#Predator/prey dynamics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaizanna · 1 year ago

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The Company You Keep

The Blood Pet

Predator/prey dynamics, Astarionxf!Tav

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For the first time since their formal introduction, there was no trace of the tiefling’s usual charming smile, and her doe-like silver eyes were bright with alarm. Stepping back, the little beast tried to gain control over her expression again, but the damage was done. There was no missing how those fluffy ears pressed against her skull, how she curled her tail between her knees, or the sudden racing of her heart.

The instinct to hunt roared through Astarion at the recognition of her fear, hunger clawing so insistently that he felt lightheaded. She looked so deliciously defenseless, like a lamb separated from the herd. Prowling nearer, he breathed in her scent; the subtle sweetness of honeysuckle and musky sandalwood paired deliciously with the tartness of fright, making his mouth water.

First, thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures.

Like a bucket of ice water was dumped down his head, Cazador's voice made Astarion falter mid-step. Of course. Of fucking course! The first time I've ever even felt the fucking urge to hunt someone, and I-

“I don't know where my master is, and even if I did- I wouldn't tell you anything.” As defiant as she tried to sound, the poor darling's melodic voice still quavered, and she was practically prancing in place, cloven hooves splashing in the water.

For once in his miserable undeath, that bastard's voice was drowned out by that vicious roaring tide of predatory need.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Feeling much like a cat with a mouse, the elf was torn between wanting to toy with her, and to pounce. With his shoes just barely out of the reach of the running water, she was also just out of reach. Briefly, he considered the rushing waters, before returning his attention to the tiefling. “That's not what I asked you, is it?” With a tentative step, Astarion submerged his foot. Under normal circumstances it should feel like acid brining his flesh, but now the only consequences were a wet foot, and a soggy sock.

Another boon granted by my squirming little friend, I see.

Emboldened, Astarion took another step forward, and watched her run her back into the rough stone of the cavern with satisfaction. The little beast's gaze flitted to her left and right, desperately searching for an escape. It was too late now, of course. Even if she screamed to awaken the others, there was nothing she could do to get away from him in time.

Though, it might have been fun if she had run.

Looming over her now, he braced his left hand against the wall beside her head, trapping her between him and the wall. Before he could settle in above her, she tried to use one of her little black horns to gore his cheek. Dodging her effort, he snatched a horn with his free hand, and yanked her head to the side, fully exposing her neck to him. Lavishing in the feeling of predatory adoration, he leaned down to coo his next words into her ear. “I asked… What. Might. You. Be?”

Even with inches between their bodies, he could feel her shivering, causing his canines to ache all over again. Focusing on the bites on the left side of her neck, Astarion studied them with vague interest. There was a relatively fresh bite on this side of her slender neck, perhaps having been made the same day she had been abducted. The scars around them, however, were deep and white from age. Clearly, the beast had been with her master for a considerable amount of time, and must have been fed from often.

Watching that lovely, frantic heartbeat jumping against the scarred skin of her throat, the desire to leave the imprint of his own fangs grew stronger.

What if I can bite her? I can walk in the sun, walk through running water- the rules of the vampire are broken. Why would Cazador's rules be any different? Astarion speculated, only to be drawn back to the present by her voice.

“I don't know what you-” Though she had tried to sound confident, a growl from him silenced her immediately, and he watched her throat as she swallowed nervously.

“Don't lie now, lamb. It's unbecoming.” For a moment, it seemed she was going to try to stay silent, but another rumbling growl brought her answer.

“I'm a blood pet…” Astarion grinned victoriously at her whimpered confession. Of course he'd been right. Between a vampire's thrall and a vampire's pet, her charms and behavior certainly had the airs of a cherished pet indeed. Willing servants like her kind were plentiful at the palace; pathetic little mortals all too happy to serve their bodies and blood to Cazador for the vaguest promise of his gift. Despite the contempt he felt for what she was, he nuzzled at the soft shell of her ear, tracing a path down her jaw where he placed a mockingly sweet kiss that left her covered in goosebumps.

“And now, do you know what I am?”

“I- I don't know.”

“I think you do, actually. In fact, I think somewhere deep in that fluttering heart of yours, you've known since you met me.” Astarion was thrilled with the sound of her skipping heart when his words sunk in. Though she tried to shove him away, it felt half hearted at best. Keeping her subdued was a simple matter of pinning her body fully with his, allowing him a chance to savor in her warmth.

“But vampires can't walk in the daylight!” She hissed defiantly, keeping her voice surprisingly low.

“Nor can we walk through flowing water, but here I am, aren't I?”

“But how?” Here, the beast sounded so sweetly bewildered, that he couldn't help but to chuckle, his lips close enough to brush the shell of her ear. Though it caused another shiver, there was little something other than fear in the action this time.

“Your guess is as good as mine, darling. Now, I must say- I am utterly famished and you smell delicious…” Astarion ran his lips over the healing bite wound, and opened his mouth wide, ready to add his own imprints to her skin when she spoke.

“Not my neck, please.” Though the plea was whispered, it surprised him enough to release her. . It was not the kind of request he'd been expecting. Retreating a step, he examined her tear-ruddied face with bewilderment

“What?”

“My neck belongs to my master.” The woman didn't look at him, just raised her hands to her face to wipe away the freely falling tears. So engulfed in his hunger, he'd barely noticed when she'd begun, and a pang of something he couldn't quite place gave him further pause.

It would be a lie if he tried to say he hadn't had her pegged as an easy target from the moment he'd laid eyes on her, though for what was currently at war in his mind. As a shield? As a meal? As a gift for Cazador if everything blew up spectacularly in his face? Yet here she was, only concerned that he not bite her neck so she may continue to be her master's loyal beast. Though he loathed to admit it to himself now, he could only find her pitiful as she suddenly looked at him through resigned eyes.

“And that's your only request?”

“Perhaps don't kill me?”

Of course the concern for her own life is only secondary. Outwardly, he scoffed, bringing his hand over his dead heart like she had wounded him.

“I'm offended darling- truly. I know I came on a lit~tle strongly just now, but I did mean it when I said I was famished.” Astarion offered a deceitfully contrite smile. “And I must say, I've never had a darling little treat like you under fang before. Things like pigs, chickens,-” Rats. “- and other smaller game are my usual fare. Whatever I can catch, really.” Offering the hand he’d held over his heart, he continued. “So I do apologize for scaring you- I didn't intend to take my little game so far... Forgive me?”

The creature eyed his hand cautiously, before searching his eyes. Either she really was that easy to manipulate, or she had no idea what to do without a vampire around, because she placed her petite hand in his after only a short debate.

Far too easy.

Herding her back to the stoney bank of the underground river, Astarion brought her to sit next to her stack of clothing, then knelt beside her. With care, he flipped her arm over to expose her veins, and realized it too, was painted in old scars. These scars were very clearly made by a blade however, and the man wondered idly if he would be the first besides her master to bite her. Encircling her delicate wrist with one hand, he cupped her elbow in the other, and raised his crimson gaze to meet her silver stare. Since she was watching, he placed a kiss over one of the palest of the scars, and was amused by the gooseflesh that rose to cover every inch of her slate gray skin.

Partaking in blood had never been something Astarion found pleasure in. Choking down fetid rat blood whilst trying not to vomit in front of Cazador was commonplace. Their fur was always utterly vile from the odor and taste of the sewers, and the nauseating flavor was drawn in with every mouthful of blood. Chickens were a little better, since he was able to rip out fistfulls of the dusty feathers before drinking their musty flavored blood. After a particularly bright idea, he bought a bucket of pig blood under the guise of making it into a pudding. The blood had a nutty hint to it, and although he’d considered it among the least offensive tastes he’d come across, that was only so if he managed to get it right after slaughter.

Assuming this would be akin to the latter experience if he was lucky, Astarion sheathed his fangs in her skin. The first taste of her blood cast away all but two words.

Well…Shit.

Unable to control his own body, the spawn curled his whole body around her arm possessively, withdrawing his teeth to let her blood flow unhindered into his greedy mouth. With every beat of her heart, warmth spread through him, chasing away the pervasive chill that had coiled deep in his bones for as long as he could remember. Despite doing his best to keep up with her pulse, it felt as though he could never swallow fast enough, and he distantly mourned the steady stream that dripped down his chin.

All too soon, he could feel her heart start to slow, and as desperate as he was to drink the tiefling dry, he could feel her tadpole connecting with his. It was a wordless communication, and without wholly understanding why, he pressed his tongue firmly against the two puncture marks. Slowly, the wound knit together under his tongue. Once the bleeding had come to an end, Astarion gently lapped at blood that was cooling on her skin.

How long did I drink? Two minutes? Three? The spawn’s thoughts floated pleasantly through his head. It was a strange feeling- like being blissfully intoxicated, but also so intensely clear that it was like a fog was lifting from all his senses. Once her arm was free from any stray drops, he slowly released her, watching her arm come to rest next to a small pool of her own blood that had dripped down her thigh. Raising a hand, he caught the lingering traces of his meal from his chin, and began to lick his fingers. Staring idly at her spread thighs, he debated on bending over to lick away the small trails there. But then, her thighs were stained with a nectar other than blood as well.

Tracing his gaze up her body, he noted the sprinkling of both a pale-silver and dusky-gray freckles over her wide hips. They came again to decorate from her narrow shoulders, and continued down the slopes of her breasts. Some time during his feeding, she had covered her face with her free arm, and must have bitten her lip in a bid to remain silent judging from the little punctures he spied there. Now though, she uncovered her face enough to stare through half-lidded eyes. Such a hazy look of pleasure was one he had seen before, though never truly worn himself.

Is that really all it takes for her? Lazily rising to his feet, he began to roll his neck, closing his eyes and enjoying the unfamiliar sensation radiating through his body. If only half of my other marks were as easy to bring to release. He didn’t bother to quiet the humorless chuckle that accompanied that thought.

“Do you feel better, Astarion? You certainly look better.” The woman’s tone was relaxed and clear, nothing like the trembling lamb he’d very nearly attacked. Amused, he opened his eyes to give her a playful response.

“I must say, I feel like I’ve drank an entire bottle of mead in a single sitting.” A dazzling laugh danced through the cave at his compliment.

“I’ve been compared to alcohol many times. Careful you don’t become an alcoholic.” The wink she gave at the warning was flirty, and he found himself offering her a wicked grin in response.

He liked the way her heart skipped at the sight.

“I’ll have to be quite careful, it seems. But I do have to ask-” Astarion let his gaze drift down pointedly between her legs, before returning to meet her unabashed stare. “Does that happen often for you?”

“Often enough.” She admitted casually, though she sat up, crossing her legs at the ankle and cupping her hands in her lap. If she was fully dressed, he could have mistaken her for a noble.

“Ah… Is that why your neck belongs to your master?”

So quickly did a look of shame cross her face at the question, that Astarion very nearly missed it; when her smile had returned so sincerely, he doubted what he saw.

“You can certainly say that. Now then, if you don’t mind- it seems I’ll have to wash myself again, thanks to a certain messy someone.” Standing on shaking legs, she gave him a dismissive wave, then quietly clopped back into the river where her bathing supplies now lay scattered.

Though he stared at her scar streaked back for several long seconds, the vampire turned, and made his way to the hidden ladder. It wasn’t until he felt the clear night air caressing his face that he realized something.

The tiefling had used magic to charm him when their tadpoles connected. Though not a word had been spoken, she had gotten him to heal her wound- something he didn’t know he could do- and withdraw, despite his original intention to simply drain her to the last drop.

Fury coursed through him, his lip pulling over one fang in an awful sneer.

Me? She charmed me? How dare that wretched little- Slamming the trapdoor closed, he stormed away, gritting his teeth hard enough for them to ache once more, and clenching his fists hard enough for his nails to bite into his skin. The scent of his own blood disturbed him from his mental cursing, and he paused to look down at his hand in the moonlight.

Only a few hours ago, his blood had dripped like heavy molasses when one of those bandits had managed to hit him with an arrow, yet it now dripped freely. Of course he knew it was thanks to her that he felt this good, and that it was her blood that seeped from his wound so easily. Bringing the palm of his bleeding hand to his mouth, Astarion licked it away, only barely able to find traces of the honey-like sweetness of her blood beneath his own bitter flavor. As soon as it dawned on him he was actually searching for her taste, he scowled to himself, and pressed his tongue to the wound. When he pulled his hand back to examine it, he found the tiny wound healed over like it had never even been.

I suppose I can forgive her for charming me, just this once. Astarion mused to himself. Since she did feed me willingly. The rustling of a distant bush drew his attention, and he crouched low, turning on the balls of his feet in the direction it came from. The nearer he prowled, the stronger the scent of swine became, and the louder the quiet snorts became.

Pouncing, Astarion broke the boar’s front leg before the animal knew he was even there. As it squealed, he snapped his fangs into its jugular, practically tearing the artery apart. Blood gushed into his maw while the boar’s cries slowly faded into silence, its lashing hooves falling still. Once there wasn’t a single drop of blood remaining, the elf stood, wiping his face and looking down at his meal with disgust.

Wild and stinking, its odor pervaded his nose, and the bland flavor of the boar’s blood lay thickly on his tongue. Spitting out the remaining mouthful, a fresh scowl darkened his expression as he comprehended a massive drawback from drinking the tiefling’s blood.

Having lived his whole life drinking what amounted to gutter water, Astarion couldn’t fathom having to return to this. Drinking only from unthinking creatures, tasting and scenting only the malodorous and vile? Watching the people around him, and knowing each and every one was like an entire feast of flavors that he could never sample?

Leering down at the boar at his feet, Astarion made a vow to himself. I’ll learn how to control this tadpole, and no one will ever control me again.

—-

The heavy slam of the trapdoor echoed through the underground cavern, causing Vierae’s ears to twitch. Glancing over her shoulder, she waited, barely breathing, as she strained to hear any sounds come from where the encampment was. After several minutes, the woman's whole body deflated, slumping forward to hug at her knees. The shame she had felt from his otherwise playful question came crashing down on her, and she buried her face in her arms, choking back the tears that burned her eyes.

Pathetic animal. Can you not even control yourself in front of your owner? Caretaker Zadock’s sneering words still reverberated through her skull, making her wrap her tail around herself in a weak bid for comfort. Flinching against a phantom blow, she couldn’t chase his voice out of her mind. I eagerly wait for the day he grows tired of your little play and sends you back to the pens. Our master would never waste the gift on a beast like you, after all.

Dirty. I’m so fucking dirty- Vierae couldn’t get the feeling of her caretaker’s fingers off her skin, or his teeth from her neck, despite the years it had been since he had last touched her in such a way.

Snatching the bucket at her side, she filled it with the cold water and dumped it down her head, but it was not the cold that left her shivering. The feeling of her hair moving along her back was like a threatening caress, causing her to drop the bucket in her haste to tie her hair back off her skin. As soon as it was done, she searched for her soap, and found it bobbing between two rocks. While tears fell hotly down her cheeks, Vierae viciously scrubbed her skin, starting between her legs.

The tiefling had never been on the receiving end of her owner’s ire before, and was terrified of what was to become of her now. The elder vampire had given her a great gift of trust, allowing her to travel on the surface in search of finery to decorate his study with. Unlike any of the others in the House, she strongly understood her master’s taste in art and blood. Had he not sent her with Caretaker Zadock and his thralls, Vierae would have considered it to be the greatest honor she had received yet.

And here she was, repaying his trust by not only straying from her caretaker’s side, but also by allowing another to drink from her without his permission. The House would demand an awful penalty upon her, and she could only pray her torn flesh and broken body would be enough to appease them.

Vierae knew if she caused him enough trouble, her master would cast her aside without second thought. If he did, she knew her vicious caretaker would gleefully send her back into the Pens, or worse.

The soap bar slipped from her tightening grip at the memories of the Pens and Zadock’s chambers, and she choked on her silent sobs.

If the woman didn’t bring some sort of gift back with her, the life of finery she had worked so hard to take would slip between her fingers. From the moment he had reached out his hand, the pet had been fiercely loyal to her master; surely, he would understand why she did not return to him if she brought him a worthy gift? The idea of turning into a mind flayer and doing harm to the great House of her master was the only reason she had not rushed back to his side, after all. The tablets she had stolen from the nautiloid were secured in her pack, and she wondered if he would be able to read them. If the tadpole is what allowed her to make sense of them, they would be worthless as anything but paperweights.

Again, Zadock’s malicious laughter echoed through her mind, making her shiver.

They would not be enough. The strange amulet she’d seen Astarion pocket came to mind, but she quickly chased it away. The elf was a vampire, and she knew better than to try and steal from her betters. Then again… what about him? Astarion could walk in the daylight, and traverse through running water. Though he claimed he didn’t know how, if he was merely trying to protect a secret…

No one in the House could doubt my sincerity towards Master Valfein.

A rueful smile covered her face as she dumped the bucket of water over her soapy form. A secret like that would be enough to earn her a pardon from the House, and maybe even grant her freedom. True freedom, like the Pets who had willingly come into the House to serve had. Then, she might never again have to fear returning to the Pens.

Or to those bloodstained sheets.

Shaking the water from her body as she stood, Vierae returned to shore, and quickly dressed. Since the bites on her neck are what had given her away to Astarion, she made sure to take extra care to cover them with the lace collar she wore. Once she was satisfied, she made her way back to the campsite. Gale was still happily snoring away as she opened the door, and it brought a genuine smile to her lips. It seemed like the wizard slept deeply, and the bard found an odd comfort in the sound of life that she so rarely heard.

The sound of a quiet cough drew Vierae’s attention to Shadowheart’s tent, the flap of which was pulled aside to reveal the glaring half-elf. Fixing her face into an apologetic expression, the tiefling followed the beckoning wave the other woman made. Once standing before the tent, the whispered questions began.

“Where were you?” Shadowheart was openly suspicious.

“Bathing.” Reaching up, Vierae undid the messy bun, letting her wet locks hang down to her knees. She could tell by the way Shadowheart flinched, the half-elf had felt the cold water drip on her skin.

“How long have you been gone?”

“I’m not sure.” She lied easily.

“I thought you were keeping watch?”

“I have been- you’ve seen my ears, right?” As though to prove a point, Vierae perked her ears, allowing each one to swivel separately. The other woman only continued to look suspicious.

“Fine. Then I’ll take watch now.”

“Alright- don’t go to the river just yet.” At that statement, Shadowheart glared, climbing out of the tent.

“And why is that?”

“I just passed Astarion- he went to bathe.” The answer seemed to pacify her companion.

“Alright- I have no desire to spy on anyone bathing anyway.Go on then. Get some rest.” Shadowheart said, dismissive.

Obediently, Vierae returned to her own tent, pulling aside the silken flap to disappear inside. Settling onto the soft nest of pillows that made up her bed, she closed her eyes, and forced her breath to become steady. Though she was not as trusting as Gale was, she felt like Shadowheart at the least would look out for her while she slept, if for no other reason than her having come back to open the pod against the githyanki woman’s protests.

#The company you keep #Astarion #Predator Astarion #Prey Tav #Vierae #Predator/prey dynamics

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heheheku · 11 months ago

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#thinking about predator/prey dynamic…#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bloodweave #astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldurs gate 3

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beeg-bark · 1 year ago

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Being chased through the forest by two malicious doms, them just working as a unit, hunting you, saving their energy, that way they’re both still full of strength while you get weaker and weaker, more and more exhausted. What happens when they finally catch you, when you have no strength left to fight back or run? Slammed down into the forest floor, pinned against the foliage while they discuss how to ruin their freshly caught prey.

#dogbone #asexual kink #primal kink #predator prey #wolf pack dynamic type shit #they’re so much smarter than you #puppy space #fear kink #prey kink #predator kink #puppy sub #I didn’t know this was a kink I had #but #FUCK IT I GUESS???

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msgexymunson · 11 months ago

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One Slow Blink Part 2

Second part right here due to Tumblr restrictions

Description: As a nurse, you want to help people, as many as you can. But, with the insane things that have been going on in Hawkins, and the crazed look in Dustin's eyes when he stumbles into the ER covered in blood with an impossible tale to tell, it makes you wonder; how much are you prepared to give?

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, *Here there be monsters! Honestly, there's straight up monster fucking in this so if you're not into that do not read*, AFAB sub nurse reader x dom monster Eddie, kinda Alpha/Omega without them knowing it, injury descriptions, S4 does happen and Eddie lives but he be a monster, hand job, fem oral receiving, male oral receiving, consensual predator/prey dynamic, fingering, very rough sex, biting/marking, unprotected p in v, knotting.

A/N: This has come from yet another deranged dream of mine. I imagine Eddie looking kinda like a mix between the Beast from the original Beauty and the Beast, and the dog/kangaroo guys from Tank Girl, but with a longer snout. If you don't know, that's a dirty mix between a lion, a bear, a wolf and maybe a little of Venom's tongue (because I am a whore.)

22k words for both parts, I know, mental, but it's worth it ;)

Masterlist Part 1

You must have fallen asleep like that, as once your eyes open it looks to be almost night, the sun dipping past the horizon. The light slipping past your makeshift curtain is a deep red. You ache all over, especially your shoulder, but it doesn't stop you from smiling.

At some point he must have pulled you on top of him, both arms circling you possessively, holding you to his chest like a child's doll. His member has slipped out of you; you can feel the stickiness of his release coating the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.

Breathing changes as he stirs beneath you, opening his eyes in a squint.

“Hey you.”

He murmurs a soft sound from his chest, licking your cheek with his long tongue.

“Ew! Eddie, you've got dog breath.”

“Charrrming.”

You laugh, hitting his chest playfully, shifting above him so you're straddling him.

“We better get cleaned up, I've got to get to the hospital in a few hours.”

Eddie whines, grabbing your hips as you try to stand, pushing your wet heat against his twitching bulge.

“Eddie…”

You breathe out in a warning, but it sounds too needy. He's not listening, rubbing you back and forth over his swelling length.

“Eddie I don't think I can take another round, you were- oh fuck-”

The sentence falters as he catches your clit, setting a thousand butterflies loose in your tummy.

“I’ll… be gentle.”

You hiccup a little laugh, staring down at him with a raised brow.

“I don't think you can.”

“Forrr you… I can.”

You reach out to stroke his fuzzy cheek and he nuzzles into the touch. The affection he shows from that simple gesture has you relenting, guiding his member into you, slipping in easily, his previous sticky release helping its journey.

Sitting back and allowing yourself to revel in the beautiful stretch, you experience that familiar wash of relief, a calm caressing your very soul. Eddie seems to feel it too, letting out a long breath as his shoulders lose tension.

“This feels right,” you confess, hand running down his chest, “like, like-”

His gravelly purr interrupts your spill words, reverberating through your ribcage.

“Like you… werrre made forrr me, sweet-hearrrt.”

It's much slower this time, more of a languid grinding as you both move against each other, that undercurrent of need more of a smouldering heat, rather than the unquenchable fire from earlier. Eddie pants as he watches you, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth as you reach your precipice, your eyebrows knotting and body shuddering around him.

Falling against his form, entirely spent, skin glowing with sweat, you hold onto him as he chases his own release. True to his word, he's much more gentle, gripping your hips and moving you to meet his shallow thrusts. You see his snout scrunch when he's on the brink, just before he pulls you off of him and holds you to his torso. You can feel his cock pumping out his orgasm against your stomach, glueing the pair of you together.

“Eddie, you didn't need to-”

“Last time we werrre… stuck togetherrr, for half hourrr.”

You giggle, astonished at his words.

“Really? Damn, I must have fell asleep.”

“You did. Couldn't move. Was… nice.”

Reaching up to play with the fur on his cheek, you think about what he just said.

“You know, I think that's knotting. You know, like d-”

“If you say… dogs…” He warns, winding a finger in your hair and tugging gently.

“Fine. Canines.”

He grabs you, holding you in place as he slathers your face with his tongue, drooling all over you.

“Eddie! Yuck, stop, stop!”

“Thought I was… dog. This is what dogs do… rrrright?”

You squeal loudly trying to extricate yourself from his hold.

“OK, OK! You're not a dog! Stop!”

He finally relents and you get up, unpeeling from the sticky skin and matted fur of his stomach.

“Right, I'm gonna have a shower before you start humping my leg.”

He snaps his teeth at you playfully as you leave. When you're standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you see why your shoulder hurts so much. There's teeth marks in it; pinpricks of broken skin tinged with blood. They aren't deep, but the redness around them looks like it's going to leave a hell of a bruise. For some reason, you're not mad. The opposite in fact. It feels like a claim. You are his, and this is so the world can see.

Once you're clean and relatively dry, you go into the living area to find some food, throwing on one of Eddie's new t-shirts. It may as well be a dress, the hem kissing your mid thigh.

Something doesn't feel right though. Suddenly there's a rolling in the pit of your stomach, a sense of impending doom. The light streaming through the partially boarded windows is still an ominous red. Risking a look, you peer out of the slats and see the sky.

It's flashing red and blue, as if there's an enormous thunderstorm boiling the heavens, but there's no sound. It looks unnatural, colouring the landscape around in the same foreboding hues. You feel hot, and sick.

Eddie barrels into the room with a towel still around his waist, tackling you to the ground.

“Eddie, whats-”

“Stay low… some-thing coming… smells wrrrong.”

You whisper as quietly as you can.

“What can you smell?”

He takes a moment, snuffling at the air with his eyes closed.

“Outside… woods, dirrrt. Frrriends, coming. And… can't ex-plain in worrrds. Sticky… chem-i-cal… pulsing… grrey blue. Wrrrong.”

You suppose that's what you get for asking a question about something you can't possibly understand, what with the stark differences in your senses. You try a different tact.

“Have you… smelled it before?”

“Differrrent… but, similarrrr… to up-side-down.”

There's the shoe that you were waiting to drop. Now the feeling in your gut made sense.

“Eddie, you said… friends were coming?”

“Harrrrrington… and Henderrrrson forrr surrre… smell the damn hairrsprrray.”

In spite of the situation, you giggle. He flashes his teeth, dropping his guard for just an instant.

There's a powerful knock at the door that makes you jump. Eddie leaps up and flings it open with such force that it slams into the wooden wall sending dust flying.

You just about make out the figure of a girl with a shaved head and a bloody nose who thrusts an outstretched hand toward Eddie. Dustin's voice rings out behind her.

“Elle no!”

There's a strange force, like a gust of wind with no air that buffets around Eddie's snarling form. You feel it pulling you, ripping you backwards as you roll across the floorboards. Eddie seems unaffected, not moving from his spot.

“Eleven, stop! You think monsters wear pink towels??”

The girl looks baffled and turns to where Dustin is running forward, waving his arms wildly. Steve is following quickly behind. They both look battered and bruised. As Steve comes into focus you see his entire front is covered in blood.

Instincts kicking in, you shoulder past Eddie and run toward him.

“Steve, what happened!”

“It's alright it's not my blood. Eleven, this is Eddie.”

Ah, Eleven. It makes more sense now. The powers, the shaved head.

“Who- is she?”

Eleven stares at you with a confused expression. You introduce yourself, and explain what you think you are.

“...I'm, er, Eddie's girlfriend.”

Eleven's eyes widen but she doesn't say anything. Dustin, however, can't possibly stop the words spilling from his mouth.

“Girlfriend?? Seriously? But-”

“Henderson, focus! That's not important right now!”

“I was just asking, Steve!”

“Well don't we have other stuff we need to-”

“Hey!”

Shocked, you realise the shout came from you.

“Everyone, just calm down and get inside so we can talk, OK?”

Your words seem to cut through all arguments as everybody makes it inside, standing and looking at you for direction. Attempting to keep the authoritative air you've managed to concoct, you order them to sit down whilst you and Eddie get dressed.

When you're no longer feeling so exposed, you come back into the living room holding Eddie's hand.

“Right now, Steve, you first. What the fucks going on?”

He weirdly looks at Eleven first, who gives a curt nod.

“Right, right, so, it's a little-”

Dustin cuts in.

“-Vecna's back from the Upside Down with his Demogorgons and bats and stuff and they're taking over Hawkins and we need Eddie Dog to help defeat him!”

Stumbling back a little stunned, your wide eyes search his vainly for the sign of some prank. There is none.

“So… you're saying there's monsters in Hawkins??”

Steve responds calmly, juxtaposing Dustin’s trembling form.

“ ‘fraid so. Nance and Hopper and everyone else are holed up in the library. Everyone left in the town’s there. Well, everyone who's not dead or ran away.”

“Wait, so Hopper’s alive??”

“Yes! He was captured by evil Russians but Mrs Byers got him back and-”

“Alright, alright,” you hold your palms up to Dustin, “what does Eddie have to do with this?”

“Listen, Henderson's got this theory that Eddie's… powers… came out so he can stop Vecna.”

“But that's absurd, he was bitten!” You turn to Eddie but he looks just as shocked as you.

“Yeah but, we've seen a lot of people today who've been bitten by something. No one else changed.”

“Exactly,” Dustin says, grinning, “Eddie's got super strength now, he's all healed, I bet he's got other powers.”

Eleven starts talking unexpectedly.

“I tried to throw him. He did not move.”

“See!? He's a superhero.”

“So, wait, Eleven can't throw him,” you begin, “but that doesn't mean she can't throw stuff at him. What's to stop Vecna throwing a car or something?”

Everyone looks at Eleven.

Wordlessly, she focuses on a lamp that sits on a side table. To your astonishment, it begins to float in the air, then hurls itself at Eddie with remarkable force. Then the strangest thing happens. It hovers a few inches from Eddie as if stopped by an invisible barrier, then falls to the floor uselessly.

Silence. You break it, voice splitting as it goes high pitched with worry.

“Right, but that doesn't mean Vecna can't hurt him, just because Eleven can't, right? Right??”

Eddie's the one to respond, holding your hands in one bearish paw.

“Sweet-hearrrt, they'rrre rrright… I can help… I should help… need to prrotect the Shirrre… prrrotect you.”

“But-but-” Tears well in your eyes as you stare back at him.

“I need to… otherrrrwise… I am… this… is all a waste.”

You nod, but pull your hands from his and walk into the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. The pain is too much to bear. It does make sense, if you were being rational, but right now you aren't rational. Nothing about this is rational. You've just found the love of your life and you might lose him to this stupid fight.

Fuck. You love him.

It's finally clear. The feeling in your stomach, the draw you have toward him, the fire in your veins, in your heart. You barely know him, but you love him.

And now that might get ripped away because of some damn fight that shouldn't have had anything to do with him in the first place.

You perch on the bed, head in your hands as tears leak down your cheeks. There's no fight in you to stop them, grieving for something that hasn't happened yet but seems inevitable. There's whispering in the other room, plans being made, but it all sounds like it's underwater, drowned by the power of your tears.

After a while, Eddie opens the door and shuffles in the room, sitting down on the bed next to you. He slowly starts to explain the plan to you, how Will can sense when Vecna or the monsters are near, how Elle will help clear a path, how he has the strength to defeat him, since Vecna's powers are all he has. He doesn't have the speed or strength that Eddie does.

There's a loaded quiet when he's finished. You're angry, wiping away stray tears fiercely from your face, but you're not angry at him. You're angry at the situation, at Vecna, at the Upside Down. Angry at the powers that seem to be pulling you apart.

“Fine. But I'm coming with you.”

“No,” he snarls, pulling his arm around you, “they need… heal-ers. You… can help.”

“But what if- what if you get hurt?”

“Won't.”

“Promise?”

Staring up whilst you are brimming with tears, he cups your face, looking back at you with soulful eyes.

“I'll do… everrry-thing I can.”

“No!” You shout, tears falling once again as your face heats up, “you can't say that, they say that in the hospital and people die!”

Wringing your hands, flipping them over and over each other in your lap, you barely notice Eddie falling to the floor in front of you.

Then his burly arms are circling you, his maw pushed into your abdomen, inhaling you deeply, sweetly. It stops your incessant fidgeting, fingers resting in his long locks. They wind into his hair, twisting through to massage his scalp as he purrs into the flesh of your stomach.

“Eddie, if you love me you'll come back to me. Do-do you love me, Eddie?”

He looks up at you, deep chestnut eyes searching your face.

One slow blink.

There's a soft knock at the door and Dustin opens it.

“We have to go soon. Are you ready Eddie Dog?”

Eddie growls low in his throat, swivelling to face him on all fours, hackles raised. Dustin immediately attempts to backtrack, arm raised to try and protect his face.

“I mean, I didn't mean- it's from the demogorgon, you know, demodogs, Eddie Dog, I did think DemoEddie but Dog-”

Eddie pounces, pinning Dustin to the ground. Dustin's eyes scrunch shut as he screams, voice breaking in terror.

“Shit shit shiiiiiiiiiit!!!”

You giggle inanely as Eddie licks Dustin's face wetly. He bounds off him and shoots a wink at you, before lending Dustin a hand and dragging him to his feet.

“I am not… a dog.”

Dustin is laughing in relief, nerves racking through it.

“No you're not, I'm sorry I'm sorry-”

Steve appears in the doorway.

“Guys, get in here.”

All mockery forgotten, you make your way into the living space in silence.

“Steve, what's going on?”

“That's just it. Listen.”

You all stop, ears working in overdrive as you all try to hear what he hears. Breaking the quiet spell that had drifted over everyone, you speak.

“I can't hear anything.”

“Exactly. Don't you get it? All over town, all through the woods, there's been these things. Demogorgons, bats, horrible things. But here, there's nothing.”

“Eddie, you smell anything?”

Eddie closes his eyes, snout wiggling in effort as he opens his preternatural senses. His voice rumbles out in its usual gravelly purr.

“That scent… it's herrre, it's on them… up-side-down smell… therrres nothing close by… except a few deerrr.”

Steve holds a hand up, stage whispering to you.

“He can smell that?”

“Yes… and hearrr acrrross rrrooms.”

“Sorry big guy, I just- that's awesome.”

Dustin is beaming, staring at Eddie like he's a superhero. Steve continues, making sure he's looking at Eddie, you notice, keeping him in the conversation.

“So, if those things aren't nearby… maybe, maybe they're afraid of him? Hate to say it but I'm starting to agree with Dustin. Maybe you're supposed to be like this Munson.”

Sighing in acceptance, you turn to Eddie.

“Fine. If you think you can help you should go. Don't let me stop you. But you have to come back to me.”

He gives you a slow blink, and you nod, accepting fate. Then you move into action, grabbing the partially used trauma kit, along with anything else you think might be helpful. Everyone else is doing the same, as if they were waiting for your approval.

Pretty soon you're being bundled into what appears to be a stolen pick up truck with Eddie sitting in the back, as you race back into town.

If you could call it town anymore.

Your mind rolls to every post apocalyptic movie you've ever seen, but none of them compare to it happening in front of your eyes. Crumbling buildings that you recognise send spears of hurt through your heart. Over there, the gas station where you bought your first underage beers, now a smoking wreckage. On your left, the drug store where you used to pick up your mom's prescription, cracked and half buried in rubble.

A cloud of chattering sound passes quickly overhead; you hear Eddie growling low as batlike creatures wing their way to another destination, seemingly unbothered by your presence. It's either that, or they don't want to tangle with your boyfriend. You pray that it's the latter.

Steve takes a sharp left turn and you fling to the side in your seat.

“I thought we were heading to the library, isn't it that way?”

“Yep, if you wanna cross a gorge. The roads opened so wide that nothing can get through.”

The enormity of the situation is sinking into you, winding around your spine, fear clasping you in its unwanted clutches.

Ignore it. Don't recognise it. Turn your back on it. There's people that need your help.

Steve pulls up a few yards away from the library, and you clench your jaw, telling your tears to fuck right off. Now is not the time for tears.

You and Dustin jump out of the truck, and he rushes to the library to bring everyone who needs to be part of this final stand. A final stand that doesn't involve you. A final stand that has the love of your life sitting front and centre.

Running around to the back of the truck you grab Eddie's head firmly in both your hands.

“You- you remember what I said? You need to come back to me, you hear me? ‘Cause if you don't I'll kill you myself. Get it Eddie? You do this and you come back to me!!”

Eddie holds your hands in his enormous paws, enveloping your soft flesh instantly. Nuzzling his snout against your cheek, he breathes in your ear.

“I'll come back… to what's mmine.”

You press fierce hot kisses to the soft fur of his face, over and over, until he pulls you from him, holding your hands away.

“You love me Eddie. I know you do.”

One slow blink.

In an instant, he's gone, quieter than snow. Falling to the floor, you hold your head in your hands, crushed by the barbarity of the situation.

You didn't say it. You didn't tell him you love him too. Saying it out loud would make it more real. Saying it out loud would make the pain worse if you lose him.

Soft fingers pry at you, leading you onward, inside. In a daze you follow, feet on autopilot as you clutch the trauma bag in front of you like a shield.

Inside is a bustle of activity, a hive of ants that all have a purpose and none of them involve you. You're guided gently down onto a seat and the insects run about, fetching food, water, bandages. It all seems to be happening outside of you, following a rhythm that you can't hear.

“Hey, hey!” One of the swarm seems to be addressing you. Tilting your head, you look towards them. It's an older woman; half her face is concealed by a makeshift eyepatch.

“You're a doctor, right? We need someone over here now!”

Instincts take over. Legs rising of their own accord, they march over to a camp bed that's been set up. Another woman lays there, breaths shallow and humanising. There's an enormous gash in her side.

“OK OK, I can help, just don't move too much, I'll try and stop the bleeding.”

Then the next person. And then, the next person.

Mind floating into a subconscious haze, your memories take over. That situation before at the hospital, the textbook you once studied, a hypothetical conversation with a doctor. You take it, all at once, power beyond what should be possible, but you do it.

You do it for him.

Minutes pass into hours unseen as you tear through every available useful item, every strip of gauze from your bag, until it happens.

A pain so profound that grips your shoulder and your heart hard enough for you to look around for the shotgun. It emanates out of the bitemark, pulsing into your veins with alarming force.

“He's hurt.”

Collapsing to the side, you hold a firm hand to your own heart, as if you could will it to slow. Legs give out from under you, your rear landing on the hard surface behind. For a minute you sit, unable to move, unable to think, wondering why everyone around seems so controlled. Don't they realise your entire universe is shattering into splinters before their very eyes?

There's a hand shaking you by the arm, someone asking if you're OK. They lift you, place you in a seat, and keep asking, and asking. Your tongue feels heavy, unable to form words to explain the hurt you're feeling. This deep hurt is rooted into your bone marrow; heavy, hard and cold.

There's a familiar face in front of you, a round childish face with curling boyish locks and a worried expression. Dustin.

“Hey, you there? Can ya hear me?”

Nodding wordlessly, you point to your chest, directly over your heart, eyes wincing in pain.

“Did you get hurt?”

You shake your head, and manage one word.

“Eddie.”

Before Dustin can respond, Nancy runs in, face covered in grime and dark blood, panting for breath.

“They… did it… Hoppers here with Eleven. The gates are closed. But, Eddie-”

Hearing his name you rush back into your body.

“Where is he?”

“Steve and Jonathan are taking him back to the cabin. He's unconscious. He’s… in a bad way, but he's alive.”

He's alive.

“I need to get to him. Dustin, grab any bandages you can find. Nancy, you got a car?”

She nods and leads you outside. The sky has quietened, no longer flashing in supernatural colours. Looking upward, you can almost believe this is a normal night in Hawkins. Taking in the streets, the truth is far from it.

Three monstrous things lay on the sidewalk, covered in some slimy substance and splattered in unnatural blood. Their skin has a blue grey sheen to it, and their limbs are twisted awkwardly. Their heads seem to have been split open, but then you realise it's just one gigantic mouth, unfurling like a gristly lily. The fleshy petals are lined with dozens of tiny sharp teeth.

You press a toe to one of them nervously. Its head lulls to one side, utterly lifeless.

“Hey I got the band- Holy shit!!”

Dustin's voice cracks mid sentence, then he sighs in relief when he realises the monsters are dead. Nancy calls at you both to hurry and you bundle into the car as she races through the cracked, ruined streets of Hawkins.

The gas station, the shops, town hall, it's all unimportant. What matters is getting to Eddie. You need to save him.

Suddenly a heavy feeling in your chest lifts, but not in comfort. It's as if someone's tugged a weighted blanket off of you, exposing your vulnerability for the world to see. Eddie's presence, once a firm hold coddling your heart, is reduced to a whisper of a thought. Gossamer threads tie you instead of lead ropes that you hadn't even realised were there until they were nearly gone.

“Nancy, we need to hurry, he's almost gone!”

She doesn't question how you know, just presses her foot to the accelerator and bombs through Hawkins and onto the familiar country road. She gets as near as the woods will allow, until you're yanking the door open and continuing on shaky legs, feet pounding at the bracken and tears streaming from the corners of your eyes.

A singular thought races through your mind with each footfall. Save him. Save him. Like a heartbeat.

The cabin starts to appear out of the darkness, the lights inside a beacon of hope. As you reach the front door it flies open, Steve standing in the frame.

His hair is sticking out in every direction; part of it is plastered to his forehead with blood. A bat with nails in it is hanging limply at his side and his clothes are torn. There's gashes in his front, as if gigantic claws had swiped at him. Previously you would have stopped, gaping at his wounds in horror and done anything you could to help, but after everything you've seen tonight they seem almost trivial.

“Is he here?”

Steve takes a deep breath in, swinging the bat at his side as if on instinct.

“He's here, I guess. He was awesome, then- he wasn't him, in the end. He's not said a word after Vecna, then when Mrs- well, he passed out. Just, be careful.”

You nod and shoulder your way through, past a long haired guy with the intense expression who you assume is Jonathan, and into the bedroom.

It's a familiar scene, so much so that it borders on comfort. He's strapped down to the bed, a belt wrapped around his feral maw. His breaths are shallow and wet sounding. A snarling whistle of a snore escapes on each exhale.

His wounds are deep, much deeper than before. There's blood pooling at his side from a gaping wound, it looks like one of those bastard monsters took a bite out of him. That seems the worst damage, that and a bite on his shoulder that almost mirrors your own. You'd laugh at the irony if you weren't so upset. On top of that, there are so many scrapes and claw marks and bruises that it makes your heart ache.

“One of you, come in here and help me.”

Steve appears in the door frame, bat held high as if Eddie were about to pounce.

“Steve, put the bat down. I need your help cleaning these wounds.”

He lowers his arm and moves nearer to you, but doesn't let the bat go.

“I don't think you get it. When Vecna- when he realised he couldn't hurt him, those demogorgons got him. He fought three of them at once and then he… well, he tore Vecna in half. Since then he's not… he was a beast. Tried to attack me and Hopper, until Mrs Byers whacked him over the head, knocked him out cold. I'm not sure he's Eddie, anymore.”

There's a tug at your heart, a spindly web like thread that pulls you to your love.

“He's weak, but he's there. I know it. Help me clean these wounds and bind them before he bleeds out.”

The two of you work in silence, Steve flinching when Eddie stirs, but he doesn't wake up. When the hole in his side is padded with gauze and tightly bound with bandages, you work on the rest. There's just so many injuries, it's a wonder he's still alive and hasn't bled out yet.

When it's done, with Eddie patched and bandaged as well as you know how, you collapse onto the floor, hands on your knees. All you can do is wait for him to wake up. That's if he wakes up. If he wakes up as him, and not some mindless beast.

“Listen, you've done what you can. You're awesome, really.”

Steve's hand grasps yours on top of your knee.

“If he's gonna come back for anyone, he'll come back for you.”

The smile he flashes melts your heart as he gets up to leave. A second later, he returns with a musty blanket and a worn cushion. You take them gratefully and get comfortable on the floor, hoping against hope that your love wakes up.

********************

A roaring growl shatters through your nerves and startles you awake, rocketing through your senses before you have a chance to think. Hot breath blows across your face, messing your hair and making you blink in its turbulence.

Eddie's on all fours on top of you, crouched low and teeth bared, bindings in tatters all about you. The belt is gone from his jaw; you can only assume he managed to break it with sheer force. A dribble of slobber hangs from his maw; for some reason it's all you can focus on. It wobbles in your vision, as you scramble for some way to get through to him.

He barks roughly, snapping his teeth barely an inch from your face.

“N-now, you listen to me, Eddie!”

Your voice squeaks, belying the stern demeanour you're attempting to convey. He growls low, crouching even further over you, giving you an undeniable urge to flee. You can't, not with Eddie on top of you. Not just that, you know deep within your bones that if you attempt to escape, you're dead.

It suddenly dawns on you that it doesn't matter. You could just throw yourself out there and be eaten. Sure, it'd be painful, but since he's hovering right over your jugular it'd probably be quick. Living without him seems far worse. Or, you might just succeed, and live.

There's no time for hesitation and pleasantries. So, you grasp the fur around his maw and clutch it desperately, fingers winding into his pelt. His eyes widen, jaw closing slightly, and you take the opportunity to pull his head closer. Your forehead sits flush with his, searching his eyes for any sign of the Eddie you know.

“Eddie Munson, you listen to me! You know who I am! Can't you smell it? My smell, your smell? You're mine, and I'm yours. You promised you'd come back to me! So do it, come the fuck back to me or I swear I'll kill you myself!”

Releasing one hand, you pull your t-shirt over your shoulder and show him the mark he left you.

“You see this? You know what this is? Remember, Eddie!”

There's a flicker in his hard gaze, a flash of something that just might be your Eddie. Pressing his snout to the mark, he inhales deeply. Then, he's pressing his jaw to yours, nuzzling your neck with his nose. Moving your head to meet his affection, you rub your faces against each other. The tension in the room dissipates as you finally start to see the human behind the beast.

As he pulls his face away, you stare deep in his eyes.

‘I love you Eddie Munson. I knew you'd come back. You had to, because you love me too. Right?”

One slow blink.

Then, he's falling to the floor on his side, seemingly exhausted with the strain. There's no way you'll be able to get him back into the bed, so you throw your blanket around you both and snuggle into his warm pelt before you fall asleep in his arms.

When you finally wake up, he's still asleep breathing heavily through his nose. The breaths sound much better than before, a stark difference from the heavy, wet sound he was making previously.

Every joint hurts from sleeping on the wooden floor. You stretch in place, click your elbows, and glance back down at Eddie.

Even a few hours seems to have helped Eddie with his recovery. The small grazes you didn't bother to cover up are completely healed; just tiny fine lines of scars are all that's left, like the inking of a delicate pen.

You try to stand up but Eddie's heavy paw is resting on your hip, keeping your back flush to his torso.

“Eddie,” you whisper, half ashamed to disturb him, “I need to move, my back hurts.”

One chestnut eye blinks roughly at you then opens, shrivelling from the light pouring through your ad hoc curtains. He's not said a word yet, a fact that is eating your insides up with worry, but you don't mention it.

He pushes himself off of the floor, managing to stand shakily before flopping to the bed. Even this small movement has him exhausted beyond what should be possible.

“Eddie, do you want me to get you something to eat? You know, to help the healing?”

Those soulful deep eyes bore into you, stretching time for just a moment. Then he blinks deliberately at you, twice.

“No? So, what can I do?”

Wordlessly, he holds his arms out. You crawl into his embrace as he clutches you to his chest tightly, as if he's scared you'll run away. You couldn't though. Not now, not ever.

********************

After a few hours, he's breathing deeply, and you risk moving to the living space. Once you enter you see Steve and Jonathan there. Nancy climbs out of an armchair and makes her way towards the group, diplomatically standing exactly between them.

“We didn't want to disturb. How's he doing?”

Nancy's soft voice breaks the quiet and you allow her a small smile.

“Great. I mean, he's healing like crazy, seems to be something he can do, and he remembers me for sure. He's not spoken yet, but give him time.”

She beams at you, then flashes a thousand watt smile at Steve. Shaking her head slightly, apparently at her own actions, she grabs Jonathan's hand and gives it a squeeze. You don't miss the slight frown that flickers on Steve's face, or the little wanton appraising look he gives Jonathan. It's funny, viewing something from an outsider's perspective. They're the perfect little threesone and they don't seem to even know it.

There's a stirring noise from the bedroom and you run immediately toward it. Eddie's sitting up in bed; it looks like he's trying to inspect the hole in his side with clumsy fingers.

“Hey, it's OK Eddie, don't touch it. I'm gonna look after you, alright?”

A flicker of relief passes across his face and he settles down into the mattress, placated.

You inspect the wound; his recovery is remarkable but there's still a way to go before it's healed. By rights he shouldn't be breathing at all.

“It looks good, it'll take a while to heal completely but I think you're gonna be alright.”

A large hand reaches tentatively to your face and cups it, shaking slightly with the effort. His face scrunches, an internal pain crossing it that seems too much to bear. Then, words emerge.

“...love… you.”

Instantly welling with tears, you cup his hand in your own.

“I love you too Eddie. Now sleep, you need to rest. I'll bring you some water, and some food in a while to get your strength back up.”

He blinks slowly at you, then settles his head back into the mattress, palm dropping from your cheek almost instantly as he falls asleep. You take the cushion from the floor and anchor his head up, slipping it underneath so he doesn't strain his neck.

Staring at him for a moment looking so peaceful makes your eyes well. Wiping furiously at your face, you disperse the tears and turn towards the doorway.

“You alright?”

Steve's standing there, thankfully no longer holding a bat. You nod and walk out of the room with him, after a final glance at Eddie's sleeping form.

********************

Now the danger has passed, the rest of them leave to go get some much needed sleep. The snippets you've been told about the battle for Hawkins sounded bloody and taxing, they all need to recuperate.

When Eddie starts eating you breathe another sigh of relief. It's a good sign. He seems to be having trouble again with picking things up and using words but it's getting better by the hour.

Collecting a bucket from outside, you fill it with warm water and grab some soap and a washcloth from the bathroom, then take it to the bedroom. Eddie's sitting up in bed, having just finished a whole chicken. He's licking juices from his furred fingers when you walk in.

“Hey, that good? Want any more?”

“Good… forrr now.”

You smile at him and waddle over with the heavy bucket. Placing it on the ground with a heavy thud, you soak the cloth and add some soap to it.

“What… doing?”

“Oh, well you've got too many bandages on for me to clean you in the tub, so I thought I'd wash you in here, if that's alright.”

Flashing his teeth in the epitome of a wolfish grin, he purrs out a response as he whips off the blanket covering him.

“Hot nurrrse…. Giving me… sponge bath? Yess please!”

You roll your eyes but you're smiling as you do it, and help him wriggle out of his sweatpants. He's naked, cock already kicking up with your proximity.

“This isn't about that, Eddie!”

“-Orry.”

“And don't just drop your s'es to be cute, I know you can say them!”

He gently grasps your hand in his and you melt just a little.

You start cleaning him as best as you can, tenderly mopping in between the bandages, taking care to remove as much of the crusted blood and grime as possible.

As you work, you feel his furred finger curl under your chin, guiding you to look at him.

“Eddie?”

“You… rrreally carrrre about… mme, don't you?”

Trying to move out of his grip shyly, he holds your chin firmly waiting for your reply.

“I mean, yes, of course. I told you Eddie, I love you.”

Damp fingers twine in his thick burly hand. His eyes are on you but seeing through you, deep in thought. You squeeze his fingers in encouragement.

“What's on your mind, Eddie?”

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

“It's stu-pid… I just thought… when it all ended… when gate closed… I'd go back… be norrrmal.”

Emotion floods those brandy hued eyes, you force a lump in your throat to go away.

“Eddie, you've never been normal,” you say, smiling at him, whilst he growls a little chuckle in his throat, “but that's not a bad thing. You're different Eddie. You've always been different. You're odd, and funny, and intense. I love you, and not in spite of those things. Because of them. Because you're you.”

Eddie roughly rubs a hand over his eyes to disguise the tears.

“Love you… what the fuck… did I do… to deserrrve you.”

“Don't know, but it must have been pretty awesome.”

You smile as you finish cleaning him, drying him off as best as you can, and let him get more rest. It seems each time he naps his healing quickens exponentially, so you encouraged as many as you could.

It was late evening by the time you saw him again. You had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the TV, curled up wearing Eddie's black t-shirt and nothing else, with a cushion between your knees for comfort.

There was warm pressure just on the inside of your thigh, a heaviness that for some reason made you feel safe.

Cracking one eye open, you see Eddie is sitting on the floor facing you, his furred cheek resting on your leg. His snout is just breaching the hem of the t-shirt, dangerously close to your heat.

“Eddie, what are you doing?”

He takes a deep breath in and your cheeks flood with embarrassment.

“I miss-ed you… miss-ed this.”

“We can't, like, do anything Eddie, not until you're healed.”

Lifting his head up, he points wordlessly to his side. The bandage has been removed. Amazingly, it's knotted scar tissue; a few tufts of fur are growing on it already. In a few days you'd be surprised if you could even tell the near life threatening blow had even happened.

“Wow, thats- fuck, that's incredible. You're amazing!”

He makes a little satisfied noise at the praise and sits up, towering over you on the sofa.

“So… arrre we good? Forrr… a little game?”

Tilting your head, you mockingly appraise him, looking him up and down and checking each knot of scars.

“Well… seems I can give you the all clear. What did you have in mind?”

Opening his maw, he flicks his tongue over his teeth, and stares at you hungrily.

“I've got… an i-dea.”

He stands up and pulls you to your feet, reminding you again of the sheer size of him, and wordlessly leads you to the back door.

When you're outside, the lack of noise really strikes you. There's not a sound in the woods. An eerie quiet washes over you, making each breath, each heartbeat all the louder. The air is crisp, but not freezing. It nips at your bare legs, trailing goosebumps up your thighs. You look up at the sky; a beautiful array of shining stars fill it, and the moon provides a little light so you can make out the dark shadow of trees about you. It's ethereal and beautiful.

“It's really pretty Eddie, but what's this got to do with a game?”

He stands just behind you, firmly grabbing you by your hips as he bends to speak in your ear.

“We'rrre tied… in ourrr little chases… thought we could…”

“Out here? In the dark? Eddie what if theres-”

“Nothings herrre… animals fled frrrom the monsterrrs… can smell. It's just you… and mme.”

The thought sends a little shiver down your spine, pins and needles rushing from the base of your neck.

“You like the… i-dea. Can tell.”

You curse your own body for betraying you, but he's absolutely right. You're already wet just thinking about it and it's starting to dampen your thighs. A heat floods through you, making you forget about the cold.

“OK… say I'm interested, what are the rules?”

“Two minutes head starrrt… then, when I catch you…” He playfully licks the shell of your ear, “I can do… whateverrr I want.”

“Within reason?” You say, voice already shaking.

“Within… rrreason.”

“Five minutes.”

“Thrrrree.”

“Done.”

Immediately you tear away from his grasp and run, giving him no time to think about it. The forest floor is surprisingly soft under your bare feet, a carpet of pine needles allowing you to run comfortably, unhindered.

Your ears are occupied by the sound of your own beating heart. It's pumping wildly in your chest, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins, making each decision. You zig zag, double back a little, and turn in a circle, to try and throw him off the scent. A part of you wishes there was a river nearby to help confuse the trail further. Then again, most of you is glad there isn't. It's not like you don't want to be caught.

A fallen branch makes you trip and you sprawl unseen in the dark. The rush is still there, but you try to be more careful and take a little time looking for anything on the ground that could harm you. Squinting in the dark, you make out a huge stone in front of you which could have seriously injured you. Skirting around it, there's a copse of close together trees to one side. Then, there's an alrighty roar.

He sounds so close, you must have made less progress than you thought. Dashing for the trees, you enter a little circle of pines and press your back against one panting for breath. You can hear him now. It sounds like he's galloping through the forest on all fours, crashing through branches and twigs like a hot knife through butter.

You daren’t move, you daren’t breathe. This close there's no chance he won't hear you. Thighs clenching so hard you're in danger of losing blood flow, you feel your slick covering them, nearly slipping apart because of it. It's uncanny; you don't know why your body seems to have this visceral reaction to his presence, but really you don't need to know. All you know is that this feels so right, so natural for you, that it's accepted without hesitation.

The absence of noise is what makes you jump. One minute there's crashing and breaking branches; the next, silence. You grip onto the rough bark, fingers white knuckling in fervent anticipation.

You hear him then, soft footfalls crunching and sniffing noises. Keeping your back pressed firmly against the tree trunk, you try to breathe as quietly as you can. Each second that goes by feels like it stretches on for an eternity, as you hear him get closer and closer… and then walk past behind you. Breath leaving you in a gasp, you relax your muscles slightly.

Until he's directly in front of you, completely naked, the sheer weight of him pressed up against you as he pins both your arms by your sides. His cock is throbbing against your stomach, huge and painfully hard. Bending his head to your level, his snout nudges your ear.

“I win… you’rrre mmine.”

He nips at your neck, his sharp teeth breaking the skin. Pain blossoms out from the mark, but it's followed by a wave of pleasure that sends another wash of wetness out of you.

Eddie growls so deeply that you shiver, and suddenly your world is shooting upward as he grasps you firmly by the ass and lifts you up, your t-shirt riding up to your chest. The hard bark of the tree is pressing into your naked skin as he holds you there like a play thing, claws digging in your flesh. His tongue laps through your folds, tasting you with such ferocity that it makes you moan wantonly, your nails scraping into his scalp, hanging on for dear life.

Cloying heat is surrounding you, suffocating you. You pull the shirt over your head and toss it in a vain attempt to get some relief but it's no use. Eddie's tongue is buried inside your tight cunt, a dizzying tornado that's making your head spin, but you need more.

“Fuck- please Eddie, I-I need- oh God- I need you inside me.”

He lifts your back off of the tree, then slams your spine against the rough wood, expelling all breath from your lungs. He's shaking his head back and forth, long snout rubbing over your clit. A hard no, but it's setting fireworks off inside you all the same. He lets up for a moment, just one, rumbling out words so close to your pussy you feel the warm air of his breath and the vibration of it on your clit.

“You want me… so bad… then fuckin’ cum. Now.”

His thumb breaching your weeping sex is a complete surprise. It's just so thick; moving inside you with such animalistic intensity that you're clenching and coming with an obscene scream directed at the heavens. You crumble to ash and dust within his very clutches, the smouldering fire flaming bright and burning all of you, inside and out.

There's no time to recover, to breathe. He slides you down the tree trunk and onto his waiting member, forcing it inside with barely any warning. Tears spring from the corners of your eyes as he forcibly lifts you by your hips and slams you back down, over and over, his powerful thrusts pulling whimpers out of you. You're just so full, his swollen length pulsing inside, throbbing you to ecstasy.

The strings tighten inside you, firming the pressure in your belly, which suddenly snaps, dissolving into an intense wave of pleasure that gushes from your hole and threatens to push him out due to its violence. He shudders with you, holding you close and grinding into you, helping you ride it out with almost gentle movements that bely the ferality he displayed only moments ago. Your foreheads touch softly, breaths in tandem.

For a second you think he's finished. You couldn't be further from the truth. His voice is strained, as if he's trying to keep it under control.

“You… do that… again.”

Before you can blink his knuckles are dragging harshly over your clit, back and forth, sending a shiver through your spine on each rough pass.

“Eddie- oh holy- oh fuuuck!”

You're barely able to speak, to think. Sentences fail to form, in fact your bordering on drooling at the way he's fucking you dumb. In moments you're clenching around him, walls fluttering uncontrollably as you sob out another release, muscles contracting involuntarily and quivering all over your body. After a while, you realise you're weeping, tears streaming with no barriers to stop them.

It still doesn't stop Eddie and his violent conquest over your form. He seems intent on owning you, ruining you, taking every last ounce of pleasure out of you to leave you a shattered blubbering mess. It's as if he needs to get his pain and anguish out; it's pouring from him and into each movement of his hips.

“Again.”

Sobs are bubbling out of your mouth, wet and round, spit gathering at the corners.

“Eddie, I- I can't-”

“Again!”

Then he's pinching your clit hard between thumb and forefinger, as his teeth nip at your breast. The overbearing pain and the zealous pleasure are too much. Shamefully, you release yet again, slick running down your legs and onto the forest floor in a sticky web.

It's only then that he holds you close, hard arms snaking around your back as your legs shake wildly either side of his hips. His bearish hands grasp you tightly as he throbs his own messy climax deep inside you, roaring loudly, pulsing and pulsing until you've milked him dry. Even then he remains, hard and swollen, locked in and unable to separate.

His touch is far more gentle now, lifting you by the hips as if you are to be cherished and placing your back softly to the pine needle covered ground. He hovers over you, almost in fear of breaking you, one rough hand stroking at the delicate skin of your cheek. Staring into his eyes, you see the shame harbouring within them.

Before he can speak, you're grasping his furred cheeks and holding his gaze.

“Eddie, it's OK, honestly. I mean, it was a little rough… but fuck me… that was amazing. You're amazing.”

He nuzzles into you, deeply breathing in your smell as he cuddles you in the softest embrace.

“-Orry.”

“You trying to be cute with me again, Eddie Munson?”

Your stern words just earn you another squeeze, a slightly tighter hold from his firm arms. For a while you lay there, feeling the other's heartbeat and listening to nothing but the wind between the trees.

It takes a bit, but the knot finally subsides and you are able to extricate yourselves from its hold. As soon as Eddie's comforting arms are no longer around you, you start to shiver massively.

“Need.. get you home… climb on.”

He's on all fours, crouching low in front of you like a tamed lion.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.”

There's a soft rumble in his throat that almost sounds like laughter.

“Get on… beforrrre you frrreeze.”

You can't really argue with that.

Hesitating with your knee up high, you're trying to work out where you need to be. You've never ridden a… a wolf? A lion? A monster? Briefly, you think you've never ridden an Eddie, but you blush profusely when you remember that's simply not true.

Finally deciding on swinging your leg over near his waist at the thinnest part of him, you settle into the soft fur. He swings a paw up and grasps your hand, leading it toward the longer hair down his spine.

“Might want… to hold on… sweet-hearrrt.”

You twine your fingers delicately into the thicker part of his pelt. That is, until he starts running on all fours through the trees. You grip tightly when you feel the sudden rush of speed, fingers losing blood as you hold on in fear of crashing to the floor.

Once the initial shock is over, it's electrifying; a thrilling, hedonistic mix of riding a horse and a motorcycle at once. The wind whips through your hair and stings your uncovered skin, making you feel oh so alive. The constant push and pull of powerful muscles beneath you make you realise just how strong Eddie is. It suddenly dawns on you that no matter how rough he's been with you, he's holding back. If he showed you half his power you doubt you'd live to tell the tale. That stark realisation has you falling for him all over again.

It's that power that seems to flow up from him and through you. You feel like some sort of heathen queen, riding through the forest on your monstrous steed, naked as the day you were born. Wild, savage, and formidable.

Too soon, your impromptu ride is over as he lopes toward the lights of the cabin, eventually coming to a stop. Sliding off of his mighty form, you land on both feet practically buzzing with excitement, caring not a jot for the fact that you were still naked.

“Eddie, that was incredible! We need to do that again, like, every night. Fuck, I'm shaking!”

You beam at him, glowing inside and out.

“If anyone else… said that… I'd bite them. But… it's you. I'll be you’rrre… steed.”

“You just want me to ride you again.”

In the short time you've been together, you've gotten used to the subtle signs in his face, in the looks in his eyes, enough to be able to read him. You don't need any of those though, not when his usual whiskey eyes are blackened with desire.

“You… not done?”

Grinning profusely, you open the back door and beckon him with your finger.

“Nope.”

“You… animal.”

You laugh; a messy, loud, belly laugh at the pure irony of the situation.

Walking into the bedroom, you watch him follow you in. There's pine needles stuck in his fur, and mud crusted into his hands and feet. The very air surrounding him is of forests; of damp and bark and moonlight.

All it's doing is stirring up your insides further. Right now, this heathen queen needs her monster king.

“Lay down.”

He huffs lowly, towering over your tiny form.

“You… telling mme… what to do?”

“Yes. I am. You got a problem?”

You push lightly at his chest, making him collapse mockingly onto the bed, face twisted in taunting pain, as if you had caused him serious harm.

“Don't… hurrrrt mme, prrrincess.”

“I wasn't going to… hurt you, exactly.”

You straddle his body, backwards, mouth hovering near his already firm length as your ass swings tantalisingly just out of reach of his drooling maw.

“Now…. Sweet-hearrrrt, fuuuck… so unfairrr…”

You can feel the breath expelling from his mouth, the way the sweep of his tongue creates air that is failing to make it between your folds. It makes your cunt throb from the lack of attention, still puffy and drooling from your encounter in the woods.

You lick a firm stripe from his heavy balls to the tip of his engorged purple member, watching it shiver with the affection. There's a salty, brutish taste to him, mixed with the sweet, feminine tang of you, that makes you want to lick him over and over. Rolling the tip of his weighty length into your mouth, you roll it around with your tongue, licking any trace of you and him together away, to be stored in your memories forever.

“Sweet-hearrrt… please!”

He's panting, each short breath firing bursts of air at your cunt. You don't let up, not yet, suckling at his tip, pressing firm kisses to the slit on the tip. He's growling and whining, muscles twitching all over.

There's no way you can take more than a third of his threatening member into your mouth, but you do what you can, stroking firmly with both hands what you cannot take. Spit dribbles out of your mouth and down to your fisted palms, wetting the rest of his length with soaked, messy need.

He roars, lion-like behind you, fingers pressing further bruises into your soft flesh. You don't let up, you can't. You need to make him tremble beneath you; to feel those controlling muscles fold under the feel of your mouth.

The thrust up into your wet lips has you gagging around his length, gargling and spluttering around his thick head. You can't chide him for it, not since the movement sets your insides ablaze with need.

He curls as hard as his spine will allow; the tip of his tongue ghosting over your slick heat. Quivering, you let up on your assault with your mouth, and twist so you can face him. Whines and whimpers expel from his throat as his thick fingers wind around your waist. Before they can contort into growls and snarls, you sink down onto his slippery cock, all the way to the hilt, as if he were the perfect sword to your tight sheath.

“Lay back and relax… There's a good boy.”

Instead of taking control, he gives it to you. A whine, high pitched and needy, rolls out of his mouth.

Bending down, with him still flush inside you, you press your pretty lips against his slathered maw. Open mouthed kisses are pressed onto his jaw, tongue sneaking in and feeling his pointed fangs delicately. He licks purposely into your mouth, dancing against your tensed muscle.

Grinding hard into him, his solid weapon presses harshly against your g spot, stars forming in the corners of your eyes. He sits up so he can lace his thick arms around you, as if he needed to be even closer somehow. Responding in kind, you position your legs around him, holding tight as he thrusts up into you.

Sweat is glistening, dripping down your spine at the proximity of his boiling hot body. Your fingers wind into the thicker fur on his spine as he rocks into you, feeling him in your very core.

Suddenly he's grasping your hips, about to pull you off him. Whining, you shake your head, forcing yourself back down.

“I'mm gonna-”

“I know, please, I need to feel it, fill me up, please!”

Those words are all it takes for Eddie, pushing him over that precipice, free falling into ecstasy. You join him, plummeting into your own release as the feel of his knot consumes you.

For a while you hold each other, the only clue that time had failed to stop being your panting breaths. Your head is snuggled into the soft coat of his neck, his chin resting on the top of your head. As his hardness finally begins to subside you still remain, the sanctitude of the moment ongoing. It feels as if it will be an ongoing memory to play on a loop in the back of your mind, forever.

********************

The following two weeks flew by in a hum buzz of activity. You're pulling shift after shift at the hospital and helping out at the emergency shelter when you can. The town is pulling together, trying to heal and coming to terms with what will forever be a little bit broken.

Eddie's mood has been in a shifting, unstable state since the night he defeated Vecna. The nightmares were the worst part of it; on more than one occasion you've had to physically hit him to get him to wake up and stop thrashing in panic on the bed. You try to soothe with words, soft touches and kindness. It's helping, but you know he's got a long way to go.

Being busy has helped. He and Hopper have come to form an odd friendship. To his credit, Hopper never treated Eddie any different despite his appearance. In fact, he said he's one of ‘Hawkins’ finest upstanding citizens’, since he can't go out and cause trouble. It's not like he can be the town's weed supplier, after all.

Eddie needed something to do. Hopper understood that deeply, he explained, from his own past traumas and grief. So, he started towing cars to the cabin, getting Eddie to fix them up and send them back as an impromptu mechanic. Fixing things and earning a little money have certainly improved his mood. When he wasn't doing that he was working on the cabin which was starting to feel like home.

You're on your way there right now. After the conversation you had with Hopper this morning, a huge smile is glued to your face.

Approaching your home, you see Eddie outside working on a car. When he sees you he bounds over, grabbing the two enormous suitcases you've been struggling with and lifting them with ease.

“What's all… this?”

“Take them inside, I've got some news.”

He does as you ask, depositing them on the floor before he holds you close, snout breathing in your scent at the crook of your neck.

“Eddie, I spoke with Hopper. He's agreed to give us the cabin for nothing. I just gave away my apartment, so I can stay here with you.”

Eddie barks with delight, picking you up and spinning you around. You giggle, holding onto his shoulders. He presses his maw to your tummy, breathing you in.

When he puts you down on the floor, there's a queer look in his eye.

“Eddie, something wrong?”

Shaking his head, he falls to his knees so he can look you in the eyes as he holds both your hands in one enormous paw.

“Not wrrrong… differrrrent. We'll need the cabin, forrr all of us.”

You tilt your head, confused.

“What do you mean? There's only me and you.”

Staring at you as if to gauge your reaction, he presses one bearish hand to your stomach reverently. The hint isn't lost on you, eyes widening in disbelief.

“Eddie, are you saying that you think I'm… pregnant?”

One slow blink.

Legs wobbling, you sit on the floor in front of him.

“I'm on birth control, I mean, surely I can't be… are you sure?”

Eddie taps his nose.

“I'm sure. Is it… a prrroblemm?”

Searching your thoughts you realise it isn't. It really isn't. There's nothing you want more than to spend your life with him, to have a family, no matter what that looks like.

“No, not at all. It's a little… fast, but I want this.”

Holding your cheek with his rough hand, he makes sure you keep your eyes trained on him.

“Are you surrre? What… if it's…”

He gestures to himself, in all his monstrous glory. Cupping his hand on your face, you shake your head.

“I don't care if we have a baby, or a-a cub, or a pup, as long as it's yours and mine.”

He holds you then, softly and close as you twine your fingers into his thick pelt.

A life lies before you, one that you couldn't have possibly predicted. A fairytale life; one where the monster gets the girl, and gets the happily ever after.

Taglist (if you want to be added/removed please PM me)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

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sarybomb · 1 month ago

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Tree monster 🌲💦

My specialty! Hesitating between horror and horny!

#sarybomb #patreon #art #illustration #monstober #monstober 2024 #horror #predator prey dynamic

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in-constant-agony · 6 months ago

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Everyone else has done furries so I had to get in on it… with violence!

Also @sparrrorow-art had the same general idea so go check out their version :)

#dst maxwell #dst wilson #dst #dst fanart #don’t starve #my stuff #predator prey dynamics are so…. yeah #maxwil

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joseopher · 7 months ago

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When I say I like predator/prey dynamics in fiction, yes I mean the mean "I will shield you with my teeth even if it hurts you" way but I also mean my dog and his homoerotic relationship with a squirrel.

LIke he thinks he's this horrible dangerous predator (and this thought is proven when all the other animals run from him) but there's this one squirrel that just doesn't give a shit. The squirrel will just sit there and let him stalk around and bark, just be like "okay can I eat my nut now?". And because the squirrel doesn't run, my dog refuses to eat or hurt him because he's just so confused. Or some sort of doggy moral code who knows

They are almost friends now??? My dog puffing up his cheeks as more a playful thing than threatening and the squirrel even leaving little unfinished meals around like he feels safe???

It's like "What if you were dangerous? What if you could hurt me? But what if I knew you wouldn't? What if I treated you like any other person equal to me and in turn you treated me like an equal as well?"

#andrew x neil #andreil #💃#character dynamics #predator x prey #all for the game

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sr-sam-bodypillow · 11 months ago

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masked!kaif hunting Stan and being incredibly menacing, taunting him as he cackles maniacally whilst walking down the halls dragging long sharp claws across the metal walls to make a horrid screeching sound, and Stan is slowly realising at the worst time possible that he has a massive fear kink and that yes, he is actually incredibly into being hunted like prey

sr lethal company au where one of the boys puts on the tragedy mask but instead of making them kill people it just makes them SUPER horny and they chase down the others to rail them in public

#staif #masked!kaif #predator/prey dynamics

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crustycrackhead · 3 months ago

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Freaks I tell you, freaks

Swampcat part something, I think it’s neat that an alligator’s jaw muscles have little strength for opening their mouth… Frost would take advantage of that, for fun and consensual purposes ☝️

I think more animal traits need to be appreciated, gator and tiger. They silly, slow blinking and remaining entirely still is my favorite. Or like how Frost would have dichromatic vision, Kremy and Frost would have like same shade of color to him. Like okay… matching (I’m insane). Kremy would have like a gorgeous blue suit. Yeah— rambling rambling— SILLY FREAKS… THEY’RE BOTH STRONG SWIMMERS DAMNIT!!! GRRRR THAT’S SILLY TO ME, THEY SPLASH AND SHIT DAMN 🙄

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dollgirlprey · 1 year ago

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inexperienced werewolf top only relying on breeding instincts and experienced bunny bottom willing and ready to teach them how well bunnygirls take big knots and how best to mark ownership on their mate's body

#predator/prey #terato #t4t kink #t4t nsft #willow.txt #inspired by a post i saw but i reversed the dynamic #@shen

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 3 months ago

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arikenny . . .

#he is holding me gently between his teeth <3 #was gonna sneak this into the moodboard but it didn’t fit so #into the queue it goes 🫡🫡#the predator/prey dynamics go so crazy with this one…#black cat!kenny . u will always be famous #ari noises ✩#selfshippy stuff ✩

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beeg-bark · 1 year ago

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Being stalked through the woods by something that likes to play with its prey, feeding as much on your fear as it will on your corpse. It finds your terror so so funny, your pants and whines so adorable and you know you’re nothing more than a toy for it. You’re in its territory and it knows that means it can do anything it wants to you. Bonus points if it’s not alone, if it’s working with something else that’s just as bored or just as hungry. The hunt is nothing but a game to them and you’re the most fun thing that’s ever stumbled into their woods

#asexual kink #dogbone #fear kink #predator kink #prey kink #primal kink #monster kink #idk getting hunted through the woods kink #cnc stalking #wolf pack dynamic type shit #people who followed me for the actual puppy kink #please be patient #i will get to you shortly #i just need to get this out of my system #whoops new kink unlocked #time to be annoying about it five ever

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offorestsongs · 3 months ago

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that feeling when your boyfriend sees you as a small prey animal <3

so i recently mentioned that Rook compares Lysander to a hare a lot and i could NOT rest until i drew this

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twst yuu #twst yuu oc #yuusona #oc x canon #twst oc x canon #<- well. it's implied #💌 art #⚜ lysander #❣️ lilyarrow #can't believe i drew his fursona #its a HARE not a RABBIT that's important thank you <3 #predator/prey dynamics my beloved <33 #i wanted to draw more to this but it's almost 5am and i'm tired #and i know im NOT gonna come back to it in the morning so. here #that's all y'all are getting

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msgexymunson · 11 months ago

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One Slow Blink Part 1

A/N: Part 1 of 2, only due to Tumblr restrictions. Adding the second part in a minute. This has come from yet another deranged dream of mine. I imagine Eddie looking kinda like a mix between the Beast from the original Beauty and the Beast, and the dog/kangaroo guys from Tank Girl, but with a longer snout. If you don't know, that's a dirty mix between a lion, a bear, a wolf and maybe a little of Venom's tongue (because I am a whore.)

22k words in total for both parts, I know, mental, but it's worth it ;)

Masterlist Part 2

Tires screech off of the road and onto a dirt path as Nancy turns erratically in her station wagon, the whole car shuddering in protest. Her hands are shaking on the wheel; so much so that you place a placating hand on her knee to try to calm her down.

You didn't know Nancy, not really. Hell, you only knew Dustin because he came into the hospital for a nasty cut on his leg when he fell off his bike three months ago. Then all of a sudden he shows up in the emergency room covered in blood, grime matted into his curly locks and tear streaks cutting through the dirt on his face.

He swore until he was blue in the face that it wasn't his, that he needed a doctor, anyone that could help. You tried and failed to convince him to call an ambulance but he insisted that no one else in the hospital would understand.

There was something about the desperate look in his eyes. It was frightening; those innocent eyes were hard, harder than they had any right to be. Dustin had seen something no child should have had to witness. With Max being admitted blind and unconscious with both arms and legs broken, and all the talk about strange occurrences around town, not to mention the freak earthquakes, it wasn't difficult to believe. But there was something he was not telling you, you were sure of it. Who comes to the ER without a patient and begs a nurse to come with them?

A feeling had settled in the pit of your stomach. The same thing had happened when the mall caught on fire. A feeling that things weren't what they at first glance appeared. Something strange and unnatural was going in, you were sure of it.

Maybe that's why you stole a trauma kit out of an ambulance. Maybe that's why you got in the car, pushed into the front seat by Dustin and Nancy. Maybe that's why you're being bundled out of said car and running through the woods, bracken cutting your ankles through your scrubs and leaves whipping at your face.

A light in the distance cuts through the dark, glowing and growing as you quickly approach. A small cabin, you see, ramshackle and falling apart. Stepping towards it, you're about to go in when a bellowing roar echoes throughout the woods and into your chest, vibrating your very lungs and stealing your breath away. The kind of roar that makes your survival instincts run wild, telling you to flee. You would listen to it, if your gut wasn't telling you that you were right where you were supposed to be.

A minute later, Steve is slamming the front door open, looking dishevelled. There's crimson smeared on his cheek; two long cuts run from temple to jaw dripping blood.

“Is he why-”

“Henderson, what the hell dude! You can't just bring anyone here!”

“I know Steve! She can help, she's a doctor-”

“Nurse, actually,” you interrupt rather sheepishly.

Steve rubs his hand through his mussed up hair and takes a pace backwards.

“Great, that's just great. When I told you to get someone-”

Dustin's response is high pitched and hard, tuning through the clearing.

“I did. I got someone! It's not like I could freaking advertise!”

“Look, you said you need help. What can I do?”

Steve and Dustin exchange dark glances.

“Alright, you better come with me.”

He heads back inside and you follow quietly wondering what the hell you've gotten yourself into.

The cabin is quaint, and clearly used to be a well loved home a while ago. Now however, there's a gaping hole in the ceiling and dust trailed across the living area. Robin is sitting on an old sofa, you remember her being in band at school. She looks terrible, cracking her knuckles and mumbling to herself incoherently.

“He's through here.”

You trail Steve as he leads to a door that's slightly ajar. Pushing it open with one finger he leans on the doorframe and gestures with the other hand at the most impossible thing you've ever seen in your life.

“What… is that?”

“That is Eddie.”

There's a figure strapped to a double bed with strips of fabric bound to its wrists and ankles. Torn clothing is clinging to parts of it, and what skin you can see is a mass of blood and hair. No, not hair. Fur. Its spine seems wrong, curving more than a humans, and its fingers are thick and adorned with semicircular black claws. The face is not recognizable anymore. You see a huge maw, lips curled in anger with razor sharp teeth on display and spit gathering down its matted chin. That's been bound too; a leather belt wrapped tight around it, you assume to stop it biting. It writhes around on the bed, snarling and growling deep in its throat as various wounds bleed out in front of you. One of its arms, if you could call it that, is bent at an odd angle and seems to be limp compared to the rest of it.

Standing there open-mouthed, you gawp at the thing.

“You said this is- this is Eddie??”

“Listen, I know it's insane-”

You step into the room, pulled by an invisible thread. It turns its head and looks straight into your eyes. Wide, warm eyes, full of pain, pleading with you. They're a soft brown, burnt umber, with a whisper of honey and summer days. Familiar eyes. Human eyes.

“Its- his arm is broken I think, and these wounds… isn't he wanted for-”

“He didn't do it. He could never. Just- just do what you can. Please. He- he's a hero.”

Standing by the edge of the bed, you reach out with shaking fingers to touch him lightly on the shoulder. He whips his head around, jaw inches from your trembling hand. His chest is heaving, arm struggling against its bindings.

“Eddie.”

You kneel to his eye level and stroke softly at the tatters of his t-shirt. He looks panicked, wide eyes rolling like a cornered animal as he continues to struggle.

“Eddie, I'm here to help you.”

Nothing but low growls and broken whines come from his tightly bound maw. The thrashing intensifies; he nearly lifts the bed up with sheer force. Steve takes a step back, but not you.

You climb up on the bed and straddle his floundering form. Blood smears your scrubs as you grasp his head firmly and turn it to face you.

“Eddie Munson, you listen to me right now! Stop squirming and listen!”

The silence is deafening, ringing in your ears. He stops his incessant battle against his confines and looks at you, the look of a frightened boy.

Voice softening, you stroke at the newly grown fur on his cheek. It's soft and warm.

“Eddie, do you remember me? We used to have English class together two years ago, with Mrs O’Donnell? You sat next to me. Remember?”

A flash of recognition dawns behind those soft brown eyes.

“You were late nearly everyday. You used to draw amazing things in your notebook, all sorts of creatures and symbols and I thought it was incredible. You- any time you caught me looking at you, you winked. You know I nearly failed that class because I was too busy staring at you, seeing what you'd do next?”

His breathing starts to slow down, his heaving chest moving up and down almost rhythmically now.

“You are Eddie Munson. You're in there, I can tell. I know you're scared, I get it, but I need to try and treat you. OK?”

He breathes deep, and something akin to a nod happens which seems to hurt him judging by the way his face tightens.

“Right. Stay still. I need to try and set your arm. I've got some painkillers in the trauma bag, so I'll need to inject you. Can you- can you blink once for yes, twice for no?”

He closes his eyes slowly, tight shut, and then opens them again.

“That's it, that's good. I'll be back.”

Clambering off his huge form, you turn to Steve who is already clutching the bag in his hands.

“That was- how did you do that?”

Filtering through the bag to find what you need, you pull out a syringe and unpack it, and find the drugs you're looking for and start setting up the needle.

“Listen, if I think about this too much I'm gonna panic, so shut up. I've never done this before.”

A strange calmness has descended upon you. Taking the needle you move back to Eddie's side and find a vein in his muscular arm.

“Eddie, I'm gonna inject you with some painkillers to take the edge off, OK?”

One slow blink.

“Good. You'll feel a scratch, doing it now.”

Once the drugs hit his system you know they've helped as the tension seems to leave his body.

“I need to set his arm, can you try and hold him steady?”

Steve looks like he'd rather run for the hills, but to his credit he nods and approaches.

“Right, hold up by his shoulder there, keep him still.”

You untie his limp wrist and Eddie whimpers when his arm falls to the bed.

“Now, Eddie, this is gonna hurt like hell, but once it's done it'll feel alot better.”

Instead of counting down you just arrange his arm into what you think is the right place and twist in one smooth motion.

Eddie's body convulses; you can see Steve trying to push all his weight into him, knuckles white from the pressure. The howling growl that rips from Eddie is muffled by the leather strap around his muzzle, and then it cuts off.

Eddie is completely still. After a second, a snarling snore fills the room.

“I think he passed out.”

“That's probably for the best. Now I need two straight sticks or something, and the bandages from my bag. I suppose I need to splint this.”

“What do you mean you suppose?”

“Steve!”

“OK OK! Jeez, you sound just like Nancy.”

He jogs off to get what you asked for, and when you have your materials you tie his arm into a makeshift splint.

“Now, there's trauma shears in the bag. I need to cut his clothes off and treat these wounds.”

Steve fumbles through the bag as you get more bandages and gauze ready. He passes them to you and you methodically remove the scraps of grimy torn clothes, eventually leaving him in a pair of tatty looking boxer shorts.

“Are you gonna, erm, cut those-”

“I think we can leave those on,” you rush it out of your mouth, a little faster and more high pitched than you meant to.

“Now, I need warm water and a clean towel or something.”

As you work together, Steve following your directions, you clean and bandage each wound you see as best as you can. After what seems like forever, you're finally finished, collapsing onto the floor exhausted with your back flush against the wall to keep you upright.

“He's probably gonna need some antibiotics. Those bites looked pretty gnarly. Maybe a tetanus shot. Fuck, maybe a vet.”

You huff a laugh with zero amusement in it as Steve sinks to the floor next to you.

“That was awesome, how'd you know all that stuff?”

“I'm studying to be a doctor, and I read every chance I get. I'm a junior nurse. You get to see some shit in the ER. Nothing like this, but apparently I must have learned something.”

“Sure did. You wanna go and get some rest? There's a bed next door.”

“No, I'll stay here, keep an eye on him. He's gonna need food, and water though.”

“I got it.”

Steve gets up and leaves, returning with a chair and a blanket.

“Thanks Steve. Is Dustin alright?”

“He fell asleep on the couch, when he's awake we'll tell you everything.”

He goes then, and you hear the front door shut softly.

********************

You ache, your back bending, contorting in a way that makes it burn. A warm blanket is covering your shoulders though, and the pillow underneath you is firm and fuzzy. There's an odd pressure on top of your head; it's slightly comforting. Risking opening one eye, yesterday's memories begin to flow into your consciousness.

You're sitting in a chair, bent over Eddie's sick bed, and that's not a pillow. Your head is resting on a furry shoulder. Reaching a tentative hand upward you realise his huge paw of a hand is resting on your head. Fingers find coarse hair, rougher than the fuzz on his chest, and his thick fingers taper into a bone like claw, smooth and curved.

With the patience of a bomb defusal expert, you lift his hand ever so gently and place it on his stomach. There's much less fur there, you see in the daylight, mostly skin and rippling muscle. It flexes under your gaze as his paw settles on top of it, absentmindedly scratching his skin in his sleep.

Careful not to wake him, you sit up and stretch, hearing pops and clicks from your backbone. He looks peaceful, huge chest rising and falling gently. The hair on his head is still long, matted and dirty but soft looking. There's a fuzz on his cheeks, and that maw of his is no longer snarling in pain though his canines still jut out slightly. An ear peeks out from his curls, the flesh still soft and pinkish, but it curls into a rounded point with downy fur at the tip.

Your eyes rake down, over his chest with the tattoo near his heart. The fur is thinner here too, and starts growing thickly in a long rope at his belly button, towards the hem of his underwear. A small gasp escapes you when you see the tent in his boxers. His member is pressing hard against the fabric, trying to break free from its cotton prison. It's thick, and clearly enormously long, your thighs clenching at the thought of touching it.

Well that was unexpected. You tear your eyes away almost shamefully. Just look at him, he's almost monstrous. Stop thinking about his package.

The door behind you creaks open, and Dustin is standing there. His gaze sweeps over Eddie, then sees what you just saw. Eyes widening comically, he slaps a hand over his face to block his view.

You stand, shrugging off the blanket you had wrapped around you, and place it delicately over Eddie. Taking one last look at his peaceful features, you follow Dustin out.

He and Nancy tell you everything. The demogorgon, the Upside Down, Will, Eleven, Vecna. It takes a couple of hours but you're patient, only asking questions to clarify some points. It's not like you don't believe him. After last night, you think you could believe anything.

By the time he's done, Steve is back with food, dumping bags in the kitchen.

“I took Robin home, she's in shock but she'll be alright. So how's Eddie Dog?”

“Eddie Dog?” You question, brow furrowing. Dustin pipes up.

“Demogorgon, Demodogs, Eddie Dog. I did think DemoEddie but Dog seems more-”

“I get it. He seems alright, I think. I mean, he's sleeping. I'll have to check the arm, and see if he gets a fever or anything but that seems like the least of his problems.”

Nancy speaks then, looking at you gently.

“You're being really, calm, about all this. You OK?”

“Oh I'm fine. I don't know why, but I'm fine. I sort of knew, deep down, what's been happening wasn't normal. Something told me I needed to be here, and I was right.”

Steve nods, happy with your response. At least he doesn't need to worry about you freaking out right now. Nancy just purses her lips and doesn't say anything else.

“I'm gonna have to untie him, you know. He needs to drink, and eat.”

“I'll help.” Dustin stands up, but you wave him down.

“No, I'll do it. He calmed down for me yesterday. I can do it.”

You stand and walk back over to Eddie's room, pushing the door open carefully. He stirs, looking at you with one eye.

“Eddie, how you feeling?”

He snorts, trying to paw at the leather around his muzzle with his injured arm.

“I'm gonna take that off and untie you. Are you… are you gonna be nice?”

He settles in the bed, head low to his chest. You take that as the best sign you can get right now. Walking over to him slowly, he turns his head to you. His eyes are soft.

You reach your hand out and cup his face gently, working the belt off with the other as you make shushing noises at him. You're not sure if they are for his benefit or yours.

When it's off, Eddie stretches his mouth wide, giving you a flash of rows of sharp teeth, and a long, thick purplish tongue. He snaps it shut and licks his lips dryly.

“You want some water?”

He blinks slowly at you. His eyelashes are thick and long, and almost look weirdly feminine against his wolfish face.

“Oh you remember that?”

Another slow blink.

“Good. Let me get you some water.”

You stand up but Steve's already at your elbow with a glass.

“Hey Munson, still alive then?”

Eddie stares at Steve for a second, lifts his injured arm up gradually, and unfurls his middle finger. Steve laughs loudly; relief coating it.

“Seems like you're still you. Good, I can't handle Dustin on my own, he's exhausting.”

A weird huffing noise comes from Eddie, almost a laugh. You hold the water up and he sits up slightly. No idea of how to get him to drink it, you tip up his chin and trickle some water gently into his open maw. He splutters slightly but manages to swallow it.

“I'm gonna untie you now, OK?”

He blinks slowly at you again and an unexpected warmth floods you. You begin at his feet; unbinding them, rubbing his ankles where they are red and sore, and rotating his feet around to get his circulation back. When you move to his bound arm he stares at you intensely, so much so it makes you blush. You take the same amount of time inspecting it, rubbing the redness away and circling his wrist.

When you move your hand he grasps it awkwardly so you can't move away. An odd noise is coming out of his mouth, a drawn out rumble of sound. His eyes crease with the effort.

A word emerges.

“...Thank.”

It's low, animal like, almost a growl, but it's a word.

“Eddie, you can talk?”

Tears spring into the corners of your eyes, though you don't know why. His face scrunches again, another bubble of growling sound forcing its way out of his maw.

“...harrrd.”

He looks like he's about to cry. You hold his cheek, stroking at the soft fur.

“It's alright, I'm sure it'll get better. You're just not used to it. I'll talk enough for the both of us, OK?”

He blinks deliberately at you again. A moment passes where you just stare at each other. Shaking your head as if to clear it, you cross to the other side of the bed to look at his broken arm.

“This looks… this can't be right. Eddie, does it hurt?”

He blinks once.

“OK, does it hurt a lot?”

Two slow blinks.

Untying the bandage, it looks almost healed. You change it, and inspect his other wounds. They look like they're already scarring, a mass of dried blood sticks to each patch of matted fur and skin but you could swear the damage happened weeks ago. They're healed so much that you take the wrappings off and don't bother to recover them.

“They've healed. I don't know how, but look.”

Eddie looks down at the scars on his abdomen, pawing at them in disbelief, causing dried blood to crust off in crimson flakes.

“Do you think you can stand up? We need to get you clean.”

He nods softly and you move to hold his uninjured arm to help him up. Placing two elongated feet on the floor, he manages to bend his knees and rise from the mattress.

He's huge. Seeing him unfurl makes you realise just how huge. He's got to be at least seven feet tall, with a broad chest and thick, powerful legs. He turns to the door and whips you inadvertently.

“Ouch, be careful with your tail Eddie.”

He spins, turning to look over his shoulder and stares at you with wild eyes.

“Yes, tail. Look.”

His paw reaches and feels it, face twisted incredulously. He shuffles forward toward the door frame with it still in his grip approaching where Steve is standing.

“Don't play with that you'll go blind,” he jokes. Eddie pats him in the chest with what should have been a mock hit, but the force of it pushes Steve back into the wall.

“Woah, easy there, big guy.”

You angle Eddie toward the bathroom and he ducks low, shuffling sideways through the doorway.

“Hmm,” you say, thinking aloud, “no way you're standing under that shower. Tell you what, if you sit in the tub I should be able to clean you.”

He stares wide eyed, glancing down to his tattered underwear and back up to you.

“You need help, Eddie, your arms broken and you shouldn't get it wet. Don't worry, I've seen- no wait, I've not seen anything like this before, but I'm a nurse. I can help you.”

Eddie continues to stand there, a low growl beginning to vibrate out of his chest. You close and lock the bathroom door, then turn back to him with your arms folded.

“Enough of that, you don't scare me. Pants off and in the tub. Now.”

Snapping his teeth in annoyance, he hooks claws into his underwear and pulls them down. As he clambers awkwardly in you briefly see his member hanging between his legs before he cups himself and settles down, squished in the enamel bath.

“Right, stick your bad arm out to the side, that's it, let me get the water running.”

You unclip the tiny shower head and turn it on, directing the stream to the plug hole until it's warm enough. Then, you begin to clean him methodically, rinsing all the blood and grime away. His fur is soft, muscles flexing under each gentle touch of your fingertips. You rinse his head of hair under the shower head, massaging his scalp, and a noise bordering on a purr exudes from him.

You're not sure if you should use shampoo over his whole body, but since all you can find to scrub him with is some drug store 3 in 1 and your bare hands, you suppose that will have to do. You begin to lather his head, rinse it off, and start working down his torso. He squirms, getting more tense the further down you go, until he starts hissing at each brush of your fingers.

“Eddie, what's wrong?”

Voice tight and strained through his tense jaw, he manages a word.

“Hurrrt.”

“I'm sorry, I'm trying to be careful. Where does it hurt?”

Throwing his head back, it smacks into the wall so hard the room shakes.

“Eddie, I can't help if-”

He looks at you and nods downwards towards his crotch, the one place you've avoided entirely so far. You follow his gaze and he awkwardly uncups himself.

His cock is standing to attention, twitching and throbbing. The end is bulbous and as purple as his tongue, the shaft thick and long, snaking out from a base of matted fur.

Your face glows with heat, blood pumping viciously to your cheeks.

“Did- did it get, er, injured, yesterday?”

He shakes his head, wincing with the movement.

“Do you want me to leave you for a minute?”

It's practically a whisper. Eddie looks anywhere but your face. Moving his hand, he shows you that he can't hold around the shaft with his thick claws.

“OK I get you,” you say, nerves shaking your voice.

You said you'd help him. You can just help him, right?

“D-do you want me to help?”

His eyes snap to yours, wide and wet. He doesn't move or say anything further, just stares. You reach down with your hand, checking up with his face. There's no change in his beastial features. Hesitantly, you cup the swollen head with your palm. He flinches, water cascading out of the tub, but doesn't take his eyes off you.

Reaching down, you gather some lather from the grubby water and begin to move your hand up and down his bulky shaft. It feels hot to the touch, and solid as a rock underneath the soft feel of his delicate skin. The noise he makes is almost a sigh of relief, head leaning backward as his spine arches to your touch.

You're struggling to get your hand around his thickness, so you extend your other arm and wrap both hands around his impressive length, stroking firmly up and down. Eddie starts whining in his throat, a desperate noise. He's thrusting into your grip, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. You start to feel throbbing between your own legs, a pulse thumping deep inside that's difficult to ignore. Focusing on your strokes, you push the feeling to the back of your mind.

You watch him instead, his chest heaving, legs beginning to shake as his dick leaks pre cum down your hands. Adding a twist to the tip of his head with each upstroke, he whimpers and whines in his throat. Impossibly, he seems to be getting even larger. You feel a bulbous growth at the base of his cock at the same time he releases, splattering cum over your fists, his chest, the water, his legs. You've never seen so much cum in all your life. He tenses all over, stifling a broken grunt from his maw. You go to move off him but he places a paw over your hand, a silent plea to keep you in place. So, you keep holding him firmly as his breath starts to regulate again.

A few minutes later he lets you go, his cock still half hard and slightly submerged in the water. Not saying a word, you rinse him down, cleaning any remaining suds and sticky release off of him, not daring to look up at his face. Once that's done, you cough and stand up, grabbing a scratchy towel to dry him off with. As he gets out of the bath, water winding down the drain and gurgling in protest, you dry him off as best as you can, taking care to be gentle around the scabs and scars. The room smells like wet dog. Finally wrapping the towel around his waist, you step back, looking over his body to check if anything is bleeding.

A clawed hand reaches to your face, the rough furry knuckle tucking under your chin, lifting it up. For the first time since it happened, you look back into his eyes, shame tumbling in your gut.

“Thanks.”

“Don't mention it.”

He gestures widely at his torso, and you snap back to your senses.

“Clothes! I'll- I'll find you something to wear, just- just hold on. I'll be back.”

You stumble quickly out the bathroom, back slamming against the shut door and close your eyes.

What in the absolute fuck was that?

You have no answers. Surely you were just being a good friend? A really good friend. It didn't explain why you are turned on so much, your own thighs feeling wet and sticky, slick dampening your underwear.

Nancy approaches as you snap your eyes open.

“You OK? Can I help?”

“Yeah, er, we need some clothes for him. Big clothes. Real big. Is there… anything?”

“Hmm,” she says, “I think I saw some of Hopper's old things in the closet. I can go out? Grab some things?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

She nods, flashing a tight lipped smile, and grabs her keys from the side. You search the closet and find a white t-shirt and some sweats, returning to the bathroom to help him put them on. The top is a stretch; on anyone else it'd be baggy but on him it looks like a muscle shirt. After some minor adjustments to the pants, which included cutting a hole for his tail, they fit well enough.

“Listen, Eddie, I need to leave.”

He snaps his head towards you, whining.

“It's alright, I've just got a shift at the hospital. Nancy's getting some more clothes for you, and Steve's brought some food. Go. Go and eat, and I'll be back in a few hours.”

He huffs, but moves carefully to the living room anyway. You explain what's happening to Steve, making sure to tell him to change the bedsheets, and turn to the front door. As you're about to leave, you hear a low, growling word that shakes through you and makes your eyes brim with emotion. It's your name.

********************

You shower and change at the hospital, willing your shift to be over and done with. Managing to explain away your disappearance last night to your boss with a trite story of helping with Search and Rescue, you breathe in the relief that you won't lose your job. He even understands that you need a couple of days leave; after you hint heavily that you had lost your family in the earthquakes of course. It's a dirty lie, your family doesn't even live near here anymore, but he doesn't need to know that.

With all the medical emergencies, you're rushed off of your feet, which at least makes the time fly by. After the shift you race back to your apartment, flinging things in a bag. Changes of clothes, a bunch of leftover food from the freezer, and a tape player with a few tapes that you hope will cheer Eddie up. You change as well, putting on a summer dress and tennis shoes, trying to convince yourself you're not doing it for him.

It's inexplicable; you're aching to see him again. It's like a limb has been severed and the phantom pain is excruciating. Which is fucking mental to say the least. You barely know him, and he's… changed.

Driving like a woman possessed, you reach the dirt turning in record time, slamming the breaks when you reach Steve and Nancy's cars. At least he's not alone.

As you jog toward the cabin, you hear a roar, one so loud it dislodges birds from their nests, flapping anxiously to escape. The jog turns into a run as you fly toward the front door, unceremoniously slamming it open.

“Thank Christ it's you! I can't. I can't deal with him. Please.”

Steve looks drained, begging you with wide eyes. There's a fresh cut under his eye with a small bruise forming.

“What the hell happened?”

Nancy approaches, placing a thin hand on your forearm.

“Eddie, he's… we can't do anything, he just keeps calling your name.”

“Roaring it, actually,” Steve adds, looking at your hand with the bulky bag in it. “Are you staying?”

“Yeah, well I thought, I mean- I live alone. No one's gonna miss me for a few days. The hospital knows, so yeah. I suppose I'm staying.”

A crash next door makes you all jump.

“Are you gonna-”

“Yes, I'm going in there. I'll be fine.”

As you tiptoe to the door, you hear Steve mutter, ‘she must be one of us, she goes towards the scary noises.’

“Eddie.”

It's nearly a whisper, but he hears, whipping around to face you. Before you can do anything he's striding forward and wrapping his fierce arms around you. You tense, expecting him to break your ribs, but you relax when the hug is soft.

Your eyes scan the carnage in the room. The chair you'd sat on whilst nursing his injuries is in splinters on the floor. A cabinet looks like a bull ran into it, and there's glass under your shoes.

The bed seems fine at least. Coaxing him gently, you lead him to it and perch on the edge. He sits next to you, not letting you go.

“Eddie what the hell happened?”

Unclenching his grip, he looks at you with tear filled eyes, anguish etched into his very skin. He's trying to form words, you can see it in the way he's concentrating, but they just won't come. Face screwed up, he balls his fist and howls when a claw digs into his own flesh, which only serves to exacerbate the ball of emotion that's fighting his insides.

“It's OK, I'm here, just breathe.”

His maw continues to open and shut, paw gesticulating wildly. You grasp it, being careful of his sharp claws, and try something else.

“Alright, you can't use your words. That's fine, you can just let it out. Just like, awoooo!”

You let out your own mini howl as he stares at you in disbelief.

“Go on, it'll feel good. See? Awwooooo!”

He stares at you with wide eyes, an almost amused look dancing within them.

“See? I feel better. Awwooooo!”

Shaking his large head, he gives you a side glance and tilts his head back to the heavens.

“AARRROOOOOOO!”

It's long and loud, bursting in your ears as a wall of sound.

“Eddie that was awesome,” you gush, hand reaching to wind fingers into his curls.

“Are you OK, I heard- oh.”

Steve bursts in and sees you smiling, Eddie staring at you like a puppy.

“Right, now that's just- what in the- I'll just-”

He leaves looking stunned, never finishing a sentence. A giggle bubbles out of you, a silly little thing that dances in your chest. Eddie reaches to touch your hand in his hair but the claws hit first making you flinch at the sharpness. He looks at you, pained.

“It's alright, you didn't hurt me. At least I can do something about that. Come with me.”

You guide him up and out the room. Steve and Nancy leap off the couch, staring bug eyed, on the cusp of running.

“It's fine, he's just- frustrated. It's a lot to deal with. I'm sure he's very sorry for scaring you, aren't you Eddie?”

The last words are directed at him and he looks down at his feet.

“-Orry.”

“See? If you calm down a little you can speak. We're gonna cut his cla- his nails.”

Steve shakes his head, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but Nancy? Nancy just smiles, looking between the pair of you, like she just heard a secret.

“I think we should go Steve,” she says, holding him by the elbow to guide him towards the door.

“But we- what if he-”

“Steve!”

“Alright, alright! Keep your pants on. I hope you've got food in that big bag of yours, ‘cause he ate three whole rotisserie chickens. Three! Bones and everything.”

“We’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Nancy drags Steve out the door as he's shouting over his shoulder.

“We'll check on you tomorrow!”

“OK!”

The front door shuts and it's silent in the cabin. Coughing awkwardly, you look around the room searching, speaking as you do so.

“Right, so, let's sort out the bedroom first.”

A broom rests against a nearby wall, so you take it and sweep up the glass shards and bits of furniture and dump them outside. It's not perfect but at least you shouldn't cut your feet.

“OK, nail clippers are not going to work. We need something… is there a toolbox or…”

Mumbling away, you finally locate a dusty red snapbox by the back door and extricate a pair of tin snips and a metal file.

“These should do. Sit down Eddie, I'll put the TV on.”

He does as he's told, carefully tucking his tail under as he perches on the couch. It screams with the weight but holds steady.

You get to work, sorting out the claws on his feet before moving to his bearish hands. The TV mutters indistinctly in the background as you clip and file his claws to half their size; as close to his fingers as you dared. When you look up you see Eddie's gaze is transfixed on you. Ignoring the heat of his stare, you finish up, prodding the end of each nail with a finger pad.

“See? No more scratching. Should be able to practise using your hands more too.”

A heat rolls across your face at your own dirty thoughts. If Eddie notices, he doesn't say anything.

“I brought some beers, you want one?”

He can nod and shake his head now without pain, you've seen him moving with ease, but he chooses instead to blink slowly at you. Gasping a little, you get up and fetch the beers from the fridge and hand one over. It's tricky, but he manages to hold it, looking at you for validation.

“See? That's great! You just need practice.”

“Prrractice.”

“Yes! That's really good, Eddie.”

You beam a sunny smile at him but he looks down and away from you.

“What is it?”

Turning back with glassy eyes, he waves a hand at his new form.

“-rreak.”

“Sorry, what?”

“F-rreak.”

“No! No, Eddie, stop,” you respond, holding one huge hand in both of yours, “you're not a freak. You're scared and, and different, and God knows this is a strange situation, but you're not a freak. You were never a freak.”

He brings one burly arm around your shoulders and hugs you tight to his chest. You can feel the pads of his fingers now, stroking at your arm. For some reason, that's what makes you cry. Tears fall unbidden, streaking down your face alarmingly fast. Eddie pulls away to look at you, eyes brimming with concern.

“I'm fine, it's fine. Really. I just- I can feel your fingertips now.”

Eddie flashes the closest thing to a smile his new face can allow and laces his tough, furry fingers with yours. You sit like that for a while, drinking your beers and staring mindlessly at the TV. Eyes beginning to close of their own accord, you realise you need to go to sleep before you pass out.

“I need to sleep Eddie. Hang on, I'm gonna go change.”

You stand up, fishing a tank top and sleep shorts from your bag as well as a toothbrush, and go about getting ready for bed.

When you return, the TV is off, and Eddie's sitting in a pair of plain black boxer shorts that Nancy must have bought him.

“Eddie, do you think you can brush your teeth or do you need a hand?”

He gets up determined and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Trusting he knows what he's doing, you make your way to the spare room. The bed is tiny and there's no duvet or pillow, just a ratty blanket.

Eddie appears in the doorway.

“No.”

“Huh?”

You turn and he waves a hand at the bed almost in disgust. Taking you by the arm, he leads you to the main bedroom.

“You, herrre.”

He turns and the word is out of your mouth before your brain has a chance to wake up.

“Wait!”

As he looks at you expectantly, you blush and stammer over your sentence.

“I mean, that other bed- it's too small for you Eddie, and theres- there's no pillows and-”

Reaching out with a paw-like hand, he settles it on your forearm gently.

“Herrre?”

“Yeah? If you don't mind, of course.”

Without a further word he climbs onto the bed, covering himself with the duvet you'd found in the closet. You shut the light off and get in too, laying at the very edge of the bed, knees dangling over thin air.

Eddie's not having that though. His arm swipes over and pulls you close so fast air leaves your lungs in a gasp. You settle into him, hand laying on his chest, a furry leg underneath your knee.

“Goodnight Eddie.”

“-Night.”

********************

When morning rolls around you find yourself alone in the bed, a cold dip in the mattress next to you. There's noise coming from the kitchen area but it sounds contained; nothing like the sounds you heard when you arrived yesterday.

The bandage and sticks you hastily splinted his arm with are discarded in a pile on the floor. The material looks like it had been ripped apart by sharp teeth.

Padding out of the room on bare feet you see Eddie's back. The fur along his spine is longer and thicker than the rest, and his tail is swishing. It's sticking out of the hole you made in a pair of sweatpants as he wiggles a frying pan.

“Morning Eddie. Your arm healed already?”

He flicks a glance over his shoulder and flashes his canine teeth, waving the arm around to show you.

“-orrning. Bet-terr.”

“Are you making breakfast?”

He points to a plate next to him where a haphazard tower of pancakes sit.

“Prractice.”

You walk over, shivering a little. Someone's going to have to do something about the holes in the ceiling here. Making a mental note to speak with Steve, you cross the room and stand next to Eddie.

“You need any help?”

He shakes his head and gestures to the table.

“Sit. Eat.”

You pick a couple of pancakes up and put them on a small plate and unearth an ancient bottle of maple syrup from a cupboard. The pancakes are surprisingly good; you find a hair in one but don't mention it.

“Eddie, these are delicious! Thank you.”

“You'rre -elcome.”

“And you're speaking so well!”

“Prrractice.”

He sits opposite you with an enormous plate stacked high with pancakes, offering another to you. Taking one more, you place it neatly on your plate.

“Thanks but that's it. I know you need practice but we don't need so many-”

He picks up two and puts them in his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing and picking up three more.

“-Oh. We're gonna need more food.”

Eddie nods, finishing the stack of pancakes in less than a minute. When he's done, his thick tongue lulls out to lick his fingers. It's so long, practically wrapping around each individual digit.

Mouth hanging open, you snap it shut and close your eyes for a moment trying to will the hedonistic thoughts you're having to stop swirling around your brain.

When you open them again he's staring at you intensely, a hint of amusement in those soulful eyes.

Looking down to avoid that stare, you ask something that you've been dying to find out.

“Eddie, can I ask- are you still, you, in there? Like completely? Or is it, different?”

He looks away, seemingly thinking. It's a while before he turns back, face contorting with the effort of words.

“Still -e, I think. Head… fog-gy. Hurrts. Prrractice.”

You nod and reach for his hand, proud of him for his longest sentence yet. He holds yours gently; the thumb rubbing back and forth over your knuckles showing much better dexterity than yesterday.

A loud knock at the door startles you both, until you hear Steve's voice ring out.

“It's me, it's Steve! You alive?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and you stifle a giggle.

“No Steve, I died! I was maimed! Blood and guts everywhere!”

You smile as you say it, winking at Eddie. Steve barges in, shaking his head.

“Ha ha, very funny. Excuse me for caring,” he turns to Eddie, voice softer than before, “how you feeling, buddy?”

Eddie flashes his teeth.

“Bet-terr.”

“Good, awesome. Hey, did I miss breakfast?”

“Sure did. Eddie made it.”

“Really?”

Steve looks stunned, glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“Yup, he did. All on his own. Actually, while you're here, we need to fix those holes in the roof. At least board them up or something.”

“Yeah sure, I can do that, but I'll need a hand.”

“I… can hel-p.”

The boys get to work and you leave them to it. You busy yourself too; dusting and cleaning the cabin, hanging a sheet up in the bedroom as a makeshift curtain, and making a list of everything you need from the store foodwise. Then, you add even more to it, including four rotisserie chickens.

Whilst food is on your mind, you make a huge pile of sandwiches and call them both in for lunch. Steve looks shocked at the amount of food.

“Woah, don't think we need all-”

Eddie shakes his head and grabs two sandwiches, putting them both in his mouth at once.

“Ah. Right.”

“I think he needs a lot of food because of the injuries. He healed so quickly, I mean, he's got to get the energy from somewhere, right?”

Steve slowly nods, looking at Eddie as he stuffs another sandwich in his mouth.

“Yeah, I guess. Plus, look at the size of him.”

Eddie swallows thickly and stares at the pair of you.

“Can… hearrr you. Rrrude.”

“Sorry, you're right, that was rude of us Eddie.”

You reach a hand out and stroke his arm; his gaze immediately softens.

“Wow, you're like, the Eddie whisperer or some shit.”

Eddie growls in his throat.

“Hey, that wasn't about you it was about her!”

After lunch, they get back to work, completing the patch job on the roof in a few hours. By the time they're done, the sun is starting to set. Steve leaves the pair of you, taking the shopping list and promising he and Nancy will be back tomorrow with fresh supplies. You offer him some money which he swears blind he doesn't need, but you give it to him anyway.

Once dinner is demolished, you and Eddie sit on the couch, watching some made for TV movie. Well, he seems to be watching it. You're uncomfortable, thighs clenching in an effort to put out the raging fire between them. Hyper aware of his arm over your shoulders, you try to block all the horny signals to your brain but it's not working. Huffing loudly, you bite your lip, shuddering at each touch of his gnarled finger pads on the smooth skin of your arm.

“You good?”

You glance up and see Eddie's eyes boring into you.

“Yeah, of course, I'm great.”

“Liarrr.”

Flashing his teeth, he lets out a rough chuckling sound. You press your lips together firmly, refusing to respond.

“You want me. You… want… this.”

He points to his mouth, tongue dipping out past his sharp teeth, far longer than a tongue had any right to be. He twirls it in a little circle and puts the purplish muscle back in his mouth.

“Oh really?” You reply hotly, “and what makes you think that, huh?”

“Can scent.”

“What?”

Wordlessly, he points between your legs. Clenching your thighs harder, you glow scarlet, face igniting with such heat that it almost hurts.

“Eddie, you can't just say that's it- it's impolite!!”

Letting out a little howl of amusement, he strokes up and down your back with his large hand sending shivers through your spine.

He's not wrong. Your panties are clinging to your wet heat uncomfortably, thighs sodden with false anticipation. Your blood is on fire, pumping fast and hard to your aching clit. It's bewildering; you've never felt so needy in all your life. He must be letting out some pheromones or something, brain grasping wildly at straws for an explanation.

“-Orry. Just… you help-ed mme. I can… help you.”

“I don't think- I'm not sure that's a good idea. I mean, your heads all foggy, you said, and, and-”

“Want to.”

He looks entirely serious, meeting your gaze with hardly a blink.

Are you really gonna do this?

Your body is protesting the lack of a decision, pulse thumping hard in your cunt as if to remind you of your predicament. It takes over, urging your hands under your dress to peel off your sticky underwear and put them to one side. Eddie doesn't move, waiting for you to speak, but you can see his pupils are blown, eyes nearly fully black. His snout is snuffling the air, tasting you through his nose.

“Could you… please?”

Tears are stinging your eyes at the discomfort. Eddie blinks once slowly at you, and immediately crouches to his hands and knees on the floor. As he crawls between your thighs, it strikes you that the movement seems more natural than him standing like a person. Gently, he slides your dress up your legs and pushes your legs apart with his giant hands.

You're waiting for the first touch of his tongue, but it doesn't come. First, he smells you, inhaling your cunt so deeply that embarrassment blooms in your chest. The growling, humming noise that emanates from him vibrates into your very bones; it's laced with such desire that your thighs begin to quiver.

Then, he tastes you; tongue lapping at your sex suddenly. You were expecting it, but you weren't expecting the sheer relief that flooded your senses at the first touch of his dripping maw. He slathers it all over you, cleaning your slick from the tops of your thighs, tongue slithering through your folds, around your clit, right down to your ass, as if he can't get enough of the taste of you.

Whining and bucking your hips up already, he growls, holding you open with one brutish hand as the other pushes into the softness of your belly pinning you in place. You can see where his thick blunted claws push at your flesh, leaving dimples on your stomach.

Then his tongue is writhing inside of you, twirling and dancing, hitting spots no other tongue could ever reach. Moans are ripped from your chest, the kind of sounds you would never dare to make before. Pathetic whines, hoarse shouts, screeching cries of pure pleasure. His snout is pressed firmly up against your clit; it's scrunched with the pressure, and each flick of his head makes him nussle it over and over.

Despite Eddie's firm hand holding you down, you still manage to thrash about, legs twitching and back bucking uncontrollably. Your walls are convulsing around his muscle, fluttering with each pulse. He tongue fucks you in earnest then, knowing you're reaching that crescendo as your noises get even louder.

You're beyond words. You couldn't tell him you were about to come if your life depended on it. The only word you can manage is a high pitched squeal of his name as your release floods out of you, slick gushing over his face.

He laps it up, tongue washing over you as you collapse back into the sofa cushions, throat hoarse from yelling. There's an odd, murmuring grunt sound coming from him, the same sound over and over. As your ears finally stop ringing you release he's mumbling a word into you, almost incomprehensible in between licks.

“Mine. Mine, mine… mmmmine.”

Over and over he says it; like a mantra, a prayer to your cunt. Eventually you have to tug him away by his hair to stop him compulsively lapping at you.

He looks up, dazed eyes starting to refocus as he pants like a dog. You pat the fur on his neck over and over, rubbing your fingers through it, your stare desperately trying to tell him what a good job he did.

As he sinks down and sits on the floor, you join him, sliding off the couch and crawling into his lap. He holds you close, nose nuzzling your neck.

“Wan’ kiss you.”

You know what he means. He wants to kiss you properly, like a man and a woman kiss. Not like a beast.

You cradle his head, making your hands appear tiny in comparison, and twist your fingers gently in his fur. Pulling his closed maw toward you, you press your lips against it softly, nudging his nose with yours like he did with your neck. It seems to placate his needs. He keeps his arms in a tight embrace around you as you move your heads as one, nudging your faces together, letting actions speak instead of words.

For the second time in as many days, you wonder what the hell you're getting yourself into.

********************

“Eddie, come try this!”

Calling from the kitchen, you mix batter in a huge bowl, trying to work out if you've used enough sugar. Technically speaking, you're not a chef. Far from it. The last cake you made sank in the middle so much it resembled a sad bundt cake.

“Eddie?”

All you hear is muffled music playing from the bedroom. You go and investigate, spatula in hand, and gently swing the door open.

Eddie's shirtless, his sweats hanging low on his hips, with his guitar slung around his neck. His muscles flex with every strum of his fingers, face screwed in concentration as he attempts to follow along with the tape.

“Eddie?”

Finally he glances up, eyebrows unknitting as he looks at you.

“Wherre you find… the aprrron?”

You'd forgotten about the apron. Glancing down, you see flour dusting it. You brush it off absentmindedly and look back at him.

“Oh, it was in a drawer.”

“Hot.”

You giggle, cheeks flushing.

“What you doing Eddie? Practising?”

He huffs, taking his guitar and laying it gently against the bed.

“Trrrying. Not good enough.”

“Yet.”

Exposing his teeth in a bestial smile, he walks over to you.

“Yet. What you calling forrr?”

He tilts his head, exposing the fuzzy tip of his ear through his hair, rough hand rubbing up your arm.

“Oh, I see. You could hear me, hmm?” You place your hand on your hip dramatically. He nods, crowding over you, making your breath hitch in your throat, as thick furry fingers stroke at your skin.

“Well, I was asking you to try this.”

You tap his nose with the end of the spatula, leaving behind a splat of uncooked cake batter. His maw opens in shock as you laugh.

“Don't… do…”

“What, don't do this?”

You get him again, this time on his cheek, smudging the mixture in the soft fur. He raises an eyebrow at you, face stoic as he crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest. He'd look intimidating, if it wasn't for the batter dripping off his snout.

“What you gonna do about it, huh?”

He takes a step backward, unfolding his arms, and cracks his neck from side to side. His knuckles are next, popping with the stretch. Then, he starts growling out a low countdown.

“One… two… thrrree…”

“Oh, it's like that is it?”

“...fourrr… five…”

You run out of the room, flinging the spatula onto the kitchen side, and look for somewhere to go, but there isn't anywhere. This place is tiny. Jogging around the couch, you hear Eddie roar like a lion and your pulse quickens. He shoulders nonchalantly out the bedroom, crouching low. Adrenaline hits you as you try to work out how to get past.

Attempting to fake him out, you run one way, then immediately double back, dashing around the back of the couch. Eddie's moves are a blur, husky arm scooping you up by the waist and dragging you over his shoulder in an instant. Kicking and giggling, you bash at his back trying to get him to let go, but you may as well pound on a concrete wall.

There's a sudden rush of air and your back meets the wooden floor, landing with a soft ‘ooft’ noise. He pins you down, powerful legs straddling you, holding both your arms over your head with one brutish hand almost lazily. It easily circles both of your wrists.

Taking his free hand, he scoops the mixture off of his nose and licks it with his tongue, twirling it around until every last bit is gone. You're breathing heavily. That display, teamed with him wrestling you to the ground so easily, has your heart thumping a tattoo inside your chest.

He makes a face, scrunching his snout.

“That bad?”

“I know… what rrrather eat.”

Flashing his pointed teeth, he runs his tongue over them, looking at you like you're his favourite meal. He leans in close, hot breath fanning your face.

“You like this.”

“No.” You say, even though you're trembling and hot all over.

“Liarrr.” He says it whilst tapping his nose.

He pushes his body against yours so you can feel his solid bulge pressing up against your core. Nothing can stop the whimper that gurgles out your throat, no matter how much you bite your lip.

A warm hand paws at your breast over the apron as his tongue dances across the shell of your ear. Pushing upward with your hips, you make a futile attempt at escaping. Not that you want to, but the game is just getting good. He growls in your ear and the sound shoots straight to your cunt…

Then the front door flies open.

“So we got- Jesus Eddie, no! Get the hell off her!”

Steve drops paper bags on the floor as you both turn your heads to face him. Nancy's running in beside him trying to drag him backwards by the elbow.

“Steve, I don't think-”

“It's not what it looks like!” You stammer it out as Steve gawps.

“What- what's going on!”

Nancy turns him so he has to look at her, talking to him like a child.

“Steve, when a man and a woman like each other very much-”

His face immediately starts glowing scarlet. Eddie clambers off you and holds one hand out to lift you off the floor, hunching awkwardly to try and hide his erection as he takes refuge behind the couch.

“Seriously? Him? He's- he's-”

He gestures widely at Eddie. You hear a snarling coming from behind you so you hold a hand out to calm him, fingers meeting soft fur. Your eyes harden as you stare sternly at Steve.

“He's Eddie. He's just Eddie. He might look different but he's still here, and you're being… rude.”

“You're right, I'm sorry,” he looks over to Eddie sheepishly, “sorry Munson, I didn't mean-”

“Don't worrry, I… underrrstan’. Harrrd to rremem-berrr… even forrr mme.”

Steve looks surprised at how much his speech has come on, but he doesn't mention it. Instead, he holds out a hand, taking Eddie's giant one in his own and shaking it.

“Listen, I got what you asked for, it should be all here. If you're both alright, we'll get out of your fur- shit- hair! Out of your hair!”

Eddie snickers low in his throat as Steve tries to hide his face from his own faux pas.

After packing the food away, and a couple of hugs and goodbyes, they leave you it. Nancy promises they'll be back in a couple of days to check in, and that they'll knock first.

Once you're both alone you breathe a sigh of relief, turning to Eddie.

“I'm sorry about him.”

Eddie looks down, clutching the back of the couch.

“I'm s-orry. Should have… ask-ed you out beforrre… this.”

You round the couch and grasp his bicep in your hands, staring at his side profile.

“Hey, hey, you didn't know this was gonna happen. How could you ask me out? It's not like you even noticed me really before, right?”

Eddie refuses to meet your gaze. His eyelashes are dipping down, nearly kissing his cheeks.

“Eddie?”

He rumbles a sound out, shaking his head, making his hair ripple about his shoulders.

“I… lik-ed you. Wan-ted you. Was… scarrred. You werrre.. arrre… too good forrr mme.”

An ache settles in your chest at his words, face creasing with anguish.

“Oh... Oh, Eddie, don't do that. I'm here now. And I'm not too good, that's just not true.”

Your fingers wind into his fur, trying to tug him around but it's no use. You can see the tension in his arm underneath.

So, if that isn't working, you'll try something else.

“Seems I won.”

His head turns quickly then, staring at you, muzzle wrinkled in confusion.

“Our little chase?”

You wipe the remnants of cake batter off of his cheek with two fingers. He watches you intently as you bring them to your mouth, pushing them deep inside and hollowing your cheeks. Eddie grunts, maw extending open slightly as he swallows thickly in his throat. You suck hard, and pull your fingers out, running the flat of your tongue up and around them, leaving a string of spit behind.

“I think you're right, that doesn't taste good.”

Eddie's staring at you, eyes nearly black as his tongue lulls from his mouth, panting.

“So, I won. I got free, didn't I?”

Eddie's ribs are rising and falling distinctly. He steps toward you, the back of his hand dragging its coarse knuckles over your cheek.

“Don't count… Caught you.”

“Yeah? And I got free! So I win, right? Unless you don't think that's fair?”

Snout nuzzling at your hairline, he breathes in your scent deeply and cups your face, pulling it towards his. You kiss his mouth gently, crushing soft lips against his hard jaw. He pushes his maw against you, opening his mouth and snaking his tongue between your lips.

It's messy, tongues licking each other as spit pools and drips down your chin. His burly hand rests on the back of your head, covering it completely, forcing you to stay in place, while the other reaches down to grasp at the flesh of your ass.

When you break away, you're both panting, breathing laboured and ragged.

“Woah. Fuck,” you huff out between hard exhales, “you can kiss.”

“Interrrrup-ted.”

“Huh?”

You're dizzy from the kiss, lips red and swollen, still slightly parted as his fingers trace down your back.

“We werre… interrrup-ted. Don't count.”

“Ah, I see. So what do you-”

“One. Two… thrrree…”

This time you fly from his grip and race out the room, considering the bathroom for a second before you dive wildly into the main bedroom. Eyes scanning as quickly as you can, you see a trap door at the foot of the bed.

It swings open when you pull the rusted metal ring and you stick your head inside. It's little more than a crawl space, full of cobwebs and mouldy boxes. You scrabble inside and snap the trap door shut just as you hear a bellowing roar from the other room.

He won't actually be expecting you to hide, and you're rather pleased with yourself at the spot you'd managed to find, laying on your back wedged in the stuffy space.

The door swings open and you will your heart to slow down. Surely he can hear it hammering from here? It's thumping loudly in your own ears, blood whooshing through your head.

The floorboards creak with each step he takes. When he falls to the ground suddenly, crawling on all fours, your thighs clench.

“Sweet-hearrrt…I know you’rrre herrre… can smell you…”

His sing-song tone, along with the growling purr of his voice had you biting your lip so hard you could taste tin.

You follow the shadow of his form through the slats, not daring to move, not daring to breathe. Suddenly his massive furred arm swipes under the bed, catching nothing but air. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle.

He goes entirely still, pressing his snout to the floor, and sniffs between the floorboards. You can see his nose twitching just above your head.

“Arrre you… in the crrrawlspace?”

He sounds impressed, finding the trap door only a second later. Light floods your hiding place as you try to wriggle your body away from him, but there's no room. In an instant he's got your ankles in his clutches as you shriek in protest, pulling you from the gap below.

In seconds he scoops you up and hurls you on the bed as if you weigh nothing at all, then jumps on top of you, pinning you down as the bed springs squeak dramatically.

“Cleverrr… but can't hide from mme…” He purrs, and leans closer to your ear, voice a deeper, threatening growl.

“I can smell yourrr cunt.”

You take a sharp inhale at his words. As if your pussy could understand him, you feel squelching wetness seep out, aching to be touched.

Eddie sits up, straddling you, and rips your apron and top in half as easily as tissue paper, exposing bare flesh. Greedily, he lathes his tongue from the nape of your neck down to your breasts, swirling it around each nipple leaving a trail of spit in its wake.

Your skin itches, flashing red hot, the throbbing between your legs becoming unbearable. You're whimpering, close to tears with the sheer need for him.

“Eddie, Eddie please.”

Wasting no time he climbs off the bed and yanks your jeans off in one go, not bothering to even unzip them, and does the same with his sweats. Standing fully to attention, his monstrous length looks painfully hard, throbbing purple.

You hook fingers into the waistband of your panties to take them off, but Eddie slaps your hand away, and leans down, hot breath dancing over the skin of your thighs. Sharp teeth graze your abdomen, not enough to cut your skin but enough to leave angry red marks in a pathway to your sex.

Then he's gripping your underwear in his teeth and ripping the flimsy lace off, leaving it in shreds. The feral gesture has you groaning out loud, thighs immediately opening to him. A thick tongue slivers through your folds, tasting you, until he presses a clawed finger to your opening, thrusting it inside with no warning.

“Fuck, that- that feels so good!”

Just like when he went down on you, that familiar rush of relief at his ministrations pours over you, nearly bringing you to tears. He moves up the bed, other arm holding him steady above your head so he can crowd your senses, intently watching your face as he fucks you with his finger.

He forces another finger in making you cry out, small hand gripping at his forearm to try and slow him down, but his movements are unrelenting.

“Eddie, too much, please-”

He growls, the sound making you clench even more around him as he curls his fingers, keeping them painfully deep inside.

“Have to. You need… to take me… prrrincess.”

You nod your understanding as you wince at the stretch, but the discomfort melts away as your release slinks up your spine, heat pooling in your belly making you moan and push back into his grip. His rough palm presses harshly into your clit, thick skin slipping against the silken nub.

“See… goood girrrrl.”

You clutch at his fur as your orgasm expels from your body, throwing your head back into the mattress as your cunt gushes around his grip violently. He purrs his satisfaction in your ear and pulls his fingers from you. Rubbing them over his pulsating shaft, he spreads your slick and holds his girth by the base.

“Eddie, I-I'm ready, I need you.”

Grunting at your words, he forces the swollen head into your soaked folds. Your eyes snap tightly shut as you cling desperately to muscle and fur. Seemingly unable to control himself, he thrusts his whole length straight into you, tilting his head back and roaring so loud that dust falls from the ceiling.

You're expecting blinding pain at the enormity of his length but it doesn't come. Instead, that first thrust pulls a second orgasm from you, one so profound that it fizzes through your every nerve and leaves spots in your vision. The blazing heat of your skin subsides as you throb around him, your prior discomfort melting away entirely. The same sureness that settled in your gut when you arrived is back. This is where you're supposed to be.

No words come from Eddie, just forceful thrusts and throaty noises as he fucks into you like an animal. He's on his hands and knees, one arm dipping into the small of your back, holding you firmly against him as he forcefully humps into you, using you. The slick sounds of your conjuncture echo through the cabin; all wet sucking noises, gravelly growls and high pitched moans.

Suddenly he snarls, teeth exposed, and grabs you by the hips, flinging you to the floor on your front. Your breath leaves you in shock, wooden boards rough against your naked skin. Yanking your ass in the air by the flesh of your hips he forces his throbbing member back inside, fucking into you so harshly that it's hard to stay upright. You're slipping forward with each piston of his hips, arms trembling with effort.

Eddie's panting, pools of drool gathering at the base of your neck, mixing and mingling with your sweat. A sharp pain cuts through all the pleasure, ripping into the meat of your shoulder, causing you to scream and tense up, pussy fluttering pathetically around him. It pushes you over that precipice once again, the hurt and the bliss intertwining into a mass of feeling, tangled and twisted, unable to exist without the other.

His member swells, growing impossibly, and a bulbous growth locks in you as he releases with a desperate broken howl. You feel the pumping of his cum deep inside, coating your trembling walls, claiming you.

A minute or so later he's collapsing to the side, pulling you close with his bearish arm, still firmly buried inside your cunt. Time seems to stop as you both pant, gasping for air, tangled in his furry embrace. As his breathing finally slows, he manages to purr one word in your ear.

“Mine.”

Part 2

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