but still! It just… it didn’t make me feel good, the way he said it.” You windedly explain. You distract yourself with the cute animal in your lap as you finish your explanation, “So, I asked my manager never to pair us again, but—” You shrug.

Next to you, Eddie shifts once more and scoffs. “He’s a fucking shitfaced liar, princess.”

You snort, playfully rolling your eyes, “Eddie—” “No, I’m serious. He’s a liar. Anybody who even gets the chance to touch you is a lucky fucker, okay? If anything, he probably begged your manager to let him work with you again.”

“You’re just saying that. I don’t need you to try and make me feel better, and it was so long ago anyway.” “Yeah, but that’s the thing, I’m not.”

You frown as you gaze over at Eddie, watching as he sits straight and looks at you with a serious gaze in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s up with that guy, maybe he was dropped as a baby too many times, but anybody with common sense and a properly functioning dick knows just how fucking amazing you are. End of discussion.”

And well, it’s pathetic how your chest warms at his words, but it does. And as Eddie goes on to ramble about his hectic week at work, you can’t help but let your mind spin with Eddie’s kind words until nothing is in your mind but the echoes of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Not many times has Eddie woken up with a girl in his home. Well, at least not a girl that he’s actually liked for more than a one-night stand or a shortly-lived fling.

After running the script for the last time, Eddie suggested putting on a movie and digging into the takeout you’d brought. The meal was delicious, and the movie you’d landed on was hilarious, but it’s hard to keep your eyes open on a full stomach, so when Eddie felt your head drop onto his shoulder, he couldn’t help but let his body sink into the couch and fall asleep too.

You’d woken up about an hour later and tried to make your escape quietly, but Eddie insisted you shouldn’t drive in such a sleepy state, so he let you make yourself comfy in his bed. Banshee, the little traitor, trotted right behind you and left Eddie on the couch to snuggle up beside you for the night.

You’re cute in the morning, Eddie thinks. You have an adorable little pout, and you yawn about 80 times until you’ve had a sip of coffee.

It takes nearly a lifetime to drag you away from Banshee so you and Eddie can head to the studio because you adore the little asshole, and Banshee loves anything that’ll give her the time of day. You make Eddie promise to let you see her again, though, so you sadly say goodbye with a soft peck to the fluffy area between her eyes and let Eddie drag you to his van.

The car ride is nice; Eddie lets you mess around with the contents of his van and go through the stack of CDs he’s compiled over the years. You land on one of Eddie’s favorites, an old mixtape Wayne made in college that Eddie spent most of his high school blaring loud enough to blow out a speaker.

Today, you’re shooting in a house— a nice one that Eddie could only conjure up in his dreams—but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because he’s being dragged over to makeup and hair as soon as he steps in.

“You thinking of joining the industry?” Nicki asks as she works a nice-smelling mousse into Eddie’s hair.

Eddie had been busy watching you talk to one of the producers, but he finds the strength to tear his eyes away and gaze at Nicki through the vanity mirror. “No, not exactly. Just… doing a favor for a friend, I guess.”

Nicki raises an eyebrow, “A friend? Don’t act like I didn’t see you two come in together.”

Eddie’s face warms at that, the tips of his ears turning red as he stutters, “Huh?”

Nicki looks at Eddie with a ‘Don’t bullshit me’ look.

“I mean, like, yeah, we had breakfast together–” “Mhm.”

Eddie huffs out a gentle laugh, “No, really, we’re friends.”

“Friends that fuck on camera and look at each other the way you two do? Sure.”

Eddie doesn’t ask what Nicki means by that because— well, he knows what Nicki means by that. He’s caught himself looking at you like you put the stars in the sky one too many times, and it’s almost embarrassing. Almost.

But can you blame Eddie? Can you really blame him when you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, the softest smile, the greatest laugh, and the sweetest personality? It’s not Eddie’s fault that you’re perfect.

Eddie just thinks you’re neat.

He thinks you’re amazing, actually, and it’s hard to remember his fucking lines when you’re standing under a steaming shower, wet body glistening and pebbled nipples practically begging for his mouth.

He’s butchering the script, that’s for sure, but he figures it’s not too bad since nobody’s corrected him.

The scene starts with you taking a shower and Eddie being a peeping tom, which ultimately leads to Eddie sinking to his knees and licking into you until you’re a quivering, sticky mess on his tongue. Eddie would spend forever on his knees, between your legs, if he could because you taste heavenly and sound better than any song Eddie’s ever listened to, and that says something.

Your fingers thread through the wet strands of Eddie’s hair, and Eddie rapidly blinks when he gazes up at you, only to get an eyeful of his wispy bangs. You smile, petting back his bangs so he can see, and he hums, nudging his face further against you, his tongue teasing more, fingers curling deeper.

It doesn’t take long to make you cum, and the second you do, Eddie is standing up, shutting off the shower, and ushering you out into the expansive main bathroom. It’s almost as if it’s just Eddie and you in the room. No cameras, no directors or producers, or that weird pervy lighting guy that compliments you way too fucking much for Eddie’s liking. It’s just you and Eddie.

“Let’s do an over-the-counter shot next.”

Fuck. It’s not just you two, actually.

What a buzz kill.

Either way, Eddie finds himself pressing your wet, naked waist down against the sink, smiling when you squeal at the cold marble touching your skin. “Stick your ass out, baby, let me see that gorgeous ass.”

You mewl as you follow Eddie’s instructions, tipping your hips back to present yourself to him and the cameras. You’re dripping. Swollen and wet and throbbing, and Eddie— god, Eddie feels like a fucking animal.

“Got such a pretty pussy, honey. All wet and ready for me, hm?” He teases, gently running his fingers through the sticky arousal between your legs. You shakily breathe as you nod your head, “Yeah. All for you. Please.”

Eddie steps forward, grabbing his cock and painting it between your swollen lips as he hooks his other arm across your shoulders, pulling you back to press against his chest. He presses a wet kiss to the skin of your cheek in front of your ear, voice dry and needy as he whispers in your ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” His eyes catch yours in the mirror as you keen. “Ask me to fuck you.”

You whimper out loud, wriggling your hips back into his as your hands grip the counter, “P-please fuck me. Please. Need it so bad, want your cock so bad I— o-oh.”

The slide to home base is fucking otherworldly. It was life-changing the first time, and it’s life-changing now, and if Eddie ever gets the chance to fuck you again, he knows it’ll be life-changing then.

You’re so warm, and you're sucking Eddie’s cock in so nicely, so sinfully, that Eddie almost makes a deal with the devil right then and there. Your chest is heaving by the time Eddie’s pelvis presses to your bum, his cock nestled deep into your pulsing cunt. Eddie leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as he loops an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to him as he gives one slow thrust. He coos when your eyes flutter shut, and your jaw drops, a shaky hand reaching up to sink your nails into Eddie’s forearm.

“S-so deep,” You slur, wriggling your hips back against Eddie.

Eddie grunts, “Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Always so warm and ready for me, hm?” Eddie’s lips are wet against your jaw as he whispers into your ear, and you nod with a mewl.

Eddie works up the pace relatively fast in favor of the cameras, and at some point, he reaches down to grip the thick of your thigh and haul your leg up to rest on the counter so you’re spread open even more. The angle makes it easier for him to catch your spot, and it’s better for the camera to capture the sight of your soaking pussy wrapped around Eddie’s cock, dribbling onto both of your thighs and creating a sticky ring of arousal at the base of Eddie’s dick.

Eddie’s hand is wrapped around your throat when you begin twitching around him, mumbling promises of your climax, and Eddie doesn’t waste time in sinking his hand between your legs to help you reach the edge quicker. Your moans fall silent, eyes squeezed shut, and jaw dropped wide open as Eddie fucks you through your orgasm— and fuck, you feel so good. Squeezing and pulsing and dripping around Eddie’s thighs, throat vibrating beneath his palm when air comes back to you.

“There we go, baby. Get it all out, push it out, honey.” Eddie encourages you.

You’re shaking, trembling like a leaf in Eddie’s arms, and Eddie wants to spend forever tucked into your pussy, warm skin sticky against him, pretty little whines and mewls coating his brain in this cutesy pink fog that makes him want to fucking marry you.

Get you a home, give you his babies, maybe even get you a fucking dog and just live happily goddamn ever.

Jesus, Eddie’s a goner.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Eddie pulls out last second, jerking himself off between your cute ass cheeks until he’s spurting white ropes of cum up your back.

Eddie, ever the considerate man he is, pushes your hair out of the way to avoid getting any of his sticky release in it. You’re breathing heavily, pretty eyes glazed over as you glance back at Eddie, a shy glint in your eyes at the sight of your skin painted in his cum.

Eddie’s obsessed with you now, no doubt.

His ringed fingers slide through the sticky mess on your skin as he grips your ass cheeks, gently spreading them apart and humming when you arch your back, proudly swaying your ass in front of him. The sight makes Eddie dizzy; pools of cum dripping down your back to slink its way through your ass and over your sticky folds. “You’ve got such a cute little hole, baby.” Eddie compliments, taking his thumb and smearing his cum over the puckered muscle, softly laughing when you whine.

He lightly slaps your ass then, reaching forward to gently grasp your face with his messy hands and pull you back to press a firm kiss over your lips. His thumb, the one that had smeared his cum over your tight hole, sinks between your moving lips, pushing into your mouth and onto your tongue as he whispers a small command to taste it, and you mewl.

“So good, princess—”

“Cut!”

You both jolt at the booming voice, getting rudely snapped out of the daze you’d fallen into.

These fucking cameras.

You smile, dropping your cheek onto your shoulder as you bat your eyelashes up at Eddie from over your shoulder, “You’re a natural, Eddie, you know that?”

Eddie huffs a laugh, thanking the assistant when they bring you towels and robes.

“Well,” He breathes as he slinks the robe over his shoulders, watching as you do the same, “I’ve got the best coach.” He winks.

Now that you and Eddie have done two films together and basically had a sleepover, you’re practically inseparable.

It’s funny, really. Eddie thought maybe the fact that you’ve seen each other bare and had sex on camera might hinder the aspect of any friendly connection because, well, Eddie’s never done this before! He’s not a pornstar, so he’s not sure how the friendship/relationship aspect of it works, but luckily, it’s easier than most normal friendships Eddie’s had before.

You talk almost every night over the phone (Eddie finally fixed the wire), going over one another’s day and laughing at embarrassing or funny moments. You go on for hours until either one of you falls asleep, and it’s usually you since Eddie has the sleep schedule of a newborn baby who doesn’t know the difference between night and day. All the better for him, though, because he gets to poke fun at you the next day and tease you about how you sometimes snore.

And Eddie loves listening to you talk— could spend hours cuddled up with Banshee as he listens to you ramble on about whatever new show you’re watching or the latest gossip at work. It’s Eddie’s favorite part of his day, talking to you, so he kicks himself when he realizes he forgot to call you last night.

He’s getting ready for bed when he remembers, and he practically sprints to his phone on his nightstand and dials your number in less than thirty seconds. It takes you three rings to answer, and Eddie smiles at the sound of your voice, “Hello?”

“Hi, princess,” Eddie responds.

You gasp, “Eddie, hi! Oh, I was just about to call you! Where have you been?” You ask. Eddie groans, dropping back onto his mattress with spread arms. “Working. I’m so sorry I forgot to call. I just started a new schedule at the shop, and the hours are awful.”

Eddie can hear your frown when you respond, “Bummer. I’ve got a way to cheer you up, though.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed, and sleep is so heavy in his bones he feels like he’s sinking through the mattress, but he smiles as if it’s second nature when he responds, “Hit me.”

You cheer, and Eddie hears the rustling of grocery bags on your end as you speak, “My manager gave me a shit ton of holiday chocolates she had left over, and well, I was wondering if you’d like to drown yourself in sugar with me?”

Eddie softly laughs, folding his arm to rest his hand on his tummy as he nods, forgetting you can’t see. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

The drive from your flat to Eddie’s is typically around twenty minutes, but with the benefit of it being nearly midnight and most normal people being in bed by now, you’re knocking on Eddie’s door in just a little under twelve minutes.

Eddie opens the door to let you in and immediately just wants to kiss you. You’re dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, loose pajama pants with cute little ducks printed on them, and fluffy house slippers. You grin up at Eddie as you lift a bag full of candy, “I come bearing gifts!”

Eddie had been exhausted all day, but now that he’s had two handfuls of sugary treats, he’s ready to run a fucking marathon.

He’s sucking on a sour apple jawbreaker and watching some shitty romcom with Banshee curled in his lap when he feels your head softly drop onto his shoulder. He glances down at you and sees the soft flutter of your eyes, “Are you tired? You can take my bed.” He offers.

You tilt your head to blink up at him tiredly, “Will you come with me?”

And well, Eddie was originally going to take the couch, but you’re looking up at him with these cute, bleary eyes, and Eddie can’t even imagine saying no. So, he shuts his TV off, makes a mental note to clean up the candy wrappers sometime tomorrow, and lets you drag him off to his room.

Banshee decided to take advantage of the new space on the couch and sprawl out, so Eddie doesn’t have to worry about asking if you’re okay with her cuddling up on his bed like she usually does.

Eddie doesn’t do this very often— sleep with other people in his bed, he means. And sure, he’s had partners before that would stay the night here and there, but he hasn’t had that in over a year now, so it’s safe to say that Eddie’s a little bit nervous.

He doesn’t know if you want to be close, but considering how cuddly you are on a daily basis, he’s not surprised when you press yourself into his side with a content sigh, snuggling deeper into the warm covers. He turns, shifting to wrap his arms around your frame, trying his best to ignore the fast beating of his heart in his chest— but that’s not the main issue. The bigger problem is— “Eddie? Are you hard?”

Shit.

God, this is awful. Nothing even remotely sexual happened, and Eddie’s popping a boner and practically stabbing your stomach. Fuck, you probably think he’s a perv now. Nice going.

“No.”

It falls silent for a moment, and Eddie can feel the quiver of your body as you giggle into his shoulder. He smiles, an embarrassed blush rising over her cheeks as he lifts a hand to palm at his eye, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You turn in Eddie’s arm, pressing a hand to Eddie’s shoulder to lay him on his back. You stay lying by his side, body pressed to him, head resting on his shoulder. You nose at the curly strands of hair on Eddie’s neck, and your hand runs down his torso, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. “O-oh. No, you don’t need to, princess.” Eddie says, yet his voice is shaky and holds anticipation as you drag your nails through the coarse hair leading to his cock.

“I want to. Please?” You ask. And you’re so good, so obedient, not touching Eddie’s cock until he swallows and nods his head yes. You wriggle, like a happy pup that got a treat, and your hand sinks lower, wrapping around the thick of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie’s breath hitches, sinking into the feeling of your warm hand stroking up his cock, your thumb running over his leaking tip. Eddie curses, hips twitching up into your hold, and you press a kiss to his jaw, and Eddie nearly bursts into stars.

You press another kiss to his jaw, soft and sweet, and Eddie slinks an arm around you, sinking his hands into your hair and shakily breathing. “You keep kissing me like that, and I’m gonna— fuck.”

And it’s so pathetic; you’ve only had your hand down his pants for less than five minutes, and Eddie’s quivering like a virgin having their first time. God, this is so embarrassing.

You kiss Eddie once more, “Wait, wait. Not yet.”

And then you shuffle away from Eddie, and he’s frowning because he feels cold without you snuggled against him. But then you’re sinking underneath the covers, and Eddie’s cursing, “W-what are you doing, honey?”

He lifts the covers just as you wriggle your way between his legs and hook your fingers over the band of his sweats. You peel his sweats away, mouth opening like a hungry lion when Eddie’s cock pops out. You push the front band of his sweats to catch just below his balls, and Eddie’s hips squirm from the pressure making you giggle when his cock twitches.

You loop your fingers around his cock, twisting up on a long stroke, “Did I ever tell you how pretty your cock is, Eddie?”

Jesus Christ.

Eddie breathes shakily through his nose, tummy quivering as your gaze flickers; he shakes his head no. Eddie sinks a hand to pet your hair back, smiling when you nuzzle into his touch, letting your lips brush against his tip, “You think it’s pretty, baby?” He asks.

You nod, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth to catch the pearl of pre-cum dripping from his tip. You don’t say anything else as you lean forward and wrap your mouth around him, languidly taking him as far as you want and sucking him for all he’s worth.

Eddie’s head drops back then, his entire body just losing strength to do anything as you slowly fuck your mouth over him. The blanket falls over you then, and Eddie curses, scrambling to push it back over your head so you don’t, like, suffocate on his cock.

And Eddie was already close before, so it doesn’t take long for him to start cursing and warning you that he’s gonna cum. Before he knows it, he’s emptying himself into the warm cavern of your mouth, soft mixes of curses and your name tumbling from his mouth as you happily take every last drop.

You pull off of him with a small pop, licking up the small remnants of cum that drool down his cock. Eddie feels weightless now; the effects of sugar are long gone now that you practically sucked his soul through his dick. You tuck Eddie back into his pants, and as if you couldn’t get any cuter, any sweeter, you press a gentle kiss to Eddie’s tummy right where the waistband sits.

Eddie’s got a loopy grin on his face when you crawl back up to snuggle back into his side, mumbling something about how you love licking his cock. Eddie nearly dies, by the way.

He thinks he’s in love with you, maybe.

You breathe in deep, draping an arm across Eddie’s tummy and slinking your leg between his, and you sigh all sleepy and cute as you say, “G’night, Eddie.”

Yeah. Eddie’s definitely in love with you.

Weeks go by as you and Eddie become thick as thieves.

You carry on with your nightly calls, obviously, but now there’s a healthy mix of one of you going to the other's home and crashing there for the night, then that bleeds into the next day where you just spend hours with each other doing fuck all.

Eddie just likes being around you. You don’t have to be doing anything particularly fun or sexual; no, Eddie just enjoys your company. And most times, you and Eddie will be doing your separate little activities— you reading or watching a movie while Eddie writes up new campaign ideas for Dustin— and you will reach out to twirl a strand of Eddie’s hair around your knuckle and gently tug or poke your finger into his cheek where his dimples reside and Eddie just melts.

Most of the time, you’re only doing it for your peace of mind (Eddie knows because you told him when he asked), but something tells him maybe you actually have something to say when you poke Eddie’s cheek for the third time.

He turns to you, brows raised and hiding beneath his bangs that so badly need a trim, “Yes, doll?”

You smile now that his attention is on you, and you shift, careful not to wake Banshee in your lap from your movements. Eddie thinks Banshee might like you more than she likes him, which is just downright traitorous, considering Eddie’s the one who feeds her and keeps a roof over her head. He doesn’t really blame the cat, though.

“What are you doing on Saturday?” You ask.

Eddie hums, closing his notebook and leaning back into his couch, “This Saturday?”

You nod, and Eddie shrugs, lips pouting as he speaks, “Nothing, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

You sigh heavily, sinking into the couch as you gently pet Banshee behind her ear, “We have an event for work, and I was just wondering if you would maybe wanna tag along?”

Eddie’s head tips in interest, “Sure. Is it, like, fancy dress shit?” He asks. Eddie thinks he has a tux somewhere deep in the trenches of his closet. Probably the one he wore to Wayne's wedding two years ago; he hopes he still fits.

You shrug, “Eh, nothing too fancy schmancy. Slacks and a nice shirt will do,” You mindlessly watch the television, gently rubbing Banshee’s ear between your fingers. “That I can do, princess. But uh,” Eddie pauses, “You don’t seem too ecstatic about this.” He points out.

You shrug, glancing over at Eddie, and Eddie wants to kiss your pouty lips because you look adorable swallowed up in a throw blanket with sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “S’cause I’m not,” You huff, “I hate those ignorant assholes— don’t get me wrong, some of them are good friends of mine! But most of them are just…” You make a face and roll your eyes, and Eddie softly laughs. You let your head lazily turn to gaze at him, “Don says I have to go, though. So I figured I may as well drag someone I actually enjoy being around.” You softly smile.

Eddie’s heart flutters and grows three times the size of his body.

Saturday night comes quicker than most, and Eddie spends nearly an hour digging through his closet. By the time Eddie finds a nice enough shirt to pair with his neatly ironed (to Eddie’s standard, which is probably not very high) slacks, he’s running behind and starts to stress that he won’t pick you up on time, and he’s just totally made an ass of himself.

It’s five o’clock when Eddie gets to your flat, and when he knocks on your door, he’s out of breath because he smokes more than a godman grill, and he skipped every other step on the staircase to get there quicker. He’s thinking of a million ways to apologize for being late, and he thinks he has it right when you open the door, but then— “Oh. Hey Eds! You’re early!”

Eddie huffs, nearly doubling over in exhaustion because he seriously needs to quit smoking, “Wha– early?”

You hold the door open for Eddie to step in and nod. You’re in a white fluffy robe with house boots on, and your hair is tied back, so you have a clear canvas to work with for your makeup. “Yeah, it starts at seven.”

And, oh, what the fuck? Here Eddie was stressing and thinking he’d completely ruined his chances with you because he decided to be an asshat and lose track of time on his video games, but in reality, he’s nearly two hours early?!

“Oh, but now you can help me pick a dress. Come on.”

No, Eddie has zero complaints, actually. He’s grateful that he’s timely challenged, he thinks as you drag him toward your room.

Eddie spends the next thirty minutes or so seated at the foot of your bed, judging whichever dresses you surprise him with from out of your closet.

It isn’t easy to give a solid answer because, well, you look good in all of them. And Eddie’s not even being biased because he’s got a sickening crush on you— no, you genuinely look amazing in every dress.

“Eddie, you’ve said yes to all of them.” You huff. “Because they all look good!” Eddie exclaims.

You frown, resting your hands on your hips and tilting your head at him. Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know why you’re upset with me when it’s technically your fault.” He points out, to which you roll your eyes and jokingly throw a dress at his face.

It takes a while for you to decide; by the time you’ve figured it out, there’s about forty minutes until the event begins.

The dress you landed on is evil, to say the least.

It’s a black puffy babydoll-style dress, except instead of a poofy top half, it’s tight fitting and pushes your chest up to sit nice and pretty, and the straps are thin, and Eddie thinks about the sound you’d make if he just reached out and teasingly snapped it against your skin. Wants to coo when you squirm and mewl and press yourself into him.

And the dress is so short, long enough to cover everything, but you wouldn’t have to bend over very far to flash a lucky person, and the sight of your thighs makes Eddie’s head spin.

He doesn’t know where the courage comes from because Eddie is anything but bold when it comes to people he has ridiculous crushes on, but Eddie couldn’t help himself, watching you bent over the sink as you do your last touch-ups to your makeup, the way your silky thighs rub against one another when you shift to get closer to the mirror— Eddie didn’t stand a chance.

He’s behind you before he knows it, and you’re smiling at him through the mirror, “Almost done, promise.” You say.

Eddie lets his hand slink around your waist, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck, brown eyes fluttering up to hold your gaze through the glass as he kisses your skin before playfully nipping at you. You squeal, curling away from him, and he smiles as you push at him. “You’re cute,” Eddie softly says, and he grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip when you shy away from his gaze, “So pretty.” He adds.

Eddie turns you to face him as he presses you against the bathroom sink. He seeks your lips, but you pout and shake your head, “My lipgloss.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to catch any of the sticky application before sinking to his knees, hands gentle and greedy as they caress your thighs.

Eddie leans forward to kiss the inside of your knee, “Gonna let me taste you, honey?” He hums, leaning in the press a kiss further up the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitches, legs subconsciously spreading wider to accommodate Eddie. Your nails dig into the countertop as you shakily breathe, “W-we’re gonna be late,” You weakly say as Eddie lets his tongue draw shapes in your skin. Eddie hums, sucking the fat of your thigh into his mouth before leaving with a pop, lips brushing against your hot skin as he says, “I’ll be quick. Promise.”

He doesn’t wait for your response as he coasts his hands up your thighs to loop his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down your legs and helping you step out of them.

Eddie doesn’t waste time then; he kisses a sloppy wet trail up the inside of your thigh, fingers digging into the fat of your skin and helping you spread open for him so he can nuzzle his head beneath the fluffy tulle of your dress and begin his task of devouring you. You’re wet, dripping, and throbbing for Eddie’s tongue, and this is the third time that Eddie has found himself licking into you, and god, it never gets fucking old.

The sounds you make, the way you writhe, the tiny gasps you give, and then the way your cunt pulses around his tongue— it’s the pinnacle of Eddie’s night, he already knows.

“E-Eddie— oh,” Your breathy whine makes Eddie stuff his face further into your pussy, nose brushing against your clit as he thrusts his tongue into you, your hands scrambling down to sink into Eddie’s hair and tug.

And it took Eddie longer than he’d like to admit to get his hair slicked into the neat bun he’s sporting, but with his tongue plunged deep inside of you and your pretty moans filling his ears, Eddie can’t seem to care that you’re definitely messing up his hard work.

Eddie could spend eternity here, down on his knees, under the dress of your skirt, lapping at your pussy like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. And sure, Eddie makes this conclusion, like, every single time he finds himself between your legs, but can you blame him? You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of dealing with.

You lift a leg to hook over Eddie’s shoulder, the heel of your foot pressing into his shoulder blade and pushing a moan from the depths of Eddie’s chest as he snuggles deeper into you, licking and sucking and nipping.

“S-so close…” You whimper, thighs beginning to quiver on each side of Eddie’s head. He fixes his grip on your hips because Eddie wouldn’t dream of letting you fall in his presence, and you’re standing on your tiptoes when you fumble over the edge, crying out for Eddie as you soak his tongue.

Eddie’s moaning into you, fingers massaging and caressing the thick parts of your hips and thighs as he continues working you through your orgasm. You’re twitching and heavily breathing when Eddie parts his mouth from your slick folds, strings of arousal and spit snapping and falling to his chin. God, it makes Eddie ache in his pants.

He presses sweet and sticky kisses to the insides of your thighs, savoring every moment he has here, breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you, hearing you. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that he looks like a madman when he brings his head out from under your dress, and you giggle, pressing your hand to your lips.

Eddie wants to hear that noise on repeat. Put his headphones on and, like, clean his house or something. Let your giggles play on a constant loop until they’re engrained into the grooves of his brain so he never has to go a second without hearing them.

“What?” Eddie smiles, hands still under your dress and soothingly squeezing the shaky muscles of your thighs. Your eyes are glazed from pleasure, and you look warm as you speak, “I– your hair,” You laugh. You press the wispy curls of Eddie’s bangs back, “I’m so sorry. It looked so nice, and I messed it up.” You happily frown.

Eddie huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your knee and shaking his head, “That’s okay,” He responds, reaching over for your panties to help you slip them back on. “It was for a good cause.” He winks.

Eddie doesn’t frequent fancy parties.

The fanciest event Eddie’s ever been to was a masquerade-themed dinner that he and Jeff snuck into because there were rumors of a big hit producer being there, which, big fucking shocker, they never found him since everyone was in a fucking mask. It was a waste of time, but at least they ate like kings that night.

Besides that, Eddie doesn’t go to fancy places— it’s just not his kind of scene. And it’s not like the event you’ve brought him to tonight is, like, Buckingham Palace tier, but everyone here looks like a million bucks and up, and Eddie’s not quite sure he’s up to that standard.

He would be more worried if you weren’t clinging to him like a koala bear and keeping him in light conversation.

You introduced Eddie to a few of your industry friends, and one or two of them even remembered Eddie from the films he’d done with you, which, Eddie doesn’t know why, but his head grew three times bigger in size from that. And for the most part, you keep to Eddie’s side, pointing out different people from across the room and telling him the lore behind them and whatnot as you share a plate of snacks.

And you love grapes, apparently, because Eddie’s had to get up and refill on them about three times now. “Do you want more?” Eddie asks when he realizes you’re almost done. You glance at him with a small smile as you nod, “I’ll get it this time, though. I want to try some of the cheese.”

So, Eddie nods and keeps an eye on you until the crowd obstructs his view. He busies himself with watching the room, tries to see if he can pick out anyone from any pornos he’s watched before he realizes that’s fucking weird and cringes at himself for being a perv. He finishes his glass of champagne, which Eddie isn’t a champagne guy, but it was either that or whiskey, and Eddie would rather not get shitfaced tonight.

And what’s taking you so long? You’ve been gone for a while now, and Eddie had first thought you maybe made a quick stop at the restrooms, but it’s been more than enough time, and he misses you (as fucking sappy as that is), so he gets up and makes his way to the food bar.

He’s got his empty flute in one hand and the other in his pocket, brown eyes softly scanning the room as he walks. And then he spots you, near the food where you said you’d be, with some guy talking to you, but something isn’t right.

Eddie’s spent enough time with you now to be able to tell when you’re feeling uneasy just by the way you anxiously drag your nail against the length of your thumb, the way your eyes dart around, or the tense pull of your shoulders.

Your gaze lands on Eddie, and your eyes soften, and Eddie doesn’t even have to think twice before he walks over.

The man's back is facing Eddie, so he doesn’t see the curly-headed boy until he steps around and slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you close with a soft smile, “Been looking for you, sweets.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as you sink into him.

“Mm, just catching up with..a friend.”

Eddie doesn’t miss the pause. He looks over to the man you’d been talking to, and you take a breath, “Eddie, this is Chris, a coworker.” You introduce the man. And Eddie remembers that name; he thinks he remembers seeing it on the script of the last film you and Eddie did together— the one where you’d asked Eddie to take over because the other guy was an asshole.

Chris reaches out a hand, “Chris. You must be a good friend of hers?”

Eddie doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like that he doesn’t refer to you by your name, or the smug grin on his face, or the sly tone in his voice when he says it.

And Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, okay. He doesn’t know why the words fly out of his mouth or why he didn’t, like, think it through, but suddenly, Eddie’s introducing himself as your boyfriend. Which, Eddie is not your boyfriend. And you’re not his girlfriend.

Eddie would love to be your boyfriend, and he’d love for you to be his girlfriend, but— but you’re not. So, Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, but he does, and god, it’s comedic how the guy's face falls. Eddie can feel your gaze on him, and he panics a little because what if Eddie just crossed the line big time?

Chris’s gaze flickers to you, and his brows raise as you look at him, “So, I take it this is why you’re only doing solo content now?”

Which, fucking gross. That’s definitely none of this meathead guy's business! So what if you’re making solo content only? And why does he know, and why does he care? God, this guy’s a creep.

But also… why are you only doing solo content? Eddie can’t help but wonder. Did something happen? Was it this asshole's fault? Eddie will kill him if he has anything to do with it. You and Eddie have become so close; you tell each other everything about everything, so why didn’t you tell him about this? It’s not a big deal or whatever, but—

“Does it matter?” Shit, Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud.

You’re both looking at Eddie in shock, and Eddie just blinks and waits for an answer.

You take in a deep breath, arm squeezing around Eddie’s as you answer— since this guy can’t take a fucking hint, “Yeah, actually, it is. Just didn’t feel right.” You shrug.

The guy nods, pursing his lips together, “Fair enough. Well, if that ever changes, you know where to find me.” He winks before turning around and leaving. Eddie cringes, and he almost steps forward to say something, to tell him to fuck off somewhere, but your grip tightens around his arms, and Eddie understands that you just want the conversation to be over.

Eddie’s quickly turning his attention to you, though, when you press yourself into his side, “Thank you.” You sweetly say.

Eddie nods, a warm hand reaching up to squeeze your hand that's resting over his bicep, “Don’t sweat it, princess. That guy’s a douche.” And you huff, nodding your head, “Yeah. You definitely scared him, though. It was pretty hot.”

Eddie tries not to let that get to his head.

He fails.

The rest of the night goes well with fewer dickhead run-ins and more grapes, and Eddie is more than Elated when you say it’s time to go.

The ride home is pleasant, and you’ve been extra cuddly all night, so Eddie’s heart is practically the size of Texas when you bring his hand into your lap and slink your fingers together. You’re spending the night, so Eddie’s kind of excited to get in bed and snuggle until you both pass out— but then Eddie’s thrown in for a loop when you both get under his covers.

Banshee is busy in her bakery down at the foot of the bed, kneading little biscuits in preparation for her sleep, and you’re fresh-faced and wrapped in one of Eddie’s shirts when you look over at him with a teasing look, “So,” you start, “You’re my boyfriend.”

Eddie blinks at you, wishing the bed would just let him sink in and become one with the mattress. “Oh god,” He groans, pressing his hands to his face, “I’m sorry, it just came out! That guy was being a dick, and it was the first thing that I thought of, and— god, I’m sorry.” He drags his hands over his face and shoots you an empathetic look. “You can totally, like, kick me in the nuts.”

And Eddie kind of braces himself for you to chew him out or something; tell him he’s a weirdo, and he’ll never in a million years get to call himself your boyfriend because you’re way out of his league. But then you giggle.

And it’s not the teasing ‘get a load of this loser’ giggle— no, it’s your sweet, kind, and adoring giggle.

“No, no. I was… I was wondering when you would ask, actually.”

Eddie’s never turned his head so fast. He thinks he imagined you saying it, like, maybe he drank too much champagne even though he literally only had less than two full glasses the entire night. “Huh? I– w-what do you mean?” Eddie gapes. “Like… like, ask you to be my girlfriend?”

And you’re so cute as you shyly nod, glancing at Eddie with this expectant gaze.

“Shit, well uh, I-I wanted to ask you in like a bigger way. Like flowers and shit because I… well, I really like you, and it’s what you deserve and—”

You cut Eddie off with a laugh and scoot closer to him, and if Eddie’s heart beats any faster, he might die. “Eddie,” You lowly and softly say, holding his gaze. Eddie nods, eyes darting down to your lips as he holds his breath. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Shit, Eddie’s never said yes so quickly in his life.

————

a/n: HELLOOO! if you have made it to the end of this awfully long baby i am so thankful and appreciative of you, these two are my babies so I hope you enjoyed them as much as I've enjoyed my time with them <3 as always, thank u for reading and being here, i love and appreciate any feedback, ILYSM MWAH <3

————

cutie teeny taglist: @vol2eddie @paleidiot @hideoutside

#i am so happy u enjoyed it bestie🥺😭#crying tears of joy

3K notes · View notes

kaitsawamura · 3 years ago

Text

somewhere in between

; summary

After a night of drinks with coworkers, they find out you’re a virgin. That “they” includes Daichi Sawamura, the biggest fat crush you’ve had in a long time. But an interesting turn of events tells you the feeling might be mutual and lends you an opportunity that you never would have hoped for in a million years. Will you take it?

; stats

Pairing: Coworker!Daichi Sawamura x Virgin!Reader (she/her)

Rating: M for MATURE, 18+ only minors do not interact

Content Warnings: virginity, loss of virginity, social alcohol consumption

Tags: semi-proofread because once I finished I didn't want to wait and only skimmed :crine:, friends to lovers, virgin reader, discovered pining, mutual attraction, lots of fluff, Daichi and Reader are under the influence of a couple drinks, oral (f receiving), sex with a condom, feeling completely and utterly safe with someone, it's more about that than the smut, goofy cute giggles about body parts

Word Count: 6837 (per AO3)

; links

Better Than Fiction Collab: This piece is part of a collaboration! All the other wonderful pieces written by talented authors can be found by clicking on the link.

AO3 Version

HQ Masterlist

; author’s note

Beware folks, this is really really really self-insert and self-indulgent. However, I think sprinkling in a little of my real life at the beginning of this fic is going to be relatable for a lot of people? Maybe? The theme of this collab to me, means sex that’s about more than just hot and heavy blacked-out vision, etc, etc. It’s about the safety and the knowing so I tried to play really heavy on that. This is my first Daichi fic and I’m so nervous because I love him so much and I don’t want to fuck this up lmaooooo. HE’S MY HUSBAND. ANYWAY as always, I hope y’all enjoy!

“Wait, really? You’ve never even been kissed?” You’re really regretting finally giving in to after hours drinks with your new coworkers. Well, new is a relative term. You’ve been working at the agency for about a year now. So, not new. But this feels like a new side of them that you haven’t seen before. It’s a fun side, sure, but a side that doesn’t really appeal to you all that often. And now you’re remembering why; it’s bubbling to the surface, ruining the buzz that should have you feeling warm and happy and included.

It’s not like admitting you’re a virgin bothers you; it’s something you’ve been okay with since high school. It’s something you’ve become more okay with as you’ve gotten older. Everyone lives at their own pace, right? You’re always the first to preach it because it’s true. It’s perfectly fine to have had sex by your age and perfectly fine to have not had sex by your age. But sometimes, you’re around someone who gets to that inevitable line of questioning: you’ve never been on a date?! You’ve never held someone’s hand?! You’ve never been kissed?! And in your experience, the questions are never asked with ill intent. But sometimes… sometimes they hurt.

Because they make you wonder for a split second if there’s something wrong with you. They make you wonder if you have false confidence. If you’re not desirable. Not worthy of being wanted, even if only in a physical way.

And unfortunately for you, right now is one of those instances. The heat is sitting heavy in your cheeks along with the alcohol. The sensation is not eased when you take another sip of your drink and over the rim of your glass see Daichi’s eyes on yours.

Daichi Sawamura. He’s arguably, easily, the hottest person here. At the bar. At your work. In the town, but you’re a little biased. You get to see his face five days a week. You get to see his personality in action five days a week. It’s what makes his strong chin and wide shoulders, his barrel chest and massive thighs, his deep brown eyes and genuine smile all the more attractive. He’s a workhorse because he loves what he does and he’s good at it. He’s kind and steady and reliable. Always encouraging others. You’re pretty sure he’s the glue who holds everyone together.

He was easy to befriend. The first one who welcomed you wholeheartedly to the agency. The one who made sure you understood how things worked from the filing system to the second-hand espresso machine in the lunch room that sometimes had to be restarted to be used. He’d checked in with you everyday for at least the first three weeks and when he was satisfied that you’d had the hang of things, he’d made a point of taking the same lunch break as you so you had a familiar face to hang out with. He was the only one that had remembered your birthday.

You set your glass down a little harder than you mean to as you shrug your shoulders and avert your eyes from Daichi back in Ryū’s direction. “Nope, never been kissed. It’s not that big of a deal. It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen.” He sits back into the booth, face a little incredulous.

“Isn’t that kind of a cop out? If you want something, ya gotta go for it! Take Daichi, for instance. He practically fought tooth and nail to partner with you on that last project. Something about how you two were the best suited for it. Which wasn’t exactly a lie but…” He trails off when he catches sight of Daichi glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. You feel the heat from your cheeks burst low in your belly, burst from heat into swooping butterflies. Daichi had insisted on working the project with you? It made sense but it also made sense for him to have partnered with at least two other people in the office. Ryū lets out a breath through pursed lips. “And that’s the end of the line for me, folks. I sense I’ve made some mistake. This is where I say ‘Well, look at the time! I better be going!’ and exit before I make myself look like an even bigger ass.”

Now it’s your turn to look incredulous as you glance between him and the three other people who are silent but on the verge of giggling. Your turn to look incredulous when you set your eyes back on Daichi and you can see that he’s blushing in the low light of the bar. It has your bloody running syrupy in your veins. You watch as he stands to let Ryū out and then the other three as they quickly decide they better get going too. It’s a Friday night but everyone has plans for their Saturday. You stand as well, slipping your arms into your jacket and heading to the front to pay your portion of the tab.

“Uh, mind if I cover this one?” You turn to Daichi, intent on insisting that it’s fine, you’ve got it but when you see the smile on his face, the one that says he’s sorry for the way the night turned, you offer him a small smile back and step aside as he swipes his credit card. “Hey, I’m sorry about tonight. I don’t think Ryū was trying to be a dick.” You laugh, shaking your head as the two of you walk outside. There’s a light snowfall; you mentally chide yourself for not leaving earlier. Your old car is gonna have a field day trying to start in this weather. At least you were wearing a jacket and had a blanket in the trunk in case you had to sit there for a minute.

“Oh, I know he’s not. Ryū wouldn’t hurt a fly, I know that. I just… It’s really, really okay, right? But sometimes being reminded of the fact that I’m 29 and still a virgin feels a tad defeating, ya know?” Daichi’s watching you, a soft expression on his face that you can’t place but one that makes you feel as if you’re being laid bare. It’s a feeling you normally wouldn’t like but with Daichi, you can’t help but feel safe in being known. “It’s whatever, I’m just being a baby. It’s probably the alcohol, I don’t really drink. I did have fun tonight though! I might even consider doing it again sometime.” You smirk, pulling your keys out of your bag. “Will you take an Uber?” Daichi shakes his head before stuffing his hands in his coat pocket as he walks with you to your car.

“Nah, I live within walking distance. And, uh, for the record. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re being a baby at all.” He rubs his hand over the back of his neck; the movement has his scent wafting to you through the cold air, faintly musky and smelling of expensive cologne. You have to stop yourself from leaning in to catch a bigger pull of it. Another thing about him that puts you at ease.

“Thanks, Daichi. You’re really sweet. I better get going.” You feel something pulling at the inside of you, something near panic but a good kind of panic like you’re about to skydive. You turn back to him and grab his hand. It’s warm and large and when he doesn’t pull away, it gives you more confidence to keep going. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you insisted on working on the last project with me.” You look up at him, feeling the snowflakes catching fluffy on your eyelids as your breath comes out in a small puff. He grins and it’s like there’s a 1000 watt light bulb standing right in front of you. When Daichi smiles, he smiles with his whole face, all the way through to his dimples and squinted eyes. It makes your heart pound and your chest fill with a balloon fit to burst.

“Hey, I know you’ve talked before about how much you like breakfast. There’s a new little place nearby if you want to try it out sometime. I’ve been meaning to check it out for a while.” You haven’t dropped his hand and he hasn’t moved away and all of a sudden you can’t quite feel the cold as acutely as you had just a moment before. You nod and back up a couple steps towards your car.

“You free tomorrow?” The snow starts coming down harder when he nods. He stands there, snow dusting his dark brown hair and you have to suppress another urge, this time to brush it from his head. “Daichi, you wanna a ride to your place?” You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your throat as he dashes to the passenger side of your car and you both hop in. You put your keys in the ignition and crank. Your car sputters, revs, but stays off. You feel your stomach drop. Please. You turn the key again, same thing. “Shit. Um. What time is it?” Daichi glances at his phone.

“12:45. I’m guessing there’s not gonna be any towing companies open. Does this happen a lot?” He’s looking at you with concern; you know it’s not pity but it still curdles in your stomach the same way.

“I mean. Yeah. It’s an old car. I’m sorry, I guess I can’t give you a ride home. I’ll have to call my sister to give me a ride to my place. Hopefully she’s awake. I might have to take a rain check for tomorwoow too… What?” You hadn’t noticed until just now how much room he was taking up in your car but now you’re looking at Daichi and how he’s watching you mumble to yourself and how his broad shoulders cover the expanse of your passenger seat. You can’t put a finger on the expression on his face but his lips are softly parted and he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing he can see at that moment.

“Sorry, it’s nothing. Just a trick of the light. Look, I don’t want to be too forward but my apartment’s a ten minute walk from here. My couch has a foldout bed that’s not too bad. We could call a tow truck after breakfast tomorrow.” You don’t realize how far he’s leaned in your direction until he’s leaning back, intentionally giving you space, you think. “But it’s entirely up to you. I can wait here until your sister picks you up if you’d rather still call her.”

You sit back too and stare out your windshield. The steam from your combined breaths is already creating fog on the glass. There’s a thumping deep in your chest that you really want to ignore but you can’t. The combination of this and the way your stomach is flipping wildly in your abdomen is making you queasy. You really, really want to say yes to his apartment. But in light of tonight’s conversation, nerves are making it a little harder for you to say yes. God, you really want to say yes.

“I mean… if it’s not too much trouble that would be great. I really don’t want to impose though, I can totally call my sister!” Again he’s watching you; you can feel your words coming out faster and your voice pitching upwards. You’re a little too used to not wanting to be an imposition and he knows it, can see it written as plain as day across your face. He reaches across to you, places a stilling hand on your arm.

“Who taught you that accepting an offer is an imposition? I wanna have a little chat with them.” His words catch you off guard and eyes are intense in the small space of your car. But they soften around the edges the longer you’re silent, stunned into it. He clears his throat and smiles then. “It’s no trouble at all, seriously. Do you have a paper and pen? We can leave a note on the dash in case people are wondering about it before we get down here in the morning.” You nod, running his words over in your head as you dig through your bag. All you have is your notebook so you tear a page from the back and write a quick “too late for towing, will be back first thing in the morning” with your number looped across the bottom.

Daichi takes it from you, his fingers brushing your hand as he takes the paper. “I’ll stick it under the wiper and then we can start walking?”

“Sounds good.” Your head spins a little as you get out of your car and lock it. You’re going home with Daichi. There’s no preordained rule that says you have to sleep with him but even going back to his place now that there’s something out in the open between the two of you has notes from a song you didn’t know existed ringing clean and tripping bright in your blood. Everything suddenly seems hazy and in focus all at once as if something thicker than blood ran through your veins.

When he meets you on the sidewalk and walks close to you, that feeling doesn’t go away. When snow starts catching in your hair and his, and you can feel time moving more slowly in this weird liminal space, that feeling doesn’t go away. When he points out an apartment window a few stories up as you walk where you can see the residents already have their Christmas tree up, that feeling doesn’t go away. It definitely doesn’t go away when you slip a little on some ice and Daichi grabs you before you fall and instead of letting go, you end up holding on to him for dear life. The feeling doesn’t go away when you blink and you’re at his apartment, a little brownstone complex, and he guides you through his door with a hand at the small of your back.

The lights bloom on gradually when he flips the switch by the front door, bathing everything in a low warm glow. You feel sleep heavy in your limbs but something else buzzes behind your eyes when Daichi trails behind you into his living room. A big leather couch with throw blankets; a huge coffee table with wood legs and an inlaid glass top. There’s a couple of large books on it and a couple paperbacks too. Some coasters. A string of lights up over the glass doors leading to a small balcony outside. A darkened hallway with pictures you can’t make out on the wall. His kitchen tucked into the corner on your right. It smells like cinnamon.

You turn to him, a grin large on your face. “Are those cinnamon pine cones I smell?” Somehow you are both surprised and not at the same time. Surprised because Daichi is so different from a lot of people you’ve met, guys in particular. You’re also not surprised for the exact same reason, because it is Daichi. He’s chuckling from where he’s standing at the fridge. He hands you a cold bottle of water that you gulp down immediately.

“There was a stand selling them at the corner the other day. They smelled good, okay?” He’s laughing some more as he finishes his own water and makes his way to the coffee table. You pretend to be looking at some pictures on the wall but really you’re watching him pull the table away from the couch and the way his whole body works together while he does. This is dangerous, you realize. Not in a bad way but in a way that nearly knocks the breath from your lungs. You have a huge crush on your coworker and everything about how this night is going is not helping.

“Daichi, I hate to bother you for anything else but can you direct me to the restroom?” Maybe splashing some water on your face, washing the makeup off will help the buzzing in your head. He sends you down the hallway while he ducks in his room. The small space is no less tidy than the rest of the apartment; the same wood floor, a plush rug, white countertops and a spotless mirror. You glance through the couple bottles displayed neatly next to the sink, look at what toothpaste he uses, what face wash and moisturizer. It feels strange to be learning all these things about him. Strange and somehow right. You do splash some water on your face and it does help you feel a little better until the feeling of a somewhat clean face makes you realize that the rest of you still has the day’s grime settled on your clothes and skin. It’s fine; you’ve gone a night without your full shower routine before. This won’t be any different.

“Hey, if you wanna take a shower that’s totally fine with me!” Daichi’s voice rumbles from the other side of the door but you can hear the pause so you open it; he’s standing there holding a big old shirt and long pajama pants with red checkers. You push the thought away that they’re some other girl’s but you realize maybe you didn’t hide the thought so well because something dawns on his face as he quickly adds “Oh! They’re my little sister’s! They’re clean, I just thought maybe you wouldn’t want to sleep in jeans. She left them here by accident the last time she visited and I think they’ll be comfortable.”

“What about your shower?” He shrugs, explains he took one that morning. You thank him and once you find the extra towels he’s told you are in the cupboard above the toilet, you get in and thank your lucky stars. You didn’t glance at your phone to see the time but you knew it had to be going on 1:30 by now. Thank god it’s a Saturday. It would have been killer for you both to have to be at work by 8 if it had been a weekday.

The warm water helps you feel a lot more human as does the fact that Daichi has a trustworthy face wash in the shower. When you step out and dry off, put the pajamas on that smell faintly of a floral perfume, you’re pretty sure you might fall asleep on the spot. But you push past it, fold your clothes up for tomorrow and head back out to the living room. The kitchen light is back off but a smaller one next to the couch has replaced it; you watch quietly from the hallway as Daichi unfolds a blanket and lays it out on the sofa bed. Watch him as he places one down to lay on and one to cover up with and how he lays out an extra two pillows. There's fresh water already on the coffee table next to the couch and a phone charger has been plugged in near it as well. You wonder absently how he came to be so domestic or if it was just that he was… good.

He notices you standing there, in the shadow of the hallway, and smiles. It’s a small one this time, warm, familiar. “I hope it’s comfortable enough. Akari said it was so I have to trust she wasn’t fibbing.” He’s got on a white t-shirt, gray sweatpants. He watches you, gone even softer around the edges from the beer and time of night. You think, maybe softer around the edges because you’re standing here in his living room. And something about the way his cheeks dust with pink as you watch him back has your feet propelling you forward, more into his space.

Maybe it’s stupid but for a moment, you’re dumbstruck. All the memories you have of him come flowing through your brain, like shooting stars across a night sky. How he was captain of his high school volleyball team and Ryū had piped in with that he was the best one there was. How he had a framed picture of his family at the office. The countless times he’d dropped a latte on your desk just the way you liked it from the coffee shop on the corner. All the times you’d seen him hold doors open for people when he didn’t realize someone was watching. The way he spoke to every single client, every person he came in contact with. As if they were, at that moment, the only person to exist in the world. He gave his full attention, nothing less. Exactly how he was giving you his full attention now. The look in his eye was spurring you on, it had to be. You had (obviously) never done anything close to this in your life. You were nervous. But you were sure.

He’s looking at you, back and forth between your eyes; he’s moving slow when he steps in to meet you, as if he might scare an animal. And if it had been anyone else, you think you would be. One of his hands moves to your face, brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. His thumb lingers on your cheek; you lean in to the strength and safety of his hand. He leans forward, lips near your ear. “I… I really wanna kiss you. Can I kiss you?” You’re nodding against the pulse of his wrist before any other part of you, mind or body, can catch up.

It’s not like what you thought it would be, when his lips meet yours. There’s no cataclysmic shift of the earth. There’s not even what you would think is a spark. But he moves in closer to you and brings his other hand up so he’s cradling your face as he kisses you and all you can think is safe. You feel safe to lean into him and explore what it means to be held like this, to be kissed like this. You feel safe to reach one hand into his hair, slip your fingers through the thickness of it, safe to reach the other up to his chest.

You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure if you’re doing it right but you can’t even waste a thought on caring really. Your body feels heavy and your skin is only getting hotter by the minute. Your breathing is heavy and when you shift a bit to move closer, you can feel the outline of Daichi’s cock through his sweatpants. It has heat slicing through your belly and you groan. He releases a sharp short gasp in response as he takes a small step backward.

“Am I going too fast?” The simplicity of the question or the sincerity with which he asks it (maybe that he asks it at all) makes something trip in your chest.

“No, you’re not. Daichi… I–I really like you. I think I’ve liked you since I first met you. And I’ve only liked you the more I’ve been around you. If this was to go… farther tonight, I think I would be happy with that.” You’re looking up at him, watching the emotions flow across his face, the slightly crooked bridge of his nose (you’ll have to ask him if that’s from volleyball later), the dark brown and copper of his eyes (they’ve slightly darkened since he kissed you but haven’t gotten any less soft), his slightly parted lips. And god, if you didn’t know better you’d say there was a careful adoration there in his face. Even if nothing else about this lasted, to see that look on someone’s face and know it was for you? That feeling would always be priceless.

“I’d be happy too. I think we’re a little bit dumb, aren’t we?” He says it with that smile, the one that’s bright and soft and makes your heart beat faster. You nod. You have missed a lot of cues apparently. But so has he. And maybe it was better that way. Maybe all of that was leading up to this. You take his hand and squeeze it. “You want to take this to the room?” He’s leading you before the question fully leaves his mouth but you’re glad for it. He shuts the lights off in the living room as you go and even that small action has you adding yet another thing to the list of things about him that you love.

His room feels much larger than you would have thought; the four poster bed takes up a lot of the room and if you weren’t getting a little nervous about what was going to happen, you’d be fantasizing about what it would be like to sleep in it. Just sleep in it. The quilt alone looks like the softest thing ever and he’s got more than one pillow there; it seems like a silly thing to notice but you do. But then he’s kissing you again and you don’t notice much more of anything else. You’re turning, backing up slowly until the backs of your legs bump against his bed. He’s pulling the quilt down and you’re laying back and then it hits you: this is actually happening.

Part of you is hesitant; you’d just had a conversation that night about how after all this time, you’d never been intimate in this way. Sure, you’ve read a lot. Watched television shows and movies. You’ve used your hands, used a vibrator. But there was only your physical needs to spur on feelings of pleasure. Now, there was a whole other person. A person you liked beyond lust. Of course, maybe that’s all this was. But this feels like something else entirely. That’s what has you holding your arms out to him and pulling him into his own bed, pulling him on top of you. He’s supporting his weight on one arm and the other is cupping your cheek and it has you nearly sick with an emotion you don’t want to explore right now.

“I’m gonna take your pants off now, okay?” You nod and he slides them down off your hips along with your underwear. You feel the cold rush of air hit your cunt and you realize with a new kind of embarrassment that you’re wet. Daichi realizes at the same time you do, places a steadying hand on your knees to prevent you from closing them. He shakes his head, barely a movement before he’s backing up, kneeling over you again, continuing his attention down the planes of your stomach. Until he stops and you feel his hot breath against you down there and you’re shuddering out a breath. “You can tell me to stop any time,” he reminds you, his voice rumbling into you. You shake your head near frantic, comb your fingers through his hair. Heaven nor hell could stop him now, least of all you. Even if you wanted him to stop which you most definitely don’t.

When he puts his mouth to the wet mess of your sex, you think you could get used to this, with him. It’s a completely new sensation, the way he practically drinks from you. Your voice pitches high and drawn out as he licks; the sounds he’s making are almost pornographic and god, you can’t believe that it’s it feels like this. He shifts, pulling you closer; you help him, canting your hips softly into his face.

“Right there, yeessss.” Your words come out garbled, difficult to even get out. He keeps going, focuses on your clit. You can feel something rising inside of you, something tightening. You recognize the feeling, only now it feels a hundred times more intense. It’s coiling in you like a new spring, the sparks of it sending the nerves in between your legs on fire. You’re gripping into his hair as he keeps going, delving his tongue into your cunt, sucking, moaning into you. It’s right there, right there, right there, you can feel it. “Oh, shit. I think–think I’mgonna–” He’s nodding into you, pressing your legs apart and there…

Your orgasm snaps, leaves you panting, arching your back and rutting your hips continually into his face. You want to close your legs but he won’t let you, keeps going to wring the last of it from you and by the time he’s finished, every little touch has you twitching. Everything feels overly sensitive. He huffs a soft breath, places a kiss to the flesh of your inner thigh. You can hardly process anything except to think that all of this feels like instinct. Instinctual when you thought maybe you wouldn’t know what to do, how to act. It makes you feel self-confident, even as you lay stretched out on Daichi’s bed, watching him with half-lidded eyes as you murmur “Daichi, I need–I need more. I need you inside me.” The look in his eyes… you wish you had a way to bottle that look.

A kiss to your mouth. “Are you sure you want to do this?” A kiss to your jaw, your neck. You turn so he has access to more skin, more of you. “We can stop now. We can stop at any point. This is for you, this one’s for you.” He’s pulling your shirt over your head and you’re gone to the world once more. A low whistling breath wheezes from his chest when he sees your breasts. He kisses again from your neck down over your sternum. He kneads one breast with a hand, laves his tongue over the pebbled nipple of the other. You back arches into him. Shit. Your hands never made you feel like this. There’s a split second where you can’t believe Daichi wants you but you push it away because that is the only doubt in your head and heart right now. And it has no right to be here. You’re turning back to him, nuzzling into his own neck. You nip softly at his ear, experimenting. The soft groan that falls from his mouth has you smiling. Exhale. You’ve got this.

“Yeah, Daichi, I want this. I want you.” He’s staring at you and it rushes in on a pinpoint that maybe he was having the same doubts. You can’t wrap your head around it. You smile at him and mirror his placement with your hand on his cheek. “Daichi,” you whisper it, speaking this thing, this good thing into existence. “You big dope. I want you. I want it to be you.” It’s like the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders; he’s reaching for the drawer in his nightstand for a condom and the lines above his brows have smoothed into concentration. “Can I… can I watch?” His eyes snap back to you and you’re afraid you’ve said something wrong until you can see in the low light how his pupils are blown.

“Baby, if you say anything more like that I might honestly have a difficult time making this last.” Now it’s your turn to flush and you’re a little embarrassed but it’s a good kind you think, a shy kind. Daichi takes his own shirt off, tosses it to the side of the bed. He stands, slides the gray sweatpants past his hips and down his legs. Oh god, he isn’t wearing any underwear. You watch with rapt attention as he crawls back onto the bed and faces you on his knees. You don’t have any experience with dicks in real life but you know his is pretty. On the shorter side, you think, but thick and curved slightly to the left, up to his stomach. It’s leaking precum. There’s no other way to describe it really. Pretty. You giggle a little bit, can’t help yourself. You’re shocked by it so you clap a hand over your mouth; you never would have thought you would think that. Daichi looks at you, somehow only good-natured confusion on his face, questioning.

“God, Daichi, I’m so sorry I just–it’s pretty. I just never thought I’d say that.” You’re waiting for him to laugh in response but he doesn’t, just keeps staring at you as he tears the condom wrapper with his teeth and proceeds to smooth it over his cock. And then he’s crawling back up the bed to you and you squeak as he takes your chin in hand, turning your face from side to side. You’re not afraid or alarmed in the least at his change in his demeanor. It has your pussy flooding again; you squeeze your thighs together, trying to gain any sort of friction. Daichi caresses a thumb across your chin, your bottom lip.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” He’s too fucking good at that, you think. Too good at asking you questions that shouldn’t be shocking but somehow are. Questions that make you warm and fuzzy on the inside. Questions that are at once both deeply gratifying and somehow terrifying because in yet another instance, if it was anyone but Daichi you would be questioning the motivation behind them. But all you can sense is attraction and affection and it nearly wrecks you.

“I’d like to think I am. But it feels nice to have someone else tell me,” you respond quietly. His brows screw together just a bit, the same emotion written on his features as when he asked you about who taught you that you were an imposition. It stays there when he leans down and seals his lips over yours; you can taste yourself there still. He positions himself above you, readjusting until he’s propped on one elbow, the other hand ghosting over your breast, squeezing the soft flesh of your sides and hips. You reach down between the two of you and take his cock in your hand. “I think I’m ready,” you say, watching with a certain satisfaction as his nostrils flare and he lets out the smallest of groans as you pump once, twice.

“Okay,” he whispers. You guide him to your cunt, guide him inside you. You can feel your face scrunch as you feel the pressure before he slips in fully. “Just breathe,” he says near your ear. He’s rubbing swirling circles into your sides as he waits for you to acclimate. You draw his mouth to yours and kiss, nodding against him to start moving. When he does, you can’t help the whine that spills from your mouth, the responding groan from his throat spurring you to roll your hips into him. The friction nearly sends you out of your mind.

“Fuck, keep going, Daichi please.” It’s the only cue he needs, the only motivation. He grips your hip with one hand and begins moving at a faster pace. Now you understand. All the books you’ve read, the shows you’ve watched. This is what they were talking about. Because the way his thick cock moves against your walls, the way your cunt pulls at him as if it’s the only thing you need to survive, you get it.

The angle of his thrusts has you clenching around him. You don’t know if the intoxication of the moment comes from it being your first time, if it comes from doing this with him, or because he just feels so fucking good. You wrap your arms around him, trying and succeeding to bring him closer. You would swallow him whole in that moment if you could. You want this to go on forever. Not just the sex. But this… this intimacy. With him. You try to slow the thought process down a little; maybe you don’t need to think about it too much.

“Hey,” he says it softly, his own breathing starting to come choppy from his throat. “Are you here with me?” The way he seems to sense where you’re at in your head before you do leaves you feeling seen in a way you haven’t experienced before. You lock in on his eyes and nod; you can feel another orgasm building but it doesn’t feel like the first. This one feels like a building wave, larger, broader, less acute than the one before. He can see it on your face and based on the erratic snap of his hips, you think he’s close too. You’re cresting the wave; he’s reaching a hand up to lock with yours as he leans in to whisper “You’re safe. You can relax. Let go, baby, I’ve got you.” You feel it then, the peak, and it’s like you’re standing at the edge of a cliff and you’ve just jumped off into deep blue water. It rushes over you, from the hand gripping Daichi’s, through your chest, into the hand clutching his back, to where your cunt keeps a velvet grip around his cock. You keep the rolling rhythm of your hips going, wanting him to come with you and when he does, he moans into your neck.

“I’m here with you, I’m here,” you repeat to him. It’s like a prayer, but better because it’s said at the altar of something much more sacred than anything you’ve ever offered one to before. His cock leaps inside of you and an image sears into your mind’s eye of getting fucked with no barrier between the two of you. You hope there will be opportunities for that in the future.

“Are you okay?” His voice is muffled by your neck; the weight of him is comforting and you can only nod. The two of you lay entwined for some time before he makes any attempt at moving, before he even slips out. You hiss a little at the new ache but welcome his kiss of apology. When he stands it takes all your resolve to let go of his hand. He roams out the door only long enough to come back and shut the door, a warm cloth in hand. Condom already discarded, he slips his sweats back on then turns his attention to you once more.

The warm cloth feels incredibly good as he wipes away any remnants of your arousal and when he’s finished, he tosses it to the hamper in the corner. Your smirk at him when he gathers your clothes and readies to hand them back to you.

“I don’t think the previous owner would be too appreciative if I put those back on right now,” you say with a satiated laugh. You can see the thought process roll through the gears in his brain before he throws them to the ground and rummages through a dresser drawer until he finds an old oversized shirt. “That’s better.” When you slip it on, it falls to just above your knees and smells faintly of him. He crawls into bed and the way he shuffles around on his side until he’s comfortable sparks affection anew in your chest. When he finally settles, he watches you in the way he does. You can see the question just out of reach, the question he has the decency not to ask. So you give him the answer. “Daichi, that was… you made me feel so safe and good. I’d… I’d like to do more of that in the future.”

He smirks on a soft huff of breath as he grabs your hand and squeezes. “I think that can be arranged.” You smile shyly at him (as if the man wasn’t just your first sexual experience) before turning on your side.

You curl your back into his stomach, reveling in the feeling of his arm around you. Outside the snow is falling harder, covering the city in a blanket of white. It’s cold but his breath against your neck is warm, calming and drawing you under into sleep as the cadence becomes slower and deeper. It would be easy to say that you don’t know what the night’s events mean for you or for him. It would be easy to say that this was a one night stand. It would be easy for anyone else but you. Because you? You know, you know, that this is just the beginning.

You don’t know it now but in the morning, you’ll wake to your face tucked in the space between his throat and his chest, your hands curled under your chin. The storm will have come in harder but you will be warmer than you’ve been in a long time. He’ll open his eyes to look at you, reach a hand out to touch your face. You’ll not say a word because you don’t want to break the silence and neither will he. You’ll give in once more to the pull of sleep, huddled close to him. The day can wait just a little longer; because you now have all the time in the world.

#daichi sawamura x reader #sawamura daichi x reader #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura #sawamura daichi #haikyuu #hq #collab: better than fiction #betterthanfictioncollab

661 notes · View notes