How about the reader teaching the Driders how to kiss?- on the mouth.
*Kiss on the cheek for you* You are an amazing writer and I look forward to more of your writing.
You get a lil cheek kiss back thank u <3
Ooooh that's a neat idea. This got a little away from me (as things tend to do..) Whoops. I wanted to explore how both the spoods would react to a sorta similar experience, and had a lot of fun with how they respond differently. Anyhoo, class in session? I guess? Enjoy!
Tw for suggestive content (as one can imagine)
It's rare for Dren to venture outside the cave for any reason other than to get supplies. But, ever observant, he's taken note of your stir crazy and subtly spending longer and longer outside whenever you go to catch some sunlight.
So he's strapped the basket sheltering his young to his abdomen and gone with you for a little outing, for no other reason than to look at the changing leaves in the forest, some fresh air, and enjoying spending time with you.
You ask him about the surroundings, and he eagerly puts his odd collection of knowledge to good use when indulging you. You can always name and recognize at least three new species of plants whenever he does this. It may not be useful knowledge to you, but it is endearing watching Dren excitedly talk about things, loosening up a little around you.
You enjoy his company underneath the extensive forest canopy, sunlight filtering through the leaves and a brisk, cold wind. You pull you cloak a little closer and step to Dren's side for warmth as you walk, idly chatting along the way.
The peace is broken when the sound of other people speaking reach your senses. Dren stops moving to look for the source, suddenly going quiet again. The path ahead splits, and further away you see another group of common-folk slowly coming toward the path you're currently on.
You glance up at your companion. He stares at the strangers approaching with eyes narrowed, like he's trying to figure out how to diffuse a ticking time bomb. You know he's sensing for a shift of vibrations in the air, considering if he should be on guard or not.
You sigh, knowing his anxiety is already running ragged. You don't want what was supposed to be a fun shared experience triggering his overprotective instincts, but the way his dark lower body changes its stance like prepping for an impact tells you it already has. His paranoia still gets the best of him at times.
"We're just gonna pass them by," you offer quietly, running a hand over the sensitive black hairs on his front leg. He seemingly snaps out of it, and focuses on you instead. "Just like at the marketplace. Easy as pie. Who'd stop us, right?"
Dren nods, calming himself at your words and starts walking again, following your lead. Though you notice he steps a little heavier than usually. Surprising, considering he can be completely soundless if he wants to remain undetected, but it may be for the benefit of the common-folk you're about to cross paths with.
Less incentive to act on surprise if they hear him coming.
And they do, the group practically stops dead in their tracks at your approach, conversations cut short, several eyes staring - a family of five, it seems, three adults and two adolescents. They're a group of some sort of humanoid canines.
You push forward, however. If you stop too, you're admitting it's a standoff. You've learned to play it off casually. Dren stays close enough so you can feel the weight of his presence right behind you.
"Good afternoon," you offer politely as you get closer, an unspoken ask for peace.
"G'afternoon," one of the adults reply, silently agreeing to it.
Most of the group turn to keep on their way, though one of them stops to look you over. Something about their stance makes you glance at them once more.
The spear they carry on their back tells you they're not just any common-folk. The way they carefully watch you puts you a little on edge. Dren notices too, and you can literally feel the dangerous shift in his energy as someone who's clearly a hunter shows just a little too much interest in you.
The family hurries past, waiting further down the road, as Dren calmly steps to your front, one leg blocking you from view. You glance under his abdomen, and the legs carrying his young clutch the side of the basket, as if subtly preparing to tear it from himself. He's readying in case he has to quickly hand them to you.
"Leave us be," Dren says, voice steady and sure, though you note his claws gripping at the ground. "There will be no conflict if you do not make it one."
"I intend not to," the hunter replies cautiously, arms out in a placating gesture. Unarmed. They return their attention to you. "Sentry. Are you alright?"
Dren can't hide a subtle hiss when the hunter addresses you, and you put a hand on his waist to calm him. You frown. Why would a hunter of all people show concern for you?
"I'm fine. Leave us alone," you reply shortly.
The hunter watches you for an uncomfortably long moment, though glances at Dren and wisely decides not to push it. They turn, and go to follow the rest of their group.
You turn as well, silently grabbing Dren's hand to pull him with you.
"Blue moons, they're nasty up close," one of them breathes when they think you're out of earshot.
"Poor thing," another whispers. "They're always completely brainwashed."
You quickly send a rough glare back in their direction, though it seems the group is focusing on moving on, and they don't catch it. You ignore them instead, and gently nudge Dren to keep moving, praying he didn't hear that.
His very stoic silence proves that, unfortunately, he did.
Once you've covered some ground, and sure you're alone again, you gently pull at Dren's arms to make him turn towards you and lean down. He's avoiding your eye and fidgeting.
"Hey, don't listen to them," you assert, gently moving a stray black hair from his face, hand resting on his furred shoulder. "You know they just don't get it, and they're not interested to learn. That's on them."
"But their words are always on us," he growls, uncomfortably stepping in place. He looks at you, sighs, and softly leans into your hands, resting his forehead against yours. "But not to worry, I'm not listening to them. I'm not sad. I'm angry."
"And you have every right to be," you agree, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "They're being extremely rude for no reason. I'm sorry to drag you out here and then this happens of all things. Let's just get back."
You go to pull away, but Dren puts a palm on your face to stop you, staring at you curiously. You peer back, a little confused. His anger has seemingly all but evaporated all of a sudden.
"What was that?" he inquires, chittering quietly.
"What was what?"
He tilts his head at you. "You put your mouth on my face."
Oh. You did, didn't you?
Wait, is this the first time you've kissed him? You didn't even think about it. It just came so naturally in the situation to reassure him, enjoying his proximity, indulging his warmth -
"Shit, dude, I'm so sorry," you realize in horror. If he doesn't even know what a kiss is- "I should have asked -"
"No, no, it's alright," Dren says quickly. He keeps his hand on your chin, not letting you look away. His gaze softens. "Actually - could you do it again?"
You feel a flutter in your stomach. "Again - give you a kiss?"
"If that's what it was, yes," he says, a small smile playing on his lips. "The gesture seems regular to you? If you want, I'd like to try it again."
His vicinity and complete earnestness is not doing wonders for you at the moment. Neither is the direct fixation in his eyes, like he's just daring you to look anywhere else. He's drawing you in again, as effortlessly as ever. You wonder if he even knows he does this.
You swallow a lump in your throat. Does he realize how awkward this is? Perhaps he just doesn't care. Ever patient, he just watches you think things through.
But you do perhaps want to kiss him again. Just to give it a try? It couldn't hurt to show him the ropes, could it?
"Okay - but I'm going to do it a little differently this time, if that's alright?" you ask. "If I do this, I want to do it right."
Dren nods, intrigued. "Go ahead."
Your heart start hammering as you reach the back of his head to slowly guide him to you, leaning in and gently brushing your lips across his. You can feel him tensing a little, fingers ghosting over your neck and chin, unsure where to put them. He's angling himself to better accommodate your movements. Even though you're taking the lead, he's trying his best to be careful.
Christ, has Dren always been this soft and warm? You know he can be, but this is like experiencing him again. You recognize the gentle energy within him calmly reaching for you, and you melt into him in a completely new way.
You can feel something sharp on your lip, his pointed teeth and mandibles brushing across your lips and face as he leans in further, looking for more - but the little stings don't matter. You know for sure that any danger he possesses would never be a danger to you. You carefully move your lips against his, and he copies you, eager to learn this new skill, his warmth completely engulfing you like a soft blanket of trust.
When you finally pull away again he's seemingly breathless, and so are you. You only notice now he's completely curled both his pedipalps and legs around yours, pressing close up against you like a lifeline. A deep, guttural purr escapes him as he stares, obsidian eyes sizing you up like a starved man going for seconds. The sound lights a fire in your stomach, your heart leaping out your throat as your face burns.
"Woah dude, not in front of the kids," you blurt, borderline hoarse.
Dren blinks, the spell officially broken, and bumps his face into your shoulder, howling with laughter.
"No, fuck - ugh," you groan at your own lack of filter for ruining the heated moment. "I'm so sorry," you laugh, holding onto him to hide your face.
Dren pulls you to him and lifts you off the ground effortlessly, losing himself in the moment to hold you close. You steady yourself with arms around his shoulders to keep balanced at the rapid movement.
Dren's laugh settles as he rests his face in the crook of your neck, breathing deeply.
"I've not laughed like this in my life before you came around," he says, softly nudging you. "Please never apologize for that."
"I'll apologize for not handling this well," you argue, running your fingers over the back of his head. "I really think you should be able to enjoy a kiss, especially if it's the first time you're doing it."
Dren pulls back to look at you fondly, supporting your weight with his front legs.
"I did enjoy it. Very much," he chuckles, pressing his face against your cheek. "Perhaps I just need to learn to contain myself, should you ever wish to do this again."
************************************************************************
It's been a quiet day today, taking a break at an idyllic lakeside deep in the forest. Morgan has their mind set on a small town they've never seen and you're prepping to spend the night in this little safe spot underneath the stars before you reach it tomorrow.
You've finished starting a fire and settled back when Morgan suddenly sneaks up behind you, pressing their face against your cheek and chittering. You let out a not so dignified sound at the startle.
"What?" you grumble at them, waving their hair out of your face. "Don't you have a task to do?"
"You should pay more attention to your surroundings," Morgan purrs, eyeing you. "You must be tired. Good thing the pod is all finished and ready for sleeping. I just need you now."
"Don't hold your breath," you mutter, and look up to the canopy above.
Indeed it seems the webbing they've spun to accommodate you both for the night is finished, expertly secured and up high, spreading out over multiple trees. They did all of this this surprisingly quick. The strong, silky strings glint slightly in the dwindling sunlight, looking rather impressive, you reluctantly admit.
Morgan is nothing if not efficient. And so, so eerily quiet when they want to be. You hardly noticed as they worked right above you.
They watch you admire their construction, obviously pleased with themself. You avoid their eyes by looking into the flames in front of you.
"I'll take your deafening silence as approval," Morgan teases. They lie down next to you, flat on their torso, resting their head in their hands, abdomen stretching behind them.
"Also, I found something when moving about. I thought you might like it," they add, holding out a clenched hand to you, something hidden in their palm.
You eye them cautiously, assessing their nonchalant expression and easy smile as they eagerly watch you right back. Gingerly, you put you palm out to accept the offer.
They unfurl their clawed fingers, dropping a small soft object in your hand. It's some sort of flower head with blueish-white petals, stretching almost like small tendrils.
"These are good for insomnia," Morgan explains softly at your confused expression. "You've been having trouble sleeping lately, and they grow a lot around here. If you want, I'll show you how to make use of them."
That's - oddly considerate. Well, in many ways, they are. Your thriving and consequent survival means theirs as well, after all.
Though something in the back of your mind tells you not to let Morgan give you something that'll leave you even more defenseless in your sleep. There's, after all, a very good reason you've not been sleeping well lately. And it might have to do with sharing your sleeping space with an incredibly dangerous predator.
No matter how much their proximity calms you immensely.
As if sensing your train of thought, Morgan leans into your side, resting a head on your shoulder. You can practically feel the anxiety flee your body like it's scared of them.
"Just let me know," they hum at your silence. "I wish you'd just let me help you instead, though. I could lull you to sleep pretty easily."
You lean your head against theirs heavily. "So why haven't you?"
"Because I want you, to want me, to do it," they shrug, absentmindedly running a hand over your arm. "But I understand I can't right now. My sentry doesn't trust me at all. So, for now, let's keep this as a backup if your insomnia gets worse, hm?"
This is honestly surprising. For all their unpleasantness, Morgan at least seems somewhat genuine when it comes to taking care of your health. You can't trust them, but you can at least trust their consistency in being hellbent on keeping you alive. This little gesture is just further proof of that. You sure don't feel like you owe them anything, because you don't. But perhaps you can throw them a bone for this one. If you're stuck together anyway, might as well reward good behavior.
"Thank you," you sigh, absentmindedly pressing a small kiss to the top of their head still resting on your shoulder. They smell faintly of grass and sweat. "I'll keep it in mind."
Morgan slowly pulls away from said shoulder in favor of staring into you, an inch away from your face. You recoil at the startling change as their red eyes zero in on you.
"What was that, sentry?" they ask curiously, lowly, tilting their head. You can feel their breath, their energy fluttering against you.
And it only now occurs to you what you just did without thinking. What possible consequences could it have giving Morgan that type of affection? And after all this work, being so careful to not indulge them. Foolish.
"Nothing," you brush it off quickly, turning to grab a stick to stoke the fire unnecessarily.
Morgan keep hovering close, and you feel their hand curl softly around your shoulder. You don't need to look to know they've got that obnoxiously knowing expression on their face. They get it whenever you try to hide something, your fluster never failing to be extremely amusing to them.
"Nothing? Then why are you so embarrassed?" they tease, nudging your side.
"It was a little kiss," you snark, resisting the urge to glower at them. You don't want to look at that face again. "I think you know that very well."
"Kiss," they repeat, tasting the word and casually trailing their fingers over your neck. You shiver. "I don't think I do. Care to explain it to me? It's very soft. I like it."
Their hands settle over your chin, gently turning you to face their humored staring. You can't tell if they truly don't know, or if they're just enjoying watching you squirm with this. They seem relaxed, and you can feel its infectious energy traveling through you as well. An attempt at reassurance.
They do genuinely seem intrigued, however. And this wouldn't be the first time you've had to explain a certain social etiquette to them. They're well versed in most things from watching others, obviously a fast learner with a keen memory and ability to mimic - but sometimes, certain things like this has just somehow escaped them. A life of pure, cold solitude could do that, supposedly.
But do you really have to explain this to them? They look at you expectantly as if you do.
"Fine," you cave, mentally preparing for the havoc you're about to cause. "Kissing is a way to show affection. You've got a lot a sensitive nerves in the lips, and just pressing them against someone feels nice. I didn't really think about it right now, so you shouldn't either."
Morgan doesn't say anything for a bit, considering your words. Then they simply grasp your chin, briskly lean in, and press their lips against your forehead. They're being careful, analyzing the situation and the best approach like always. Regardless, your breath gets caught in your throat.
You can feel the fangs of their mandibles scraping across your skin, a faint but very stark reminder of the paralyzing venom that runs through them. It makes you freeze in place, gripping at their wrists on instinct, unsure if it's a search for safety or an act of silent plea.
Morgan hums lowly at your reaction, sensing unease and attempting to calm it by gently brushing their hands over your skin, like smoothing out tension. Oddly enough, it works. It always does. You relax a little bit, like any nervousness has just been deftly removed. Reassured, Morgan pulls away again.
"You're right. It does feel nice," they whisper, tilting your head up to meet their eye again, searching your face. "You did it first. So why are you suddenly so agitated?"
There's no point in lying to them point blank like this. The annoying arachnid can all but smell it. "Your fangs," you reply simply.
They blink. Then they chuckle fondly, cupping your chin and brushing a thumb over your cheek. "Sentry, even if I could pierce your skin on accident, nothing would happen without me wanting it to. If anyone gets to feel my venom it will always, always, be because it's on purpose."
You look them in the eye, trying to ignore the subtle way their voice curls around your senses. "And that's why you did it that one time?"
They give you a look like you're being silly and lean in again, forehead against yours, legs curling around your space. "Only on purpose, and when necessary. Unpleasant, but harmless. You know I'd never hurt you."
You hesitate. "Do I?"
"I have been trying to show you," Morgan offers with a sigh. They frown, thinking for a bit. "But if my kind of affection doesn't work, perhaps your kind will? Are there other ways you'd do this?"
You get a mental image of Morgan's lips on yours and your face flushes. You can tell if it's by disgust or need, and the contrast makes you squeamish. You know Morgan has honed in on an idea from the way their smile stretches. Crap.
"There is, isn't there?" they purr.
You just nod an affirmative. You can't even pull back. Do you even want to? There's just the red of their eyes in your mind, and their palms on your cheeks.
Morgan keeps the suffocating closeness, smiling as they lock your focus on them completely. "Show me."
Their face barely an inch from yours, they patiently wait for you to do the rest. They want you to come to them. And you do. You just can't help yourself.
You brush your lips against theirs, careful and soft, their low pleased chittering filling the space. Seems they like it. Encouraged, you lean further into them, drawn by their warmth and reassurance, reaching your hands up to rest against their chest. You can feel them smile through the kiss, and they angle themself to reach you a little better.
You pull back briefly for air, and Morgan follows you, pushing forward and seeking you out again like they're scared you'll vanish if they don't. Something curls around your hips and pulls you closer, you recognize the familiar strong grip of their pedipalps, and their arms slowly wrapping around your torso. Your feet leave the ground as they simply lift you up to meet them better without having to lean down. They lean into you with a contended sigh. Seems they really like this.
"Again," they whisper in your ear, almost sounding giddy. "Let me get it right."
Their lips are on yours again, soft but a little more insisting. As promised their fangs don't pierce your skin, but the prickling impression of danger mixed with the pure endorphin rush from this new sensation you can share with them sends a fire through your system. You can't help but fall back into them, their warmth encompassing both of you in an entirely new intoxicating way. They're a fast learner indeed.
You try to break off for air, and Morgan smiles at you, all fangs and intense staring, their chittering purr almost making your tremble.
"Don't run from me," they hum softly, their breath on your lips. "Trust me."
Their legs settle under you to help support your weight, and you completely relax into them. It's like you're floating. The only thing on your mind is Morgan. They're everywhere around you, against you, within you, pulling at the little connection lodged to your core.
Carefully you poke your tongue out, and perhaps that was a mistake, you're just giving them ideas, but it's just so nice to be in their arms, it always is. They hum, and gently grip the back of your head and push their tongue out against yours in turn. It's warm, so warm, and you just let it in your mouth to explore, messy and experimental. A low growl escapes them at the feeling, and they lean further in, seeking out the taste of you like a moth to a flame.
It seems Morgan doesn't even need the venom to paralyze you. They kiss you like they're prepared to swallow you whole.