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benjaminthewolf · 10 months

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Garcello Gives You Snuggles (Remastered)

The difference between this and the original is night and day, and I couldn't be more happier at my improvement.

****

The only two things your ears are able to detect in the present moment are both the ragged, labored, desperate huffing of your oxygen-depleted, withered lungs, as well as the overheating, cramping, constant, pounding of your poor, throbbing, shriveled little heart, as your all but entirely numbed feet continue aimlessly striking their force against the concrete of the filthy city sidewalk right below. With a form so utterly miniscule against the relatively gigantic world all around you, there could be no better display of cruel irony as to just how, exactly, your emotions had engulfed your being. Especially in the dead of night.

Vigorously forcing your body as such to do whatever it physically could to hold back your sight-submerging, stinging flood of minuscule tears, if for no other reason than your lungs’ momentary inability to handle the inevitably resulting gasping and wheezing, you were now all but rendered physically unable to continue in any direction but forwards, for the energy required to overcome your present inertia in said direction would prove simply far too much for your body to actually handle. Still, you carried on with your sprinting.

And then, just like that, your form was struck with the oxymoronic comforting shock from an equally as oxymoronic mysterious, yet familiar, teal glow. It didn’t matter in the slightest that you couldn’t detect rigid shapes for the moment, as all the information you already had was undeniably more than enough for you to piece together what was happening.

Your being instinctively swivels its current momentum, the wavering sparks of what could barely be described as hope for anything making use of its natural inertia to practically fling your poor form into the alleyway. Ignoring in its entirety the consequential pain of skidding against the rough asphalt seconds later, you instantly force your head up in order to confirm with absolute certainty your past assumptions about the teal glow.

Low and behold, there he is, and quite thankfully for your horridly gagging, strained lungs, you are not even forced to call his name in order to get his attention.

“Woah! Hey there, little one! I….didn’t know you were there!” the ethereal, wispy ghost form of the man only known as Garcello gently addresses your battered, jittering, scraped-up being whilst simultaneously attempting to carefully scoop it all up in his hands. As he does this, the one, single, little thing you can get your quavering self to do now is just cry. Now that your body didn’t have to focus on running, it could instead redirect all that energy to what it had previously held back for so long, and for that exact reason as well.

“Awww…. Hey now, hey now, it's perfectly okay for you to cry. I have absolutely no idea what’s happened to you, but you gotta be able to trust me when I say that whatever you experienced back there, it cannot hurt you right now. And that means it's safe to let it out.” Garcello softly explains to your torrentally sobbing, trembling being as he tenderly snuggles you against his dark teal abdomen.

You absolutely didn’t need to be told to keep crying to keep crying. Nonetheless, in essentially instant response to the tender, sympathetic, soothing words of the ghost, you promptly bury your face in his t-shirt and immediately unleash the, somehow, now even harsher flow of your tears into the soft, ghostly, thin, silky fabric. Garcello says absolutely nothing as you only continue to bawl. Neither of you had even the slightest clue as to just how long this scene lasted. Yet, upon your fierce wailing giving way to pained sniffling, Garcello still doesn’t dare to break the silence.

Eventually, however, you do remove your face from his abdomen. And that was when the words began to come. It wasn’t an elegant, nor a succinct explanation by any stretch of the imagination, but you couldn’t care less about that. All that you cared about was that someone was legitimately taking the time to let you incessantly ramble on about what exactly had happened to you, and was actually paying attention with intent of helping you recover from the experiences you’d revealed after the fact. Once again, the time it took for you to finish your rabid release could’ve been anywhere from five minutes to half an hour, neither of you had any way to know with any certainty. And, once again, Garcello remains completely and utterly silent as you just continue to rave about…well, pretty much everything you needed to rave about. It wasn’t until he was absolutely, positively sure you were finished that he finally took in a breath to start talking.

“First of all, I just want to say that you are very brave for telling me this. Ultimately, the only way that you can get proper help is to talk to someone about what you’ve gone through. And I guarantee you, there ARE people out there who can help. …professionally I mean. Ya know, like licensed therapists, and…obviously I’m not one of those, so… But yes, talking about all this is a very big step. I can see you’re already jittering a whole lot less because of it. Just letting out all your emotions verbally can be a huge factor in regaining control in these kinds of situations.”

Garcello takes a moment to pause as you continue your exhausted heaving.

“For right now, you just need to keep breathing. I don’t want to overwhelm you any further by diving into the nuance of what you’ve told me. Just breathe in and out. That’s it. I’ve got ahold of you. Nothing can hurt you right now. You’re safe.”

Your positively drained, depleted being proceeds to tremble only slightly as it softly wells up with more tears. A far less violent flow begins to stream its way out of your eyes as you once again bury yourself inside Garcello’s abdomen. The squishy, comfortable, warm flesh seems to somewhat wrap itself up around your being as you lean into it, whilst the places it couldn’t reach, such as your back, are gently caressed by the ghost’s delicate fingers. And that’s when you started to hear it.

The low-pitched, subtle grumbles tucked away behind many layers of ghostly flesh immediately grab your attention whilst the gears inside your head begin turning. Garcello is slightly confused at first, but upon you turning your head to the side just a little, in order to squish it into his midsection, he begins to understand your thought process as well.

“Do you…do you wanna go in there?” he eventually manages to ask.

All you would give in response was a vigorous flurry of nods, prompting the ghostly teal man to let out a short, friendly chuckle.

“Well, it is nice and warm in there! Makes a great resting spot I suppose!” he affirmingly speaks with a smile, whilst raising you up towards his face. “...and let’s be honest, you really need a good rest after all this…so yeah! You can stay in there for a while!”

You are now inches from the ghost’s mouth, waiting patiently for the reveal.

“...just let me know if my smoker breath is still there…I wouldn’t want ya to have to suffer from that because of me…” Garcello hesitantly requests as a great twinge begins to form across his face.

You briefly reassure Garcello that if he did still have smoker breath, you would’ve definitely picked it up by now. And since you smelled none, that meant it was certainly gone.

Garcello simply blushes just slightly in response, before swiftly thanking you for the reassurance. Now, there was only one more thing he had to do. And so, the unveiling commenced seconds later.

The mint blue colored chamber starts to flow upon your body its natural, soothing, calm, inviting warmth, something which eagerly prompts you to start crawling all the way past Garcello’s lips, and therefore have the comfort douse over the whole of your being.

Over his incisor teeth you went, as a result, before you finally squished a single palm down into the smooth, slickened form of his tongue. Eagerly, yet carefully, hauling the rest of your body onto the muscle soon after, you almost instantly collapse down upon its soft, warm, pillowy surface, before nuzzling your cheek deep into it, in order to show your deep gratitude unto the teal man outside.

Once the ghostly owner of the tongue is absolutely certain it was safe to close his maw, he slowly brings his lips together, thus sealing you out from the cold, whilst his jaws lying past them parted just about as far as they could. This was because Garcello knew that you were far too exhausted by now to make your way towards his open, tight, and squishy gullet. Because of this, he needed to elicit the aid of good ol’ gravity in order to get you down to his gut.

You are soon able to sense the ghost’s tongue lifting up rather slowly and gingerly. You therefore give the muscle a slight pat to let him know you’re okay before it starts to slope down, and towards Garcello’s now gaping laryngopharynx.

The plump, rounded form of his uvula gently sways back and forth above the drop whilst you start to slide down the slick tongue. Gradually slipping downwards and towards Garcello’s ghostly throat, it isn’t very long before your form becomes lodged nice and tightly against his tonsils, whilst you start to gaze down into his trachea. Garcello’s slightly wavering vocal cords are then naturally covered up by the epiglottis as you are promptly squeezed into his esophagus. It takes one more gulp before your lower legs and feet slip all the way through the upper esophageal sphincter, but once this is accomplished at last, Garcello heaves out a slight sigh, before placing a couple fingers over the slight bulge in his throat. Now, his ghostly body would handle the rest.

Casually floating over and towards the side of the alleyway as a result, Garcello sets himself down rather cautiously, not wanting the force of the motion to disturb your own journey within, before curling his ghost tail over his middle. Accompanying his ghost tail with both hands before the slight bulge in his throat disappears behind his collarbone, Garcello thus gives a slight smile. You on the inside were soon to pick up a soft heartbeat, and when you did, you would know you were close.

Back on the inside, meanwhile, the warm, squishy squelchings of peristalsis from the throat muscles are able to massage your poor body as they continue to escort you on down. Sure enough, however, you did indeed pick up rather soon an ethereal, ghostly replication of a heartbeat, though the fact of it not being from a living source did little to make a meaningful difference. The wondrous, continual kneading pushes you deeper and deeper towards Garcello’s stomach as the heartbeat pounds gently within the ambient background of the ghost’s internal body.

Eventually though, there was to be far more joining along with the baseline beat of the heart as both high-pitched and low-pitched gurgles and grumbles begin to echo about the awaiting chamber just below. With the lower esophageal sphincter coming into your sight seconds later, you are gently squelched out from the natural valve head-first, before at last, the rest of your body follows through, and you take the deep plunge down below.

Promptly rising up from the harmless liquids sloshing around within Garcello’s warm, churning stomach, touching your feet down upon the very bottom of the shallow pool as you did, you then proceed to give a rather visceral full-body shake in utterly cathartic release of pent-up tension. And then, immediately after, in use of ol’ reliable once more, your utterly exhausted being flops directly onto the pillowy walls as your eyelids droop down and close your eyes.

Garcello on the outside is able to feel all this happening within his gut, and yet, decides not to interrupt you for the moment, as you did need to rest rather desperately. Slowly rubbing his hands all over his middle for a while, Garcello can sense you shifting around just a little deep within, presumably so you could find a more suitable sleeping position. For you down below within the walls, it wouldn’t take very long for you to fully accomplish this task.

Heaving out a gigantic yawn, you subtly nuzzle your head into the squishy, cushiony, heated form of the stomach walls as the gently sloshing liquids around you calmly envelop the lower half of your being. Slipping deeper and deeper into unconsciousness as the soft gut’s natural heat drags you further and further into comfort, the very last thing you could sense before finally falling asleep was, indeed, the constant white noise all around you. The gurgling, growling, and groaning of the stomach of the ghost who had saved you tonight.

Garcello on the outside only lets out a soft sigh of contentment as he senses you settling down against the squishy walls of his stomach.

“Goodnight, little one…” he whispers very quietly, as he himself begins closing his eyes very slowly. It would not be very long then, before the both of you were softly slumbering away in silent peace; both of Garcello’s hands against his rumbling stomach housing your tiny form deep within.

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benjaminthewolfnsfw · 10 months

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A Sugary Snack (Remastered)

....sooooo this fic definitely needed to be remastered. Not because I was unhappy with the quality of writing of the original...but because in the original the prey was a wild, non-sapient Sugarbat and yeah...I think that might just cross one line too many.

So, I made the prey a Sugarbat borrower hybrid instead! Enjoy!

Oh, and just for clarification, "Portal Master" is the Skylands term for Human.

WARNING: FATAL VORE, GOOEY DIGESTION

****

Being a Borrower-Subarbat hybrid, life was generally pretty good. You got to enjoy all the benefits that resulted from the Sugarbats’ kind and cuddly reputation, (as well as their ability to fly), whilst simultaneously benefiting from the fact that as a borrower, you possessed a level of sapience that full Sugarbats just didn’t have. This essentially meant that you could experience the best of both worlds to their fullest, which was an opportunity you had taken and flewn away with over the years.

Your flight, a coveted ability which most other Borrowers and even Borrower-Hybrids didn’t have, ensured that you could practically go anywhere you wished at any time. Your diet of disease-spreading bugs earned you a near-heroic reputation in many of the villages you often frequented. And perhaps most importantly of all, your soft, fluffy Sugarbat body allowed for headpats and tummy rubs galore. You loved receiving them, and people loved giving them. You loved everybody, and everybody loved you. This was the Sugarbat way of life, and thus, it was yours as well.

Due to all this, then, upon sensing that some sort of tall, lean, green troll was climbing up the tree you were currently resting in whilst gazing up at you intently, (although slightly hesitantly), you didn’t really think you had reason to be alarmed.

The troll eventually makes his way up to the branch that you’re on, before slowly and shakily extending his arm. You promptly respond to this by gently nuzzling your head against his hand before his fingers cautiously slip around your being, gently grasping ahold of you as a result. The troll then starts to direct his gaze downwards, eventually making eye contact with a tiny, bald midget portal master standing rather impatiently on the ground. He then goes on to swiftly glance downwards towards his feet before precariously releasing his grip on the branch he had been previously gripping onto and maintaining his balance with. Once he has managed to do this without immediately falling out of the tree, he tenderly places his other hand on your head, covering up both your ears as a result, before rubbing all around it nice and slowly. This, of course, causes you to let out a rather pleased stream of high-pitched squeaking noises as he did.

Finally, he opens up his mouth to speak before re-establishing eye contact with the portal master standing right below. However, as your ears are currently being covered up whilst you’re constantly making high-pitched squeaking noises, you don't end up understanding a word that he’s saying. If you could understand, however, you would hear something like this.

“UH, LORD KAOS, I THINK I GOT IT NOW!”

“THEN GET DOWN FROM THERE, YOU FOOL! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, I’M STARVING OVER HERE!”

“-Y-YES LORD KAOS, RIGHT AWAY, SIR!”

The troll promptly takes his hand off your head before, as carefully and yet as swiftly as he could, proceeding to climb down the tree, placed at a major disadvantage since he could currently only use one hand to keep his grip. He still needed to hold onto you, after all. Inevitably, this unfortunate combination of circumstances would cause him to lose his balance. Since he was already almost at the bottom at this point, though, the impact didn’t really hurt him too much aside from knocking the wind out of him for a while. Despite all this, he had still somehow managed to keep his hold on you. You can’t really help but slightly tilt your head to the side in slight concern at this scene.

“Took you long enough…” the portal master grumbles under his breath as he walks up to the troll on the floor and places his own fingers around your upper body. The troll immediately lets go and simply focuses on regaining his breath for the moment, as the portal master takes a few steps away from the poor creature whilst silently staring you down. It was at this point where you really began to get confused.

“Ugh, you Sugarbats are still too sickly sweet for my liking…” the portal master begins to groan to himself as your already pretty confused face now begins to grow slightly concerned. “… but I’m still really hungry! So, in you go!”

Immediately snapping your head up in a bout of instantaneous, undistilled, body-jostling horror which rendered your form completely and utterly paralyzed for the moment being, you suddenly let out a terrified “EEP!” sound as the realization at last began to settle in. The portal master towering above you steadily brings you closer and closer towards his twisted face. It was only when his slimy, slick, smooth purple tongue momentarily exited his mouth to give a rather wet lick across his chops did you realize that your fate had already been sealed.

Upon the relative giant finally unveiling his maw, the saliva-soaked, goopy purple chamber within promptly stretches just about as wide as it could feasibly go in order to fit all of your being within its confines at once. His mildly sharpened, glistening, white fangs brazenly gleaned their brilliant shine back at you as the portal master himself maneuvered you around in his two hands for a while until they were holding you in a cupping motion; this in order to insure he wouldn’t accidentally bite down onto any of his fingers whilst shoving you into his maw.

The portal master goes on to waste absolutely zero time before doing exactly that, shoving his cupped hands up against his face in order to cram you inside past his jaws. His tongue, now that you are mostly underneath it, swiftly flings you up and back towards the middle of the chamber before the portal master’s lips close up, whilst still leaving open his jaws. He then slurps up your tail that had been previously dangling outside like a noodle, and finally, firmly snaps together both jaws, sealing you away, permanently within him, yet momentarily within his maw, as a result.

The portal master’s glossy, soft, moist tongue proceeds to slide itself out from underneath you, before longingly caressing your being with a slow, warm lick across your head. It then proceeds to move in, out, up, down, and around the whole of your body, positively slathering your middle, back, wings, tail, and all, with his saliva. The compounding natural warmth within the maw acts as yet another thing that is constantly soaking up into your being, simultaneously.

Eventually, the portal master goes on to slide his tongue back into place under your form, before using it to swish you between his cheeks for a while, the sensation of your waterlogged, soggy fur brushing against the slick walls of his cheek causing a pleasured shudder to run its way down the midget’s spine. This would go on for Eon knows how long, before the portal master slowly raises up the back of his tongue, in order to get your soaked being to slide back and towards the entrance of his throat, the gullet opening wide as the great, plump, dangling purple uvula gently sways back and forth above your head.

At this point, it had become all but certain in your mind just what was about to happen next, but as the portal master’s tongue proceeds to shove you deeper and deeper into his gullet, it somehow grew more and more impossible for you to get yourself to move, and therefore resist and escape.

Eventually, you are able to see the epiglottis covering up the entrance to the trachea, as the portal master swallows you whole. He somehow manages to squeeze your small, furry being down into his esophagus all at once, and down towards his stomach as a result. He, himself, however, does not seem to be surprised by this fact in the least.

The portal master immediately let out an excessively satisfied sigh before placing a few fingers over the great bulge you were making in his throat, poking and prodding at it in a teasing manner, all the while you on the inside only continued your long, grueling journey downwards and towards his now empty stomach.

At this point, the troll that had first brought you out of your tree had managed to get back up on his feet. He merely glanced over at his portal master…master with a slight sigh and a head nod before just simply being forced to watch it happen as the man sat himself himself down against the very same tree and placed a hand over his rumbling, growling gut, patiently lying in wait for its oncoming meal to be delivered right into it.

Back on the inside of the throat, you had, understandably, begun totally freaking out, squirming and thrashing around within the tight tunnel to quite a considerable degree. Ultimately though, this was all just simply in vain, as no matter how much you pushed and shoved against the slimy, purple walls of the esophagus, the seconds ticking down all around you, you only seemed to be getting squeezed deeper, the rhythmically squelching walls pulsing around your poor being as you continued on squeaking desperately, practically begging the portal master on the outside to let you go free. Quite unfortunately for you, however, this request was absolutely, positively, not going to be granted by the now hazily drooling man lounging casually against your own tree. His fingers began to gently drum over his stomach in a tranquil air of contentedness, as you on the inside are now able to pick up his heartbeat.

The deep, booming thumping emulating from deep inside of his chest would be absolutely nothing, in terms of audio noise, compared to the relatively high pitched grumbling and gurgling noises echoing around within the portal master’s still empty stomach which you were able to detect just a few seconds later, however. As, upon realizing what, exactly, this meant for you, your utterly futile cries and struggles only proceeded to grow stronger.

When at last you reached the lower esophageal sphincter, the slick, narrow entryway gently squeezed you out into his growling, shifting, tightened purple stomach, the heated, growling organ expanding just slightly upon sensing your newfound, sudden presence, picking up its churning and rumbling even more whilst the acids began to trickle in.

The portal master on the outside could feel his formerly empty, growling gut positively filling up with your form, the sensation of your heavy, squirming, helpless Sugarbat being fighting desperately for your very life within the hopeless, compact, slimy confines of his stomach chamber being all but heavenly for him, causing him to start slowly rubbing his hand over his stomach in absolutely nothing but pure bliss as a result.

You on the inside were now beginning to feel the stinging of the acids seeping through all your formerly soft and fluffy pelt, now horrifically soaked and soggy with saliva and gastric juices, causing you to start squeaking despairingly in pain, as the slick, purple walls of the stomach repeatedly expand and contract, sloshing and swirling the acids all around your poor being whilst your many fur and skin layers only continue to cruelly melt away. Dissolving all the way down into a thick, oozy, viscous, mucky goop, your tiny, Sugarbat body is only ever able to keep on flailing helplessly up until the very end, never, ever, ever to see the light of the moon anymore.

Now with no more resistance to worry about, the organ only ramps up its sloshing even further, gurgling and shifting about in order to churn up what once was your living body into a nutritious soup of gooey mush, one that would only be mashed up into chime and pumped through the portal master’s intestines, destined in the end to build up into a permanent part of the man’s body after all was said and done.

Soon, your being had become so incredibly pulpy, that its former Sugarbat outline was at last beginning to drip off and swirl away, many large chunks of mush breaking away from each other and sinking deep into the swishing pool of acids before dissolving down even more, at last being mashed up and churned about into a homogenous pool of soupy chime. Now, you were nothing more than a bunch of cellular slush, and the portal master’s body treated you as such, your liquified former body casually flowing on down into the beginnings of the man’s small intestine, as the pylorus opened up seconds later.

The portal master on the outside proceeded to give his satisfied, growling stomach a few pats and many more rubs as a small amount of air that had been previously trapped inside his stomach was suddenly brought up inside his throat, and released all at once in a great, deep belch, one that caused the poor, green troll standing solemnly next to the man to just sigh.

He didn’t know when his master would get back up. It could be in a few minutes, it could be in a few hours. All the troll knew was that, at the very least, now that his hunger was satisfied, there would be no need to try and appease the midget portal master by scrambling around sporadically in the kitchen doing what little was possible to whip up a satisfactory meal for him anymore. The last time this was attempted was…disastrous, we’ll just say that.

As such, as the portal master’s loud, rumbling guts continued to make work of the sloshy remains of the once living Sugarbat that had just recently entered into it, the troll could only stand back and silently hope he would never have to fall out of a tree in order to get a meal for his master ever again.

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amisunderstoodgoddess · 6 months

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The Hunt

(final part here)

Rating: Explicit +18

Summary: When the creature you fear so much manages to escape containment, will he show you any mercy or take you without any regret?

Author's note: I intend to make this story with just two chapters. This is the first, the second will soon be available. Hope you like it!

English is not my first language.

'ALERT: Specimen 375-6 is out of containment.

It's not training. All search and capture units were activated.

ALERT: Specimen 375-6 out of containment.'

You swallow hard as you read the warning message on your phone, the words falling over your body like a truck of bricks.

He had escaped.

The creature you knew and didn't know.

It was yet another top-secret government item, another non-human biological material captured and kept for research.

He stands out from the others, of course.

With his height, intimidating physique, and obvious intelligence, but you never actually approached his cell, only catching brief glimpses from afar as you did your job collecting and saving data from the scientists' research in the system.

But you always felt something strange in the rare moments you needed to approach the cell block he was in.

He kept to the back, using the shadows to stay hidden. And yet there was one thing that caught your attention, regardless of how dark the place was.

His eyes.

Two orange spheres, standing out like beacons in the night.

He remained basically the same every time you entered that part of the building. Sitting on the floor with his legs half bent and his wrists firmly restrained by chains resting on his knees, you couldn't make out the color of his scaly skin or his features in general, but the color of those eyes shone like neon lights in the darkness of the cell.

He looked at you, every time.

It was disturbingly intense. There were no blinking eyelids or shifting gazes, he stared at you with unwavering focus from the moment you entered the lab until the moment you left. His eyes…they shone with intelligence and superiority. Like he's just there because he wants to be there, not because he was captured. He owned everything he laid eyes on. The rational part of your brain screamed, 'Look away! Run away!' but those eyes seemed to want to capture your soul with each encounter.

All your co-workers had noticed the strange fixation that the creature seemed to have on you, but you always denied it, diverting the subject while saying it was just their imagination.

Deep down you knew it wasn't.

You saw the way his unsettling gaze settled on your form, felt the shiver run down your spine at his gaze and yet - even now, you could still feel that warm buzz inside at the memory of his burning gaze locked on you.

You could admit that it wasn't healthy to feel any level of curiosity towards a murderous monster who was obsessed with you. It was scary.

Your only consolation was that he was tightly contained with the best technologies the government could dispose of.

But he always seemed very calm to you, as if he were above all that. In a confident and almost arrogant way, in the way that only people who have a coldly calculated plan are.

Now he was free.

And you had a horrible feeling that you knew exactly who he was going after.

You quickly walk down the street towards your house. Your heart beats fast, the gentle breeze brushes your warm skin and your loose hair. The canopy of trees above and the few lights along the main path cast their shadow in the opposite direction as you walk faster and faster.

At the end of the street, your eyes notice movement, something large and slow, moving behind a row of parked cars. It's not completely unusual for pedestrians to be out so late - after all, you're here, right? - but your stomach drops a little, very consciously. Something instinctive warning you that it is smart to be afraid.

By the time your trajectory takes you past the line of dark vehicles, the street is once again empty and you allow the hairs on the back of your neck to rise with relief. It was probably just some insomniac suburbanite, taking out the trash or smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk.

Rows of closed windows stare at you blankly as you pass by, colonial houses with sagging porches and overgrown backyards, the residents of the peaceful neighborhood sleeping soundly within the comfort of their homes.

A noise breaks the silence: a loud, prolonged rumble, followed by an inhuman whine, an undeniably animal sound.

There's a single lamp behind you that puts an enormous silhouette into sharp relief, but you can still easily see his solid, dangerous structure.

Your knees threaten to give way, your throat burns as you try to take a deep breath, fear leaves you numb and clumsy in exactly the least desired way at the moment. You don't think, not really, you just act. Getting to the house across the street is like running a marathon, and raising your fists to knock on the door, swing the doorknob, requires a huge effort against the adrenaline that makes your hands shake uncontrollably. "Please help me!", your voice is hoarse, your throat is tight, it's not loud enough, no matter how much you want to scream - it's like you're trapped in a nightmare where no one can hear your screams for help. "Let me in, please, I-"

The door swings open under the weight of your fists, and you almost fall to your knees at the abrupt movement. You don't have time to think, to weigh whether this would be the smartest choice compared to the others, you don't know if he's clinging to your back or if there's still a safe distance between the two of you -

You just enter.

---

The realization of the terrible mistake you made dawns on you in the space of a few minutes of panting breaths.

The living room is empty, strangely enough, not that you really have time to think about it. A staircase appears in your field of vision, and your panicked animal brain sends you toward it, taking two steps at a time, crossing a long landing and climbing to a second floor, holding on to the railing like a wooden board salvation. "Someone please!" You manage to scream, "Please, someone! I'm being followed, call the police!"

The police couldn't help you, and if you were thinking clearly you would know that. No one, not even the army, could help you against this thing.

Yet there is no voice responding, no shuffling human movement, no clicking light. And then you see the paint cans, the tarp, the door off its hinges and against the opposite wall.

This house is under construction.

Nobody. No lights. Without help.

Spinning on your heel, you stagger back toward the stairs. But there is no more time. The door you left ajar in your moment of despair lets in a pale beam of moonlight through the unfinished wooden floor of the foyer, and you watch in mute horror as a shape fills it - huge, so tall that he has to lower his head past the doorframe, a brick wall of an alien assassin wearing a metallic mask. The soulless black holes of the visor, poor excuses for eyes, stare back at you.

Alone, in an empty and unfamiliar house. Your heart pounds in your chest, bile rising in your throat - you're trapped.

You know it. And he knows it too.

The creature walks with slow and determined steps towards the end of the stairs. You briefly, wildly consider waiting until he reaches the landing and then throwing yourself off the balcony. You can survive.

The thought makes you feel like a panicked rat, chewing on its own leg to get out of the trap.

Of course there's also the possibility that you'll break every bone in your body and die from sheer stupidity - which may be preferable to death by those sharp claws on his massive hands, but at least the latter you'll be able to escape. If you can keep your wits and your legs under you, you might be able to outwit the Predator. Evade the trap.

You almost want to laugh at your own delusions of salvation.

Your unsteady feet drag back without your eyes leaving him, but with every slow step you take back he takes one towards the stairs. The silver rays of the moon bathing his reptilian-looking skin, highlighting his entire body dyed in a singular tone of obsidian, with some lighter variations on the abdomen and in some internal points. Thick, long tendrils of 'hair' flow around the mask and over his broad shoulders, adorned with gold and silver metal beads. One of his hands - oh, huge and with long, sharp black claws - seems to want to reach out towards you, but the creature holds back for some reason, preferring to continue with the strange war of glances.

It seems that in his escape from the laboratory he recovered some of his things: in addition to the mask, he wore the wrist gauntlets, the net that covered his body, the strange piece of cloth wrapped around his hips decorated with bones and skulls, and the metallic protectors on the shins. The metallic chestplate and combi-stick weren't visible, you can't tell if he managed to recover it or not.

Regardless, he was infinitely more frightening now that you can see him outside of containment; big and broad, a solid wall of defined muscles. But it was his posture that unnerved you. The roll of his shoulders, the tension in his arms. The almost imperceptible flex of his calf muscles, as if he was preparing to jump - just waiting for a movement from you to attack.

He reaches out, this time to his own face, grabbing the metal there. Air pressure is released when the metal mask is removed.

You hold your breath.

His face was lighter than the rest of his body, a slightly grayish tone with some black streaks mixing with the dreadlock-like hair on his head, a few black barbs framing the sides of his face and along his elongated forehead. There were, of course, those flaming eyes you already knew. Instead of lips, he had four folded jaws with long teeth at the tip of each of them. Inside those jaws, you could see more of his teeth, smaller but more numerous and frighteningly sharp.

He moved his jaws as he climbed the stairs with purposeful slowness, his massive size making the stairs creak, strange clicks and rumbles emerging from his mouth.

You gasped in response to his face, shaky and scared, your backward steps continuing until your back hit the wall.

End of the line.

If you ran you would have to turn your back on him, and you couldn't do that. Never turn your back on a predator, everyone knew this rule.

It was as if you were in a horror movie or a nightmare, where you could only watch without any reaction as the monster approached. The predatory way he approached awakened the primitive instinct to flee, but your legs were shaking too much for that.

You pushed yourself further against the wall, even though there was no longer any space. It looked like he wouldn't stop walking, that he would simply knock you into the wall, but at the last second he pinned you against him and ice-cold wood at your back.

The air was knocked from you, hands flat against his chest instinctively as a way to get some distance. Even under the net, his skin was clearly much warmer and firmer than your own, smooth in some places and textured in others, the latter matching the gray patterns that spread across his extremities. He smelled mostly of moss and damp, like a forest after rain. But there was also a muffled current of pheromones, a slightly peppery scent that hit you like a tsunami.

In fact now that you felt it, it felt heavier and heavier by the second, as if he was exhaling on purpose. With each inhale, that smell seemed to make you a little more relaxed, a little more dizzy.

It took a few seconds for you to realize that he was even closer, hovering above you, his breath hot and wet, stirring your strands of hair. A gasp left your throat as his sharp jaws dove down, digging his nose or whatever it was into your hair to press into your neck - though you didn't know if that sound had been out of terror or something else. All you knew was that when he backed away, another low, animalistic growl resonated from deep in his chest, long and continuous and it took you a few awkward seconds to realize he was...purring? Purring like a cat? It was bizarre, but your own body began to uncoil, as if some force tied behind you sternum had pulled your back with him.

Your breathing is now labored for what seems like an entirely different reason. You can increasingly smell that intoxicating scent in the air and that, plus the mesmerizing purr, is making your eyes roll back slightly, a blurry haze taking over your thoughts. You can feel his sharp claws as they dig into your shirt and you, in turn, can't control the shudder in your body in response.

His scent is doing something to you, something that definitely shouldn't be happening. There's an overwhelming pressure blooming in your core, the beginnings of a dull ache that makes you clench your thighs to ease the tension. The saliva in your mouth comes down with difficulty as you swallow and lick your lips, stretching your neck to look into his eyes - god, you could barely reach the line below his chest with your head. What's happening with you? He is not human, he is not human. This is wrong.

"..." His jaws click and move, strange sounds fill the room with deep growls and hisses; he was talking, but you couldn't understand him. His eyes roam your face as he speaks his strange language, and his thumb gently wipes away a tear you hadn't even noticed falling from your eye.

You open your mouth to question, to scream for help, to beg for mercy, for anything...but nothing comes out.

His breath is hot as he bends his body until he's almost face to face with you, all predatory expression and clicking jaws, almost drooling on your skin. And then, as he forcing the words out of his depths, he says, “Mate.” He declares to you, slowly and gravely in a way that no human sound could ever be, but a little more understandable now.

You look at him in shock, not expecting a deep, English word to come out of his alien mouth. His inhuman eyes are bright enough that you clearly see the orange flames in the dim light of the night, slashed down the center with black, almost feline pupils that threaten to drag you inside.

Mate.

What the hell?

You blink slowly, the low rumble persisting as he purrs under your attention and you can tell he's trying very hard to appear less threatening to you. You bite your lip against a hysterical and completely untimely laugh that wants to escape, the tension of fear finally channeling into something different (something manic and traumatized) when he presses his broad forehead to yours in a frighteningly intimate gesture, tilting his head even further to rub your cheeks with those sharp jaws, snorting into your hair and sniffing at your neck.

The drag of the deadly fangs against your skin is exhilarating, in the worst way and you fear what is to come, a very animal and very instinctive part rooted in the most unconscious corner of your being, knows exactly what this creature is wanting from you. And the worst part, the most disturbing and embarrassing part of this realization, is that you don't know if you want to resist. Not with the way his scent and purrs are making your legs shaky and your mind fuzzy.

You're shaking, but it's not just from fear and perhaps the creature knows this, because he pulls back a little until he looks into your eyes - something very carnal and very primal vibrating almost visibly beneath that reptilian skin.

He slowly looks away from yours to fiddle with something on his wrist, and you feel like you can breathe once again without the oppressive weight of the orange orbs on you. He clicks the object on his arm for a few moments and then pulls a small metal disk out of it. It's no bigger than a small cell phone chip, and he balanced it on his fingertips.

Curious, you lean in a little. You just want to take a look at what he's doing; but before you even know what's happening, the giant puts his hand around your throat and pulls you towards him. You scream at the hostile action and try to fight him, but of course it's no use. With his strong hand, he can easily subdue you and move your head to the side, pressing the metal thing against the skin just behind your ear in a quick, burning blow.

You don't have time to react, much less to understand how he did that at that speed.

You just feel the effect.

It burns, like you're being branded, and you scream. Your whole head hurts, and for a second you wonder if he hit you against the wall in the process. It's a wrong and distorted feeling, like someone is tuning a radio inside your head, you hear screams and white noise echoing inside; so loud that you have to cover your ears with your hands, but that does little to decrease to the cacophony inside your mind.

When the alien releases you, you kneel on the ground, still writhing in discomfort and pain from the chaos in your head – and then, suddenly, everything stops. You're panting, your fingers covering your ears and your head between your knees, but when the noise quiets, you slowly look up. And although you are dizzy and a little disoriented, the presence of the creature hovering ominously above you is clear.

“W-what was that?” you mumble between quick breaths. "What the hell did you do to me!?"

The alien blinks slowly and tilts his head, jaws clicking before he responds. "Now we can talk."

Your eyes widen at the strange sound (but fluid and articulate, very different from just a few minutes ago), your stomach tightens and you pull your knees closer to your chest. “W-what?”

“It’s a translator,” he says. His voice is still very dark and booming, but his growls and clicks have somehow turned into words you can understand. “This allows your little ooman brain to understand my language.”

You swallow hard and feel the blood drain from your body. He was scary when you couldn't understand him, but he was even scarier when he could talk.

“Get up, little ooman,” he murmurs. “We should get to my ship. I don’t want to spend any more time on this miserable planet.”

You can't believe what you're hearing, everything is happening so fast. With shaky legs, you gape at him. “I…I don’t understand.”

The moment is interrupted by something when the alien turns his head towards the window of the house, the various dreads tubes rattling with the movement and his jaws opening in a low trill while a long, forked tongue at the tip comes out of his deadly-looking mouth. You gasp at the sight, but he doesn't look at you, using his own body in front of yours, as if he was instinctively hiding and protecting you from something you cannot see, feel or hear. The burgundy appendage is long and glistens with the moisture of his alien saliva, along its length there are some quivers and small barbs. He slowly waves the thing in the air, almost as if he's proving something. And then you understand.

He's smelling it.

Maybe he's even more snake-like than you thought, after all, catching scent particles in the air with his tongue.

The air is positively thick with eager anticipation, he's alert and ready and you feel it.

You don't have time to think about it too much, though. Because soon he is looking at you again, although there is no longer any sign of malice and hunger in his posture now. The way he lifts his colossal body until he's completely erect, swelling the already prominent muscles to appear more menacing, only speaks of a creature with a purpose.

"Oomans here. They must have some kind of tracker." He growls once more and clicks that gauntlet again, making you jerk back with a new wave of fear.

"Y-yes, all the containment units are after you now. It's only a matter of time before they find you and try to arrest you again. Y-you should go." You respond quietly and slowly, trying to make him understand every word.

"My ship is nearby." He grumbles sullenly. You try to control the wave of curiosity that the word 'ship' evokes in you. Seriously, how many humans have had the opportunity to see one up close? But of course you don't say anything, if you got out of this situation with your life it would be good enough. You would forget about this bizarre encounter and go on with your peaceful and boring life as if you had received the greatest gift of all.

But then he continues.

“You…” He covers your body with his once again, cornering you against the wall. Your eyes widen as he wraps a thick arm around your waist, pulling you into him. "You belong to me now, ooman. You'll come along."

You feel like you didn't get it right. “T-to space?”

He doesn't seem to want to entertain this conversation anymore and just grunts again.

It's like all the red flags go up in your mind at once.

"N-no! No, I can't, that's...I can't!"

But he doesn't listen to you, and you can't predict the sharp sting on your neck. It doesn't hurt like it used to, but he cradles your head with huge fingers almost tenderly as a sickening sensation wracks your body and makes you stagger. You feel weak, your body giving out as you babble out things that even you don't understand. Everything is getting dark and your little fingers are scratching his arms looking for support, your breathing is coming with difficulty and your eyes are unfocused.

"It's okay, mate, just give in...I'll take care of you..." He purrs, but you can barely hear him, your senses are fuzzy and lethargic and you know you're going to pass out.

The last thing you see before the darkness swallows you and the unknown can wrap its tentacles around you, are orange flames above you. Hot, consuming and scary.

And then there is nothing but emptiness.

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sophiethewitch1 · 1 month

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Sparring sessions with Damian would be the worst. He's constantly mocking you, trying to make you lose your edge. And he's quick too, dancing around any punches or kicks you throw. Even when it's obvious you won't win the spar, he still doesn't take you down. He'll let you keep going. Keep struggling till you're a sweaty and exhausted mess.

That's when he'll pounce. Pins you down to the sparring mats, his body straddling yours. You try to buck him off. He just thrusts his hips back down into yours. The bulge in his sweats pressing against you has the fight in you disappearing like smoke. You look up at him, confused, and he merely smirks back down at you.

"Not going to tap out?"

You do, hand tapping the training mat, even as you stare into his emerald green eyes. You don't think you could look away even if you tried.

"Hm, but I think I've earned my reward, don't you?"

It doesn't really matter what your answer is, does it? He likes it when you struggle, after all.

#yandere batfam #damian wayne x reader #first thing in the morning but i read yuns new post an #it was inspiring #tw nsft #tw dubcon #tw noncon #damian has a predator/prey kink and i will not be silenced #so does tim. and jay. and dick too if you piss him off #okay so I have a predator/prey kink but that means nothing alright

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zestys-stuff · 3 months

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A little pov of Ralak checking you out from across the bonfire 🔥

Unholy… unholy thoughts behind those eyes

#ralak x f!reader #check it ouuuut #our warrior is plotting #big sea beast #picking his prey #digital art #na’vi oc #na’vi art #metkayina #he may be quiet but #those blue eyes speak for him #and it’s naughty 😈

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msgexymunson · 4 months

Text

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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starlightdelrey · 5 months

Text

𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐜.𝐬

𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲-𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

coriolanus snow x district!reader (use of y/n)

829 words

cw: predator/prey power imbalance, coryo's on the brink of evil, disregard of injuries, chasing, description of injuries, dubcon (kissing)

mostly PG rated

song match: oblivion by grimes

BEING ALONE WITH your boyfriend was a luxury you could barely afford. it seems the only time you two could truly revel in each other's company is in the privacy of the woods - yes, you knew being alone with a boy in the woods was not the smartest decision, but coryo was different.

he was capitol born, turned peacekeeper - and just about the cutest guy you ever saw. you still had no idea how you managed to catch his attention, and keep it, but no matter how hard you begged he never indulged you in why.

maybe he liked knowing he had the upper hand.

you sat against a tree now, letting your frayed skirt splay out on the dirt, digging your feet into a pile of leaves. your head was tilted up, staring up at the sky, and the sun bathed your face in a barely-there golden sheen.

you were so content sitting in the forest that you didn't hear coryo creeping up on you. as he slinked around the tree, prepared to scare you, you're still unaware of his presence.

the feeling of lips on yours causes every nerve in your body to short-circuit, and you gasp, eyes shooting open. you come face to face with a pair of blue eyes, crinkled around the corners in silent laughter.

you pull away, pouting. your hand is on your chest and your hair is wild. "coryo, that is not funny. i just about died!"

he settles down next to you, calming his laughter. "you're so dramatic."

"whatever."

at this, he furrows his brows. he leans in, kissing your cheek, before moving to your ear. "m'sorry, y/n." he kisses your ear, before pulling at your chin and forcing you to look at him. "you forgive me?"

you roll your eyes, before fighting a smile. "i guess."

and he pulls you into a kiss.

you're enjoying the kiss so much that when he gives you the command, you barely register it. you continue to hold the back of his neck (you've seen photos of him with his longer hair, and although you love his buzzed hair, you can't wait to see him with it grown out) before pulling away in confusion. "what?"

"i said 'run'." he whispers against you. you groan, a tired sigh escaping you.

"this again? coryo, can't we just stay here?"

he tugs on your long hair in response, before tickling your sides. "c'mon baby. one round. for me?"

you make a show of getting up and brushing the dirt off your clothes, sighing. "fine. but i get a ten second head start."

"whatever you want, baby."

you lean forward and wait for permission to run.

"and... go! ten, nine..." his voice fades as you shoot off, sprinting out into the woods. your happy your feet are bare, as it makes for less noise and helps you remain nimble.

your blessing is being fast, but your curse is low-endurance - you gain a lot of ground, but soon your breathing is shallow, and your steps slowed.

"y/n!" hearing coryo call for you helps with adrenaline, allowing you to sprint for a few seconds before slowing again. you decide the best thing to do would be to hide, and you look around for a good hiding spot.

a couple hundred feet away is a human-sized bush, and you make to run towards it. as you're running, however, a heavy weight sails into you, knocking you straight onto the ground.

"umph," your knees are skinned by the twigs and your head aches from the impact on the ground. you lift your head, a throbbing feeling immediately arising. you touch your forehead and find a tiny smear of blood, and you groan. before you can get up, the same weight comes down on you, gentler this time.

the material of his uniform rubbing against the torn flesh on your knee burns and you cry out, and coryo takes the opportunity to kiss you.

"got you." he whispers, eyes dark.

"yeah and hurt me in the process." you grumble, but let him revel in his victory.

"lemme see, babe." you show him your knees and forehead, and he offers a kiss on your right knee, but rolls his eyes. "it's barely a scratch."

he pins you down again, kissing you, but the pain in your head is too much to endure. you push him off in pain and annoyance, and he grabs your hand and forces it to the ground. "m'not done yet."

your heart drops. you can barely get him off you and your alone together, where no one could hear you screaming-

"alright babe, i gotta get back to work. you want me to walk you home?"

you nod numbly as coriolanus gets off of you, pulling you to your feet and kissing your head. "i love you."

"...i love you too." you glance up at him with wide eyes and can't help but notice his are still dark.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #dark!coriolanus snow #tbosas #tbosbas #tom blyth #buzzcutcoriolanus #starlightdelrey #predator prey #coryo snow #young president snow #tbosas x reader #hunger games x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow

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incorrectquotesmcu · 4 months

Text

Yelena: What the hell is up with this bow and arrow shit?

Y/N: IT'S NOT A FUCKING BOW AND ARROW. It's a crossbow! I'm not twelve!

Kate: HEY!

Y/N: No offense, Katniss.

Yelena: I love this one. They've got rage issues.

Y/N: [getting in her face] I DON'T HAVE RAGE ISSUES!

#source: birds of prey #yelena belova #yelena belova incorrect quotes #black widow #kate bishop #kate bishop incorrect quotes #hawkeye #avengers x reader #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel #avengers #avengers incorrect quotes

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probablyspooky · 1 year

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Strength (Feral Predator x Fem! Reader)

Story based on this post I made

I'm going crazy

Trigger warning : Abuse, swearing, nsfw, white men

Pain, all you knew was pain, this was the main feeling you had in your life, and it didn't matter if you wanted to stop it, you couldn't, this is a life you were born into. A life of servitude, you were born in the servants quarters of a wealthy hunter, your mother was beaten for even dare having a child when she didn't even own the bed she slept upon, your master was so kind to let you grow up into adulthood, so gracious to let you eat his food.

Despite this, life was still not easy, you often went without food, often beaten for simple mistakes such as spilling water. Despite this your master often talked to his fellow hunter men about how kind he was for letting you grow up under his wing, and considering this, he allowed you to go to America with him on a hunting trip. (I think in 1719 it was called the new world, but I'm not 100% sure, I'm a pastry chef not a historian, don't come for my neck).

And just like that you were shipped away on a large ship, away from everything you've ever known, saying goodbye to the fellow maids who took care of you, and saying goodbye to your mother, who as distraught at the fact her only child was possibly never going to return home.

The first couple weeks were filled with awful waves, sea sickness, and insanity. Those who could not handle the sea were thrown overboard, this was the life of a servant, you were property, not your own person.

Landing in the New World was a sight to behold, trees as thick as a sailors beard, plants you have never seen before, it was all wonderful, but you weren't there to sight see, you were there to carry backs and weapons as you continued your travels deeper into the lands. For weeks your feet ached, walking across the harsh ground with shoes that barely covered the bottom of your feet, often being dehydrated, often fainting from hunger. Your master would have ended you then and there, but he was running low on servants to carry his items, you guys eventually settling in the Great Plains, as the bison were plentiful, and their pelts would turn a pretty penny back home.

You were told to set up the campsite for your master, and that you did, taking the long sticks and forcing them into the ground, setting up the tarp covering, and then his bed, the rest were in trunks, you simply placed them around like furniture. By the time you were done it was night time, your mastered returned, stroking his disgusting beard, he struck you across the face with the back of his hand.

"You putrid thing! You haven't cooked dinner yet have you?", he shouted, stomping over to his bed.

The strike had landed you in the dirt, quickly getting on your knees you looked down at your dirty skirt, not looking up at him, a sign of submission.

"Stupid woman...." he grumbled, taking a sip from the tankard in his hand, the clear smell of ale tainting his breath, the man was clearly drunk.

Suddenly, his eye lit up, and he rose, grabbing you by the collar, and dragged you into the center of the camp, where all the other hunters were cheering, having a grand old time drinking.

"Hey boys!", he shouted, "I have an idea..."

You struggled against the rope tied around your neck, the rough fibers rubbed against your skin, the burning sensation forming from your struggles, tears stinging your eyes as your master tied the other end of the rope to a ram.

The sounds of the sickening laughter coming from these drunk bastards, sending the shiver of fear and dread throughout your body as your master slapped the rams behind, causing it to bleat out in fear and run into the woods. You looked in horror as the slack of the rope began to drag away, like a sickening timer to your doom, soon the rope stiffened in the air, and there you went. Dirt and debris from you trying to grab onto anything with a free hand, as your other hand held on to the rope, trying not to suffocate yourself as the ram kept going, the burns on your neck growing deeper and deeper, you kept screaming out for help, hoping anyone or anything would come to your rescue, it seemed like the ram had infinite stamina, the end was no where in sight.

You soon had a dark thought, and felt your grip on the rope loosening, hoping for a quick death, but as soon as the rope tightened around your neck, the rope snapped, stopping the dragging of your body.

Quickly sitting up, trying to catch your breath, drool falling out of your mouth as you looked at the ground, your eyes red from crying, feeling the uninterrupted courses of air purify your body, you looked at the rope, trying to see why it had snapped. Your eyes grazed over the rope on the forest floor, seeing it go on and on, following the rope to its end you saw a some sort of circular knife, if you could call it that, it was much too large for your hands, and it was very heavy, the metals it was made of wasn't anything you had seen before. Trying to pick it up was in vain, as it was not budging from its spot.

Your fingers grazed over the blades, thinking, while your other hand felt the rope against your neck, leaning down you used the sharp blade to snap the rope from your neck, cutting your neck in the process.

Once the rope was off of your neck, you felt the sensitive red spot that now circled your entire neck, surely to leave an awful scar, a memory of these awful events that have transpired today.

The crack of thunder, and the soft droplets of rain that fell through the leaves snapped you out of your thoughts, as you began to scurry to find shelter, you defiantly did not wish to go back to camp, you'd rather die out here than return to that man.

You walked as far as your sore feet could take you, eventually you looked up to see a cave at the side of a mountain, it looked a bit out of the way, so hopefully no predators would be inside

Climbing the harsh rocks to reach the opening, your hands were sore, your legs were about to give out from under you. The feeling of pouring rain seemed to drag you down, but you pushed through it all, reaching the cave, you found yourself protected from the rain, falling into the cave, as a crack of lightning illuminated the cave, you swore you saw something.

Standing on your unsteady feet, you wandered deeper into the cave, tripping and falling into some sort of pit in the ground, it wasn't deep, it was soft, as if lined with blankets, you felt it with your hands, the feeling of tiredness overtaking you, you laid your head into the soft plush ground, your eyes growing heavy, and you drifted off into sleep.

At the entrance of the cave, a beast who stood on his feet like man, glistening in the rain, as his alien camouflage device was unable to function in the rain, the red ripples of it giving up shown through the rain, eventually turning off as he entered his den.

Taking a large step into the den he called his own on this trip, he sniffed the air, something was present. Using his helmet of bone, he scanned the area, looking down at his nest of furs and pelts, seeing your small sleeping frame, he knelt down, pulling his blade out, the same style of blade that had cut your rope earlier, but all its blades were contained within the small metal circle, the clicks of his mandibles echoed off the walls of the cave, shaking his hand the blades swooshed out, and he raised it up as it to slit your throat, but he stopped.

Returning the blades to its holder, and placed the weapon back to his belt, taking his large finger, he grazed the rope burn that was evident on your neck. Tilting his head while you slept, he stood back up, leaving you in his nest, he sat at the entrance of his cave, waiting for the rain to stop.

As the morning sunlight shined through the fresh dew drops of the last nights rain, the warmth of the sun warmed your skin, as you rose up out of what you thought was a pit, the light now showed to you it was in fact a nest of pelts and furs, and now with the sun illuminating the whole cave, your eyes gazed around.

The cave was decorated in the skulls of many animals, a small fire, and in the corner sat rotting meat, the unfavorable scraps of the animals that had been hunted before. Your eyes continued to wander, they landed on a pile of large weapons, fear began to take over your body once more, thinking you had entered another hunters home you stood up to leave, looking towards the entrance of the cave, you saw it.

It stood over 7 feet tall, it's skin tanned red, speckled with spots, thin strands of its dreads spilled out the back of its head, cascading down its back, it's face covered with some sort of mask, it seemed to be made of bone.

Freezing in your place you stared at it, upon closer inspecting, it wore a loin cloth, you assumed it to be a male whatever it was, and watching the slow breaths from his chest, you assumed him to be asleep.

Slowly you began to creep out of the cave, trying not to wake up the beast, you tip toed through the rocks, safety looking so close, until you heard a low rumble, a low growl.

Turning your head, you saw he had woken up, his mandibles moved, clicking at you, his large face looking down on you.

You took a step back, and he took one towards you, this continued for a bit until you took a bad step, there was no more ground to support your weight, you began to fall back, your arms flailed in the air, you closed your eyes bracing for a pain that never came.

The feeling of a strong arm around your waist replaced the feeling of air rushing past you. Peeking your eyes open, the beasts face was inches from yours, he had caught you with his arm.

A blush formed across your face, as he pulled you back onto stable ground. He moved his arm away, and took a step back, kneeling down so that his eyes were at level with yours.

You stared at him intently, noticing his strong build, his large frame, and his large muscular feet and legs.

"T-thank you....", you stuttered, not taking your eyes off of him.

The sound of clicks continued to sound from him, he rose his hand up, and seemed to touch the side of his mask, you could hear some sort of weird sound come from it, it confused you.

"Y-you are...welcome..." the beast said, turning his head at you.

"You can talk?", you said, shock still in your voice.

He turned his head in the other direction, raising his hand and tapping his helmet with his finger, indicating it was letting him talk to her.

With that same finger, it left his helmet and reached towards your neck, you reeled back in fear. Causing him to stop in shock, and hesitate.

"Do...not worry..."he grumbled, moving his hand some more.

You watched with one eye open, still weary of him, his finger reached closer, and he used it to turn your chin to look back at him, and it slid down your chin to your neck, tracing the rope burn.

"Who....did this....to you...?"

You sighed in dispare.

"My master did....", you whimpered, sadness was showing its way through your face.

"Master....? You...own one...another...?" he asked, taking his hand back, getting closer still kneeling down, using his hands to move over.

"Some...own others...and others like me, are born to serve," you said, bringing your own hands up to your rope burn.

"That...is not right...Why do you...not fight back...?"

"I-I can't fight..."

"I will show you", of course that came out clearly.

With that he stood at his full height, and held his hand out to you. You looked at him, and at his hand, slowly putting your small one into his, A purr came from his chest, as he picked you up onto his back, and then slid down the side of the cliff, as it was nothing to him.

On his back, he began to walk you into the forest, taking you to a clearing and setting you down. He walked out a bit farther than you, pulling a large spear off his back, he twirled it in the air in an intimidating fashion. Holding it straight ahead of him, it extended and sharp blades came out of the ends on both sides.

For the next couple of weeks, he taught you how to use the weapon, teaching you the motions, how to strike, and how to defend yourself. He also showed you how to hunt, how to trap, and how to skin an animal. He told you these are very necessary if you were going to live in the wilderness.

You happily learned from him, taking time to listen to him very closely, every word he said, every motion he made, every strike, you made sure to absorb all of it.

You sat at the entrance of the cave, watching the fire crackle under that days kill, the smell of meat filling the cave.

"Tomorrow you will learn hand to hand fighting," it seemed the more he spoke to you, the clearer his words became.

"Hand to hand...?" you looked at him, as he sat on the other side of the fire, he stared off into the forest.

"To defend yourself from them," he stated, pointing his hands into the forest, his finger directing your eyes over the tree line, cross the large lake, you could see the small flickers of fire from a camp, most likely the people who brought you here.

You agreed, taking the meat off the fire and taking small bites.

"Where are you from?," you asked, looking at him, the heat of the fire making your face warm, yep the fire nothing else you little sicko.

He turned his large head to look at you, almost as if he could smile he would, his mandibles extended and clicked together as he looked towards the stars.

"I come from a place called Yautja Prime..." he started, speaking of his home life. You sat and listened to him long after the fire had died down.

The next morning started as usual, you ate breakfast, and he carried you to the training spot.

When you arrived he kneeled in front of you, his hand reached up removing his helmet, the first time you would have been seeing his face, his golden eyes looking into yours, yet you did not flinch at all, you felt something but you did not know what yet. His mandibles clicked, and he tilted his head, not expecting your reaction. Putting his mask back up and put a bit of space between the two of you.

He turned to you and spoke.

"Hit me."

"What?!"

"Hit. Me."

Slowly you began to walk up to him, and then a walk turned into a run, you clenched your fist, and went to hit him, never making contact with him, his large hand grabbed your first and raised it above your head, he threw you to the ground.

"Again."

So you tried again, this time going at him from the left, the same outcome, this went on for an hour, your grew frustrated, clearly the two of you were far too different in size and strength.

You sat on the ground, upset with yourself, he knelt down next to you.

"Again?", he asked, looking at you,

"I can't hit you...you're too strong..." you said under your breath,

"Perhaps, I have been too hard, I will allow you to hit me, I will take the full hit."

"Really?"

He turned his head in the other direction, as a sign saying, "Go ahead"

But you were feeling something in your chest, when he turned his head, you placed a kiss against the side of his face, causing him to startle, he turned to you quickly, and then you clocked him in the face.

He growled for a second, and looked at you, and lunged at you, grabbing you from under your butt, and lifted you into the air.

"Good job, you have outsmarted me" he purred.

You just stared at him in awe like you do quite often, a red flush going across your face as he lifted you up effortlessly.

"You're...strong.." you said, looking down at him

"I am very strong...you are very small..."he chuckled, looking up at you.

"Much stronger than me" you smiled, looking around the trees at this new height

"I could...show you my true strength..." he purred at you.

You gulp, and look down at him.

"Your...real strength...go ahead..." your eyes are wide, wondering what his display will be to you.

"Then I shall..." he said with a huff, placing his hand on your stomach pushing you up, and then his other, raising you far above his head, and then removing one hand, "Show you my whole strength"

You stared in awe, as he held you above his head with a single hand, no sign of weakness, you began to laugh.

"Oh my! " you called out, not noticing someone was staring at you with passion and care in his eyes.

"Do you...wish to mate?" he asked, seriousness in his voice

"WHAT?" you gasped, wiggling on his hand, causing him to lose his balance of you, causing you to slip out of his hand, and fall towards the ground below.

Once again, the pain of the ground never hit your body, just the comforting touch of his hands around your body filling that space.

You looked at him, your eyes not straying away from his face, your face redder than an apple.

"Well...?" he asked, standing you back on your feet, awaiting your answer.

Standing there you began to fidget with your fingers, looking at your feet, you began to play this scene in your head many times before speaking from the heart.

"I...do..." you whispered, hearing the sound of him coming closer, kneeling down and looking at you from below.

"Then you will be mine?" he asked, his fingers grazed your face.

You nodded in agreement, and whoosh, you were pulled close to his chest, hearing his excited heart rate. You stood between his knees, you pulled back a bit, and placed your hands on his face, of course you would kiss him, if he had lips. You settled for placing one on his head. A happy purr emanating from his chest, as he pulled you into am embrace.

"Mine..." he said in a low purr,

It seemed like the two of you stood there forever, just the two of you alone in that clearing, until he suddenly stood up, placing a protective hand ahead of you, as his face scanned the bush line.

"What's wrong..?" you asked, looking up at him

He didn't respond, he eyes snapped to a certain area, and soon a large bear walked out, sniffing the ground, clearly following the scent of something it wanted.

It looked up, sniffing the air in your direction, letting out a roar, it began walking closer.

Sure all your training was good, but this was a bear, and you in fact were not the size of a bear.

He stood between you in the bear, as the bear began to charge. It leapt up, throwing itself into his arms. He quickly punched it in the face, as the bear clawed at his back, grabbing the bears sides, he threw it back on the ground. Standing up straight he took a stance, the bear shook off the blow of hitting the ground, and charged once again, speeding up, it was closer to him, but he quickly side stepped, and punched it in the side of the head, immediately knocking the bear to the ground with a sickening crack.

You looked, shock all over your face as he picked up the bear with his arms, and held it above his head, he let out a roar of victory, and threw it back to the ground, turning his attention back to you.

"Are you alright...?" he asked, kneeling.

"You just....punched a bear...to death...it was one punch..." you stammered,

"I told you I was strong," he chuckled.

"Yeah but, I didn't believe you could even," you shook an open hand towards the dead bear.

"Does that surprise you...?" he said, a smirk would be across his face (IF HE HAD LIPS), a bit of tease in his voice

"You told me to hit you, as if I could ever beat you."

"Yes, but why does that matter?"

"I could never beat you..."

"Why is that?" he scooted closer to you.

"You're clearly stronger," you looked at him, confused as to why he was teasing you, now seeing he was now kneeling over you, like me hovering over that sweet deep dish pizza.

Before you knew it he lunged at you, his face in the crook of your neck, a growl emanating from his chest, you knew what was to happen next, and you were fine with it.

You were fine with his clawed hand going down your body, his sharp claw ripping your only clothing off of your body. He took off his mask and tossed it to the side.

He opened his mouth, and his long tongue slithered out, sliding between your breasts, as he moved the soft spot of his hand over your nipple, feeling it between his fingers.

You let out a soft moan, watching him untie the loin cloth from the back of himself. Letting it drop between you, and showing all of himself to you.

You could feel your body change in excitement as the sight of that going into you made you wetter, he quickly turned you over onto your hands and knees, and you felt the tip of himself touch your slick.

Slowly, he eased his way into you, feeling his chest press against your back, his hands by yours, his tongue sliding on the back of your neck, he began to thrust all of his length into you.

You fell to the ground, crying out in pleasure as all of him slipped into you, he growled in pleasure, moving his hips again, and again, and again. The sounds of your skins slapping one another seemed to echo through the forest. You were crying on the ground, in a state of pure ecstasy.

Moving positions, he slid a hand under your stomach, and pulled you up, now on his knees, he gripped your hips, and moved you up and down against his length, he growled in pleasure, feeling your soft walls around all of him.

You could feel his claws press into you ever so tightly, even while on his lap, he was still much taller than you, you looked up to see him staring directly at you, taking one of his hands he gripped one of your breasts, continuing to pump himself into you, your juices mixing and creating a small pool between the two of you on the ground.

He looked to the sky, and let out a roar of pleasure once more, quickening his pace, gripping your breast tighter as his movement began to get rougher, the hand on your hip moved to your front, as he began to rub your clit, causing you to throw your head back into his chest, his tongue slipping down from his mouth, as he arched his back, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

Your body was flushed red, and you moaned as the two tongue swirled together, feeling the pool of pleasure build up in your stomach.

"I'm...I'm..." you cried,

His hand grabbed your hips again roughly, he began to slam into you harder, this sent you over the edge, causing you to climax, it shot out of you onto his legs, and he roared once again.

Taking in the scent of it all, his primal side came over, he threw you down onto the ground again, not breaking away from you, he began to rapidly thrust into you over and over, causing you to cry out, he began to roar, as his body began to shake, his climax rippling over him as he filled you up.

That night, the two of you laid in his nest, a fur over your body as you no longer had any clothing. He was okay with that, as at home it was not uncommon for others to walk bare.

His large hand traced your sleeping face, as he looked at the claw marks across your body.

He was going to cut his hunting trip early, as he had found his prize.

#predator x reader #yautja #yautja x reader #predator #feral predator #feral predator x reader #prey x reader

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jack-the-nibbler · 1 year

Text

Valentine’s Tea

A belated oneshot where Jack spends time with you in a rather...unconventional way on Valentine’s Day.

“Well, luv, I promised the perfect afternoon tea for you, didn’t I? You seemed to enjoy your little treats…I only think it’s fair for me to indulge now.”

All you could do was stare up at Jack from your position on his plate, hanging onto every word he said. You had gladly accepted his invitation after work, and he’d been nothing but a gentleman. The chocolates and treats practically melted in your mouth, and the tea was the perfect temperature and sweetness…and had been laced with a shrinking potion, condemning you to end up in the same position as a cream puff.

You watched Jack grab a spoon and drop two cubes of sugar into his cup and stir them around. He still looked rather cute, especially in this attire-a coat and top hat the color of dark chocolate, deep pink waistcoat and bowtie, heart-patterned dress shirt, and small roses pinned to his lapel and hat band. But that sly, hungry smile on his face put you off. You’d only been dating Jack for a little while, and though he was sweet, there was an air of danger around him. Surely he wouldn’t hurt you though…right?

Jack took a few long sips of tea, heaving a delighted sigh. His stomach gave a low growl as the drink settled. It almost felt like his stomach was beckoning to you…or were you just tense? Your unease didn’t go unnoticed. With utmost care, he took you in his hand and lifted you up to face level.

“Darling, there’s no need to be afraid,” Jack cooed. “Perhaps I could soothe you with a few kisses. Might that help?” Before you could respond, you were moved terrifyingly close to his mouth…which you’d eventually end up inside. Those soft lips moved in and pressed against your middle with a soft “mwah”. It tickled quite a bit!

Jack chuckled before planting another kiss, then another, and another. His fingers kept you from squirming free as his plush lips tickled you. You laughed and pushed against Jack’s face, having to endure the onslaught of smooches. Your fears had mostly dissipated…at least until one kiss turned into a lick.

“Shhh, darling…just relax. I’ll take care of you.” He whispered. Jack’s tone, soft as silk, was enough to ease you again. His warm tongue slid up along your front, lingering on your face. You felt each taste bud squishing against you, savoring you, painting you in a layer of saliva. With every lap of his plush tongue, Jack purred fondly at your flavor.

You were soon placed back down, but not for long. Jack took a small dish of melted chocolate and drizzled it over you. The sweet fluid thankfully wasn’t hot, but it did stick to you. You looked up at your boyfriend, watching him lick his lips and reach for a fork.

“I did say I prepared a shiny fork and knife just for you too, yes? Luckily for you, I’m not putting the knife to use.” He said. You did scoot back as the tines drew close, praying that Jack wouldn’t think to spear you. Thankfully he only scooped you up, slowly bringing you back to his lips.

Jack opened his mouth, his warm, clean breath washing over you. He gave you a moment to admire the view-his white teeth, pink tongue, and dark entrance to his esophagus. You were so entranced, you barely noticed him sliding you inside. As the fork pulled away, leaving you on Jack’s tongue, the reality of the situation set back in.

“W-Wait!” You cried, but it was too late. Jack shut his mouth, sealing you in darkness and leaving you at the mercy of his tongue. The soft muscle slipped and squished around you, suckling up the chocolate from your form. His soft hums vibrated around you, saliva clinging to you as the chocolate melted away.

After a minute or two of tasting, Jack’s tongue nudged you towards the back of his throat. Your feet slid over the edge, down into the tunnel of flesh. Trying to pull yourself up would be pointless-the surface was simply too slippery. You gasped as you slipped in, watching the throat open below you. In a single, small glk, you were sent on your way to your boyfriend’s tummy.

The walls of Jack’s gullet were slick and soft, the peristalsis steadily squeezing you downward. It was tight, but not crushing, feeling more like an odd full-body massage. An additional pressure was placed on you, the surrounding muscles pulsing with a hum. You realized that Jack was pressing a finger against you-feeling you travel down his esophagus. He panted softly, licking remnants of your taste from his lips as you slid past his collarbone.

After what felt like hours of being squeezed downwards, you fell from the end of the gullet and landed in a fleshy pouch. Jack’s stomach. Almost immediately, it started to churn and pulse around you, trying to determine the size of its new occupant. It briefly contracted as a small belch escaped his mouth.

“Ah, pardon me! My belly is just so happy to have you, luv!” Jack remarked. “You truly are an exquisite treat, my dear…here, allow me to give you a warm little bath.” You tilted your head, then heard gulping you above. Seconds later, you were doused in a cupful of Darjeeling tea. You sputtered as it poured from the sphincter above, filling the stomach up to your waist with the fragrant drink.

You sighed, having no choice but to lay back within the artist’s belly. You were still a bit nervous, yes, but it really was nice and warm. The fleshy walls were just as soft as his tongue, gently gurgling around you. It shouldn’t have felt so nice…especially as Jack carefully pressed down on his belly, rubbing you within himself.

“Mmmh~...Happy Valentine’s Day, luv. I hope you’re cozy, because I’ll be keeping you for a good while.” He cooed. Jack tenderly pressed on you again as he got up, rocking you within as he went to sit in his favorite chair. You sighed, settling into the bath of tea. One hell of a Valentine’s Day gift…oh well. You did feel strangely loved, tucked away inside your boyfriend. Perhaps this wouldn’t be the last time he showed his affection this way…

#romantic vore #safe vore #soft vore #nonfatal vore #vore writing #male pred #identity v vore #foodplay #pov vore #prey pov #reader prey #semi willing prey #willing pred

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ghouljams · 9 months

Note

I'm wheezing thinking of Konig hunting leibling around the house. Like a cat sitting in the shadows doing the little wiggle before pouncing and shes just used to it so much that she keeps on with whatever she's doing ahhh. Could we maybe get some fluff after him being so scary? Maybe him trying to do some nesting and Liebling's like it's not gonna happen stawhp.

You're hardly seen König all day. You know he's in the house only because you didn't hear the door open. You frown at the kettle on the stove, ears straining to try and hear him. You shiver a little, scratching the back of your neck. You can feel him watching you, or you can feel something watching you and you assume it's König. You dread to think what else it could be. You shake your head and go to grab your tea from the pantry.

You stumble over something, catching yourself before you fall on your face. You look back to see König's long fluffy tail drag itself back into the shadows between the wall and the fridge. You do your best not to think about how he squeezed himself back there, and tamp down the desire to go and check out whether it's actually him back there. It'll just unnerve you to see his eyes glowing from the shadows.

You finish preparing your tea and go to sit on the couch. You narrow your eyes at the suspicious lack of throw blankets. Usually you have them tucked in every corner so they're easily accessible. Now they're not even folded in their little basket. You check the basket, keeping your mug held close to your chest. Empty. You let out an annoyed hum.

Stubbornness wins over curiosity and you sit on the couch, tucking your feet under you. You grab the remote to turn the TV on and catch a glimpse of König looming behind you in the screen's reflection. You turn quickly, your heart pounding at the sudden glimpse of his claws and spines, but he's not there. You look back at the TV, the reflection of the room empty save for you. You turn it on and squeeze yourself into a ball against the corner of the couch. You hate when he does this.

The volume is low, your ears straining to listen, your eyes watching the screen's reflection, your hair on end waiting for the next glimpse of your hunter. You don't even try to relax, hands gripping the warmth of your mug like a lifeline. At the first commercial break you set your mug on the coffee table, not willing to scald yourself if König jumps you. There's a quiet clicking behind you, you turn quickly to watch König's tail disappear into the bedroom. Occupied for now.

You lose yourself in a shitty cop show for a while, knowing König will grab you when he wants to. The detectives are just wrapping up their interrogation when you hear a soft purring by the arm of the couch. When you turn to look König is watching you, just peaking over the edge of the couch, his eyes wide and pupils blown to the edges of his irises. His tail whips and swishes behind him, his spines laid flat, you don't trust the nonthreatening display for a second.

"Wollen wir heute früh ins Bett gehen?" His voice is so rough in this form, more growling than human speech. You blink at him and turn off the TV, already anticipating the way his hands grab you and lift as he stands. You bite down the smile that threatens to spill, something giddy welling up in your chest whenever he lifts you.

König drops you on your bed, and you are engulfed by blankets, nearly smothered by pillows. You look around the --you think the implications of this word are dangerous-- nest he's built as König climbs on the bed after you. You hold your arms out to him, still inspecting his masterful work and he eagerly presses himself into your arms. His face nuzzling against your chest with a satisfied purr as he curls up in the nest.

"The throws have to go back to the couch," You tell König, carding your fingers through his hair. He purrs louder, his arms wrapping tighter around you. You wonder what's gotten into him.

#realized you said fluff like halfway through #and had to switch real fast off the predator/prey shit I was writing #König does this all the time and Liebling is like “please I have anxiety this doesn't help”#um...*sweating* I know what's gotten into him #also lmao I feel like liebling read a/b/o fic in high school and is trying not to laugh at König's nesting behavior #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #König x you #König fluff #x reader #oc: liebling

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benjaminthewolf · 10 months

Text

Wolven Storm (Remastered)

Been giving some old stories remasters recently. "Prey saved from elements" is still one of my favorite tropes.

****

Your bitter, icy, ragged breath shakily shudders in and out of your frigid, frost-glazed lungs, as your cornea-searing, visceral, salty tears begin to rapidly freeze over your face. The Snowy Isles had, indeed, been known to get undoubtedly horrendous blizzards around this time of the year, but they had never, ever, EVER been THIS bad before!

Hesitantly risking opening your eyes after a couple of seconds just shivering, (there was, after all, a very real possibility that doing so could cause your poor, rawed, positively depleted eyes to become frozen solid instantly) you are, in fact, only greeted with what you had ultimately gone into the perilous commitment expecting, at the furthest end of it all. White. Pure white. Nowhere, no one, nothing. Just white.

Your stunted, frail, meager, jittering body did what little it could at this point to keep itself vitally chugging along in spite of everything within current reality. You had practically, yet staggeredly, buried yourself underneath the snow in keeping to this instinctive task, reasoning that at least because you were mostly out of the wind, you could ignore the windchill to some degree. Still, with the many frozen layers currently rubbing against your stiffening being and paralyzing its skin to the touch, you only knew, upon a visceral twinge of your heart, that unless you were discovered soon, your heart would be doomed to slow ‘till it stopped, just as the hands of time would cease to turn their hands around your poor being.

As your decidedly non-conscious body risks an utterly heat-and-energy-sapping shiver, you can feel yourself beginning to lose consciousness. One, final tear finds the resolve it desperately needs to roll all the way down your scrunched-up cheek and into the snow, for you now knew that, as all the available evidence made it blaringly obvious in your mind, you were never to regain consciousness again.

****

To be entirely honest, I wasn’t exactly able to see much through the brutally whitened, blistering storm myself, either.

I could, however, smell. And because of that, I could track. And, because of THAT, I could most certainly tell that someone had passed this way by before me, although their footsteps had obviously been covered up by the ever-layering, brutal nature of the snow. No civilization at all existed anywhere even near this blistering area, as it was just a huge nature preserve, and at this stage of the horrid storm, if anyone that was not adapted to the cold like I was just so happened to have gotten trapped within its unforgiving, freezing suspension, their chances for survival were indeed, all but none.

That, you see, is exactly why I had chosen to come here, and it did now seem to be the case that my searching had not been in vain.

Only your head was still visible above the snow, (as much as anything was visible at all in these conditions), but that was all that I needed to be able to check if I wasn’t already too late. Thoroughly sniffing over your form with my powerful wolf nose, (which was actually just about as big as your head, surprisingly enough), I am not able to detect any of the distinctive whiffs of rigor mortis or decomposition upon it, and, after gently placing an ear up to your relatively small, frigid neck, a pulse is just barely audible. It had slowed to a near fatal level at this point, however, and the clock was ticking quite fast.

As a result of my examinations, I knew the only option now was to get you somewhere warm. And I also knew, quite well, as a matter of fact, that the only two places I had at my current disposal that could accomplish that feat you so needed, was, indeed, my maw, and, far more practically, my stomach.

Steadily unveiling onto your unconscious being, my pink, slimy, smooth, yet heated tongue, I allow a few heaves from my lungs to brush some warm air onto your body before I begin to stroke the hot muscle all across your numbed form, getting it positively soaked in my warm, sticky, and thus preparing you for your lengthy journey up ahead.

The moment your being is doused thoroughly within my fluids, I gently dig you out from the compounding feet of layered snow you are trapped beneath, before carefully maneuvering my lower mandible underneath you, and gently lifting you up into my maw. The snow I inevitably end up scooping in alongside you almost instantly melts from the heat, as front after front of warm air is brushed up onto your being. At last, I lock my jaws tight around you, not daring to allow even the most miniscule sliver of cold breach inside. Now, you are safe in my maw.

I proceed to gently wrap my cushiony tongue around your form, so the sensation of physically touching a warm object could help your rigid skin slowly recover. I swish you around between my cheeks for a while, before eventually unwrapping the slick, smooth muscle from your being, and slipping the thing underneath you, so that you may be gently pushed towards the back of the maw, and into my wide open gullet as such.

The top of your head gently brushes against my uvula as you are carefully lodged into my gullet. Tilting my head back slightly as I initiate the tight swallow, I am able as such to feel your being getting squeezed deep into my esophagus; a natural, small bulge swiftly forming inside my throat as I do.

Your currently limp, unconscious body has absolutely zero ability to resist as you are rhythmically kneaded and squelched down by the cushiony walls of the throat.With each pulse shoving you further and further into my form, more and more heat gradually replaces the horrid brutal, freezing cold that had once gravely threatened your body. Now, however, you were safe, and as your body reaches the lower esophageal sphincter, you are gently squeezed out into my stomach, the gurgling, churning organ expanding and contracting its walls all around you as the warm, harmless liquids continue to splash and slosh their heat upon your unmoving being.

Your head now lying comfortably against the squishy, flexible walls, I casually let out a satisfied sigh as I am able to feel your form settling down within my guts. Now, I had to bring you back to civilization. And thus, forwards, within the blinding, stiffening, brutal, vicious storm I must go.

****

The very first thing you were able to detect upon regaining a slight bit of consciousness was the deep, echoing pounding of my heartbeat, a baseline which was swiftly followed up by the gurgling and growling constant melody of the churning stomach around you, as you begin to shuffle about within your current state of conscious being.

Slowly opening your eyes in order to confirm you weren’t dead, your gaze naturally picks up the soft, shifting, pink walls of the organ around you, though at this point you didn’t exactly know you were in an organ, much less a stomach, specifically. You lightly brush a hand against the slick, goopy walls. You steadily heave in and out a breath of air. It all seemed too real to be some sort of near-death experience hallucination. And it was right then and there that the reality of the situation set in. You now knew you were alive, and the storm had not, in fact, killed you like you were so sure it would’ve back there in the snow.

You weren’t exactly sure how you had ended up here, or what this place even was, but, for the time being, that really did not matter at all. All that did matter was that you were alive, and would therefore live to grace civilization once again. You give a couple of gentle pats onto the warm, snug chamber, before laying your head back down, and snuggling yourself deep into the walls.

I, on the outside, could sense all this happening in real time, but I chose not to speak up for the moment being. You had already gone through enough already. The initial instinctive panic you would inevitably experience over hearing that you were currently inside of a stomach was most certainly not something I wanted to put you through at this point.

Thus, as all four of my padded wolf paws continued to make print after print within the rapidly gathering, blinding snow, I could only give a subtle smile to myself, knowing that my humble search today had, indeed, saved a life.

#soft vore #vore writing #vore stories #vore story #safe vore #male pred #male predador #furry pred #gt vore #unaware prey #unaware vore #protection vore #protective vore #wholesome vore #endosoma #extreme cuddling #pov vore #reader prey

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benjaminthewolfnsfw · 11 months

Text

Nightmare Of An Irish Snack

A vore story for @luci-voracious-blog with another inspiration source which I am sure many will recognize.

(Twilight's nightmare by Feedfancier)

But yeah, YIPPIE! MORE ARAN RYAN VORE LET'S GO!

****

Your position within the space around you, as well as the nature of the space itself, was instantaneously jolted into a form far different than you had been experiencing up until that point. Your body jostling around aimlessly in the air before finally succumbing to gravity left you exceedingly dizzy and disoriented, causing you to murmur some rather displeased gibberish and cough a few times as you disgruntledly peeled your face off the floor. Only for the rest of your being to instinctively and immediately, jolt itself the rest of the way up, causing you to frantically scramble back up onto your two feet, holding your arms behind you as you did in order to catch yourself just in case you stumbled.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! LET’S GO! LET’S GO!”

Towering above, yet still before, your miniscule, frail, tiny body, hunching over your petrified form with nothing more than a twisted, demented, toothy grin on his face, taking up the bulk of the unidentified, enigmatic blackened space you currently occupied, there he was. In all of his deranged, unhinged, utterly derailed, yet most importantly of all, one hundred percent, pure, undistilled Irishness, there could be absolutely no mistake. This was Aran Ryan, in all of his blood curdling glory.

Aran proceeds to grow his horrific grin wider as he silently stares you down, presenting effortlessly onto your gaze his two, glistening, sharpened, arrays of whitened teeth, the cause of its unrelenting shine being revealed soon after, as trailing down the corners of his mouth like slimy waterfalls, were two trickling lines of saliva.

“Ya know…” Aran finally speaks up in a controlled, yet powerful tone, whilst extending a hand out to snatch you right off of the ground. “Back in me home country of Ireland, we made Tinies one of our most beloved national foods!

With your brain now lurching itself into fight, flight, or freeze mode, you subconsciously ended up choosing freeze.

Thus, it became rather trivial for Aran to grab you and lift you up to eye-level. Chuckling out an irregular, erratic flow of maniacal laughter, Aran Ryan finally moves you just a little ways away from his face, before finally unveiling his maw.

Before you even had a single chance to screech out or give a yelp, Aran had uncurled his fingers around your body just slightly before giving his wrist a slight flick and sending you hurtling straight into his gaping, slimy, pinkish maw as a result.

Landing with a splattering flop down onto the middle of the tongue, Aran immediately snaps his jaws shut in order to prevent any possibility of escape. This causes a rattling echo to reverberate around the sealed chamber, whilst simultaneously snapping your frozen, stiff, dissociated being back into the midst of your present, grievous reality.

Aran proceeds to lift up his tongue, causing you to unexpectedly scrape your head upon the rough ridges along his hard palette. Even more saliva becomes released from his salivary glands as he folds in the sides of his tongue, squeezing tightly upon your now decidedly hyper-aware being. Gently swishing your panicking form between his mostly air-filled, bulging cheeks, Aran finally steepens the downwards slope of his tongue, before releasing his hold which was previously being held by the muscle’s raised sides. Now, sliding head-first towards the gaping, blackened gullet of the giant, maniacal Irishman, your eyes are soon prompted by your brain to divert slightly upwards, within your flailing state of unchecked panic, causing you to promptly comprehend, out of pure necessity for survival, just what you needed to do.

Aran Ryan on the outside was only slightly confused when he realized he wasn’t feeling you being lodged inside of his gullet. Only for him to instantly realize afterwards just why, exactly, this was the case.

Gripping onto the great, floppy uvula for dear life, Aran immediately lets out a nonsensical half suppressed scream, half annoyed gripe, causing the uvula to become jostled about above the widened esophageal sphincter as a result, swaying gently and lightly as you squeezed yourself into its form.

Swallowing hard with rising spite, the sucking force caused by the gulp forces the uvula to stretch downwards just slightly, as your legs begin to slip from their hold around the rounded end.

Aran instantly swallows again, so you wouldn’t be able to reorient yourself from the first swallow, and manage to hold out for any longer. Your legs are soon forcibly launched off the bulbous sack of flesh, and lodged inside of the upper esophageal sphincter, as your hands instinctively tighten as you let out a yelp of pure terror.

Swallowing again, and therefore squelching all of your lower body and the vast majority of your upper body into his esophagus as such, Aran simply ignores the rather uncomfortable stretching sensation being imparted upon his squishy uvula as he swallows for the last and final time, your body unable to hold on any longer as the uvula becomes slingshotted back into its natural position, and you become squeezed into Aran’s esophagus, destined to land inside his stomach.

“Heh! Well, down the hatch with ya!” Aran proceeds to cruelly tease as the constricting, cushiony walls of the esophagus rhythmically squelch you on down towards the Irishman’s guts. Aran proceeds to flop down onto the floor as he places a hand over his midsection in excited, compounding anticipation for the plunge.

Aran was suddenly able to feel something rising back up in his throat, which would indeed have been a cause for panic, had said “something” not turned out to be simply a bunch of swallowed air, most of which had been gulped down in the process of getting you off of his uvula. Releasing all of said air with a rather deep, echoing belch, Aran gives a slight smirk, before a gurgle resonates from his middle.

You on the inside had finally reached the lower esophageal sphincter at this point, and with the rather empty chamber below growling out its lamentations of such emptiness, your body squeezed through, with relative effortlessness, the tight, natural valve, before splash-landing into the acids.

“Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh! Now that sure hit the spot!” Aran once again teases from the outside whilst giving a contented rub over his stomach. This was swiftly followed up by yet another belch, that which you were still able to hear from the inside despite the constant groaning and rumbling reverberating about the churning, goopy chamber around you. Aran allows his tongue to hazily loll out of his mouth, as the Irishman finally settled in to let his body take care of the rest.

Back on the inside, now that the organ had indeed been delivered a meal, Aran Ryan’s stomach proceeds to treat you as such, squeezing in its thick, heated, cushiony walls as the acid levels rise to aid in digestion. Now utterly frozen once more, and ultimately trapped within the merciless belly of the formerly ravenous Irish beast, your body is physically unable to resist as the acids splash and swirl all around you, seemingly trying to drag you down into its goopy, gurgling, deadly depths. The color begins draining from your eyes as you feel your body slipping deeper into the sloshy gut, now merely nothing but a satisfying, yet ultimately insignificant snack to the inane, infamous Irishman known only as Aran Ryan.

****

Aggressively lurching up and forwards, your body gives an utterly animalistic, searing, petrified screech as you eyes flicker open with searing alertness…only to be instantly graced not by the churning, glorping stomach walls of Aran Ryan, but instead, by the welcome, soothing, private comfort that was your very bedroom.

Taking a few good seconds to simply sit there and let everything settle in as you processed it, your now positively relieved and stress-alleviated body finally heaves out a sigh. Just a nightmare. That’s all it was. Nothing more. Nothing you needed to worry about. You were safe, that was a fact. Now, all you needed to do was go back to sleep, and prepare yourself for the day ahead. With that, you flop your body down onto your pillow…only to land instead upon something goopy, squishy, wet, and shifting. Your eyes are jolted open once more, and just like that, it was real, all again.

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amisunderstoodgoddess · 3 months

Text

Hunt - final

(part one here)

Summary: He kidnapped you. He believes you are his mate. Can you find some kind of peace with the monster who took you away from everything you know?

Rated: M (EXPLICIT +18)

Author's note: If you haven't read the first part, I STRONGLY advise you to do it so you can better understand the story. Anyway, thank you for everyone's patience for this second part. It was a busy few months, but I finally managed to finish it.

I apologize especially for not responding to the comments, I really haven't had the time lately. But I appreciate each and every one of them, thank you so much for that babes!!

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

A gentle, icy breeze passes by you and you feel yourself shiver. A smell reminiscent of antiseptics and sterilized products fills your nostrils and, as you begin to become more aware of your surroundings, you feel the smooth, cold and hard surface beneath you. You try to open your eyes, but your eyelids are so heavy; your entire body feels heavy, weighing over a ton as you try and fail to move.

You can hear a soft, clean hum in the background, like new, well-oiled machines at work, but when you finally open your eyes, you see nothing but a blur of white just above your body, an uncomfortable glow of almost blinding light. You grunt and blink a few times, trying to move again and managing to dig your fingers into the smooth surface beneath you.

It's then that the memories come rushing back.

Your heart pounds with the memories and you try to stand up with a surge of vigor that wasn't there before, but your body simply won't obey.

How long have you been blacked out? Are you still on Earth? Or had that alien really taken you to space? Why can't you move?

When a deep rumble fills the air, your hair stands on end all over your body. Slowly, the blinding blur of white light is eclipsed by the outline of a giant looming above you with a cold, impassive metal mask. Your heart jumps in your chest and you immediately want to cry. Whether from the effect of sedation or the sheer wave of terror that wracks your body, all you can do is whimper a “please” before your mind wanders into darkness again.

------

The next time you wake up, you are no longer lying on the cold stretcher. Instead, there's a subtle smell of wet earth filling your nostrils, as well as the pleasant feeling of soft fur wrapping your body. You're warm, cozy really, even if you still feel heavy and very disoriented.

You try to move and, with some effort, you manage to remove your arm from the furs that wrap around it. You struggle to open your eyes, blinking away the confusing fog in your mind, and see an infinite amount of furs around you. You squint your eyes and slowly sit up. Your head is spinning, your neck is tight and sore, and you reach for where the alien had injected whatever infernal compound to knock you out like that. Your skin hurts like an old bruise, but there's nothing more to it than that. You can barely find the tiny needle prick.

It's dark wherever you are, except for soft yellow lighting coming from a corner of the room, and you inspect the furs you're wrapped in. The hairs are of medium length but dense, effectively warming without being irritating to the skin; the furs were clearly expertly carved. You had been kidnapped and imprisoned by a skilled hunter and it was obvious. With a little deeper perception you blush and shiver when you feel the soft furs are in direct contact with your skin. Your skin very bare.

The air hisses with every breath you take now, but the new burn of tears helps clear your vision. Looking around as the room comes into focus, turning to look at whatever it was you were lying on. And if you thought you would be able to see something even slightly recognizable, you were sadly mistaken.

Nothing is familiar.

You are lying in what appears to be a giant nest. It's a kind of huge platform, a few inches above the ground, lined with fluffy, cozy fur.

The environment is a little dark, preventing you from really being able to discern the details, but the walls seem to be made of some kind of dark metal and, in one of them, where there is a focus of yellowish light, you can make out the shape of a pressurized door - the bathroom maybe?

Sitting up a little better, you twist the soft fur between your fingers, a way of trying to distract yourself. Your eyes darting around the corners of the room, mapping everything you could see. That's when you see the two glowing eyes peering at you from across the room, in the shadows. Two orange flames fixed on you for God knows how long. You take a deep breath as you throw yourself back, heart racing in your chest.

Crawling through the nest of furs, you try to scream, but no sound can escape your lips. You try to stand and still keep the covering around your body, but you can only kneel on the bed, fumbling with the furs, your heart in your ears, and you're about to get out of the strange nest any way you can when someone grabs your arm and stops you. The giant alien stands before you now, silhouetted dark against the yellowish light behind him — but his eyes appear luminous as they look at you.

He's standing on the floor and you're kneeling on the tall bed made for creatures larger than you, and yet he towers like a mountain over your small body. You can barely breathe; the creature's huge, deadly clawed hand wraps around your arm like it's just a fragile twig, and for a second you think this is it – this is the moment you would lose your life. But the alien, now without his mask, just looks at you and lets out a low, guttural growl from between his scary jaws. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, he effortlessly pulls you closer to him.

“I-I,” you sigh as you try to stay in the same position. You try to fight him, but he doesn't even seem to notice your efforts. "Please please!" You don't know what exactly you are begging for. But you're not stupid, the unfamiliarity around you could only mean that he had actually kidnapped you. You're on his ship. And if you're on an alien's ship, outside of Earth, completely defenseless and alone, it's because there's no way out.

The creature throws you onto the furs and gives you an icy glowering look before crouching on the ground next to your body, all the while looking at you.

You struggle to breathe. He pulled and pushed you as if you weighed absolutely nothing, showing incontrovertible evidence that he would have no problem dominating you.

He watches you intensely as he has since the first time, tilting his head slightly with obvious curiosity, his dreadlocks falling as they follow the movement. The way he sits is so human, so familiar; his arms rest on his knees, his muscular shoulders are comfortably angled and his legs are bent and wide apart. Although he appears almost relaxed, his gaze is penetrating and dangerous.

You make yourself small - which already seems obvious with the way he towers over you even though he's crouched on the ground - alarmed at what might be stirring in the large creature's mind. You had been chosen by him — at least that's what he told you. A mate. Would he force you? Had he been waiting for this moment since the first time he saw you in the lab? And why did that thought make you feel strangely flushed?

He, on the other hand, doesn't seem prepared for an attack. He just sits there, watching you like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

You wrap your arms around your knees while keeping the furs around your shoulders to hide your body. Running would be fruitless, you know that, and you'd rather not trigger anything primal in the Predator, like acting like prey. It would be the worst move, actually. Instead, you bury your face in your arms and wait.

The alien is silent as night, and for a moment you hear nothing but your own ragged breathing and the soft hum of the ship. When you look shyly from beneath your lashes at him again, he’s still watching you. There's a disturbing intensity in his eyes that makes you beyond nervous, but there's no malice there. Not that you can tell. It's just some kind of undeniable dominance, like he knows you're so far beneath him, that he could do literally anything to you without worrying about your resistance to it. And yet he is there, still waiting.

The…creature, doesn’t blink as he slightly parts his jaws and his head tilts towards you, curiously. "Are you afraid?"

Once again you are startled to hear his translated voice resonating right inside your ear, in the walls of your skull. A low sound. A coarse sound. A curious growl that grazed your bones as if the sky itself was growling at you.

“H-uh.” You're not sure if 'afraid' is a strong enough definition for what you're feeling. Looking at the dark, burly figure that seemingly can't get enough of watching you from the dark recesses of his room fills you with a kind of nervous, suffocating anxiety that makes it difficult for you to breathe. You almost wonder if you're about to pass out. “I…I wouldn’t say afraid.” You lie through your teeth and then, for lack of anything else to say and because you're desperate to understand exactly what the hell you're doing here, you say, "Do you have a name?"

The predator tilts his body a little more towards you. You lean back nervously, because this isn't what you wanted to happen, but he moves slowly and cautiously and pauses just the tiniest distance from you. “Doh’kein.”

He waits, as if waiting for you to say something, announce yourself, say anything.

"Do...D-Dou...kai?" You repeat with difficulty, trying hard to at least try to please this creature and stay on his good side.

He snorts between his jaws and something in the way his broad shoulders vibrate and his flaming eyes shine tells you the sound is something like laughter, fun and guttural; and you imagined the joy of a mountain.

"Doh'kein." He repeats, slower this time, looking expectantly at you.

"Huh - Doh'kein?" You try one more time.

The alien in front of you purrs in approval when you repeat his name almost perfectly, leaning down and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You startle and scream, trying to pull away, but a large hand wraps around your arm and holds you still. His deadly jaws slide along your skin and you arch your neck just to avoid being hooked by one of those things, but unfortunately he takes your gesture as an invitation to continue.

"Y-You've never spoken before. In the lab."

You stutter, trying to start a talk to keep him distracted from what seemed like the end goal of all this.

“That wouldn’t be logical,” he mutters. Against all logic, you exhale shakily as you feel one of his sharp fangs slide gently past your ear, pressing what could be a kiss to the shell. "It's not like all of their primitive ears could understand me if I tried."

The baritone of his voice murmured so close to your ear sends shivers down your spine and you find yourself clenching your thighs. Doh'kein braces himself with both arms in the nest, on either side of your hips, eclipsing your small body with his until he is all there is - until he is all you see.

You argue futilely in an attempt to maintain self-control - his and yours: “W-we could have talked sooner.”

“We could. But then other oomans would know this part of me,” he answers clearly. "Do you wish this had happened?"

You are extremely embarrassed by the immediate ‘no’ that almost rolls off the tip of your tongue. Despite all your fears, you find yourself almost jealous when you imagine this alien being like this with other people. You bite your lip and let your silence answer for you. There is no doubt that this is a disservice to your team and the research being carried out – you seek truths and yet the truth is that you are secretly happy that this is yours and yours alone.

Even if you have difficulty accepting it.

Doh'kein snorts. He brings his broad forehead to your smaller one and your knees reflexively part to make room for him as he settles between them, still kneeling on the floor. The shine in his eyes dimmed. Reminds you of a pyre after the fire has burned for hours at a time; the glowing ash left to cool overnight.

“If I hadn't participated and let them do the tests on me, you wouldn't have paid attention,” he continues. You shiver when he places a hand on your thigh, the grip is careful but it makes you shiver nonetheless. The size of his body forces your legs wider around his waist, to the point where your joints hurt. But he doesn't move, he just waits while the gears in your head turn.

“You...” you gasp as it hits you. “You could have left whenever you wanted.”

He slowly studies you at your words and tilts his head, motioning for you to continue. There is an unshakable composure about him that makes you uneasy. You get the feeling he knows your thoughts before you express them.

“You stayed and cooperated with the research. Even when…even when some of those people treated you like an animal. You could be anywhere but there. You could have stopped that at any time. But you waited."

Doh'kein once again snaps his jaws and snorts his equivalent of a laugh. The sound soon turned into a buzzing noise. He places a large hand on top of your head and leans back into your space, uncomfortably close, as if he wants to impress the answer inside you. “That was exactly where I was supposed to be at that moment. You are my mate."

That word, again.

Silence stretches after that and your skin crawls under the intense scrutiny, a fixed, unforgiving gaze on you. Your mouth is dry, your heart is racing with proximity, your hands, slightly sweaty with tension, are curled into tight fists in the fur around your body. It's not the place or time for it, but slowly you feel the fear turn to...intrigue, despite yourself.

Your captor doesn't seem like the talkative type, but every word that leaves his alien mouth seems to be charged with the purest electricity. That, combined with the intensity of his gaze, was making you tense and coerced — like a little rabbit caught in some trap. And yet, some kind of curiosity was forming in the back of your mind.

You had never experienced anything like it. No one had ever looked at you like that. Bright orange orbs on a completely inhuman face exuding a sense of devotion and hunger that you were unaware of until this moment. It's disturbing and frightening at its majority essence - it's also curiously flattering on the other hand.

A silent chirp pulls you from your thoughts. He must sense your latent anxiety, because the alien pushes you gently (much more gently than you'd imagine for someone his size) against the nest of soft fur and you sink down with a shuddering sigh and a racing heart. His scent envelops you; rain, earth and tall grass.

“Doh’kein,” you falter. “W-why do you keep calling me that? How can you be sure I'm the one you want as a mate? I'm just a human."

You only mention the issue of the difference between species, your overloaded brain can barely think about the challenges of the physical logistics of the act.

“I see that,” he states dryly, as if the fact that you put yourself down irritates him. “But you are mine, little ooman. My mate. And that's not open for debate."

As he covers your body like a mountain of solid muscle, you press the soft fur over you to hide as much of your modesty as possible. Doh'kein doesn't seem to like this very much. Without the slightest warning, the tip of his thumb slides across your knuckles - still stubbornly attached to the covering of fur - and your mouth goes slack at the difference in textures of his scaly skin on your soft flesh. He places one knee on the nest of furs and leans above you, lowering his head so his dreads fall around both of you and obscure his hungry expression. You feel the ghost of his long, sharp claws prickling your skin as his dexterous fingers explore the details of your comically small hand, swirling tantalizing patterns in your own hidden blood beneath before intertwining your fingers with his and freeing your nails sunk into the blanket of furs.

His touch is deliberately gentle as he guides your hands splayed above your head, but his gaze tells another story; firm, fixed and heavy in his message - a warning. It awakens the most basic survival instinct rooted in your genetic code, it raises the hair on your body, it accelerates your heart, it leaves your lips dry with fear.

And it makes the heat spread between your legs.

There is no logical explanation for this reaction of your body. But in the end, it doesn't matter. For whatever had been, or whatever might have been, was completely ripped from your mind at the very moment you heard the thunderous sound resonate in his broad chest.

That purr again.

A rhythmic trembling that seems to rise from the depths of him and take root directly in your very being. So mesmerizing and effective that it makes you forget the dangers of those deadly jaws when he brings his face closer to yours, sliding his long fangs across the softness of your cheeks. You part your lips in an attempt to breathe better, you ball your hands into tight fists on the furs - obediently keeping them where he left them.

As if that wasn't disturbing enough, something different catches you seconds later. Not a hand, not anything tangible, but something entirely invisible.

The invisible thread of a scent.

The scent curls around you before you even knew it was there, without any chance to stop it, to escape its grasp. And suddenly you're tangled; tangled up because of him, this strange alien, even though he does nothing but keep his giant hands splayed in the fur around your body to support his own weight - which, of course, would be more than capable of easily crushing you if he didn't do it, looking at you with a focused and intense gaze. At the same time, you are captive to his warm musk, in a way that only someone like you, so disastrously unlucky, could have been. And before you know it, you're looking at him, not in surprise or disbelief, but in a spellbound trance. Trapped by a breath of rain-damp wood, of a sweetness like slippery stone and the flames of a bonfire on a cloudy day. It's welcoming, it's inviting.

It's impossible to contain the way your eyelids immediately become lethargic and your senses clouded at the first sign of his musk permeating the air. The creature's scent is as overpowering as the first time; it invades your nostrils, thick and heavy, unable to ignore it.

Suddenly you can't speak.

The smell makes you feel a rush of intense, unreal attraction. By an alien. Your hands twitch above your head, and you bite your trembling lower lip. As you do, you watch with hooded gaze the way Doh'kein's sun-colored eyes trace your actions.

“You feel it too, don't you?” he asks in a throaty sound, doing his best to break through the confusing haze of your thoughts.

You can't answer. You don't know the answer. You think you might be whining.

The predator also hears your embarrassing whine, of course. His head tilts slightly and the small thorns on his heavy eyebrows fall darkly over his eyes. You watch as his slick, plum-colored tongue comes out of his strange mouth, stretching beyond what any tongue should be able to, until it leaves a warm, wide trail of saliva on your cheek. And although you shouldn't really enjoy it, you found that you couldn't help but sigh in pleasure at the animalistic act and squirm beneath him.

What's happening to me? You think through the immensity of confusing static in your mind.

You're not squirming to get away.

The subtle but restless movement of your hips has nothing to do with it, really.

You don't run away when he reaches out with a giant hand to cup your chin, guiding your eyes closer to his in a trance that seems endless. To force your gaze on his primal possession. Though his spectral touch penetrated you; leaving a shiver behind him that tickled your chin and cheek in an effervescent shudder.

He doesn't need to force you into anything. His presence is magnetic to you, and yet you can't tear yourself away from his enormous intensity. You can't help hold his gaze. And you see his brow furrowed above you, sink into those serious eyes that map your every expression closely, ignore the danger of his deadly fangs so close to your face.

You stay silent as you watch him. Hostage of unsaid things. Of things without explanation. You just accept it when your skin tingles with a million little feathers of anticipation, with an urgency to be touched that becomes more and more overwhelming the longer he stays near you.

In a pull that was nothing short of urgent, he pushes away the fur that was on your body. You cry out, a little startled by the sudden action, shivering when his jaws buries itself in your hair to breathe, hot and heavy against the back of your neck. Then, resting a large, clawed hand on your shoulder blades, he begins to descend your body, each growling breath coming faster as he descends.

Doh'kein growls and the sound comes from somewhere deep in his body, untamed and wild and eager. Inhaling you deeply, as if he was smelling fine wine. That burgundy tongue appears again, sliding down your neck. You feel his hand on your waist trail down the soft expanse of your belly. You shudder at his demanding touch, your body responding naturally to his touch. Electricity sizzles through your veins. He pulls you towards him, sharp claws running down your back and around your side to caress the lower curve of your breast. The subtle scratch of his claws only adding intensity to the sensations.

Your chest tightens and your face feels hot. Maybe it's the fear, the confusion that goes through your mind or it's all the fault of that addictive scent emanating from him, but your body pulses. Every bit of you feels so alive that it practically vibrates with energy. What if this was all a hallucination? What if you were at home, lying in your comfortable bed, lost in an intense dream rich in details? Maybe-

Wild claws graze the skin on the sides of your breasts, leaving goosebumps and tearing a cry from your lips.

You had never felt like this, like your belly was warm and lit, full of fireflies.

What is this, anyway?

You look up with misty eyes, finding intense swirling golden pools. As mesmerizing as before. Warm breath blowing across your flushed cheeks. Spice and heat filling your nose.

It's like looking at the sun; the blinding rays of light so powerful, burning their pattern into your eyes.

You snap back to reality and immediately notice your two hands gripping his broad obsidian shoulders, the muscles beneath the scaly surface so powerful you can practically feel the raw strength of them beneath your fingers. You had advanced towards him until your nipples were brushing dangerously against his very, very muscular chest. Your core vibrating with a pulse you wanted so badly to ignore. You blush and pull your hand back, but you can't pull it away completely as his arms cage your body.

He pulls you by your hair and pushes you deeper into the warm furs of the nest, pressing his body against you like he knows you're silently yearning. He’s solid, huge. Terrifying. You tremble in his grip and let out a cry of surprise when he thrusts his hips against you. The hard, thing writhes with every pulse, precariously restrained by that Tarzan loincloth around his wide hips, pressing into your belly like it's trying to find a home in the soft hollow below your ribs. Even without actually feeling it skin to skin, the pure sensation of the heavy member against your belly leaves no place for doubt about its size. Not that it's a surprise, considering the alien's corporeal mass - but the very solid, very long weight of his penis against you like this is still capable of eliciting a loud gasp from your throat.

Your reaction seems to amuse the giant, who grunts and snaps something between his jaws in your mouth that you're sure sounds a lot like laughter, grinding against you until the air is forced from your lungs and the only thing you can think deliriously is that it will kill you; that he's about to rip your insides out and maybe even scalp you, considering the firm grip he still has on your hair, the way his claws rake your scalp.

Two things become clear to you then:

1) you are not as scared as you should be about such possibilities.

2) the time for patience and gentle touches has obviously come to an end.

His eyes slowly - very slowly - leave your face and slide in an intimate caress up your bare torso, lingering on your pert breasts, and he widens his jaws in an elongated trill. You don't need a translation to know he's satisfied. He's hungry, orange orbs overflowing with an obvious need that he makes no bones about keeping hidden.

But, unlike the course of action you expected, Doh'kein steps away and steps out of the nest, standing back on his feet. Surprised, you sit up and just look at him, cheeks flushed and hair disheveled from the previous rough treatment.

The giant alien in front of you waits a few seconds until he is absolutely sure he has your full attention. And then, in an unexpected gesture, he rolls his powerful shoulders a few times, lifting his body and adjusting his posture until he's at his fullest (which makes him even more intimidating, if that's possible), emitting a sound that you I hadn't heard it until now. It looked like a puff from a big bear, but longer and stronger, more proud. It's almost like a growl, but not as aggressive as the ones you've heard from him before. The whole thing confuses you, but only for a moment. You part your lips in surprise when you quickly understand his intention.

It's some kind of mating dance. An assertion of dominance and a call to mate. Just like an alpha male would do.

The sound continues rolling between his jaws and echoing between the walls of the room in his ship, crackling like the other sounds coming from him, but more thunderous. He rolls his shoulders once again, clenching his fists and showing how strong he is. You really didn't need a reminder of the fact. But you can't deny that the soft yellow ambient light dancing across his broad torso, showing off his rippling muscles as he purposely moves in such a way as to highlight them, is absolutely breathtaking - in a way that frightens you a little; he is clearly showing you that he will be a good mate.

His eyes as hot as flames are fixed on you with a gaze that burns mercilessly through you. His jaws flare once more, he bares his inner fangs in a growl, and the bangs and clicks grow louder. The sound vibrates through you, and his scent fills the chamber even more. Despite the undeniable fear, your heart races in response, your belly churns, and the slick between your legs betrays you once again as your pussy pulses to be filled.

It's then that you notice the bulge that was poking you a few minutes ago. You can't look away, and in the middle of his seductive vocalization, he lets out another laugh. His sharp claws undo the knots and clasps that keep the loincloth secured around his hips, and you swallow hard, bringing your knees closer to your chest. He lets the fabric fall to the floor, and your mouth falls open as the alien's cock immediately rises against his belly.

It was a monster in its own right, just as you imagined - and yet...no, it's nothing like you imagined. Long and sturdy. Ridges resembling little barbs line the entire length of the underside of the biggest penis you've ever laid eyes on in your fucking life. The color doesn't differ much from the rest of him - the same shade of gray that spreads across his torso and belly also extends along his massive length, up to a bulbous head that gradually changes to an almost purplish color, an imposing scrotum hanging below. Prominent veins cover the shaft and make his penis look even scarier. The entire length, but especially the head, glistening with what appears to be some kind of natural lubrication, alarmingly highlighting those sharp-looking bulges on the underside of his penis. The mere idea of him taking you with that thing makes you visibly shake with anxiety.

“Y/n.” Your name in his growling voice makes you snap out of the daze you were in and you look into his eyes, scared and pathetically excited, blushing at the nothing short of smug expression on his inhuman face. There is no denying that his tactics are having an effect on you. You know he knows you would submit to him like pitiful prey.

Regardless of your newly awakened desires, the powerful claim in his courtship ritual and his intimidating girth, to say the least, frighten you and, instinctively, you try to step back as he places one knee on the furs again. Doh'kein, however, is faster and all you can do is whimper helplessly as he grabs your ankle and stops your escape. The ends of his dreadlocks slide down the softness of your bare torso as he mounts you once more, caging your small body beneath him.

A deep, low rumble escapes him and you catch a glimpse of that long tongue once again as he tilts his head suggestively.

He's smelling your excitement. You know he is.

His huge hands wrap around your thighs with comical ease as he spreads your legs wide apart, exposing you to him without an ounce of reserve. You hide your face in your hands and sob an embarrassed cry as Doh'kein tastes your scent in the air, feels your heat and wetness on his reptilian tongue without even needing to touch you. You bite your lip and swallow a moan, feeling embarrassment burn through every pore, as well as arousal.

“Y/n,” he repeats, and you try and fail to hide the tremor in your body at the sound of his voice vibrating the walls of your mind. You will never get used to it. Doh'kein spreads your legs further apart, exposing you even more to him, and then he presses that word, as if he wants to imprint it into your flesh through pure repetition. "Mate".

A hand holding your thigh releases it and slides down. Your breath catches as he runs over your inner thigh, dragging his claws across your soft skin with the intimacy and experience a years-old lover would have, before reaching your core to cup your intimacy. You gasp and jump out of bed and his hand tightens, grabs you. Pussy, pubic bone, all together, all right there, in Doh'kein's abnormally large palm.

He looks between your legs. Really look.

Orange pools absorbing like osmosis the image of your little pussy caged between his ridiculously thick and long fingers. He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He just stands there, holding your most intimate part as if it were a fragile toy. It's not the first time you've been intimate with someone, although it is, in fact, the first time with someone...less than human. But even so, you've never been looked at with so much desire and possession. The attention makes you move timidly to try and cover yourself, but Doh'kein clearly doesn't like it as he abruptly lifts his face to you and growls an unspoken threat - once again grabbing your wrists with his free hand and pinning them above your head. You whimper and squirm against his hold, but you're no match for the creature's brute strength.

Doh'kein presses a considerable amount of force against the nest, a firm and unquestionable warning, before slowly releasing them. When you don't move in retaliation, he purrs in satisfaction and focuses once again on your intimacy. He looks at the place with hungry curiosity before gently twitching his fingers, giving you an experimental squeeze that encompassed absolutely every outer area of your pussy and more.

You whimper and Doh'kein's gaze is drawn to yours. He watches your face intently for a reaction as he slowly drags his thumb over the sensitive, needy bud that is currently your clit, and your breath hitches when you bite your lip - you don't know if it was a conscious movement or just a exploratory attempt, but the action electrifies your body with a pure jolt of pleasure. His dreads jiggle and his jaws twitch as he purrs with delight, and unexpectedly, he leans toward your neglected breast, letting that plum-colored tongue lather your nipple with his heated saliva, wrapping the forked muscle around it.

His rough tongue wraps around your sensitive bud once, twice, three times, making you shudder and gasp as his rumbling purrs vibrate through his chest in response. You squirm in his nest, your head thrashing as he bounces between each breast, sliding that tongue over every inch of your sensitive skin, the scratch of his sharp jaws scraping your soft flesh only fueling the fire that roars loudly inside you. His thumb slides once again across your clit (gliding easily with all the wetness you're shamefully producing) in a slow, deliberate circle that makes you sure the action is purposeful.

Slowly, Doh'kein retracts his tongue back into his sharp-toothed mouth, hearing you moan louder with each slow turn of his thumb, shaky mewls escaping your lips and you blush as you notice how arrogant he sounds with irrefutable certainty that you're enjoying this.

The alien seems strangely familiar with human anatomy and carefully caresses the edge of your canal before rupturing it with an intimidating finger. You cry and immediately tighten your pussy around his finger, fighting against the girth that, alone, is bigger than anything you've taken inside you recently. But Doh'kein is not discouraged. He pushes his finger inside you, sinking it deep with the confidence of a man with a purpose. His claw scraped almost uncomfortably against your inner walls, sending small, sharp flashes of pain through you with each movement, but even that was tiny when compared to the magnitude of pleasure you felt.

The place fills with the sound of your breathless pants, your fragile mewls and the sound of your pussy being fucked by that finger.

The predator grunts deeply as he explores you, thrusting his finger in and out of you in slow but deep movements, and when he feels satisfied with one, he begins to insert another.

“N-no!” You gasp and instinctively grab his wrist to try stop him. Your eyes are teary and you look at him while shaking your head. “Please, I c-can't, I can't take another-”

His face turns, slowly. The frown is almost cruel as he looks at your small fingers gripping his wrist, then looks straight into your eyes. You let go of his arm as if you had burned your hand.

"Yes you can." That's all he says, looking into your eyes. That's all he thinks you need to hear, apparently. His thumb poking your clit one more time to make you jump from the sensation. You sob, lost between the intense waves of pleasure and panic, and the giant clicks his jaw before returning with his exploration.

You cry out at the burning sensation of pain as he pushes in his other finger, stretching you further than you've ever been stretched before. The sharp pain quickly mixes (mercifully) with your excessive excitement as the creature quickens his pace.

"That's better. Good girl, just relax,” he praises you. His thumb keeps rotating and tapping against your clit, effectively distracting you from the pain, his fingers reaching deep, and his claws lightly scratching your insides. The mortifying sounds of your abundant wetness echo louder and louder between the walls of the room, along with your sobs, screams and moans. "That's it, little ooman. Come on, cum for me." Doh'kein mumbles into your eardrums through the translator, leaning up until his dreadlocks are falling like a curtain around your face, hiding you from the rest of the world.

A hand sinks into the softness of the nest, right next to your face, long claws digging hard into the furs, to the point where you hear them tearing — a form of restraint, maybe? You can't think about it too much, though. Heat pools in your belly abruptly, your vagina tightens with burning pain; your insides aching with pleasure and your chest tightening before everything explodes in a devastating orgasm. You scream, your pussy clenching around his invading fingers, and you close your eyes so tight you see stars shining in the darkness of your eyelids.

You can't breathe; you really try to breathe through it, but nothing comes, there's just your lips parted in a silent scream - your body too tense, too tense, as the orgasm washes over you with the force of a tidal wave. Your pussy cries, flooding his hand and sucking him at the same time. Goosebumps run through your body, muscles twitch, sweat slightly erupts from your pores, and when you finally come down, your body feels indulgent and soft. When he pulls his fingers out of you with a wet snap, you gape, hating the void he's left.

He's an alien, you repeat weakly in the confusing haze of your mind, a creature that coerced you and took you away from your planet without your permission. What you are experiencing are just pleasure hormones. Nothing more or less than a hormonal combination of serotonin, endorphins, dopamine and oxytocin. They are truly responsible for the feeling of well-being, reduced stress and the relaxation that seems to wash over your body at the moment. Doh'kein is not a god, he is not a god. No matter how much your body disagrees with that right now.

Doh'kein purrs as he slowly strokes the aching, swollen flesh of your sex; he opens you with his wide fingers, slowly and gently, grunting in contentment as he sees how your little hole continues to contract sporadically. He moves his fingers over your sensitive clit and teases it before returning to your folds.

It's just pleasure hormones, you repeat over and over again as you feel his digits probing every inch of your abused pussy, as if he can't get enough of touching you. You still whimper with every breath and can barely lift your arms, much less fight against him as he takes his time inspecting your hole and all the wetness that gushes from there. Your body was still affected on some level by the sedative he had given you earlier and, now, by the powerful orgasm that brutally ripped through your insides. All you want is to snuggle into those soft furs and sleep.

Doh'kein, however, would not allow this.

You mewl a little when he grabs you by the waist and turns you onto your stomach in one fluid movement. You feel like putty; choosing to just give in and let him mold you however he wants - even if, miraculously, you had some strength to fight him, it's obvious that you wouldn't be able to. He adjusts you on your knees, spreading your legs wide as he does so. The explicit position embarrasses you, but you do nothing but gasp as your face is buried in the bed and your ass lifted into the air.

He positions himself behind you. His large body shadowing yours, his hand sliding almost reverently down the sharp curve of your spine until he cups a plump globe of your buttock between his fingers in a firm grip. You blush and bite your lip as you feel a hot, heavy, wet shaft fall into the crack of your ass. He gently slides there a few times, grinding against you as he continues squeezing your flesh, lifting and lowering your ass by the length of his cock.

"I've wanted you every moment since I found you. Every day smelling you, but not being able to act, was torture. Being patient has never been more difficult for me than in those days." He confides in that baritone voice, threading his other hand into the strands of your hair, gently digging his claws into your scalp and pulling to force you to arch your back more. You groan at the sensation, your hips beginning to mimic the movements of his, sliding your ass cheeks onto his dick yourself. "But the wait was worth it. It's time for me to fill you, it's time for me to finally make you mine. My mate." He finishes whispering in your brain, the little chip in your skin working quickly to translate the growled words and clicks of his jaws. His words, his smell, his movements...everything is pushing you into another spiral of pleasure.

Too weak to object, you just shiver as the extraterrestrial creature aligns his monstrous cock with your newly stretched pussy, his fat tip coated with that natural lubricant poking at your wet entrance. He firmly grips your hips and, with one determined thrust, sits inside you.

...

That's it.

There is no slow entry or split stretch.

He just pushes and goes in.

You scream.

It's very big. You feel like you're being torn apart, split in two, stabbed from the inside, and you desperately grab the fur beneath you to crawl away from the burning pain, but Doh'kein's grip on your hip keeps you in a steel prison. Maybe he thought about it and decided that it would be easier if he came in at once instead of prolonging the torture - and maybe later, when you had a clear head and thought about it, you agree that this was actually the best choice. But all you know now is pain. You scream as he leaves; each little barb protruding from the underside of his menacing cock abusing your inner walls, vibrating your overstimulated clit and sending stabs of pain throughout your entire being. When he plunges into you again, he goes even deeper, slamming hard against your cervix, bruising it.

Tears flood your eyes instantly and you sob into the fur, clutching the covers so tightly that your knuckles ache and turn white. Your body shakes with pain and shock, and you can feel you soaking the furs with your tears and saliva as you cry, softly begging him to stop.

Surprisingly, upon hearing your whimpers, he stays still for a moment, buried deep inside you. Desperately trying to accommodate him, your walls contract repeatedly and grip his shaft, and beneath the blinding pain, there is a surprisingly pleasurable sensation of being completely filled, completely stretched. Full of him.

The predator is grumbling behind your back. Elongated grunts and sporadic snorts. Like a poorly restrained animal. The grip of his fingers on your hip is painful and you can feel the tips of his claws bruising your skin. You'd have marks after this, you think. Bloody cuts and purple bruises as the price for getting involved with something (someone) your human body should theoretically be incapable of handling. If you survived, of course.

"You're so...tight, pauk, I never imagined...paya, your h'dui'se is addictive-" Your translator seems to have some difficulty with some of his words and you blink, confused, but at the same time overwhelmed with all these sensations. By God, he looks positively wrecked - barely clinging to the limits of self-control.

And then, apparently having resigned himself to the fact that he was going to lose this battle, Doh'kein thrusts again, his balls slapping against your wetness and your clit. At that moment, you knew that the devastating and unreal pleasure you felt was, most likely, the result of your brain; like a desperate attempt to deal with the pain of this unnatural mating – because honestly, nothing should feel this painfully good.

“You look so good, my little human.” Growling, he pressed his claws into your skin a little tighter and this time you were absolutely sure there was a cut and blood. “Don’t fight me.”

“Ooh, God,” you whimper as his cock continues to defy the limits of your human capacity. It’s too big, too weird, and you can literally feel how your walls try to reject it.

Doh'kein flattens a giant hand across your back, pressing your body further against the nest of soft fur. “Easy now, mate. You can take me." He pushes deeper. “You see? I'm completely inside you. You feel me? Do you feel like my cock gives you no choice? It shouldn't be there, should it? Oh no, it shouldn't. It's wrong, isn't it? But isn’t it just as good?”

God. He suddenly becomes talkative, the small chip implanted in your skin working quickly to translate the rude words that clack through his jaws.

“Y-yeah,” you cry, though. Because, yes, it's good in fact.

“And it's about to feel even better." He grabs you by the hips and pushes you hard. He fucks you repeatedly, and it's painful, very painful, but it only fuels you pleasure. Another thrust, and this time he forces a broken moan from your depths. Your wetness soaks his waist, your pussy clenches around him with torturous eagerness, and the predator on your back sets a relentless pace. You gasp a strangled mewl and shake, clutching the furs beside your head for dear life, trying to keep yourself as stable as possible with each brutal jolt of his body against yours. There is no romance or soft touches from a gentle lover. He's fucking you. Claiming your body in an undeniable act of animalistic possession. A true predator in heat.

There is no mercy. He abuses you with his monstrous strength, with his unparalleled stamina, and takes everything from you – your dignity, your free will, and any future hope of finding a human who can match him; in the vague and foolish hope in the possibility that you would return to Earth. His claws dig into your hips, every breath he takes is a cruel growl, and you express out loud your pain and your pleasure in equal measure.

Each little pliable barb at the base of his penis rubs fiercely and repeatedly against your tight inner walls, reaching spots inside you you didn't even know existed. Despite the tension and pain, the warmth grows and blooms like a beautiful flower in your womb again. You mewl and whine, feeling the building release tighten in your core; you needed little to fall off that precipice of ecstasy again. But Doh'kein grunts deeply, calms the fierce thrusts in your pussy and slowly pulls out of your body.

“N-no, wait, please-” you breathe desperately, pushing your hips back to maintain contact with him. Desperation taking over your body as the tendrils of ecstasy slip like sand through your fingers.

The creature deeply rumbles what you know to be a laugh (a laugh at your expense, much to your embarrassment) and parts your ass cheeks, exposing your wet, swollen folds, the cruel pulsing of your pussy around nothing. You don't know why he stopped - since he's obviously been craving this even more than you, but he's taking his sweet time now, widening your hole and digging those claws into your skin possessively - and you feel an embarrassing need of screaming at the top of your lungs for him to just go back to fucking you in that ridiculously comfortable nest.

"Do you like that, pet..." He growls and it's a statement, not a question. He knows you like it. Your body is making it obvious. You blush and try to pull yourself up onto your shaking elbows, but Doh'kein is faster. In an almost savage movement, he wraps his long fingers around the back of your neck and pushes your head down, making you scream with your cheek pressed firmly against the furs of the nest.

He places his other hand next to your head and lowers himself until he is hovering a few centimeters from your body; big, wide, powerful - it makes you feel like a little Eskimo inside an igloo. You can feel his alien jaws ruffling the strands of your hair, you can feel the strange tubes of his dreadlocks tickling your back, and you can especially feel the possessive, territorial way in which he holds you still as he press you by the back of your neck. There's not much you can do but give in, soften your body against his grip and submit to this creature that is obviously countless times stronger than you.

His broad chest pushes against your back as he makes the rumbling, crackling sound again, a more aggressive (though definitely satisfied) purr, and your nostrils are filled with his earthy scent. It fills the back of your throat, your lungs, your mind, your body, and makes you ache even more for him. You let out a breathless moan and writhe on the bed, pressing the fur tightly between your fingers and begging for him as you arch your spine and displays your intimacy to him. Your pussy cries, desperately searching for the cock that dominated you just moments ago.

"My name." Your body is a trembling, pulsing line of nerves and you barely hear the command whispered in your ear. Everything in your line of vision (already hampered by the way your hair is wildly loose) is blurry and confused and you try to swim out of the sea of pleasure you're drowning in, in the smell of earth and rain and an undeniably masculine musk that is threatening to dull your senses once again.

"What--"

"Say my name."

Your eyes widen and you almost choke on the word before it finally escapes your lips.

"D-Doh'kein."

He smiles, huffs his strange laugh into your hair, pushing that scary member between your ass cheeks to reward you - sliding it up and down once, just teasing your pussy every now and then until you're squirming.

Only then does he say. "Beg."

His claws are ghosts of danger on the sensitive skin of your throat, in spots that could quickly and easily end your life. And you know he could, without any effort, hurt you and draw blood - just as he did the battered flesh of your hips. But he doesn't. And that alone, the control and dominance that exude from the male behind you, makes your head spin and your pussy tighten until it hurts.

“Please…please – I just, I need this, please…” You mumble, only half coherent.

He held your ass firmly, spreading you wide, before pressing his swollen tip against your entrance. You choke and bite your lip, but even all the need and heat coursing through your veins isn't enough to drown out the scream that explodes from you as he plunges back into your pussy with a roar. The stretch takes you to the limit you were teetering on just moments ago and your body falls apart, happy to seize the opportunity it had been denied before. You tighten around him, holding him with all your might; your whole body twitching, but Doh'kein doesn't seem to care as he pounds into you with relentless thrusts, grunts rising from within him like thunder sounding in the sky. You scream again, your vision blurs and your torturous pleasure echoes wildly between the walls of the room on this alien ship. Your hard nipples rub against the fur of the bed as they grind incessantly to his strong thrusts, and the monstrous cock continues to rearrange your insides; the ridges of his length torment you, drive you crazy, and prolong your release until you're nothing but a wet, quivering mess.

He leans over you again; and you cry as you feel the wetness of his growling saliva run down your exposed shoulder, hot and slick, the black tubes moving like a curtain around both of you, and he grips the back of your neck tighter as he begins to pound into you violently - frantically.

He is an animal and there is no other definition that fits what is happening.

You make a sound like a sob. There are tears on your face, hot and salty against your skin. You can no longer tell where you begins and ends, only that you are fused with Doh'kein. His hips on your ass, his cock on your cervix, which he abuses with each brutal thrust. You can't say who you are or remember why you're here, but you can tell he's close.

“I need to breed you,” he growls into the side of your face, pressing you into the nest almost angrily, “I don’t know if it’s possible, but I can’t think of anything other than filling and breeding you for the rest of my life – I need this – I need to try, right now, every day–”

“I want it, I want – I want it,” you babble incoherently through the saliva that’s pooled in your mouth, all sense of self-preservation going out the window as your senses are dulled, “I want you to breed me, I want it, please!" The fact that probably nothing could be generated from an alien/human union seemed to be irrelevant to both.

You just accept it all, happy to be used as he fucks and bites you with those strange jaws and desperately chases his own release.

Doh'kein growls and hits you one last time. His cock grows and swells and feels like it definitely shouldn't fit, like there shouldn't be enough place inside you to accommodate it - but you moan, pussy stretching like it was made to envelop him, and then he's basically locked inside you. You float, only vaguely aware of him pressing you into the nest as he collapses some of his colossal weight onto you, because all you can think about is his roars, the hot cum filling you in thick bursts, plugged inside you by his inhuman cock. He grinds his hips into your ass, pushing his cum deeper and deeper, but the amount is so great that it inevitably escapes where your bodies are joined.

You feel soft and fuzzy, stuck in that satisfied, complacent head space. You writhe with aftershocks and warm goosebumps that bubble up your entire body, from your scalp to your toes. Even though every inch of your body hurts and you know there are cuts and bruises on your flesh, you've never felt as full as you do in this moment.

Time passes between deep, panting breaths and consciousness returns in fragments; first, the intense, aching pulse between your legs, where Doh'kein is lodged deep inside you. Secondly, his weight on your back is practically knocking the air out of your lungs. Third, you are sweaty and sticky and bleeding in places.

You shift instinctively, trying to lift one leg, and he growls at you. His cock tugs at your insides in a way that isn't pleasant and you freeze at the sharp stab of pain. Your body finally feeling the effects of the extraterrestrial union. You moan at the sensation, but it comes out more as a wheeze since your lungs can't fully expand under his weight. “Y-you're crushing me, Doh'kein. I need to breathe, please-”

This catches the attention of the giant behind you and he rolls to the side, the feeling of his cock slipping out and letting more of that sticky fluid escape from your used pussy draws a low mewl from your throat. You have two seconds to inflate your chest for oxygen before he's turning your body and climbing on top of you once again. You blink like an owl as you find yourself face to face with the predator once again. The orange orbs are fixed on yours as he supports his weight on his hands beside your head, long ropes of defined muscles run up his forearms and into his broad shoulders, giving him an intimidating appearance. Not that the four jaws on his alien face weren't enough for that, of course.

You're proud that you don't jump when he touches your face with those sharp clawed fingers, holding your chin and turning your face from side to side.

“I, huh-” you begin, confused when he does nothing but inspect your face inch by inch in complete silence. Now that the frenzy and excitement were subsiding, a different kind of embarrassment washes over you as he lets go of your face and shifts his attention to your breasts and stomach. He ignores you when you stutter a shy question as you feel him groping your breasts and your waist, too rough fingers caressing as gently as he can the bloody welts where his claws have scratched you. He doesn't apologize or show any kind of regret, nothing about his alien facial expression changes when he looks up at you with his ember eyes again. But he continues massaging your flesh in gentle strokes, tilting his head towards you and moving his jaws once. And you know that's the biggest apology you'll ever get from him.

He seems pleased with whatever look is on your face at the moment, because soon you can hear that purring sound once again. A sound that, added to the extreme tiredness that plagues your body, makes you want to close your eyes and sleep. But Doh'kein has other plans. Without any effort, he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you into his lap as he stands, taking you both to what you assume is the bedroom's bathroom.

He doesn't stop his purring as he walks and you're grateful for that, the sound is calm and light and makes you forget about the many problems you obviously need to face. You wouldn't waste energy on that at the moment, though. It wasn't something that was worth or would make any difference, to be honest. Apparently you are bonded to this creature, destined to be his mate or whatever. You are no longer on Earth and cannot even match your strengths and abilities with this creature. Fighting it would be futile.

You look down and touch your belly, marked by some bruises from his powerful grip, and wonder if the union had any success. If not, he might want to try again, just like he says. The thought curls warm and shaky at the bottom of your spine and you feel your face heat up as you discover that you would welcome more attempts.

You look at him from under your eyelashes as he enters the bathroom, leading you both to a huge bathtub - although, to you, the thing looks more like a swimming pool. As you watch him, you notice that the predator's face is as rough and scary as it always was, but when his beautiful orange eyes lower and look at you with such devotion and possession, it's impossible to control the tremor in your body. On some level he is under your command too, you realize. He has been since the beginning, when he allowed himself to be captured and imprisoned just to chase your scent - the scent of his mate. Just the thought of it sends a thrill through you.

You feel his hands on your buttocks as he adjusts your body against his scaly skin, his other hand pressing a few buttons to make the tub fill. A shiver runs down your spine. He shows no sign of straining as he holds you, just keeps you steady and perched on his shoulder as much as you can with your dreadlocks falling loosely around his head. You feel his muscles flex beneath you.

Clutching you to his body, his release still leaking between your thighs, Doh'kein carefully steps into the tub and sits down, arranging you on his lap. You keep your head on his shoulder, feeling his rough hands squeezing your waist and hips, the hot water enveloping your muscles in the best way possible. He squeezes your flesh almost gently, sliding his fingertips instead of his claws. He's massaging your bruises again, you notice. With a tired sigh, you settle your head in the crook of his neck and you can swear his purr stutters for a second.

"Rest, little ooman. We have a long way to go." He grunts glumly and enigmatically, but you just hum some answer, already feeling your eyelids heavy and mind lethargic.

The last thing you think, still hearing his purring and his strange attempt at aftercare is that, with some effort, you could adapt to this new life.

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