Werewolf!Eddie Munson x fem!Reader (NSFW) - Eddie’s POV
pt two - pt three - pt four
Synopsis: Out of desperation, Eddie visits you at your house to take care of some agonizing hunger.
Warnings: nsfw/18+ content; porn with a hint of a plot; Eddie's POV; breeding kink, Eddie’s in heat, situationship+/friends just helping friends, jealous & possessive!eddie, rough sex, clit stim, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, cum play/creampie/eddie cums in & on the reader & stuffs it back in, multiple orgasms, no aftercare
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: So, I wrote a werewolf!eddie story for Valentine’s Day, then ended up getting a little more brainrot from it and wound up writing this today. They’re separate stories, but this is a little glimpse of what to expect from the V-Day fic :) Hope you like it!
“I’m sorry,” Eddie sputtered for the hundredth time.
He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. Driven by that deep-seated animalistic hunger…. He hung his head and growled. The sound was ugly to his ears, but the rest that framed them drove him onward. A curse within a curse, all wrapped in an imperfect, impenetrable bow.
“I’m– fuck. I’m sorry.”
You answered with a warm, addictive clench around him, the gushing driving him deeper inside of you, chasing that feeling. Your whines and moans joined the wet slaps of every rough thrust he gave you. Though, with a hand on the back of your neck that kept your back perfectly arched, you turned your head into your pillows so nobody would hear. You bit down on it every time he drilled into you faster, leaving permanent marks in the fabric just as your fingers were doing to your sheets.
You laid three towels down underneath you to spare the cleanup, but still, he promised he'd get you new sheets cause of this. Kept that as one of the few coherent thoughts he still had when he was inside of you.
You were supposed to be downstairs. Your friends were having a party for something he couldn't even recall right then. Two dozen people down there, some of them even brought some of their single friends to help you out cause apparently, you being single for a year was unfathomable and the worst fucking thing in the world. The thought of it, parading you around down there to flirt with the random assholes like that….
Your bed creaked as he fucked you deeper, and you began to shudder. That sweet fucking shudder you did. Christ. He gave you shorter, quicker thrusts. His cock nestled deep in your cunt, a fucking addictive sensation that brought less relief before relief would come. And it would. It fucking would. You were the only one who made it go away. You were the only one he didn’t feel anything bad after draining his balls in you for the torturous hours when this fucking curse hit.
You felt fucking right. It wasn't a waste with you. Even when some spilled out of you and his body burned watching it drip down your thighs and cunt, you kept yourself spread so he could push it back in. You fucking wanted it. You wanted it. You wanted him. You still fucking wanted him even when he showed up at your fucking window in the middle of your party, drenched in that damned cold sweat, shaking, red in his cheeks and audibly panting.
You still locked your door, texted your friends that you weren’t feeling too great and you needed an hour or so, and you laid out those towels with a gentle smile. A beckoning smile.
He managed to keep himself together so you could drape your dress and underwear over your desk chair. Then….
His hips snapped forward and his vision blurred. Four. For the fourth time, he came in you. Throwing his head back and nearly drawing blood on his lip, he felt that rush of adrenaline and relief. It ripped through him and brought little rough thrusts that had you gasping into your pillow. He always enjoyed those. The ones where it was from him climaxing that made you lose your mind. Like you got off on taking him like that.
Maybe you did.
He wouldn't ask you. He knew if the answer was yes, he wouldn't be able to keep what little of his sanity remained.
“Fuck,” he choked out.
You clenched around him, walls fluttering and beckoning him to stay. He was trying to go. Trying to leave. His balls tightened as you took him to the hilt, and he readjusted his grasp on your hips desperately. Close–you were close. You could cum. He could make you. He needed you to. You’d cum how many times already? Three? You had to match. The least he could do was match.
His hair hung in his face as he reached around you. Gentle–he was gentle. Slow and gentle. With his fingers. He found your clit with memorized ease, giving you tight circles that had you gasping instantly. Your cunt began to spasm, and you writhed, clawing at your bed and whimpering, yes, yes, yes. And at that heavenly sound, his hips snapped forward, rutting so deep your subdued sounds became a bit of a bark. Your whole body–he could feel it–it became a light. It burned. It trembled.
He snapped his hips forward again, dragging his cock against all the sweet, sensitive sections inside of you. And you shuddered. Crying into your pillow, tearing at the fabric on your pillowcase, you cried. You squirmed. You came.
Restraint. He dropped both hands. They were shaking as you were. Both of you sitting in the silence of your bedroom, hearing the party down below. People laughed, their conversations drowning out into each other. And your heartbeats did as they always did–agonizingly beat together. As you both huffed for necessary fresh air to clear your heads, you were together. Wholly.
Eddie ran a hand over the top of your ass, tracing the tips of his nails over the tender skin with just enough pressure to gain goosebumps. You shuddered again, sniffling through hitched breaths. He was still erect, still balls deep–he had to wait. You knew that. Even if his balls were empty and he had nothing else to give, he needed to wait. And he waited, stroking your back, looking down at where he pressed inside of you, drenched in a cold sweat of needing more.
All night.
He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to keep you there. You were his. Like hell you were going downstairs to the flirty strangers there.
But he…he couldn’t be selfish. He was trying. He was trying so fucking hard.
You were doing more than enough as you were. He'd interrupted your night, and you still helped him. He couldn't. He couldn't. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
It hurt to pull out. It was like he'd edged himself for hours, and just before he was about to cum, he was stopping. Even if he could see the opposite of that as evidence on your thighs. Still. His cock glistened hard and still leaking. That was just one agony for you knew him. You were more than just…you were more than just friends. He had one hand on the base of his cock as you pushed your weight onto your shoulders and reached back. His coherence blurred as you spread yourself for him as you did every fucking time without him asking. You just did it.
Fucking–
He put a hand on your ass and pushed you harder against your bed. He was being a little selfish. But he couldn’t help it. It was impossible not to be. He had to. He had to. He had to.
He pumped his cock hard and quick. The sight was fucking perfect. Unbearable to leave as it was. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He pressed his tip against your entrance and came, mourning the loss of what wasn’t going inside of you, but burning at the relief that was joined by your whine and wiggle of your hips.
“I’m sorry,” he sputtered, voice raw as he freed his cock. “Fuck. I…Christ, I seriously fucking….”
He brought his fingers to you as you kept yourself spread. Same thing–doing what he liked without him even thinking of asking. You just…you just did it. And he gathered up what wasn’t inside of you and pushed it in with two fingers. Again, then again. Making sure he got every drop that could be saved.
Your body shook, and if it wasn’t for the damn laughter, he might’ve thought you were crying. You were. You were still crying a little. Sobbing and sniffling as you lifted your head and laughed. You trembled under your own weight. Kept in that position for so long, fucked raw and rough and as hard as he’d given it to you, you were a puddle. One that laughed so lightly it drove him mad.
"You've said," you murmured with a smile. A killer smile. It made his grow crooked, and certainty and relief settled in his gut. "I would've told you to take a hike, Eddie. You know that."
He did. You'd done it only once before, and he'd never left a place that the cops weren't at so quickly. He was trying. He was trying so fucking hard, and you made it so easy. You even backed yourself up onto his fingers as they pushed into you again, and it wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair knowing you were going downstairs the second he left.
“I interrupted your night, ‘kay? I’m gonna apologize.”
He curled his fingers and the squelching–Christ. Your fingers gave way. You fell into a new arch, shaking as he continued to pump his fingers. He reached back around you and found your clit again. His chest heaved. The thought of someone else touching you, getting that flirty smile from you, getting to put their fingers inside of you, their tongue, their cock.
Selfish–he was feeling really selfish. He knew–he fucking knew nobody would fuck you like he did. Nobody would make you cum as hard. Or…or have the stamina the damn bite gave him. Nobody. But he…he needed….
He needed to be selfish.
He pushed you onto your side just as he felt your cunt clench. Not yet. He burned as you blinked up at him, moving with his hands as he guided you onto your back. The positions he normally had you in faced you away. You rarely really looked at each other, and he could see the nerves, the intimacy. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this, though. But it was the first time he was doing it so….
In control.
He came over you, finding your widening eyes and your pulse skyrocketing. He nearly draped his body against you, but he needed room to plunge his fingers back into you and his palm to find your clit. Just enough. And your mouth fell open as he propped himself up on his elbow and cupped the back of your head.
Your eyes were so full and teary as they searched his. Your chest pressed against his with uneven, heavy breaths. And your back arched as your climax slowly barreled toward you.
He pressed his mouth to yours. No hesitation–no warning. A slow, searing, possessive kiss. His fingers moved faster. He’d brought this mouth to yours in heated, rough moments. Not like this. It was never…so intimate.
His body moved with the thrusts of his fingers, the push of his arm. Your mouth parted on a gasp, and he didn't have to take the full stride. You met his tongue halfway, deepening the kiss with him. And–oh. Oh. Oh. Jesus fucking Christ.
He snarled into the kiss, pinning you back.
His.
Your eyes clamped shut, and your head pressed back.
His. You were his.
You moaned against his mouth as you came, writhing beneath him and sputtering out his name. He tasted the tears on your lips. His hair fell into your face and his. His necklace was a warm press on your chest.
His fingers pulled out and pushed right back in even slower, holding you like a hook as he ghosted his mouth over yours.
“Hold some of it in for me before you go downstairs,” he whispered. “Just a little longer.”
His fingers pulled out. You nodded your head on a soft breath. Half-lidded, your eyes fell to his mouth and stayed there.
“You know I always do,” you murmured. “I know it helps.”
He matched your nod with his own.
“Thanks again.”
He…he nipped at your bottom lip on a whim. The sweet, vibrating sound you made was fucking atrocious to his self-control. Yet he still managed. He started to pull back, needing to leave, needing to go, needing to be far from you before what control he had over his second wind kicking in waned. So he pushed back–
“Are you coming back tomorrow?”
His hands twitched. You pushed up onto your elbows, closing the distance he just took, and he went still. Your eyes were wide and vulnerable. Sweet. You’d never asked him before. It’d always just been…. He left, then you two saw each other when you saw each other. Sometimes the next day with friends, sometimes not for a week or two. You were still in contact, yeah, but your…you thing was something kept track of except when he had unexpected moments like the one that night.
“I mean,” you murmured, brows furrowing, eyes darting away. “I just…was this enough? Because I have to be at Payton’s tomorrow at ten. If…if it’s not. I’ll be here before then.”
His cheeks flushed with what he damn well knew was a visible red. But it was joined by a crooked yet surprised smile. He tried to play it cool. Once upon a time, he would’ve thought being a werewolf would’ve made him fucking cooler in that regard. Gave him even more confidence to fuck around, but no. You ruined it. You took it and crushed it with your damn smile and kindness and selfless help.
And then you had to go and bite your lip before dragging your tongue back over it. And he knew–he fucking knew. He knew you were trying to get another taste of him. So he…he nodded again, and up went his hand. Your cheek was wet and soft. His pulse was hard and unforgiving as your bed creaked.
One more.
One last.
You melted while he barely held himself together as he kissed you.
“I’ll be by before you go,” he said against you. “Doubt it’ll be early, but–”
“You can come in. You….” You swallowed hard, nose nudging his. Your breath trembled. “You can just…if I’m sleeping. You can wake me up…with it…if that makes sense.”
His. He growled without even meaning, his nails pressing just a little bit into you as he brought his mouth back to yours. The kiss was just as searing as the last but coming in hotter. Truly burning. Maddening and breaking. You…. You….
You’d be alone in your room.
For him.
Waiting for him.
He shuddered and pulled back. He wanted to stay. Fuck it. He wanted to fuck you into your mattress all over again.
You weren’t going to give any of the shitheads down there even a second of a chance.
He kissed your jaw before pulling back, making a direct line for your window. His hand shook. He was alight inside of him in a way he couldn’t fucking comprehend. And he pulled on his clothes, left doing his belt as he sat in your window, the glass smudged from your collective fingers.
You lay sprawled on your bed, eyeing him with a burning yet tender gaze he wanted to eat up. To bathe in. It was new. Newer. That look was never so…at the front. He gave you a crooked smirk and waved.
“Sleep naked for me,” he whispered.
You cracked a smile. “I will.”
“Thanks.” He licked his lips before turning toward the night.
Out in the slightly cool air, he sprinted down into the trees, taking in you. Only you. All of you. It was a new beat in his chest he couldn’t fathom. It drove him wild, and he hollered with a beastly echo while running.
surprise, a Buddie thing! a werewolf!Eddie thing on top of that. brief mention of Buck’s problems but he’s in a good place in this. also I wrote this while sitting in my car outside of the gym so please forgive any typos.
Buck walks out of his bedroom only to almost immediately trip over the large mass of fur curled up in front of his door.
Once he’s regained his balance, Buck crouches down and scratches the top of the wolf’s head, right between his ears, “Morning, Eddie.”
He certainly hadn’t been expecting his best friend this morning, and definitely not in his wolf form, but this also isn’t the first time that Eddie has let himself in and shifted without telling Buck.
Although it does usually mean Eddie is having a rough time if he does this. Which is concerning for Buck.
“Come on,” Buck straightens and the wolf stands, stretching, “I need coffee.”
The wolf nudges Buck’s hand with his nose and then trails after him as they both head towards the kitchen.
As Buck prepares his coffee, he tries to think about what caused Eddie to slip in last night quietly. It’s been a month since Buck has been cleared to be back at work, he’s been regularly attending meetings and therapy, he’s feeling a lot more like himself.
During his recovery, after Buck had finally admitted to everyone and himself that he had a problem, Eddie would shift into his wolf form whenever it was just the two of them. Buck had no issues with it because the wolf would climb into his lap on the couch or onto his chest in bed, acting as a weighted pressure that Buck found comfort in.
When the others were around, Eddie remained in his human form, although a bit quieter than normal. Buck figured it was because everyone else was filling the silence and Eddie didn’t want to overwhelm Buck. Yet the moment they were gone and it was just Buck and Eddie, he’d slip away into the bedroom and reappear on four feet instead of two.
Not once did Buck think Eddie was avoiding him though. He knew that wasn’t the situation this time. Eddie was just trying to process this in the way he best could. Offer comfort in a way he knew Buck needed.
But things are better now.
Or, he thought they were.
Maybe Eddie isn’t quite there.
“Let’s go sit outside.” Buck says softly, picking up his coffee cup and heading for the back door.
The wolf slips out as soon as the door is open enough, bounding across the large yard. It was actually one of the reasons Buck had picked this place; it had lots of room for the wolf form of his best friend.
Buck walks across the patio and sits down where the cement meets the grass, legs out in front of him. He takes a sip of his coffee before sitting the cup down beside him.
He watches the wolf play with one of the balls they left out there, throwing it up and then catching it in his mouth. Buck smiles, loving when Eddie gets to have these moments of freedom and playfulness.
The smile fades though because Eddie is hurting. It’s the only reason he’d sneak into Buck’s house in the middle of the night, shift, and curl up outside of Buck’s bedroom instead of coming in.
“Eddie?”
The wolf pauses, head tilted down towards the ball, half turned away from Buck. His hears flicker towards Buck though, a sign he’s listening.
“I’m okay, you know. Really. I’m doing better. Thanks to you. And everyone. But…but yeah, you.”
The wolf’s ears flatten to its head as he turns to look at Buck, gold eye big and wide. Even in wolf form, Buck knows guilt on his best friend.
“None of this is your fault, Eddie.” Buck tells him, “You told me you didn’t smell anything different when I was on the meds before I was supposed to stop taking them. How would you have known I was still taking them?”
The wolf huffs, paws at the ground, and finally walks over to Buck. Buck spreads his legs a bit wider, allowing the large animal to walk right up to him, pressing his face into Buck’s chest.
“I didn’t want anyone to know, Eddie.” Buck murmurs, wrapping his arms around the wolf, curling his fingers into the soft fur, “And yet you took one look at me and knew. And then you helped me. And you still help me. Still love me.”
The wolf whines and pushes harder, nearly toppling Buck backwards. He laughs softly and kisses the top of the wolf’s head.
“I know. I love you too. And you know you can always come over. I’m not upset about that. I just wish you’d stepped through that door, that’s all.”
There’s a small lick against his neck, making him shiver and laugh again.
“No apologies. I’m not mad! Just worried.” He kisses the wolf on the head again. “You can stay like this all day if you need. It’s okay.”
The wolf licks him again, this one a lot less timid than before.
“Gross.” Buck grumbles with a smile, shoving the wolf away. “Go grab me the ball and I’ll throw it for you.”
If wolves could smile, Buck thinks that’s would Eddie is doing right now. He turns and bounds back to the ball while Buck takes another sip of his coffee.
Spending the day with Eddie, wolf or not, sounds like the perfect plans for today.
a collaboration between myself and the absolutely brilliant @lokis-army-77 ! caroline also made this header which i’m OBSESSED with. we both put our heart and souls into this so we hope you enjoy 💖
18+ ONLY MINORS GO AWAY!
warnings: monster fucking, soulmate au, age gap relationship (reader is in her 20’s & eddie is in his 40’s), knotting, fingering, eddie goes into a rut, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, omegaverse, marking, mating, unprotected piv sex, cream pie
word count: 2.8k
divider credit: @saradika-graphics
Eddie had grown used to the thought of not finding his mate in the forty-something years he had been on this earth. Flings had come and gone but none of them had sparked that primal ownership the alpha in him so desperately desired. That is, until you.
He had smelt you before he saw you. The overwhelming scent of strawberry, earth, and completely human had him in a frenzy. He sniffed you out in seconds, finding you easily in the crowd at the Hideout.
Now, three months later, you had completely moved in with him. Invaded every aspect of Eddie’s life. Filled his life with more joy than he could ever have imagined.
The morning had started fairly normal, the same routine. Eddie woke up at 4:15 a.m. on the dot, kissed you on the cheek as you slept, put on his work clothes, grabbed his coffee from the automatic coffee maker, and headed out the door to the construction site. All before the clock struck 4:30.
The day was long and hard. Aches and pains filled in his body as he worked in the sweltering August sun. All Eddie wanted was to be home with you. The thought of you filled him with the energy he needed to get through the rest of the workday.
Eddie had noticed since he had grown older, it was harder to tell when his ruts were beginning. The tale-tell signs of the quarterly cycle are the same as the normal signs of aging. His lower back ached and his head pounded.
Sweat broke out on his skin, he felt warmer than usual. Quicker to become irritable, snapping at his coworkers for the smallest of reasons. But that could easily be blamed on the blistering summer sun.
The heat didn’t let up though, the temperatures rising as the day progressed. Which only seemed to fuel his growing irritation, slamming the saw blade down with more force than necessary. He grabbed his bandana out of his back pocket, wiping away more sweat from his face.
“Munson! I’m not paying you to trash my equipment. Either get your attitude in check or go home.”
Charles Sinclair shouts as he steps out of the office trailer, an exasperated look crossing his features. Having witnessed the male’s behavior that entire day, keeping a close eye on him through the blinds.
Charles was one of the few in this town to give a young Eddie Munson a chance. Taking him on to handle grunt work, before eventually proving himself worthy of bigger jobs. So, this behavior was a little out of character for the now much more mature male.
Eddie grumbled, wishing he were home with you. Only, the thought of him not being near you made him more irritable. So much so that Charles finally just sent him home, reasoning that if he was acting so abnormal, then maybe he was ill and needed a bit of rest.
Once home, he sits in his truck. Head leaned back on the seat, eyes closed. He didn’t want to bring his grumpy attitude inside, didn’t want you to feel on edge just because his back hurt and he was burning up from being in the sun all day. So he waited until he felt it had been long enough.
With the exceptional hearing that comes with the territory of being an alpha, Eddie could hear you inside before opening the door. The quiet padding of your feet as you walked back and forth along the linoleum flooring of the kitchen, the clink of the dishes as you put them away.
As he opened the door, he was almost knocked off his feet at the smell. It was overwhelmingly you. Being his mate, sure you smelled wonderful, but this… this was on a whole other level. The scent carried deep into his chest, into his very bones, awakening something he didn’t even know was there, let alone dormant.
Having heard the door open but no footsteps, you look over your shoulder. You smile when you see Eddie. “Are you a vampire now? Need my permission to enter?” You giggle at your joke.
Still, he is frozen. Looking at you with an intensity you had never seen before. Your body turns to face him then, leaning your back against the countertop. His eyes are dark, the pupils nearly swallowing his irises whole. It's then that he is able to take you in fully, one of his old t-shirts adorning your frame. The stretched-out collar hanging off your shoulder, the hem barely reaching the skin of your thighs.
Your legs are bare, a pair of mismatched socks on your feet. Any other time he would have found the sight heartwarming, but it ignites something deep within his chest. He needed you, and he needed you now. Your voice is what snaps him out of his daze, slamming the door shut behind him. “Baby is everything okay?” He still doesn’t answer you, instead advancing toward you. Like a predator would stalk his prey, cornering you.
Your lower back hits the counter behind you, your hands go straight for Eddie’s chest to steady yourself. The heat radiation from his body is abnormal. You knew because he was a werewolf his body temperature was always high, but he was like a furnace.
“Baby?” You ask, concern entwined in your tone.
He only stares at you with a predatory gaze.
“Baby?” You ask again, a little louder this time, but still no response.
“Eddie!” you shout.
His eyes flick up to your eyes from gazing at your lips.
“Is something wrong? You seem sick.” Your fingers travel up his chest and to his face, holding him gently, trying to see what he isn’t telling you.
Eddie can barely hear you over the ringing in his ears. All he can think of, in the haze clouding his mind, is how much he needs to feel you around him. How much he wants to claim you by filling you so full of his seed that it's practically flowing out of you.
Before you can utter another word his lips are crashing against yours, pulling you even closer into his broad chest. His large hands slipped under your thighs to hoist you up onto the countertop, a small gasp leaving you at the action. He swallows your sounds, eagerly devouring your mouth. It has you feeling dizzy, gripping onto his shoulders tightly.
“What’s gotten into you?” You moan, arching into his body.
He grunts, “Just need you.”
Eddie is a blur of hands and fabric as he quickly begins undressing you. Pulling his shirt over his head, it only takes a second before his hands are back to roaming your body. The rough calluses tickled your supple skin as they trailed over its contours.
“Gotta feel you, sweetheart. Gotta have you crying on my cock, begging for my pups.” He’s rutting his hardened length against the inside of your thigh as he speaks. “Fuck you’d look so good carrying our pups.”
You bury your face in his neck, breathing in the heavy scent of sweat and something distinctly Eddie. You finally realize what’s happening when his words hit you fully. It’s his first rut since you started seeing him. You didn’t know much about it but you knew you had to help him.
Articles you had read said that once an alpha found their mate and went into a rut, they would be insatiable for the following days. Usually, that happened when they found an omega, but you were only human so you hadn’t thought twice about it. All you knew now was that you had to help him.
“Let me take care of you, baby.” You mumble into his neck, pressing a kiss to his warm skin. He lets out a low growl, now picking you up fully and leading you to your shared bedroom.
Tossing you into the middle of your unmade bed, before he rested his full weight between your thighs. His lips roam every inch of bare skin he can find, before circling his tongue around your nipple. The brunette’s fingers dip between your legs, groaning at the wetness he finds there.
“So ready for me already… you want my knot little one?” The whimper that leaves you has his head reeling, his fingers slipping inside to caress your inner walls. Your own grip his sweaty curls, taking them out of the loose bun he had them in.
Eagerly tugging his lips back up to yours, your tongues dancing together. Eddie eagerly slips another finger inside you, in an attempt to prepare you for him. Despite his ever-growing need to have you, he still never wanted to hurt you.
“E-Eds, this is supposed to be about you.” You cry out into his mouth as he curls his fingers up, thumb rubbing over your swollen bud. Already beginning to coax an orgasm from you, your nails digging into the nape of his neck. “Shhh, just give me one pretty girl…” His voice takes on a tone that you haven’t heard before, goosebumps breaking out across your skin.
You feel almost compelled to listen to him. Just lay back and let him make you feel good. So you do. You open your legs wider and let your head fall back on the sheets. Eddie's fingers coax moan after moan from you. Your own fingers grip him, holding on for dear life as your first of many orgasms to come erupt.
“Oh-” the tidal wave of pleasure that washed over you has you choking on air. Your legs squeezed shut around his hand but he kept that steady, strong pace.
Eddie is grinning at the way your body is reacting to him. “That's it, sweetheart. Let go, give it to me.”
Your back arches off the bed and your body shakes as you finally release, cumming with a loud cry of your partner's name.
His fingers still and you watch with wide eyes as he places them, covered in your juices, on his waiting tongue. A primal growl leaves him and in a second he’s on top of you, mouth devouring yours as he struggles with getting his work pants unbuttoned.
He’s feral in a way you’ve never experienced before, but you can’t lie to yourself, you absolutely love it. How he squeezes your thighs and hips possessively, the way his brows are furrowed in and his nose is scrunched up in almost a snarl. It had you wondering what it would be like to have him when he transformed.
Eddie finally gets his pants down far enough, his cock hard and heavy against your thigh as he ruts against you. His nose skims along your jaw and down your throat, his way of marking you with his scent.
Your hands travel along his shoulders, trailing down his back. “Baby, please.” You whine as your hands now reach the swell of his ass. Your fingertips are splayed across his overheated skin, pushing his hips further into yours.
The action causes a snarl to rip from his lips, his cock rubbing between your drenched folds. The underside catches on your swollen clit, your breasts pressing up against his chest. “Gonna make you all mine, honey.”
Eddie groans deeply as the tip of his cock presses into your entrance. Stretching you open, causing you to cry out as his lips press firmly against yours. He kisses you with an urgency that makes you breathless, panting as he fills you completely with a harsh thrust of his hips.
Your nails dig into the plush skin of his ass as the tip of his cock brushes against your sweet spot. Leaving behind red scratches in your wake, your head falling back against the rumpled sheets as he rocks his hips into yours.
This is not like the other times you’ve had sex. It’s not soft and sweet. No, it's rough and hard, animalistic. Eddie’s cock pounded into you, ripping the air from your lungs. His hands reach for your legs, holding them firmly behind the knees as he practically folds you in half.
“Eddie!” you wail, gasping for air as he impaled your cunt.
Grunts turned growls as he repeated over and over, “Mine, mine, mine.”
You watch through tears of pleasure as his eyes begin to almost glow. No longer were they the deep brown that reminded you of a teddy bear, but blood red. You felt your heart in your chest. He was changing. Losing himself in you, losing his control and all you could do was crave more.
You nod your head frantically, “That’s right, baby. I’m yours, all yours.”
The hair on his body suddenly seems to have doubled, his nails growing sharper, longer. Eddie’s face contorts slightly as he continues to rock into you at a ruthless pace. Despite all these changes, he’s never been more beautiful to you. His true form now revealed to you for the first time, as you watch in complete awe.
“Mate,” his voice has taken on a more gravelly and raspy tone, the sound only seeming to increase the slick between your thighs. He removes his hands from your legs, digging them into the sheets next to your head. Wrapping your legs around his waist to get him even closer, his cock driving into you so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat.
Your brain doesn’t comprehend the sound of fabric ripping, too focused on the pleasure radiating through you from his ministrations. Burying your face into the crook of his neck, your teeth sink into the sweaty skin of his shoulder. An attempt to stop a scream from leaving your kiss-swollen lips. The growl he lets out has your body trembling, his own mouth latching onto your shoulder.
When you feel his sharp teeth pierce your skin a broken sob leaves you, stars dancing behind your lids as you gush around his cock. It’s like your minds have connected, suddenly feeling closer to him than you ever had before.
“More,” he grunts as you feel his tongue swipe over the broken skin. The male flipped you both around so you were now bouncing on his thick length. His claws are digging into the flesh of your hips, crimson eyes locked on where your bodies were connecting.
A creamy ring has formed around the base, where his knot is beginning to slowly expand. You grip his curls in your fists, tugging his face between your breasts as he works you harder onto his cock. His name is tumbling from your lips, as you feel your third orgasm creeping up on you.
He’s getting thicker and thicker, until finally you can no longer move, stuck on his cock while he pumps his warm load inside of you. The stretch feels divine like you were made to take him in this way. You cum alongside him, head thrown back, breasts heaving, and limbs shaking. It’s the most complete you’ve ever felt.
Eddie whimpers as he sucks on every exposed inch of skin he can reach. The heat of you encompassing him, the feel of your walls spasming around his solid knot, it's all going to his head. He feels like he’ll never get enough of you. Like if he doesn’t keep you seated right where you are and breed that tight cunt, he’ll die.
“Fuck,” He growls, the sound causing you to clench even harder around his knot. This newfound feral nature of his is making you dizzy with lust, eager for him to give you more.
“Need more Eds,” you mumble as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. “Wanna make you a daddy…”
Eddie feels his heart stop and his brain shortcircuit. Animal instincts put him into gear. He drives his hips up, fucking you on his knot, pushing his cum deeper inside you. He needed it to stick. Needed your belly to swell with his pups. He craved it so badly. “Yeah? Make me a daddy, baby. Give me a family.”
You’re whimpering into his neck. Tears shed down your cheeks at the insurmountable pleasure you are feeling and then, you cum around him again. Your body trembles in his lap and his hand holds you steady, cradling you into his chest.
“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it.” Eddie stops his movements and you both just sit there on the bed, breathing hard and sweating. He continues to hold you close to him, calloused fingers trailing along your spine. His touch offers you more comfort than you’d ever experienced in your life.
Eddie keeps you secure in his lap until his knot has fully gone down, his body shifting back to his human form. He lifts your hips to lay you back gently onto the messy sheets. A satisfied smile graces your features as he hovers over you, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your abdomen. “That’s one.”
You lift yourself up on your elbows, confusion now apparent on your face as he chuckles. Your mate crawls back up towards you and presses a firm kiss to your forehead, “Sweet girl, we aren’t even close to being done yet.”
pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader
summary: It's May Day, so naturally you'd have a hedonistic time. Except there's nothing natural about any of it.
cw: smut, consensual noncon is negotiated, primal play, literally i cannot stress how consensual it is, public sex (no one gets caught), knotting, biting, marking, possessiveness, reader is bitten by a werewolf, marriage proposal of sorts, dark themes, physical abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master, misogyny, minor character death, blood, fairytale au, some kind of historical fantasy period, inspired by The Company of Wolves by Angela Carter
a/n: hiiiiiiii :) do I like this? no, but I've been working on it for half a year and if I don't publish it now I don't think I ever will, so pls enjoy it and if you don't shhhhh don't tell me ok love you bye
ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
The bouquet of flowers on your doorstep is beautiful, and not lacking in symbolism. Purple lilacs, for the first emotions of love. Bluebells, for consistency and everlasting love. Red roses, for true love.
In the center is one singular, bright yellow marigold. You figure you know who left them.
You’re stunned by them when you first open the door. Your hairline, already covered by your flowers from last night, prickles with sweat. You had hoped for something, some kind of affection or gesture this year, as you do every year, but you hadn’t imagined it would actually… happen. You’d hoped a bit like a child hopes for rain on a clear day. It’s possible, but it would take a lot, in the grand scheme of things.
You turn it over in your hands, your heartbeat thudding in your chest. You’re not sure what to think. You don’t know how Eddie would have known that this particular shack, in all of your Master’s sprawling estate, was yours. You don’t know what he means by this gesture. Is it an apology for turning you away last night? For embarrassing you? Is it a promise of some kind, that he intends to do something tonight? Is it a real declaration of love, or is it something else entirely?
You sniff, getting a waft of fragrant lilac when you do, and turn to place it inside. There’s nothing to be done with it now, aside from finding a vase for it. You don’t know where Eddie lays his head at night. You don’t know where he is now, or where he’ll be later. You have to trust that he’ll find you.
I’ll always come back to you. That’s what he said, before you walked away last night. You have to believe him, because otherwise you have nothing else.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” snaps a stern voice when you jauntily march out the door of your shack. Your Mistress stands with a sour look on her face, eyeing your day dress, free of an apron.
“To the town square, ma’am,” you tell her honestly, your head bowed. “For the… festival.”
“Just because it’s May Day does not mean you are exempt from your daily chores,” your Mistress reminds you, shoving a pitchfork in your hand and ordering you to go bale the hay.
You do as you’re told; you always do. You also know that you’ll probably be baling the hay until nightfall, when the festivities are sure to be picking up.
It gives you time to think. You don’t know what you’d do if you ran into Eddie at the bonfire tonight. Or, maybe you do… you have some ideas about what you’d like to do, anyways. But you can’t speak for what he wants.
He told you not to go near the woods, which he also said is where he lives. If he wanted to take you somewhere… wouldn’t it be to his own home? If so, has he already given you his answer, that he doesn’t want you in the way that you want him? It’s hard to believe, based on everything he’s done up to this point.
Well after noon, and several hay bales later, you’re sure the maypole in the center of town has been decorated by now. You’re sure that the town square has been covered with flowers, and you’re sure that Victoria and Hyacinth and the rest of the maidens in the town have determined which eligible bachelor they want to celebrate with tonight.
A flame of jealousy sparks in your gut. You hope that none of them have set their sights on Eddie. The mere thought of it is enough to make you see red.
As the sun sets on the horizon, shining golden light in through the open doors of the barn, you’re sure that people have noticed your absence from the festivities. It’s common knowledge around town that your Master is crueler than most. Less lenient, more forceful. You’ve heard whispers behind your back, and you pay them no heed, usually. That the Master intends to take you for a wife after your Mistress dies, whenever that may be. That he keeps you close for his own twisted purposes. And, you suppose, there’s merit to those rumors.
You’re not unaware of the way the Master sets his eyes on you sometimes. He isn’t good at hiding it, you should say. Not that he really tries; on more than one occasion, you’ve incurred the Mistress’s wrath simply because the Master stared at your chest for a little too long. Yes, you could say that the Master is attracted to you, in some way. And, once, you might have counted yourself lucky.
If he wasn’t attracted to you, he could be crueler. And you could do worse than to catch the eye of a powerful, wealthy landowner. If he married you, you would be financially secure, and you would never have to seek a place to live. You would never worry about being labeled a whore or being thrown out on the street. At one point, you’d accepted that this was the best case scenario for you.
But something has changed your perspective, recently. Something that has dark eyes and a mischievous smile and rings on his fingers. Fingers that, you know, are very skilled.
And what if… What if you were to marry Eddie? As you had imagined in the field last night, your mind wanders to the idea of being Eddie’s wife. Tending to his house, you imagine, a stone cottage in the woods. To lie in bed with him on a rainy night, warm against his burning chest. Being able to gaze into those sparkling eyes as often as you like, being able to wake up to him.
For the first time since you were a young girl, you really consider the possibility of being… happy. Your happiness. The idea of a happy future is something that has been such a foreign concept for so long, it almost makes you uncomfortable to dream about it.
When you were little, you’d dream about being a beautiful princess in a tower, saved by a knight in shining armor, who also happened to be a prince. These dreams went away once your family sold you into indentured servitude; princesses don’t work. Princesses aren’t covered in shit and filth on festival days, baling hay in a cow pasture. Princesses would be dancing the maypole and crowned the may queen–
“And I crowned her my sweet queen of May.”
–Princesses would be showered with flowers and gifts–
Bluebells for consistency and everlasting love.
–Princesses are whisked away in the night from their troubles and marry princes.
I am not a princess.
You throw your pitchfork down beside the last bale of hay. The sun has set, finally, and the moon is already high in the sky. The bonfires in the town square will be burning down. If Eddie was there, he’s sure to have found someone else by now.
Your cheeks, dusted with dirt, feel crusty and filthy when you cry. You are no princess, despite the crown of flowers on your head. Eddie isn’t going to save you. And really, what would it say for your honor if he did? Can you not defend yourself? Are you so helpless that you need a strange man from the woods to save you from your life?
Marching out of the barn, you feel hungry, and tired, and you figure that you would probably be best suited to go to bed. But there will be food and drink at the festival, even if it’s late. There could still be time to meet someone, anyway.
“And where do you think you’re going?” It’s a deep and gruff voice that asks this time, and you’re about sick and tired of hearing that same question. But your irritation is easily replaced by dread, when you turn to find your Master standing by the entrance to the barn you just stormed out of.
“The bonfire,” you reply, with less heat than intended. “It’s May Day, and I’ve done my chores.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” your Master says.
He’s not a tall man, but what he lacks in stature he makes up for in intimidation. He has cold blue eyes and a sneer that could freeze a King in his place. You know what it’s like when he’s on the other side of a cane, and you don’t relish the idea of a beating just because you wanted to go to a festival. When the Master steps up to you, he smells like liquor, so strong it stings your sinuses.
“You think I don’t know what you’ve been up to?” He growls at you, a nasty sounding thing in the back of his throat. You flinch. “That girl from the Werther’s house– Victoria, is it? She told me all about you and some… some boy in the woods. The one they call the Beast in town. Is that what you’re doing now? Dallying with any boy who comes around? Even ones from the woods?”
Your cheeks burn hot, and you step back just as he steps forward, looming over you in his drunken state. “No, I… I don’t dally–”
“Not from what she says,” he snaps back, and you briefly consider wringing Victoria by her stupid neck. And then you think, Hyacinth would have never betrayed me. “Running around in your night clothes, fooling around with some woodland freak. I ought to whip you where you stand.”
Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as he backs you into a corner. The fence for the pig pen meets the edge of the barn where you end up, your back hitting the barn door and earning a loud creak from the hinges.
Your Master reaches for you with a snarl. Instinctively you curl into a ball, your arms coming up to protect your face and neck. Your instincts don’t take into consideration that he doesn’t have a cane in his hand, and he’s too drunk to throw a good punch. You cry out when his hand clamps tightly around your wrist, and he yanks you toward the barn.
“What are you doing?” is your undignified shriek when he throws you into the barn, and you fall into the pile of hay bales you just stacked.
“You’ll sleep with the cows tonight,” the Master growls, and spits a glob of phlegm at your feet. “It’s what you are.”
“No, please–” you rush forward just as the barn doors slam shut in front of your face, locking you in darkness with the stench of manure and dirt. The cows are down at the other end of the barn; you hear them jostling unhappily in their restraints as you bang on the door with the flat of your hand.
You finally let yourself cry. You’re filthy. Covered in sweat and grime, mud all over your skirt from working all day, the crown of flowers on your head wilting. You don’t know what you expected. You’re not Cinderella; you don’t have a fairy godmother, and you don’t have anyone coming to save you and let you go to the ball. This isn’t a fairytale. The stories you were told when you were a child were just that.
Even as you continue to bang on the door, you’re already starting to accept it. You won’t be getting out of here anytime soon. They’ll let you out of the barn in the morning, sure, but you’re not going to leave this farm, or your Master, or this life of servitude until you’re dead, or otherwise ripped from your mortal life.
Then there’s a scuffling. On the other side of the door, you hear your Master shout once, shortly, before it’s muffled and frantic. Footfalls in the dirt. A growling, snarling. Yelping. And then something bangs on the barn door, making it jostle so hard you scream and jump back.
Your Master, just on the other side of the door, like he’s been thrown against it, screams loudly. Something snarls, and then there’s a wet squelch, like the sound of something alive being torn open. A chicken being gutted. You stand away from the door, your eyes bulging in the darkness, your hands clamped over your mouth to quiet your frantic breathing.
Something just killed your Master. The fact sinks like a stone in your stomach. He’s no longer shouting. There’s no movement, nothing to indicate that there’s anything alive on the other side of the door anymore. Only dead silence.
And then another scuffle. A heavy thud, like something being thrown aside. And then something, or someone, is unlocking the door.
In the darkness, you panic. You back away quickly, your hands searching, feeling for anything that you can grab to defend yourself with. You find nothing, but collapse into the stack of hay bales just as the doors swing open, and you come face to face with your Master’s killer.
“Eddie?”
It’s him, all right. He stands with his arms outstretched to either side, holding the barn doors open with the light of the full moon shining in behind him. You don’t know how it’s happening, but his eyes reflect the moonlight with a bright red hue to compliment the red blood that’s all over him.
It drips down his face, his neck, his chest. It’s on his hands. When he smiles at you, it’s in his teeth.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, and you feel like your heart could leap out of your chest with how hard it pounds in its cage. He tilts his head, seeing your tear streaked face, the way you cower against the bales of hay in your muddy dress. “Rough day?”
“You– you–” and your brain has stopped working. You know what you’re looking at; Eddie killed your Master. Eddie is covered in his blood. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, is a killer, a murderer, looming over you with a smile that could scare ghosts back into their graves.
“Yeah, me.” He takes a step forward. You scream and jump back, putting a bale of hay between you and the man covered in blood at the door. Eddie puts his hands up in defense. “I’m not going to hurt you, princess–”
“Stop calling me that.” You grab your pitchfork off the ground, and hold it up at him. “You killed my Master. I don’t even know how you did it– but do you know what that means?” You thrust the pitchfork at him. He jumps back. “Do you?”
Eddie blinks. “It means… you’re free?”
“It means I get passed off to his next of kin,” you snarl at him. “Like a fucking cow. That’s all I am to them. I’m cattle. And the next person who gets me may decide to slaughter me. Do you understand?” You jab the pitchfork at him again, and he backs away into the moonlight. “Why would you do that to me?”
“Because he hurt you!” Eddie retorts, flailing his outstretched hands, exasperated. “Because he locked you in a barn! I could– I could smell the rage on him. He wasn’t going to leave you here, he was going to do something worse. Just give it another drink, he would have been back out here. And I wasn’t going to let it happen. I couldn’t… I couldn’t watch it anymore.” He drops his arms with a sigh, and his hands smack loudly against his thighs. “You’ve helped me twice. Let me at least return the favor.”
“I helped you once,” you snap.
Eddie shakes his head. “No, sweet pea. Twice. You just didn’t know it.”
He raises his right hand, his bloody fist tight. He shakes his arm until his sleeve falls, and exposes the light pink scrap of fabric tied around it– the one you swore was yours. The one you swore you tied around the leg of the wolf you nursed last month.
“You–” the pitchfork in your hand lowers. You think you’re halfway to crazy. Or, maybe you’re already there. “You’re the wolf.”
Eddie nods. “I am.”
“You’re a… a wolf-man?” You’re shaking your head, but even so, the entire thing makes sense. It’s why you’ve been so suspicious, why something seemed so off about him. Why his smile is always so sharp. Why you always feel a little bit like a frightened animal around him, in spite of it all.
“I am,” Eddie repeats, and he turns to look over his shoulder.
You shake your head. “I don’t believe in that. I don’t believe in fairytales.”
“Doesn’t matter what you believe in, sweetheart.” He spits something out of his mouth, grimacing as he licks his teeth. “The moon will peak at midnight, and then I change. I need to be far away when that happens.” He looks at you, his eyes pleading. “Come with me.”
As incredulous as you are, as slowly as you’re coming to terms with what’s been in front of you the whole time, you still drop your pitchfork to the ground. “Where?”
“To the woods,” Eddie shrugs, his smile disarmingly sweet beneath all the blood. “Maybe I can be your new Master, hm?”
“Fuck you, Munson.”
“That’s the name of the game.”
“You’re a goddamn demon. I shouldn’t have trusted you– I shouldn’t have talked to you.”
Eddie crosses his arms. “Listen. I think God’s got a sick sense of humor; otherwise, I wouldn’t be what I am, and you’d be a lady in a castle far away from any of this. So why don’t we make the best of a bad situation, hm?”
You narrow your eyes at him. You can feel yourself doing something stupid even before you say it. “I’m… listening.”
“Great!” He claps his hands and launches into a spiel that leaves you wondering if he’d spent the entire time since last night concocting it. “I’m gonna turn into a rabid beast in, oh, I dunno, maybe two hours. Give or take. But if you want to stay in my home, safe, where wolf-me can’t work a latch, I’ll be back in the morning. And then we can get married and fuck and have lots of babies and be that old couple who lives in the woods. Or something. Really, I haven’t thought that far. Maybe just stay the night? Or forever. I’m not picky.”
You’re frowning when he turns to you with a half-crazed grin. “That’s the worst proposal I’ve ever heard.”
Eddie gestures to himself. “Not exactly a poet.”
“So, what are you, then?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “No riddles this time. Tell me, honestly. What are you?”
Eddie sighs. He tilts his head to the ceiling, kicks the ground with the heel of his boot, and then he says, “I’m a monster. I’m a man. I’m a woodworker and I’m a charlatan. I cheat, I lie. I turn into a wolf and I kill men because they’d do the same to me. I can’t help it, comes with the territory. I have a family of other wolves who look after me and I look after them, and you’ll meet them if you want. But…” He peers at you for a moment, and then averts his gaze, “But really, I’m yours. I’m in love with you. I have been since you helped me that time Thatch shot me, and I’ll be yours even if you run to town and turn me in, and I’ll be yours if they hunt me down and throw me on a pyre. That’s all I am, really.”
You can barely find it in you to breathe. You’re still shaky on your feet and you don’t think you’re quite in your right mind, but you find yourself thinking about the last night, about his hands and his lips on you, about how it was so easy for you to get lost in him. How you spent all night and all day thinking about him, wanting him, wishing for precisely this.
Just not with the caveat of fur and four legs.
“You’re looking at me funny,” he muses, his eyes flaring. His smile is wider than it should be. His teeth are more pointed than they should be.
“I’m not looking at you any sort of way.”
He laughs. It runs clear down your spine and shudders through your limbs. You have to swallow past the dryness in your throat.
“Always so proud– you know you don’t have to stand on ceremony anymore, right?” He tilts his head at you. “There’s no one around to judge you here, princess. Least of all me.”
“I’m not standing on ceremony,” you press, but you feel like an indignant child the more you argue with him. “If I was, I wouldn’t be talking to you. I’d be trying to get out of here.”
“You want to leave?” Eddie asks, his voice clear and frank. He points over his shoulder. “Don’t let me stand in your way.”
He holds his hands out at his sides, palms up. His fingernails are long and sharp– like he’s slowly transforming into a monster, right in front of you. He stands aside, and there’s a clear path between you and the door.
You could leave. You could run. You could find a place to run and hide, disappear by morning.
But you don’t. You don’t want to leave. Not him. Not yet.
His eyes are different now as they peer at you. They seem iridescent, glinting in the darkness. He sizes you up and down, and you feel more and more like prey. You… should be scared.
“Am I to take that as a no?” Eddie asks after a lengthy pause.
You don’t exactly have anything to say in your defense. If he was wrong, you would already have tried to bolt.
“Will you chase me?” You watch his eyebrows shoot up when you ask the question. You wet your lower lip with your tongue, an inch away from gnawing on it. “If I run, will you come after me?”
“Do you want me to chase you?”
Your breath sticks in your throat. It would be so easy to just say yes. Yes, I want to be chased by you. I want to be pursued and I want you to make me yours in every way possible. But the words won’t come. They can’t come, as if it would soil you just to say them. It would be admitting defeat.
“I don’t want to be given a choice.”
Eddie shakes his head, his frown of confusion deepening. “You always have a choice with me.”
“Eddie,” you say slowly, inclining your head. “I don’t. Want. A choice.” You stare at him heavily, willing him to gather your meaning without having to say it. I want you to force me.
You watch as the fire of recognition ignites in his eyes, and he opens his mouth with a noise of understanding. Ah. Yes. This is your choice. He smirks at you, then looks down at his foot as he digs his heel idly into the dirt.
“I’ll count to three,” Eddie mutters without looking up at you. Still, you can see the ghost of a playful smile on his face. “One-”
You take off like a shot. You don’t have time to hear him continue counting. You’ll probably make it to the pasture before he catches up with you, unless he’s stronger than a normal man. If the bloodied carcass of your Master is anything to go by, though, you imagine that he is.
You don’t make it to the pasture. You don’t even get close. You come to the doorstep of your pathetic little shed, your feet slamming the dirt, kicking up dust all the way, the air in your lungs burning with the labor of your breath, when your back is hit by something solid and unforgiving. Your legs are ripped out from beneath you, and you topple to the ground in front of your door with a thud.
“How fitting,” Eddie’s voice says in your ear, deep and husky, while his hand cups your chin, yanking your head up from the dirt. “Right where we met, isn’t it?”
He crowds you, half-laying on top of you, his weight pressing into your back and his hips meeting yours from behind. You gasp at the feeling of sharp claws pricking your cheeks where he holds your jaw in his hand, while the other creeps beneath your skirt and along your thigh.
“I never got to finish what I started last night,” Eddie purrs, his voice resonating in his chest. It’s enough to make you shiver, while goosebumps erupt on your skin. “I never like to leave a lady wanting.”
He scrapes his nails along your inner thigh, coaxing your legs apart. You jerk a little in his grip and whine when his claws dig in. Your face burns, your skin feeling like it’s on fire. It would be so easy for someone to find you here, flat on your stomach with a monster at your back.
A whimper escapes your lips when his finger circles your clit, just like he did the night before. You shouldn’t want him, especially not like this, but it’s almost as if everything about Eddie begs you to go against your own nature. It began when you invited a wild animal into your home. It doesn’t seem like it will ever end. Nor will your want for him.
“Eddie,” you sigh out shakily, and he shushes you while his finger plays through your wetness. He touches you like he knows exactly how to set you on edge. He’s cruel with his gentility, even while you want him to tear you apart.
You arch against him, driving your ass back against his hips. You feel his cock press against you through the layers of fabric still separating you, and it makes you want to whine in frustration like a spoiled brat. It’s not enough to have him here, pinning you, touching you. You need him everywhere. You need him to consume you entirely.
Gasping, you open your mouth to say something else– urge him or taunt him, you’re not sure which– but his hand clamps down over your mouth before you can manage it.
“I told you to be quiet,” he growls, grinding his hips down into yours harder. “I’ve already been shot once, I don’t need it to happen again because you can’t keep it down.”
Eddie flips your skirts up over your hips, and your bare skin meets the cool air. There’s a moment of heavy anticipation, of Eddie’s harsh breathing against your ear, of the scrape of his trousers against your thighs. And then there’s the press of his cock against your entrance, and you tense.
“Do you believe in me now?” Eddie whispers in your ear. His voice has taken on a ragged tone, like he can hardly contain the animal lingering beneath his surface. His fingers have just started to tremble against your cheeks– just enough to let you know that he, damn him, is holding himself back.
Your eyelashes flutter. You have a mind to grind against him, to spur him on. “I have to, don’t I?”
He chuckles, and the sound raises goosebumps on your skin. Your heart pounds in your chest, and Eddie takes a long, slow inhale. “Your heart’s beating so fast, princess. Something on your mind?”
“Fuck you,” you seethe.
“As you wish.”
He grabs your hips and pushes in deep. You cry out, digging your fingers into the dirt to steady yourself, scrabbling for a sense of stability. Eddie holds you close by the throat, pulling out and pushing back in with the same brutal force.
The sounds coming from your mouth can’t be real, can’t be you. You aren’t proud of yourself, but you can’t stop while he’s being relentless, fucking into you hard and fast.
Eddie groans low in your ear, his hand around your throat slipping down. His claws wrap around your neckline and he tears through the fabric, ripping the layers of clothing to expose your shoulder to him. You feel the whisper of his sharp teeth along your skin, tickling at your pulse point, and it’s all you can do not to cum right then.
Your eyes roll, your back arching against him. “Eddie, I–”
“Don’t be afraid,” Eddie tells you. His words vibrate on your skin. “I won’t bite.”
You reach back, and your hand finds his hair, thick and curly between your fingers. “I want you to,” you pant, while your orgasm mounts, pleasure gathering between your legs with every move that he makes. You moan, your breath catching in your throat. “Please, Eddie–”
His nose pressed to your shoulder, Eddie shakes his head. You can’t see the way that his pupils dilate, his limbs shaking with the effort of holding back.
Instead, his hand slips between your legs again, and when he circles your clit with his gentle touch and his sharp claw, you cum with a silent scream of relief.
He keeps going, hard and fast as you ride out your orgasm. And finally, Eddie lets out an animalistic growl loud enough to shake the earth, and he spills inside you.
Your legs threaten to buckle out from under you, but Eddie catches you at the last second just before you both slump to the damp ground. Gasping for breath and still coming down from your high, you barely have the energy to object when your clouded mind registers the swell of a knot keeping him inside you.
Eddie wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, until you fit against him like the missing piece of a puzzle. The full moon overhead douses the pastures with silver light. Far off in the tall grass, crickets sing.
“You didn’t bite,” you croak, your voice sounding distant and hazy. He shifts, and it makes you squeak when it moves the knot inside you.
“Didn’t want to do it to you if you didn’t mean it,” he murmurs. His breath is hot on the back of your neck, and you find yourself wishing that you could turn and look at him in the moonlight.
“I meant it,” you tell him earnestly, running your hand along his arm. “I want… I want it. Make me yours, Eddie.”
He makes a weak noise in his throat, his arms tightening around you even further. “Don’t say that unless you want me forever.”
You laugh. It surprises you, but you can’t help it. “I don’t think I could let you go even if I wanted to, baby.”
He stills for a moment, like he’s trying to process what you’re telling him. “So… so you’ll come with me?”
You sigh, with a gentle smile curling at your lips. You consider the dreams you’ve had, of running away with him, of living with him, of having him whisk you away like a knight in shining armor. Even if he isn’t a knight, it is what you’ve been wishing for, isn’t it?
“Yes,” you tell him softly. “I’ll come with you. Just make me yours.”
When he pulls your hair away from your neck, Eddie’s touch is so tender that it could make you cry. His lips touch your skin, and your eyes flutter shut in anticipation of the sting of his teeth.
“I’ll always be yours,” he tells you again, this time so quiet that it sounds like a prayer for you alone to hear. “Always.”
And when Eddie sinks his teeth in, the world goes black.
You wake with your head on a pillow of soft cotton and your back on a mattress filled with hay.
Wherever you are, there isn’t much light in the room. There’s an open window somewhere over your head; you hear birds outside. The forest sings in the morning.
The cabin you’re in is much like your own, except it affords more room to move around. The floor has a decadent rug thrown across it, something that you wouldn’t expect a cabin like this to have in its inventory. It isn’t much bigger than your own shack. You old shack, now, you suppose.
The more you look around, the more things seem… eclectic, to say the least. The bed is simple wood, but the blankets and linens are fine, like something an aristocrat would use. The ring dish on the window sill is an abalone seashell, shining iridescent purple and blue in the morning light to reflect the rubies and sapphires on the rings inside of it. The humble dining table is worn and covered in knicks and scratches, but the silverware is finer than any you’ve ever seen.
When you finally pull yourself out of the bed and take a look around, you see Eddie’s burgundy blouse tossed across a rocking chair in the corner by the hearth. So, you conclude, this is Eddie’s domain. His home. The cabin in the woods you’d been dreaming of.
And with a bit more snooping, you conclude something else. Eddie Munson is a goddamned thief.
He has pocket watches engraved with names of nobility from all around the country. The platter on the table is monogrammed H.R. Cheshire. Eddie’s wardrobe has a large amount of men’s and women’s clothing piled in it, and all of it is fine silk, taffeta and lace– not something a simple woodworker living in the woods would be able to afford.
You stumble to the door almost like you’re drunk, and when the door bangs open on its hinges, it’s Eddie who startles backwards in the bushes this time. He yelps, and you see just enough of him to catch him losing his balance and toppling ass-over-head over a log past the treeline.
“For god’s sake, Eddie,” you chastise him.
“Wasn’t expecting that,” he retorts, his head popping up over the top of the bush. He’s cleaned himself up, at least, so his face isn’t covered in blood anymore. He still looks so beautiful, though, and you still feel your heart skip a beat to look at him.
“You– you’ve stolen half of everything in here.” You gesture vaguely over your shoulder at the cabin. Your shoulder aches and stings when you move it, leading you to believe that everything that happened in the night was not a dream. It was real.
Everything you’ve thought didn’t exist is real.
Eddie is just a flicker of a shadow through the trees as he rounds one and steps into full view. “Had to make a living, somehow.”
“And yet you walk around in the woods naked?”
He holds his hands out at his sides. “Um. Didn’t have time to get changed after I brought you here. It's kinda… it’s hard to hold it off when it happens.”
“When you turn into a wolf, you mean?”
“Yes.”
You nod slowly, trying to only look at his face. It’s inordinately difficult. “Am I going to turn into a wolf?”
“Eventually.” Eddie tilts his head and looks at you warily. “Did you… not want it after all?”
“No, I–” you pause. It’s hard to put into words what you’re feeling, but you know it’s not regret. Your voice wobbles when you finally say, “I think it’ll just take some time to get used to it. Things have been the same for so long, and now…”
“Hey,” Eddie says, sounding almost the same as you had when he showed up the first time, crying at your door. He holds out his hand, his palm facing upward. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Okay? Let me help.”
You look at him through misty eyes, and you almost laugh at how blatantly your roles have reversed, now. You, standing at his door, crying. Him, trying to be of service to you.
You give him a meager smile, placing your hand in his. “Can I stay?”
“Stay forever,” Eddie tells you, looking up at you with kind eyes. “But I can’t promise I’ll be polite for all of it.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m in love with you,” you admit, and watch as he absorbs your words slowly, almost as if he never imagined he’d hear you say it.
And when he kisses you this time, you don’t even mind the sharpness of his teeth.
Werewolf!Eddie pinning you down and breeding you, forcing his knot into you over and over until he’s sure it’ll take. He whispers sweet praises into your ear about how pretty you’d look pregnant and how he’s so lucky that you’re all his, all while continuing to pump his knot into you until neither of you can physically take any more.
