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pretty-batty · 2 months ago

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Good soup

Hi 👋

I had a smut idea about a modern version of Rockstar!Eddie. Corroded Coffin is just taking off so of course Eddie interacts with fans through social media, answering dms and liking fanart. One day Eddie gets a dm from Virgin!Reader, asking him if he can take her virginity. At first Eddie is very unsure about it until he learns more about Reader and agrees. How does that sound?

Drunken Texts

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Virgin!fem reader

Word Count: 5.6k

You drunkenly DM the Eddie Munson asking him to be your first.

Warning: 18+ I will block you if you are under 18 or have no age in your blog. oral (f & m receiving), p in v, fingering, virginity taking.

Thank you to my beta readers @munson-blurbs, @xxladymjxx, and @emma-munson

AN: I am so sorry this took so long! I started my masters program and have kinda been in a slump lately, but I am so happy that I finished this for you @randomreader1999 I was determined bc you have read and liked literally everything I have ever posted and I love you!

Masterlist

Eddie scrolled through his DMs in the dark of the tour bus. He loved to answer fans, even if his manager told him it wasn’t a good idea. The rockstar life was brand new to him and he couldn’t help wanting to have a relationship with his fans. He knew he would have loved for his idol to message him back when he was once a nobody, so he was only doing what he thought would be great fan service.

It wasn't until he clicked on your message that his heart skipped a beat.

Hiii Eddie

I know this iis a weird thing to ask but… woul dyou take my virginity???

His mouth hung open, shocked at what he was seeing. Sitting there, he battled with what he should do. Did he just leave it on read or maybe turn down the poor girl as politely as he knew how?

Then, he saw that little green dot next to the profile picture and all of a sudden Instagram was telling him you were in the chat.

He freaked out even more when he saw the bubble appear, signaling you were typing.

Oh my god!!

Please ignore that

I wasn't exactly sober when I sent it to you

Eddie chucked at the speed at which your messages came in. You were definitely freaking out on the other side. So he decided to answer and put you at ease.

It's alright

Mistakes happen, believe me

He watches as your typing bubble appears once more.

Oh my god, you actually answered me.

I'm going to fucking die

Please don't think I'm a creep, I promise I'm not!!

I didn’t think you would see that

Eddie shakes his head, a bemused expression washing over his face. Deciding it was late, he turned his phone off and set it aside. Sleep comes fast. It usually did, not only because Eddie could fall asleep anywhere, any time, but life on a tour bus–performing in a new town almost every night–was exhausting, especially for someone who was still new to the rockstar world.

When Eddie awoke the next morning, the first thing he did was grab his phone. Opening it, he was still in the chat with you. He laughed through his nose softly as he reread your messages. He should have clicked out and gone about his day, but for some reason, he wanted to continue talking with you.

So, as he climbed from his bunk, he texted you back once more.

Hey

Hope you didn’t die

…..

The ding from your phone caught your attention, pulling you away from typing on your computer. It was muscle memory that had you reaching for the device and pressing on the notification before even looking to see what it was, too confident it was either your best friend/roommate or your mother who always seems to be in your business.

But as you look at the message, your eyes widen and your face heats with embarrassment. It was neither your mother nor your roommate… No, it was Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, who had been witness to your most epic blunder.

“Fuck!” The curse echoes through the apartment. Why is he messaging me? Again? Your heart thuds in your chest. Should you answer him back? Should you just ignore it? You had no clue what to do as your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

“What’s all the yellin’ about?”

You startle when a voice calls out from the front door. Looking up, you see your roommate, Robin, taking her shoes off.

“Hey, Rob. I’m actually going to fucking die. Like you need to find a new best friend because I am no longer here.”

She walks into your room and leans on the door frame, eyebrow raised quizzically. “Normally, I’m the dramatic one… What’s happened?”

You can’t help but nervously laugh and rub the back of your neck with a sweaty hand.

“Oh my god, what did you do? You have that look!” She gasps and points a finger at you.

“What? I don’t have a look.” You defend.

“Oh, yes, you do. You have this guilty look when you do something bad.” She argues, stepping further into your room. “Tell me what you did or I’ll hit you.” She makes a hard swipe at your shoulder.

Instinctively, you go to hold your assaulted arm. “Ow! What the fuck Rob!”

“Tell me or I’ll do it again.”

“Okay, okay! No need to get violent. Sheesh.”

Taking a deep breath, you turn in your chair to face her as she sits on the edge of your bed.

“So remember when we went out drinking the other night and I got all sad drunk on you because I’ve never had sex, let alone been in a relationship?”

She squinted her eyes, trying to determine where you were going with this.

“And then you told me to just shoot my shot?” Well, drunk me apparently thought DMing my celebrity crush “Take my virginity” was a good fucking idea.”

Robin gasps, hand covering her mouth. “Oh babe, you did not…”

“Oh, wait, it gets worse.” You clap your hands together. “He fucking messaged me back. Twice! He probably thinks I'm a weirdo, maybe a stalker? I can never show my face in public again!”

“Alright, just calm down for a second.” Robin stands from her spot on the bed and stands in front of you with her hand out. “Let me see the damage.”

Reluctantly, you hand her the phone. She’s doing an awful lot of humming while looking at the short yet mortifying conversation.

“Why do you keep humming like that?” You ask. She's making you nervous.

She looks over the top of the phone at you and then back down. “I think he’s trying to start a conversation with you. Why else would he respond after seven hours? He actually might be flirting.”

You look at her horrified. “Robin, I highly doubt he is flirting with the crazy nobody who drunk texted him at 2 a.m. on a Saturday. If anything he’s trying to get information on me for a restraining order! I wouldn’t blame him.”

“Babe, you–and I can’t stress this enough–need to take a chill pill. Sure, you asked rising rock sensation Eddie Munson to take you to Pound Town, but the man is into it. He wouldn’t text you again if he wasn’t. If anything, he would have deleted the DM and gone about his day, he probably gets hundreds of texts just like it and there is just something about you that is reeling him in. In my expert opinion-”

“I’m sorry, expert?”

“Yes, expert. Now shut up. I think you should go with it. Text him back, flirt it up, because who knows what could happen? Maybe one day he’ll follow through on your request.” Robin is giving you a manic smile, one that has an idea behind it.

You squint your eyes at her, deciphering what she could be thinking. “Robin. No, don’t you dare.”

She yelps, shocked at the way you grab for your phone. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean, don’t do whatever it is you are thinking of doing!” You stand, reaching for the phone again. That’s when she bolts. “Robin! Come back here!”

“I’m doing you a favor! You’ll thank me later! Trust me!”

You chase after her through the apartment. Your poor downstairs neighbors probably think a herd of horses is running around above them.

“I really don’t trust you, Rob! Give me the phone!”

“You’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands!” She screams as she makes a run for her room, slamming the door behind her. You catch up fast, pushing on the door and entering without a problem. She’s nowhere to be seen.

“Rob? Where are you?” You ask, knowing she can only be in one of two places in the room. She’s either shoved herself under her bed or in the back of her closet.

So, you stop and listen. You can hear the faintest of tapping sounds as her fingers furiously type away on your phone and it’s coming from under the bed. Diving to the floor, you pull the bed skirt away and see her lying there.

“Robin, I swear to god, I'm going to kill you. Give me the goddamn phone.” You grab at her ankle and pull. She begins to scream and you can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous situation.

“Stop! Stop or I swear I’ll send the message!”

You stop pulling but you don’t let go.

“How do I know you won’t just send it?”

“You have to trust me.”

Sighing, you shake your head. “This situation has destroyed my trust in you. Slide me the phone and I’ll let you go.”

“Are you negotiating with me?” The tone in her voice is almost offended.

“Yes, I am negotiating with you. Your life for my phone with an unsent message.”

Robin huffs, “Alright. Deal.” She slides the phone back to you and you let go of her foot, snatching your device off the floor.

She clambers out from under her bed but you can’t help but see the suspicious-looking face she’s making.

Hastily, you unlock your phone, and low-and-behold, there is a message from you, or rather Robin, to Eddie Fucking Munson.

Currently dying as we speak

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!” You jump forward, grab one of her many stuffed animals from her bed, and launch it full speed at her.

Robin ducks, laughing hysterically as she does so. “I’m so sorry!”

“No, you aren’t!” You throw another plushy.

She moves to grab what you’ve thrown off the floor and begins pelting them back at you. “You’re right, I’m not! I’m helping your love life!”

Soon, you both calm down, each of you falling flat onto Robin’s bed and laughing.

“I can not believe you did that.” You nudge her shoulder and she can’t help but giggle.

“I really am sorry, but where else are you going to get the opportunity to flirt with the guy you’ve liked since before he got famous?”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I actually hate that you’re right.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Unfortunately.” You groan as you stand up and begin to walk back to your room.

You’re greeted with another ding when you fall back into your desk chair. This time you check the notification. Eddie has messaged back and it has your nerves standing on end.

Could he really be flirting with you like Robin suggested? Is he like this with every girl who comes crawling into his DMs?

Against your better judgment, you open the message.

If you’re going to die, at least leave me something in your will.

That makes you laugh softly before typing back.

And what makes you think I’ve got something for you to have?

He answers quickly.

I’m sure you can think of something

No can do.

All of my belongings are going to the ole best friend

so you’ll have to take it up with her

Dang, I was really hoping for something to remember you by.

I guess these messages will have to suffice ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You catch yourself biting your lip, a blush blooming on your face.

Maybe you could think of something for me to give you…

What you were doing was a slippery slope. The ellipsis at the end of the sentence insinuates something less than innocent. You just couldn’t help it, Robin was right, he was flirting with you and obviously, your very forward first message didn’t deter him, so what was the harm in being a little risky?

The three little dots appear as Eddie types. Then they stop and start again over and over. It makes your stomach flip. Maybe you shouldn’t have been suggestive.

Oh I might have something

Your heart beat faster.

And what’s that?

I couldn’t help but go through your profile and I’m guessing you live in New York

Are you coming to the CC concert in a few days?

You aren’t too sure what he’s getting at but you answer him anyway.

Tickets were sold out in like five minutes, so unfortunately I’m not coming.

He’s quick to respond.

Well, we can't have that.

What if I put you on the VIP list? Would you come?

Are you sure? You don’t have to do that, it’s too much.

Yes, I’m sure. I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn't.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, unsure of what you should say. ‘No’ would be the best answer, the safe answer but ‘yes’ was exciting and what you wanted to say deep down. After a game of mental tug-of-war, you finally begin to type.

Alright, I’ll be there.

Great. The VIP entrance is on the north side of the venue, I'll be waiting for you.

……

The Corroded Coffin concert wasn’t for a few hours but with a mix of anxiety and excitement, you had gotten ready and made the long trek to the venue quicker than you thought you would. Luckily there was a tall man, most likely security, standing in front of what Eddie said would be the VIP doors.

He spots you as you walk closer, his arms crossed and his eyes squint at you with suspicion. Taking a deep breath, he speaks, “Can I help you?”

“I know I’m early but I should be on the VIP list.” The statement came out sounding more like a question than you had wanted it to.

“I think you have the wrong place, there’s no VIP for this concert.”

You turn your head to look back down the street and then back to the man in front of you. “This is the Corroded Coffin venue, isn't it?”

He nods, “Yeah, it is.”

Before he could continue, theres a ringing that interrupted him. Pulling his phone out he takes a glance at the screen before his eyes snap back to you. “What’s your name?”

You give it to him and before you can ask what’s happened, he steps back and opens the door. As he waives you inside, he says, “Eddie’s down the hall, to the right, and through the only red door.”

The area backstage is as grungy as expected with its black-painted cinderblock walls covered in hundreds of stickers and graffiti. The band’s equipment fills the space making the path around it extremely narrow. You squeeze past amps and instruments and step over loose cords on your way to the door where you were told Eddie would be waiting.

It’s easy to find the red door. It sits at the end of the hall one bright light shining overhead, like it’s beckoning you forward, enticing you.

You can’t help the nerves you feel, your heart pumping faster and faster, the lump in your throat. It all gets worse when you knock on the door and hear a muffled, “Yeah?”

Taking that as your cue to go in, you open the door slowly. Eddie is sitting there on a black leather couch face buried in his phone. He looks up only slightly before he moves his gaze back down only to do a fast double-take when he realizes who you are.

“Oh shit, I didn’t think you would be here this early.” He sets his phone down on the arm of the couch before standing and walking toward you.

“Why? Waiting on another girl to show up before me, trying to worm your way into someone else's will?” You ask.

Eddie shakes his head, “No, yours is the only one I’m trying to get written into at the moment.”

You can’t help the sheepish smile. “Ah, so I’m the only one for now but there will be others.”

“We’ll see,” Eddie winks, moving back to his seat on the couch.

Silence falls between the two of you. Nervously you begin to flit your eyes around the small room, fingers plying with the hem of your shirt.

“You can sit if you’d like, I won’t bite.” Eddie motions for you to sit beside him and slowly you make your way over.

Your skirt rides up and the leather of the cushion feels sticky against the backs of your legs, but it doesn’t distract you from how nervous you have become being in direct contact with one of your biggest crushes.

“You okay?”

Nodding stiffly, you respond, “Yeah, I’m good.”

He takes your hand, and the warmth radiating off him makes you feel more at ease. The nervousness slowly dissipates as you get lost in his deep brown eyes. “You seem a bit nervous, I swear I just wanted to hang out with you, no funny business,” he raised his right hand, holding up three fingers, “Scout's honor.”

Laughing, you say, “I believe you! It’s just that you’re you and I’m me.”

“You say that like I’m some kind of celebrity.”

“But you are. And it’s kinda intimidating.”

Edde laughs loudly, “Me? I’m intimidating? What about sweet ol’ me intimidates you?”

You can’t help but giggle, entranced by his liveliness. “I don’t know, probably everything?” You motion up and down at him.

“Oh come on!”

“No, really!”

He looks at you, eyebrows raised quizzically.

“I’m just shy, and you seem to exude confidence.”

“Na, that’s only on stage sweetheart. Think of it as an act.”

The longer the conversation went, the more comfortable you became. Eddie was no longer this scary rockstar sitting before you but a regular charismatic guy. Your posture was no longer rigid as you sat curled up on the couch. Eddie had gotten closer but he was still at a respectful distance.

You’re pulled from your chat when someone knocks on the door. When it opens, a short blond woman is standing with a clipboard clutched in her hand and her finger pressed to a button on the side of her headset. As she spoke into her mic she waved her clipboard at Eddie, beckoning him to come with her.

Eddie checks his phone and stands within a second. “Looks like it’s show time. Follow Chris here and she’ll lead you to the barricade. I’ll see you after?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’ll see you when the show’s over!”

……

The venue isn’t big but it feels like thousands of people are cramped into the tiny space. You’re thankful to be at the barricade where you at least have no one crowded in front of you, even if you are being squished against the metal railing.

The crowd is rowdy, chanting for the band to come out. Their screams only become louder once the lights dim and the squeal of a guitar erupts over the speakers. Your heart is in your throat as you make out the band filing onto the stage in the almost pitch blackness.

Then, in an instant, the spotlight comes on and Eddie steps forward as he plays the opening riff to their newest song.

The way his fingers dance across the frets is making you clench your legs. If his fingers could play that fast, what else were they capable of?

As he begins to strut across the stage, lyrics flow past his lips carried by a deep, sensual tune. His eyes catch yours in the crowd and from that point on, you were entranced. Your eyes never left his. No longer were you surrounded by a crowd, separated by a stage and a metal barrier. No, you were right next to him. You could feel him, his warmth, and the way his breath fanned over your face as he sang.

The concert went by with you bewitched, like a sailor hearing a siren song. Eddie seduced you with his words and movements until you were almost a puddle on the floor.

Finally, when the lights went down and the crowd filed out, a security guard came to escort you backstage once more.

The atmosphere had changed from the light-friendly one that had been there hours before. Now the air in the small room was charged. You felt the air crackling as you ended, goosebumps rose on your arms as Eddie greeted you. His eyes were filled with something more than friendliness.

Your tongue felt heavy as you tried to speak and your mouth felt dry even as saliva pooled in response to the sweaty mess that stood in front of you.

It’s like your body went into autopilot, your mind swirled as you stepped toward Eddie. Your hips swung sensually and once you were close enough to him, you reached a handout and pushed him back onto the couch.

He landed with a “humph”. His eyes followed you as you slowly fell to your knees.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?”

You look up at him though through lidded eyes. “I meant what I said the other night.” Your hands glide up his thighs, fingers barely tracing over the bulge underneath the zipper. “I want you to take my virginity.”

Eddie catches your hands. “You sure about that? I don’t want to make you feel like you have to.”

Sighing, you lean into his space, “I’m so sure.”

With nimble fingers, you unhooked the button of his leather pants, the zipper moved down on its own thanks to Eddie’s stiff cock pressing against the tight fabric.

You can't stop your mouth from salivating when you see he isn’t wearing underwear. He lifts his hips, helping you to pull his pants down. Your eyes widen at how massive he is. Eddie smirks when you look up at him through your lashes.

“Don’t worry baby, you can take it.”

You aren’t quite sure you can. He’s intimidating, especially for your first time, but he soothes you with gentle, calloused fingers brushing your cheek, pulling you to him.

With a quivering lip, you open your mouth, tongue pushing forward–waiting eagerly to taste him. You can’t help the lewd moan that erupts from the depths of your throat once Eddie’s cock is placed on your wet muscle. He’s warm, hot almost, and the bead of white at his slit tastes weird.

Your eyes meet his when you look up at him, the once-milk chocolate of his irises had turned pitch black as he watched. Slowly you close your lips around him and begin to bob up and down along his length.

“Oh- oh fuck.” Eddie choked out. His hand flew to the top of your head, harshly tugging on the strands of hair. It sent a delicious sting down your spine and a pulsing throb through your cunt.

You keep going, the whimpering moans erupting from Eddie the only encouragement you needed. His mouth is spewing filthy words, ones that would have any grandmother clutching her pearls, but no, they spur you on, had wetness soaking into your underwear. You were afraid if he didn't stop, you'd cum without having been touched.

“God damnit, your mouth is so fucking good, Baby. Fuck.” Eddie’s fingers grip tighter and his hips start to tick upward, shoving him further into your throat. You can’t stop the gag that comes at the intrusion. Pulling away a line of spit still connects your mouth to him. You take a moment to breathe, the sight of Eddie's flushed face and dark eyes fueling your desire. He looks down at you, a mixture of awe, concern, and raw need in his expression.

“Fuck, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him once you catch your breath. “I just wasn’t expecting that,” you laugh a little.

The two of you sit there for a moment, chests heaving and eyes wandering, until Eddie begins to move. He grabs hold of your arm, pulling you up and into him, his lips press to yours and you melt into him. The kiss only lasts for a few seconds before he is trailing down, tongue smoothing over your jaw and he attaches against the soft skin of your neck. The sucking you feel is a weird sensation but not at all unpleasant.

Goosebumps appear in the wake of Eddie’s fingers as they travel down your arms and to the hem of your shirt. He tugs on it slightly, prompting you to pull away so he can slip the top over your head. Deft fingers work at your bra strap as he starts kissing over your shoulder and chest, stopping to suck and nip where he pleased.

“Eddie,” you sigh.

He hums in acknowledgment.

“Need more. Please I need more.”

Without a word, he breaks away and pushes you onto your back. His hands are hot as they travel over your legs and under the pleats of your skirt. Your breath hitches in your throat when Eddie begins to drag your panties down your legs.

Embarrassment flushes over you when his eyes lay upon your needy cunt. No one has ever seen you like this, vulnerable with all your most intimate parts on display. You can’t help but shy away, gazing anywhere but at Eddie.

“Prettiest pussy I've ever seen,” he remarks as he leans closer. His tongue slips past his lips, tasting the wetness gathering at your folds. A primal moan escapes him as he begins to lap at you, drinking you in. His fingers splay over your thighs, pulling you closer as he eats you like a man starved.

“Oh! Oh fuck-” You can't help the exclamation. The feeling of his wet muscle sliding over your clit in just the right way, at just the right rhythm. Your hands grip at anything they can, trying to keep you from floating away.

You felt so good. He felt so good. Ecstasy flowed through your veins like rushing rapids, untamed and strong. Zaps of electricity could be felt throughout your body as he ate you up.

Thick fingers tease at your entrance and your legs instantly snap shut. Eddie uses his other hand to pry your thighs from around his head. “Keep ‘em open sweetheart.”

Your heart fluttered and seized when one of his digits easily slipped into you. You could feel yourself clenching around him, it wasn't enough, you needed more, needed him to stretch you out further.

“Eddie- Eddie please,” you gasp. “More!”

He hums into your cunt, the vibrations make your back arch off the sticky leather of the couch. Within seconds of your demand, Eddie is slipping a second finger inside you. You can feel the sharp cold from his rings as they come into contact with your hot skin and his thick fingers curling into you.

All that could be heard in the room were the wet sounds of the rockstar feverishly finger fucking you and the gasping moans you let out every time he licked you just right or his fingers brushed just against a sensitive spot.

Eddie removed himself from your clit with a ‘pop’, the cool air that rushed over the wetness made you shiver. “Look so fuckin’ pretty all splayed out for me, Baby. What do say we kick it up a notch hum?” He asks, voice sickly sweet.

“Yes, fuck- yes.” You agree, body thrumming with anticipation.

Slowly, he removed his fingers from you. You blushed as you watched him bring the digits to his mouth, tongue licking the remnants of you off them. “You taste so fucking good. God, I want to be between your legs forever.”

His words did something to you. Your pulse quickened and your cunt fluttered, emotions went feral inside of you. It took all your energy not to pull him into you at that moment.

“Fuck me,” you spoke, just above a whisper.

“What was that, baby?”

“I want you to fuck me, Eddie. Please, I need to feel you inside me, pounding into me. Make it so I feel you for days after I leave, I need it, I want it so bad, please.” It might have sounded desperate but you didn’t care. It was the last thing on your mind. You were so close to having him, you could just taste it and it was driving you crazy.

“Oh yeah? Want my fat fucking cock inside that tight cunt? Stretching you out, ruining you for anybody else? Hum? Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you beg, “yes, please. Want your cock in me now.”

“Alright, Sweetheart, I’ll give you what you want.”

Eddie’s large hands splayed over your hips, pulling you into the position he wanted. You watched in awe as he brought the angry red tip of his cock to your drooling cunt, gliding it through your folds and pushing it gently inside.

He was so big, just the tip of him was stretching you farther than you ever had been before. Your hips careened away from him but he held your steady.

“Not gonna hurt you, just gonna take it slow until I get all the way in,” He spoke gently, soothingly.

Nodding, you take a deep breath, trying to relax as he pushes into you inch by glorious inch.

A loud cry sounds in your throat as he bottoms out. Your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a fierce ache erupts in your abdomen.

Eddie grunts, pulling back slowly, just an inch before he pushes back inside. The tip of him presses into you, coaxing the fire in your belly. It’s only been a few minutes but you want more, you want it harder, faster, less careful. You wanted to be fucked. You wanted to know what it was like to not be able to walk straight after, wanted to experience life-altering sex with the man of your dreams.

“More,” you mewl. “More, Eddie, I want more!”

His hips pick up pace in answer his movements becoming more urgent as he responds to your plea. The room fills with the sounds of your mingled moans and the rhythmic creak of the couch. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, pushing you closer to the edge. You cling to him, lost in the sensation, as he fulfills your deepest desires.

You could feel it, a little tingling in your tummy as he fucked you deep and raw. Something you had never experienced before, not even when you had come by yourself. You were building up fast, causing your body to shake and your toes to curl as you tried to hold it off, but it was no use. You were tipping over the edge within a second.

“Oh, fuck!” You scream, head flung back into the cushion. Your chest rose in the air and Eddie held you tightly, his thrusts coming short and fast as he worked you into your rapture. “Eddie! I’m- I- I’m- Oh shit. Oh, holy shit. I’m about to-”

“I know. Can feel you squeezin’ me like a fuckin’ vice.” His arms flex as he holds you steady against his assault.

Your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave, every muscle in your body contracting with intense pleasure. Eddie continues to move within you, prolonging your ecstasy until you collapse back on the couch, utterly and completely spent. He follows soon after, his release warm on your stomach, leaving you both breathless and sated.

Laying there, you couldn’t believe what had just happened. You had just fucked the Eddie Munson… Not just fucked, you let him be your first. Who knew a drunken text could lead to something as inconceivable as having a literal rockstar fuck you until you were seeing stars.

You could feel Eddie shifting, and you opened your eyes to see him looking down at you. His lips moved, but you could hear no sound. Your heart was racing, and the blood was pumping too loudly in your ears for you to make out what he was saying.

“Huh?”

Eddie just shook his head, a smirk forming on those kiss-swollen lips. He stood from the couch, careful not to put his weight on you.

You watched him closely as he pulled his pants up his thighs and walked to a black duffel bag in the corner. He rummaged through it for a moment before coming back, a green and white package of baby wipes in tow. Taking one out he slowly wiped at the mess you had both made, cleaning you gently.

By the time he finished, the rushing in your ears had stopped. “Thank you,” you said as you sat up, pulled your skirt down, and searched for your bra and shirt.

“You don’t have to thank me, Sweetheart. Any decent person offers aftercare.” He bends down, grabs the garments you were looking for, and hands them to you.

Shaking your head, you say, “Not just for that, Eddie, for everything. I was mortified when I noticed those drunk texts, I still kinda am, but I’m glad you didn’t just block me and move on.”

“‘S’all right, I actually thought it was cute.”

“You did not… It’s so embarrassing.” You bury your face in your hands blushing as red as you possibly could.

“Oh, but I did. I wouldn’t have entertained the conversation with you if I hadn’t.”

“Mmm, okay then.” You shake your head. Standing up, you grab your stuff and look back at Eddie. “I guess I should go now, you probably have somewhere to be.” Taking a step toward him, you were going to kiss him on the cheek but thought better of it. Somehow that felt more intimate than the sex you had just had.

He caught your hand as you turned to go. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Looking back at him you spot your panties hanging from the index finger of his other hand. “Oh, sorry.” You reach to grab for them but he pulls them away.

You look at him, brow raised in confusion.

“On second thought, maybe I should keep them so I have an excuse to see you again?

#x reader #fem!reader #good god #good soup #amazing soup #10/10

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pretty-batty · 2 months ago

Text

heat

Werewolf!Eddie Munson x fem!Reader (NSFW) - Eddie’s POV

Synopsis: After recently getting changed into a werewolf, Eddie thought he was aware of all the side effects. Turns out, there’s another that comes at him like a fucking semi without brakes. And the driver? Well, fuck–that’s you.

Warnings: nsfw content; Eddie’s POV & very Eddie focused, Eddie’s in heat, lust drunk, werewolf-in-heat stuff, breeding kink lite (he doesn’t fully realize that he’s in heat), eddie’s confused but trying his best, jealous!eddie, possessive!eddie (he repeatedly refers to the reader as his), marking, some biting, nipple stim, clit stim, fingering, rough & hard & animalistic sex, car/van sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, eddie cums (buckets) in the reader and cums multiple times, creampie, some overstimulation, soft!eddie peeks out here and there

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: And what if we went with some werewolf!Eddie content on this here Valentine’s Day? Hope you like this nonsense piece :D Happy Valentine’s Day!! (Also Eddie drives a 1986 Chevrolet G20 in this fic.)

He tried. He tried so hard to keep himself together. He sat there in silence, leg bouncing beneath the table, eyes torn away from you every time he found them drawn right on back. He tried. He’d never experienced it before then. After the bite, yeah–okay, things had been exceptionally different. But this? Jesus Christ. He’d never experienced the clawing, painful draw before. It was like someone injected a liquid netting beneath his skin and braided it together with his literal being, and the second you rolled up to the restaurant, that netting was tightened.

Then you had to go and take your coat off, and that damn dress you wore?

Eddie put his hand on his knee to get it to stop bouncing. It didn’t. He was on drink number three that wasn’t doing shit to help. He was stuck there seated across from you, smelling that perfume you wore just a spritz of, and every time the vent above you kicked in and brought more to him, he was a moment closer to losing his mind. Didn’t matter how many times he asked himself what the fuck is happening? It was happening.

And he was rock hard in his pants from the second he saw you, and it was a worsening rush every time you even glanced at him. Subconsciously, consciously, with a smile, or just a blink. Dealing with the bite had been hell alone, but this? He was deep in the circles, and there was no reach to get out.

Flushed with heat, a light sheen of sweat making his clothes sticky, he lasted as long as he could. He tried. He really, really fucking tried. And you were there with a new friend who was obviously interested in you. And you looked so nice in your dress. So fucking nice.

It was your lean over the table to snag one of his untouched fries with a playful smile. That did him in. His breathing was getting too quick and his cock was straining painfully in his jeans. Nope. Fuck it. He was out of the booth in the next second, grateful he took the outside spot, and then he was gone. Didn't matter if someone said his name. He dropped a twenty on the table and just booked it.

He thought he was going to change at first. The rush of endorphins, the shaking, the incoherent thoughts he couldn't capture, the rise in body temperature. He dropped his forehead against the cold metal of his van, trembling uncontrollably, feeling a drop of sweat follow the curve of his spine. Damn it. He ripped his coat off and tossed it over the hood. His keys jingled as he fumbled with them, trying to get the side door open to at least get some of his valuables tucked away before the change.

But it was like a threshold was reached. It was a pushed line that had him panting, aching, ready to scream and howl. But that agonizing, bone-splintering pain never came. The moon wasn’t full–that should’ve been his giveaway. But still, he scratched the paint getting the key in the lock, and he damn near broke it in half trying to get it out. The growls, the rush of strength he couldn’t fight, he sincerely thought he was about to be in a whole different agony.

He threw his jacket into the back. Then pulled at his shirt. The white shirt wasn't coming off fast enough. He was ready to rip through the sweaty cotton as he burned. It was like that netting had risen in temperature, rushing through him with a voltage striking and hot. Molten, piercing through his nerves and making the blood rush south. It was soothing when he took deeper breaths.

Wait.

He dropped the stretch material, his bangs sticking to his forehead, and leaned against the side of his van. The passenger door was cool through the shirt. Cool and nice and deeper breaths brought more relief. Not full, but more. Filling his lungs, his fists began to relax. His shoulders fell. And he blinked heavy blinks down past his belt.

He was still hard. Painfully. The throbbing really kicked in as he looked at the bulge in his jeans. It didn’t make any sense. Yeah, alright, after the change, he had better senses, and his body underwent some weird changes. After he jerked off the first time, it was like he tasted heaven. But the lead-up to it hadn’t been…this. He hadn’t been pushing against his belt and boxers like he’d been injected with something. And he damn well hadn’t taken anything or had anything slipped into his drink or food. No fucking way.

One of the perks. He might’ve been a shithead, but he would’ve noticed if anyone there had suddenly swapped personalities and tried to mess with him.

This wasn't that. Fuck no it wasn't. It was something else. The similar symptoms–yeah, he was certain it had to do with the bite scar on his shoulder. Everything always had to fucking do with that lately. And like when he changed, the deep breaths were helping, but beyond that, his head was starting to clear.

Alright. He took another deep breath. Okay. Fucking hell. Alright. Another deep breath. Then another. He fished a cigarette out of his front pocket and, with a slippery grasp, he lit it. Okay. He nodded to himself. Okay, fuck. Just….

Pull it together. He dropped his hand, blowing out the long exhale of smoke, and nodded to himself. His other hand went up and pushed his hair back, forehead slick with that sheen of sweat, and gross–he felt gross. Hot and gross and sticky and hot. So hot. Burning hot.

He looked down at his lap again. His cock still straining. The rushing blood was making his head spin. For fuck’s sake. It wasn’t going down. It wasn’t stopping. It just kept throbbing. And aching. And…and….

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.

It was like someone tased him. The fucking jolt to his senses was painful when he smelt your perfume. Couldn’t see you. Couldn’t hear the clacking of your heels yet. But he could smell you, and he put the cigarette out in the center of his palm on accident as his fist formed tight and unforgivingly. He didn’t even feel the pain. The cigarette crumpled to the ground as he shuddered, growling into the night air, and both hands went back to steady him. One on the car just inside on his left and the other on the side of the opened door.

Fuck. Holy fuck.

His head fell forward and then back. That tasering sensation came through again and it was accentuated by the sound of your heels on the parking lot. Every quick step, and he…fucking hell. His pulse raced as he could fucking picture your mouth parting to shout his name. You didn’t have to–he was damn certain he’d hear you whisper it from across the lot. He sure as hell felt it like a molten touch on his stomach.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He started to bend the damn inner material of the car. He couldn’t do it. Holy hell. No, he couldn’t. He tried to climb in so he could at least hide from you, but he couldn’t move. His cock throbbed and his head spun. The air was a humid heat around him, and the sweat was back. Thick and coating him in a way that felt like it was beneath his skin.

He heaved a deep, desperate breath, and that only brought more of you.

So much of you.

Christ. He’d never…. You were you.

And you were there, running up to the side of his car, breathing quickly and sputtering out his name in desperate concern. Fuck. He couldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t look at you. He even tried to push himself away again as your feet brought you right up to him, and your hands were a wonderful, searing cold on his chest and his arm.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Do you need to go to the hospital?” you asked, the worry in your voice like a drug. Why the hell were you so worried about him? He took another deep breath, and right there, with you right fucking there…. He leaned in and dropped his arms as you pressed yourself against his side. You held him upright, plastering yourself to him in that skin-tight dress. The perfect red. The perfect cut. A little pearl necklace hung down and had given your friend how many excuses to look at your chest? “Eddie, shit. You’re burning up. Um. Crap. Crap. Get in, okay? We have to get you to the emergency room like now.”

He could feel your heartbeat in his own. Every hard thump making his head spin faster and faster. He felt every breath you took against him, your chest pressing harder and harder as you wrangled him into the back seat. Chest to chest, something gave in, and he fell. Slumping like a hypnotized man with his eyes fluttering open to look at you. Over him. Leaning into the car with both hands on his knees, chest still heaving.

He couldn’t speak.

You said his name again, a heat in you he could sense deep in your chest even as you reached up. Even as you used such a gentle touch to cup his cheek. That worry in your eyes was intoxicating. He tore at the side of the seat as you blinked, waiting desperately for a response. Something that said he wasn’t fucking lost somewhere else.

But he was.

He was trying really, really fucking hard not to lose himself to that last animalistic instinct.

"Okay," you nodded nervously. You buckled him in, and the press of the seatbelt was agony. He damn near ripped it off, but you were still there. You were taking his keys from their chain. Your eyes snagged on his lap, and there was no pretending you hadn't seen anything. Your breath hitched in the slightest lingering, and Eddie…. Hell.

He tensed every muscle in himself just to be able to fucking grunt out a few words.

“I’m fine,” he said, bringing a hand to yours to try and take his keys. His eyes clamped shut as he shook his head. “I just…it’s nothing. ‘Kay?”

He didn’t believe himself. Hard to when his hand wrapped around yours, and it felt like home. He couldn’t even bring himself to snatch the keys away. Try. He sat forward, stopped by the seatbelt, and cursed with a growl.

He could sense every hair on you standing on edge.

“You don’t look fine, Eds,” you whispered.

Fuck no. Not once. Not fucking once. No. Not one fucking time had he ever heard you shorten his name, and his body felt like it'd been struck by lightning. Did he fucking enjoy the little connection that always flashed in your eyes every time you called him that? Yeah. But this was really, really fucking different. Jesus Christ. His shoulders slumped as he found your eyes. Your pretty, worried eyes.

Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

He had the sense to keep screaming that at himself.

"Your boyfriend's back there waiting on you,” he breathed. Seethed, really. His new impatience and adrenaline were mixing with something else he really wasn’t interested in tapping into. “Shouldn’t fucking keep him.”

Your frown was something special. Seeing your mouth form it was torment. His hands twitched to move up closer to it, but he kept them where they were. Including still on your hand. Though, the second those words left him, your hand fell. You’d won, too. His keys were in your hand.

“He’s not….” You shoved his shoulder. Tried to shove him. But he didn’t budge. You went still, breath hitching, eyeing him as he sat there, eyes glued to you in a fierce heat, checking over him again. “What the fuck did you take, Eddie?”

He cracked a smile. Don’t. “Nothing,” he answered.

Don’t. The slight tension in your upper body brought his eyes over your throat and your shoulders, bare beneath that jacket cause of the damn tiny straps on the dress. His cock ached and pressed painfully against his zipper.

“Bullshit,” you stepped back and flicked your eyes over him. “I’m taking you to the hospital, and when you’re sober, you can stop being an ass.”

Fuck, no. No.

He started to reach to stop you, but he was slowed in his current state. You got the door shut before he could stop you. And he could’ve opened it. He could’ve gotten out and left. But you would’ve chased him down, and that would’ve required more physical contact. He couldn’t survive that. He knew damn well another touch from you would somehow make him explode.

But he hadn’t thought too far ahead.

It hit him as you backed out of the spot and pulled onto the main road.

Overwhelmed being trapped in an enclosed space with you was one thing. There wasn’t a breath he could take without you being on it. But you were trying to take him to the hospital. No. Fuck. Fuck.

“No hospital,” he barked, leaning back in the seat and pressing his head back.

“Are you kidding me? Ed–”

“No, I need you to fucking listen to me.” He clamped his eyes shut. He was wheezing a little. The line was being pushed. It wasn’t holding. Every breath, every look at you–every look was at you. He couldn’t look elsewhere. Everything was just you, and he was going mad. "You can't take me to a hospital. Just…pull over."

You laughed, and were it not so taken aback sounding, he might've lost himself in it gracefully. But it was grating. He wanted to pull his shirt off with how it rubbed against him wrong.

“I’m not pulling over. Are you kidding me? You’re clearly on something, and you’re burning up. I’m taking you to the doctor. Sorry that I don’t want you to fucking die.”

The car rolled to a stop at a stop sign. The road was empty.

The line was pushed. The line was snapped. He didn’t bother unbuckling the seatbelt. It tore clean through the yank he gave it, and you yelped even before he came up behind you. You…. There. You were there. Right there. In a blink, your cheek was against his. Warm and soft and intoxicating. He stalled, his hand reaching forward and pressing against yours.

Jesus….

The line….

He never knew hunger like he did right then. And he didn’t even think he had it in him as he shoved the car into park and jerked the keys out of the ignition. You were still beside him for that moment. And when the car cut off, when he started to lean back and throw his door open, you were back to your reality.

Fresh air hit him for only a second. It was a blissful second before you were in front of him, hands on his shoulders as his feet hit the ground, and it was a standoff. A dangerous standoff that brought you face to face, and Eddie…. Don’t. He tried. He really, really, really fucking tried. He thrashed about inside just before that last semblance of coherence faded into the obscurity of the hunger pummeling through him.

Every attempt to push him back into the van just made it worse. Every breath you pushed out with every shove. The soft grunts you made as you tried and tried and tried. The quiet whine that joined your fingers trying to claw the keys out of his hand. He hit the wall, and his control was a piece of chalk in his hand.

Your heels slipped on the rocky edge of the road, and you fell against him, both hands on his chest. Could you feel his heart? He could feel yours. And it was racing rapidly as you stood against him, chest to chest, breathing him in as he breathed in you.

“Go back to the fucking restaurant,” he breathed. The position…. Christ. It brought your cheek just in front of his mouth. He was agonizingly aware that you hadn’t stepped away from him yet. “Please. I didn’t take anything. I’ll be fine, but only if you just go the fuck away.”

The soft slumping was torture. His cruelty wasn’t intentional, but his desperation was driving him. You had both hands on his chest then, the touch softening in the worst way. And your breathing…shifted. Lost its rhythm. Wrong. It was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. And you nodded once. Defeated. So damned defeated.

“Fine,” you muttered. “Fine.”

No. He couldn’t. The hurt in your voice. The pain. You didn’t even get to start your step back before his arm was around your waist. He wasn’t going to let go. He knew it the fucking second he pulled you flat against him. It was right. It was stroking that hunger to a degree that was blinding. And he damn well actually considered thanking some godly being when he felt the immediate shift. Not anger. Not betrayal. Not disgust. Not fear. Any of those, and he would’ve torn his own arm off if he had to. But no. No, no. As he fell head first into that deplorable hunger, there was the quickening of your heartbeat, the rising heat that made your breathing increase with a steady, shuddering rhythm. The drop of your eyes to his mouth as his opened to find yours. And your fingers wrinkled his shirt as you planted them on his chest.

“Eds?” you whispered.

He tried. He really, really tried.

But his keys were a loud thud on the car floor.

He cupped the back of your head and brought his mouth to yours.

He really tried.

You met him. As little time as you had to react, you leaned in as much as you could. The world was gone. The taste of you, the plush feel of your lips, that soft, wanting sound that fell from you that made no fucking sense–there was just animal instinct left. The night became alight and full shadows all at once. Nothing, nothing, nothing could’ve pulled him back from you except for you.

Melding against you, the kiss never having a moment to even be anything chaste, he burned. A lit fuse tearing through him, even he couldn’t keep up. He couldn’t get enough. He couldn’t satiate anything when it just kept growing.

The press of your body to his, the feel of your waist in his hands, the soft sighs from your lips, the taste of you on his tongue, your ass in his hands as he squeezed– He growled against your mouth. Your dress rode up as he kneaded your ass, wrinkling the material he knew was way too fucking expensive.

“Eds,” you whimpered.

The sound…the sweet, breathy sound.

Something snapped.

Something deep, something beastly. He slammed both hands out, gripping his van, shuddering out his next breath. Face buried in the crook of your neck, he breathed. Deep, hungry breaths. He itched beneath his skin in a way that felt like it could never be satiated.

“Get in,” he breathed, taking in the taste of you on his tongue, your skin soft and warm and you tasted so sweet. “Or go back.”

It was the only words he could choke out. They burned in the air at the edges like steel wool. Sparks erupted as your head fell back, your hands still on his shirt, pulling what was left in that elasticity. Your body curved to stay against his, but in your lean, he had to return to you. Had to hold you. Had to keep you upright as your knees buckled.

He couldn’t help himself. His teeth were a sharp draw over your throat.

You shuddered in his arms.

“In,” you sputtered. “In, Eds.”

Like a collar had been removed, everything heightened. He pulled you in, eliciting a small yelp in the process, and slammed his door shut. In the shadows, everything became newly alight.

His growl was low and filled the space predatorily.

His restraint broke.

The sounds you made were heavenly. It was blinding need coursing through him. You–you were the centerpoint. The pinpoint. The light at the end of the tunnel and the very reason the tunnel was there in the first place. You, you, and so effortlessly and all-consumingly–you.

He felt it, and he felt you. How the world became color again. There was no immediate relief, no. But the escalation, the bared skin, the whines and the whimpers and the sounds that fell from both of you…. His mind was blank in the expedited, intoxicating hunger. A puppet master and the puppet all in one.

He fell.

His fingers splayed wet on the back of your neck. Twice. He recalled that briefly. He felt you cum twice around his fingers after you shoved your underwear aside for him. Kneeling against the thick seat, face against the headrest, fingers clawing at the sides, he felt how wet you were for him. Before he’d even touched you. Your underwear soaked–a want he hadn’t even realized he could fucking smell on you. And when it clicked, as he pressed two fingers into you and unzipped the back of your dress just enough to bare your chest, he was driven by you. Pumped his fingers rough and deep, finding that spot that had you near screaming, holding you by your shoulder as your whole body moved with him.

Twice. That’s all he could wait.

Then those wet fingers ran over your cunt as he unbuckled his belt. The relief, the immediate relief was wrong. He felt thick and huge, and the ache, the throbbing–it wasn't stopping. He needed to be inside of you. Needed to feel you. Needed to fill you. And his thoughts glazed over as you pushed your hips back, panting and whining as you brought yourself to his tip.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He pushed in.

There was no other place he was supposed to be. There was no other feeling in the world as fucking insane as that. Euphoric–fucking maddeningly euphoric. He pushed in, feeling your cunt flutter as you took him. He was a lot–more than he should’ve been–but there was no stopping to make sense of what he couldn’t. You were gasping against the headrest, wrapping your arms around it in a needy embrace, whining his name like a fucking performance just for him.

And the next sound out of him was more beastly than when he turned on full moons.

Balls deep, feeling you shudder as something locked him in place, his moan was edged with a growl. Deep from his chest, it fell over the van, and you…he felt you clench. And you clenched hard.

Like two puzzle pieces clicked together–it made sense. His head fell back, and a new sensation tightened in his balls. Made sense. He tightened his grip on your neck exponentially. Yes. He burned. He fucking burned like kerosene. Burned in his bones, in his soul, in the mark on his shoulder searing the ugly fangs into him. His balls hurt and he grabbed you by your hip, the dress tearing under his tightening grasp and sharpening nails.

You.

He pulled back until just his tip stayed in.

You. You. You.

He rutted forward and the whole van moved.

You.

You moaned hard against the seat, his name a stutter as his hips reared back and he rutted forward again. Again. Again. Again. Gaining speed, gaining strength, gaining a rough edge that had you sobbing as you began to clench around him. You.

You. You. You.

Damn it–you.

The tunnel honed in harder on you. He could see you in the dark, even without the moonlight creeping in. How your back arched, how your dress tore beneath his hands and stretched from yours as you pulled it up more and more. How you managed to look back at him, tears in your eyes, teeth on your lip, thighs trembling as he fucked you harder, body jolting with every thrust as you began to shake. Your chest pressed against the seat, and he ached to feel them, to see them, to have them.

You. He had to have you. Had to. You were his.

Like that.

As he reached around and took you by the front of your throat, pulling you back until you were on your knees taking him, pressing your mouth to his jaw and sputtering his name…. His mouth watered as he looked down at you. The endless sounds you made, the bounce of your tits and your nipples in peaks…. He brought your mouth to his as he closed his hand tighter, and his other went lower.

His. His. He snarled into the kiss like the beast he was, and he brushed his fingers over your clit without reprieve.

“More,” he breathed into the kiss.

He knew you could cum again. Could feel it. Needed to feel it.

Like he’d given you a fucking command, the second his fingers found a steady rhythm, you were falling apart on his cock. Drenching it as he rutted so deep, he was hitting places in you he damn well knew nobody else ever had. The fucking guy you’d brought with you never would. No. A searing rage flickered in a glimpse. You screamed his name as he kept his fingers on your clit, and your cunt stayed clenched.

His. You were his. His. He nipped at your jaw. His. His. His.

You were Eddie’s. Just Eddie’s. Just like that–you were his.

His balls tightened. His cock twitched. You choked on a moan as you came again, writhing atop his cock as he gave you no reprieve from the last climax before that one. And the harsh fluttering, the sweet warmth of you, your scent, your taste, your everything. He pressed his hand against your lower belly where his cock was taking you as his, and he saw white. White-hot. Searing, unforgettable ecstasy–the netting inside of him released just a little, and his eyes clamped shut.

You both fell forward as he came inside of you, not able to even attempt pulling out, and it…. It felt…. He kept his tight embrace, thrusting hard as you both grunted. It wasn’t ending. It came, it peaked, and he spilled deep inside of you, but he couldn’t stop. He kissed your shoulder as he scrambled, the clinking of his belt echoing in the van, and he kept going.

More.

Your whines grew. You clenched around him again.

“More, fuck.” He held you close, thrusting just as hard as before. Continuing. Continuing. Continuing. The loud squelching of every thrust joined the symphony of your sounds. “Fuck, you feel fucking perfect.”

Harder. Deeper. He couldn’t leave you. He couldn’t stop. Mind drowning as his body was dragged under. Your body moved with his, and he brought a hand to your chest. Rolling your nipple between his fingers, tweaking, tugging, feeling your dress stick to you as your bodies stayed together….

He couldn’t think. Just felt. Just felt. Just felt you. You, you, you. Just felt you.

His–you were his.

His. Only his.

He brought his mouth to your neck and found a tender spot. The perfect tender spot. The tender spot that made you flutter around him and whine. His. He’d mark you. His. His. His. He kissed lower, dragging his teeth without breaking skin, then kissed the tender spot, drawing a hickey over it next. Then, on your shoulder. Then along it, toward the back.

His. His.

His balls tightened as you whined his name.

He dropped his hand and found your clit again. The white-hot feeling rushed him again. His. You. You were his. Only his. And his world erupted again. Again, he came. Hips pressed flat against your ass, he spilled inside of you, his entire body shaking, the sensation hot and euphoric. His eyes rolled back yet still. You both collapsed on the floor, Eddie barely catching the both of you, and he hugged you. Kept you embraced against him.

His balls still ached.

How? There was little coherence, but there was enough. He panted next to your ear as he hooked his arm under your leg, lifting it and locking it up. His body moved on desperation, on hunger. He couldn't pull out of you even if he'd tried. You. You. You full of him. He used his right arm as a pillow under your head and his left to keep your leg locked open. That hand found your clit, and all it took was his thrusts. He couldn’t stop. Your bodies jerked as he fucked you faster, the lingering sensation lingering. His balls throbbed and tightened–it wasn’t stopping. It wasn’t. He couldn’t stop.

He needed you. Needed to cum in you. Needed to cum in you until there was nothing left to give you. You. Just you. Only you.

"Little more," he croaked out by your ear. "Please. Fuck. Just a little more. Fuck.”

He could feel his cheeks flushing. Sweat trickled down his temple. He rubbed your clit as you arched into him, nodding frantically. Like you felt it, too. Fuck. Could you? He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t do anything except look down at you like you were sculpted by the gods. Couldn’t do anything but thrust into you and feel you, want you, need you. A hunger growing as he watched you take it. Deep thrusts jerking the car. You. Your head back against him as you began to shake again.

You took him so well. You came so hard. And you still wanted. His body cinched in ecstasy as he saw the mess between your thighs, at the waste–waste. His body jolted and he rutted deep and stayed deep, switching to frantic thrusts, rubbing your clit a little faster and feeling you shudder as you screamed for him.

He came again.

And then again.

And then one last time.

On the floor of his van, the two of you intertwined, his cum leaking out of you. Panting. You limp and shaking. Sweaty. He kissed your shoulder as the slightest bit of coherence came to. As he looked down at you in your ruined dress, resting softly, eyes cracking to look up at him sleepily yet softly.

His.

He reached over you and cupped your jaw. Still inside of you, bodies sticky and sweaty, he brought your mouth to his. The kiss was slow and deep. He couldn’t even joke about the line crossed for he’d obliterated it. It was dust lost on the floor where your bodies came together. Cause there was no going back–no. Not even if you both could pretend this hadn’t happened. Fuck no. No. As you smiled into the kiss, as you murmured his name on that soft, strained, sweet voice of yours, you were his. Like someone had tattooed you in his damn self.

His.

He deepened the kiss, the taste of you so damn addicting.

But you put a hand on his cheek and pushed him back just a little, and he reeled back the rest of the way. He waited, his heart lurching in sudden fear. Pain. Worry.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked abruptly, cutting you off before you even parted your pretty mouth to speak. His voice was rough and raw. Just as yours was, and you were the one who’d been screaming the entire time to the point where he had to cover your mouth.

“No,” you said with a crooked smile. “I mean, I’m not going to be able to sit down for like a week, but, Eds….” You leaned back. His heart stilled. Your fingers ran over the edge of that damn scar, barely visible where his stretched shirt collar fell to the side. “I need you to tell me what’s going on with you. Cause this…? We just….”

He watched your throat bob. Your smile turned wry.

His. His body began to burn with that deep voltage again. That caged netting. His balls tightened and ached. Nothing was making sense, and you seemed to know that. But when he smelled you, when he felt you, when you just looked at him, he was driven mad.

“It’s a long fucking story,” he breathed.

And you nodded once.

“It’s a long drive back to my apartment.”

His.

His hands itched, and he just slowly nodded. Yeah. He felt you flutter around him as his hips moved on their own, thrusting gently and shallowly into you. Another mess made as your eyes fluttered shut, and he held you close, keeping with those shallow thrusts even if his body screamed to fuck you as hard as he had before.

His.

He kissed your temple, shuddering as his climax rushed him quickly that time.

It turned into a deep groan as he spilled inside of you. Again.

You were…his.

He kissed your temple as his hips came to a standstill, and you sighed happily.

Guess…guess he had to tell you.

“‘Kay but…” he murmured, flicking his tongue against the shell of your ear.

You shuddered again and whined. He started to thrust into you again, just as slowly, just as gently.

“I need to. One more time. Fucking…. Please.” He nuzzled the side of your head. “It’s killing me. Fuck. I don’t even know why, but you’re fucking maddening. I just…one more.”

You were already nodding. Jesus Christ. You were nodding gently and with a smile.

His.

He hugged you close and didn’t let go.

Fucking hell. Whatever was happening to him made no sense, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't fight it. He tried so hard to keep the line from breaking, and now he was in balls deep. And you were fucking his.

He just…had to find the right way to explain that to you.

He peered down and watched his cock rut into you.

After.

He bit down on your shoulder as his body tensed and pleasure pummeled through his veins.

You were his.

He came again, cock deep and body finally relaxing.

Good.

All felt right. You felt right. All felt fucking perfect.

You stayed like that as the minutes ticked by. Together. Perfect. So fucking perfect. And he finally fucking knew relief.

Now he just had to hope you understood the nonsense he was about to tell you and that the sensation never fucking came back. If it did, and he had to be around you again like nothing had happened….

Another layer of hell would be welcoming him in.

But it…it wasn’t going to happen again. Yeah. He was fine. It was a total fluke.

He smiled as you both relaxed, breathing easily and just staying tangled together.

Yeah.

He basked in you as the ache began to fade into a soft, tingling warmth.

It was just a fluke.

#x reader #fem!reader #werewolf!eddie #monster!eddie #monster fucker #good soup #hoooo that was intense

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