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Baldur's Gate 3
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-Lucifer-
Bunny
🐰Yandere Bunny Lucifer, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor🐰 Mating Season GN - Reader NSFW
D
It's been a hot moment, eh? I moved out of my abusive household and settled somewhere new. Learned how to drive finally, got on and off new antidepressants and what not, made new friends, and fighting to get interviews from job applications. So while I procrastinate writing about why I should be hired, Imma write porn. Send me requests as you please, they are always open.
Warning! this contains: jerking off on clothes, scenting, cumplay.
Before the Pact
When you came down from the human realm and stood nearly as tall as Diavolo he sneered and rolled his eyes. 'get a load of this guy' was written all over his face. He truly wasn't intimidated by you whatsoever, you were a soft squishy human.
Before forming a pact with you he'd hate having to look up to speak with you. He'd always yell about you kneeling, how he was the one to look down on you, not the other way around.
In R.A.D he'll be forced to look at the back of your dumb head. If he cared enough he'd bitch about having your billboard of a back in the way. At least being behind you has its perks of being out of the professor's line of sight.
Sometimes he'd have daydreams on real bad days he'd daydream about finally knocking you on your knees and stepping on you while you begged for forgiveness along with Lucifer. They'd always turn around his mood.
Sometimes he'd get your clothes mixed up with Beelzebub's and if he'd find out he headed right to your room to catapult it at your face and tell you to wash your own damn clothes, even though it was honest mistakes. He's not helping some human who'd be gone in the blink of an eye.
After the Pact
Mammon's not sure when it happens but he does notice a shift in how he feels about you. One night as he's moaning and complaining about losing a bet, or getting found out, he saw you listening. And the way you looked down just to focus on him and him alone had his face heating up. He had to skedaddle away in order to collect his thoughts.
Soon enough he takes delight in being looked down upon, that way your attention was solely focused on him! It has him cackling on the inside when you turn your head away from the others to look at him and him alone!
He'd now borrow your clothes instead of just assaulting you with them. You're stylish enough, and with the trend of wearing larger shirts coming on, he feels entitled to your wardrobe. If you ask why just you and not the others. He refuses to answer.
When he's bored in class he'll just stare at you. eyes are naturally drawn to you since you stand out in the crowd and the professor still hasn't moved you. He doesn't like that. The idea of other demons looking at you makes him want to climb on top of you and yell at them. Climbing you? God damn... His face flushes as his mind spirals into series of him pushing you down onto the bed, having you between his knees, and even switching back and fourth with who is one their knees for who. HOO boy! He had to skip class that day, and it was real weird seeing you after he jerked off to you twice.
Whenever he can, he's going to try and use you as muscle, even if you aren't strong. Being tall is good enough sometimes. He tries to loop you into helping him cheat, helping him steal, whatever he can get away with. Half because of his need to exploit something, but half because Mammon actually enjoys your company and he wants to monopolize as much time as he possibly can.
Sometimes when he gets spooked by horror movies or otherwise he actually jumps into your arms, trying to crawl up as to escape whatever it was. Then after some time he might just try to stay in your arms as long as possible, even trying to perch himself on your shoulders like he was bird.
He always laughs at you that he can spot you easily in a crowd. He jeers and laughs but its honestly a relief and a curse. He likes knowing that if you get lost in a crowd he can easily radar your location. Though he doesn't like that his other brothers are just as easily able to pinpoint you. He was your first! He's the great Mammon!
Dirty Fantasies
He's beat his meat to you plenty of times before, so much so now that he's lost count. He never thought a human much taller than him would turn into his type, but here he is stumbling over himself each time you look down at him with a smile.
During those long busy nights where he comes home frustrated and needs some release he thinks of pushing you down over his pool table and settling into your guts as you bite down on a pool cue. Imagining your back and each little tremble. He'll fuck you nice and good. He'll even tug your cock nice and good so your toes curl so you'll cum as he's pulling you close and shooting into you and covering your back with hickies. In his dreams he can leave them on your neck even though he'll never be able to reach.
Perfect nights where he got to spend the entire day with you... perhaps you could even call it a date...? He'll head back to his room with one of the shirts he's stolen from you and bite into it as he smeared his cock with spit and chasing the idea of having you right there. Having you ride him would be wonderful. Your hands on him trying to keep steady as you fuck yourself on his cock. Seeing himself going inside you... He had to bite your shirt harder to keep him yowling out.
He finishes on your shirt. It's left in tatters by the end covered in cum, spit, sweat, and precum. He does this with a ton off your clothing. Sweaters, tees, even underwear is not safe from his clutches. He'd even resort to stealing them if need be.
Sitting on your foot and teasing the hell out of your cock is a fantasy that comes often to him. Swirling his tongue around your tip and watching you squirm and beg for more. It satisfies a deep primal want that his human is being greedy for attention, and he's going to edge you for as long as he possibly can till every nerve is of fire and he can smell the overwhelming sin pour from you.
He wants to scent you so bad as well. Leave his cum on your skin so your scents mix. He unconsciously does it by hanging off you all the time, but to be able to facial you and see you stand and wipe it off your face sends a shiver through his whole body. What about wiping it off with his thumb and shoving it into your mouth. Feeling your warm hole sucking on his thumb while he gets another load ready for your mouth this time. When you talk, he wants just a hint of his scent on your breath.
You can find the full writing with the NSFW section on my Patreon as well as the NSFW art and others here
Warning contains: Racism, Classism, Mentioned sex trade and abuse, death, Poverty and water and food insecurity, Smoking, Gambling, Gun violence
The motel stunk of mildew, heady pheromones, and cum from flesh pets. You wrinkled your nose in disgust. Seedy places like this were the worst. You tried to focus on anything else, the cracks in the plaster walls, the door numbers with chipped red ink, even the flickering pink neon lights irritated you. You had left this life behind years ago. The decay, the desperation, it should have been long gone by now. But here you are.
Your antennae twitch as you find the number, painted on crooked. Number seven at the Love Bug. You could feel movement behind the door. Rapid, hungry, two folk, and the room is leaking the same scents from all around.
Was he looking for his cheating partner? You were smart enough not to ask questions during jobs from someone far above your station, especially one offering a job to someone like you. You pull out a pen and jolt the number down along with the time and address of the Love Bug.
Mr. Bram was nothing if not thorough. Every scrap mattered to him. Who the softshell saw, where he lingered, how long he stayed. He already had a map of the kin’s usual haunts. Poor Mr. Bram, to have a softshell lover who happily goes to no-tell while he works for kinkind. So you waited. Listened. Wrote. Until movement stirred inside the room. So you listen, wait, and record until you feel movement from the room. You sidestep as fast as you can from the front door and loop around the corner.
Out comes two, a high caste moth with eyelashes likes feathers and the most beautiful dusty white fur. The other was your target, a large softshell man with four fleshy arms and a single compound eye. Just barely a softshell. One of his parents must have been a flesh pet for his body to be like that.
His superior was nuzzling her face into the flesh on his shoulder. Overly affectionate for someone of his station, maybe if he was a flesh pet you could understand, but someone as lowly as him? You note down her features, making sure to look her up later when you notice she’s gently pushing something into his hand. A wax paper, wrapped up neatly. He smiles wide and pulls her closer by the hip to plant a kiss on her cheek and whisper to her. Looks like a classic affair. You hear their overly sweet goodbyes to one another and ready yourself to follow. His head turns, you duck around the corner again.
He’s wary, but you don’t think he’s spotted you. You noticed his movement before his eyes could look over. You hold your breath and still.
“Lovely to see you again, my sweet Frankie,” her voice was more tender then you’d think.
“Till next time.” His voice was gruff, sounded older than he looked.
You hear the sound of her segmented legs walk off. It’s a moment before its followed by the clink of a lighter and the heavy scent of tobacco. Slipping half your face around the corner you find the wax paper unwrapped and a cigarette lit between his lips.
Was he selling himself for darts? If Bram wanted every move of this cockroach tracked, every bedmate logged, what was he to the silverfish? Perhaps Mr. Bram wasn’t as close to the softshell as he thought. But if he wanted the folk dead, why send you? Why not a merc or assassin?
Whatever the reason was, all that mattered was you got enough intel that Mr. Bram would pay you the water you so desperately needed. Didn’t matter.
—
Day Two of the tail and you’d already learned more than you wanted about the sleaze-bug. He hangs around a couple of bars around the city. All of them scummy drinking holes and he gets around. The amount of digging you had to do with all the bed hopping he’s done is ridiculous. You stayed up all night logging each folk that he came in contact with. Twenty seven, twenty seven cases of different folks. All of them unsavory sorts, most of them slept with him. The few that didn’t spoke casually with him, offered him drinks, one even shared his water with the roach.
He thrived in the dark corners of the city, thrived on the attention. Walking with a swagger of a bug who owns the very tin and gravel of the city. He’s most comfortable in the darkest places. Laughed the loudest, smiled the biggest, and smoked the most. A penchant for cigarettes, he smoked constantly. It’s lowbrow flaunting. One lit, one waiting, one tucked behind his ear with a childlike grin. A choking stretch of flesh that could fill anyone’s heart with contempt and rabid jealousy. You know he was doing it on purpose.
The third stop today, and he was whispering something to another softshell. Unable to hear, you crept closer. You froze.
It was quick, just a flick of his eyes but it cut across the street to they alley where you hid. Your breath stuck as your antennae pulled tight against your scalp.
And yet, he didn’t stop. Didn’t break his stride. Just leaned closer to his companion, cigarette like an amber lure in the darkness as he laughed. Like it was directed at you. Mocking you.
—
Day five you managed to map out his circuit. Mornings he took his time to get up unless he spent the night with some other folk. When he did warm some other bug’s bed he always came out reeking of fetish stink and tobacco.
Midday, he dwelt in gambling dens. Dice and cards were his go to and he always laugh even when he lost it all, like cash didn’t matter. He’d make a good show of it anyway, lighting another dart, exhaling smoke, and holding his hands up in surrender. The other bugs he surrounded himself with were lower caste, softshells, and lone flesh pets. Yet he seemed to be welcomed everywhere. Cheers would burst out when someone saw him duck into the underground hobbles.
Nights he’d either be in the doorless bars with layers of dust everywhere besides where regulars sat; or those tall stone buildings right on the edge of the noble caste district. He’s not picky about company. Male or female, anything in between, it doesn’t matter to him. He collects partners like a child collects shiny rocks. Many of them are repeat visitors. Rosilia, the noble caste moth, meets with Franz every other day. She clings to him as if he’s some irresistible flame. That fact leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, the fact he has the interest of two noble caste folk when you had to claw and scream for a chance to work under a noble caste.
Tonight you had followed him in that run down bar, The Watering Hole. It was a horrible little boozer with water and booze that reeked of piss, yet had an old world machine that was held together with spit and webbing. Soft music gently filled the place. The locals of this place call it cozy, but you’ve been around enough of these to know it was nothing special. Neon lights flickered, barely lighting the bar and leaving booths plunged in darkness. You take your seat there and smooth your antennae.
Night after night of cataloguing the folk that meet with this bed bug had left you fatigued, yet you use that as a mask. Almost everyone in this bar has the same worn face. Worked weary and raw, but Franz? He hasn’t worked at all, and you suspect he hardly every has. You groom yourself for a bit, calming yourself from the past few days since his back was turned.
A cloudy glass clacks in front of you. Water, two fingers deep. The bartender standing next to you is a malnourished flesh pet. “From the loud one at the bar.” Her soft finger pointed to your target who was shoulder to shoulder with an old wasp whose wings looked burned away.
You nod curtly, but don’t drink it. You don’t move at all. You watch from the corner of your eye as he lights a cigarette. The ember lights his lips in the darkness. You noted the time, trying not to pay any attention.
But you heard the chair shriek and out of the corner of your eye you see short antenna twitch at you. “Keep following me and I'll think your flirting with me.”
You look up from under your bangs, you see him with a hand on your table and leaning over slightly. He was well groomed, his beard smooth, hair combed yet styled messily. His smile showed teeth, eyebrows low with his pink tongue poking out.
You don’t reply, you match his gaze. The music drowns out as you both stare at one another. He gives up first and slips into the other side of the booth. As he settled he took a puff and smoke poured out on the table. He didn’t spare a glance at the glass, he went right for the eyes.
“It isn’t poisoned,” he tapped the ash into the broken mug that acted as an ashtray. “The bar owner hates dealing with bodies.”
He gives a shrug as he leans back in the booth, two arms going behind his head while his turned up lips go crooked. “Besides, I wouldn’t waste water like that.” His last free arm reaches over and pushes the glass further up. His compound eye flickers pink with the light.
“Name’s Franz, but you already know that, don’t you?”
So he knew about your tailing. Your shoulder’s tense and you shuffle. Your extra set of arms slowing dig into your jacket and pull out the snubnose you had hidden.
Both of you hang onto the silence stretching on, your finger rests beside the trigger, not on it just yet.
Franz speaks again. “Careful, I might enjoy you watching me.”
He seemed to light up as you felt your face scrunch up. “Drink it, don’t. It’s your choice. You’re free to do as you wish.”
His tone was light at the end, a slip of something genuine. What was he hinting at? You take the cup and slam the water back with one gulp. Metallic, and somewhat oily. But it was water. It felt good going down your throat despite the taste. You didn’t even realize how sore your throat was until the fluid cleared it.
“Good bug,” he whispered, low and gravely causing your eyes to go right back to him. “Relax. Like I said, nothing in it.”
You finally speak up. “Why?”
His eyebrow twist a bit. “Why not? Friends always share in water.”
“I am not your friend.”
He laughed and looks over to the bar. Not another soul is paying attention to the two of you now that Franz had left the spotlight. Few folks spoke, and those who did spoke softly just as you two were doing.
“That’s true.” Smoke rolled out along with his words. “But you don’t have to be friends to share in good fortune.”
You don’t replay so he keeps the conversation going, unaware of the gun pointed at him under the table.
“Someone sent you, right? Who?” The cigarette was nearly gone but he let it burn his fingers as he greedily took in as much as he could before leaving the dying end in the mug. “Debt collector? No you would have approached me for the cash already.”
He lists off more and more, you sit there eyeing him. If it wasn’t for the fact you’d had been following him you wouldn’t believe how many people were after him while being so calm. He notices your disinterest and slows. “Whoever it is, it doesn’t matter. It’s all the same in the end.”
It was your turn to arch your eyebrow. “Is it?”
A gun cracked and made the glass along the bar explode. The few patrons inside yelled, some scattered, some pulled out their own weapons. Franz blinked as two more shots hit just to the right of his head. You ducked and pointed the snub-nose to the door hiding in the booth. Four folk were dashing in, two of them aiming over at you, or more likely Franz.
Franz slid next to you like oil, his head level with yours looking at the offenders as they find cover of their own. “Bad timing, huh?” One of his arms was stretched over your head as he kept balance under the table and against the booth’s seat. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
He moved with grace, slipping away and moving underfoot. Crawling across the dark floor even you lost sight for a moment before another shot hit right next next to your hand, metal slicing your palm as it shattered. You steady and focus on the one firing at you before shooting. You have six bullets in this firearm. It’s made for self defense, not shoot outs.
It hits the bug in the shoulder causing them to stagger. The one next to him sudden fell to the ground. You duck back under the booth’s seat and look over. Franz had dragged the second man down, hand snagged the ankle of the other Softshell. His chin was bleeding, he had landed on it and his gun was by the roach’s foot.
Franz didn’t take the weapon. Kicking with the back of his heel, sent it clattering over to a flesh pet who was trembling before they saw their chance and took it. They shot wildly at the door. The disfigured wasp manged to shoot one in the eye, making the bug drop in place.
You see the silhouette fleeing, the broad back of Franz. Then the scrambling figure of the bug he yanked down. You sneer but jolt and look over to the shooter nearest you recovered, rifle up. You ducked, pointed your snub-nose around the edge of the booth, and fired blind. The shot was too close to your ear, ringing inside your skull, but the bullet caught him in the knee. He screamed and went down hard, until the bar owner stood up from behind the bar with a sawed off and splattered the offender’s head all over the floor.
The last shooter seeing he was outnumbered stepped back, holding up one hand in surrender while the other still clutched his gun. He only manged to step back once before the flesh pet dinged him in the gut. A yell of pain echoed out and as if on instinct he raised his gun only to be hit by both the wasp and bar owner. Again in the gut, and once neck. Blowing the retreating man to pieces.
Bits of chitin stuck to the wall in wet chunks, dripping down the tin. The bar stank; ichor, booze all boiling together. The bar was a ruin of smoke and gore, ichor pooling across the floorboards and soaking into the sawdust. Patrons crept out from their corners, wide-eyed and quiet, as though speaking too loud might draw more gunfire through the door.
The bar was a ruin of smoke and gore, ichor pooling across the floorboards and soaking into the sticky floor. Buzz bugs crept out from their corners, wide-eyed and silent, as though speaking too loud might draw another fight.
You scanned the wreckage, breathing through your mouth. One of them already voided their bowls and you covered your nose as you tucked away your gun. You scanned the wreckage, breathing through your mouth to avoid the stench as much as you could despite tasting it
Two less bullets. Not exactly ideal, but you live another day. As you bend down to pick up the casings you pause at the sound of a cough. You turn to find the bar owner glaring at you.
“Franz said you were trouble.” His accusation was rough, like it was dragged through gravel. The flesh pet peeked over to watch the scene. “Seems like he was right.” he spat it out as he looked over his ruined bar.
“I don’t know who it is your working for or why, but I don’t care. Pay for the damage and get out.”
“Why do I have to pay?” you retort. “You should know well enough that Franz has debt collectors after him.” You let your voice hiss out. Squaring your body in case it got ugly.
“Because my bar is filled with shit. Franz doesn’t drag his problems into bars. He’s smart enough to keep it outside.” He was cold, controlled, but you didn’t lower your guard at all. “He came in earlier. Said you had been poking around and looking for something. Low and behold look at what happened.”
Everyone was staring now. Hushed and half hiding back in their cover again. The fucker framed you. Gazing around and seeing that disabled wasp giving you a stink eye. This wasn’t going to be a battle you would win.
You sigh and dig out your coin purse.
—
Day seven, the last day you were hired to stalk the nefarious cockroach, and all you really needed. His stomping grounds remained the same even after the shoot out. You tried not to let the hole burned into your picket bother you, but of course it did. You could probably ask Mr. Bram for the cash Franz tricked out of you. From your conversations he was a kind bug; polite, graceful, well-spoken, and even dashing. He was everything a noble caste should be and more, what you dreamed of being around since you were a child.
Today, after skittering around and picking up broken glass and pocketing it, Franz found himself in one of the other bars he hung about. SilkSoothed, a higher caste frequented bar. Its leans more towards selling companionship then just drinks. Many a flesh pets are here to sell themselves, many are there because they have no other choice.
You sit far away, paying extra to sit in the higher caste area. Its a small balcony right above where Franz is treading. The tables are sat with glass vases and candles. Silk table covers are delicately laid over polished wood tables. One of the nicer places in the city for sure, but not as nice as places Ascendant’s. You can only dream of the luxuries they covet.
Peering over the railing you notice a smaller flesh pet. He was younger, probably just reached adulthood. He had traits of a Woodlouse, small, almost nothing to him but skin and bones. You were about to brush him off until you saw that look.
Hollow eyes. Pupils would narrow and flick at every bit of movement every flick of light and never seemed to settle. Always looking, waiting for something to lash out. His lips chapped so deep they had raw red line yet pale and blue. His eyes heavy with dark, pronounced bags. his jaw was tight and he was pulling his fragile limbs close to take up as little space as possible.
Sure, flesh pets were a drain on resources, they needed too much in order to just function and provided almost nothing besides companionship. They were pretty to look at, but couldn’t work long hours like shellbacks, couldn’t lift as much, they could hardly do a thing… So why did you feel such pity for the dregs of society?
A shadow fell across the table below. The roach. He slid into the seat opposite the Woodlouse without asking, cigarette already curling smoke in the candlelight. His grin was lazy, voice low enough that you had to strain your antennae to catch it and filter out all the other noises.
“What kind of music do you like?” It was so causal.
The young Louse didn’t speak, he twitched and fixed on Franz. His gaze trembled, pupils now blasted out wide, while the rest of his body stayed stiff as a board.
“Mm, I guess you’d like Down tempo… or maybe freestyle?” He was leaning back just as Franz did with you and was blowing smoke all over the table. You sighed. More cataloging you’d have to do after he sleeps with the flesh pet.
He taps ash into the vase meant for the candle, it made you grind your teeth but the flesh pet finally blinked. His eyes focused on the splash of ash all over the bottom and sides, ruining its flawless shine. Franz grinned as he watched the dust settle. “Hate it when they try to keep things too clean,” he said, as if to himself. “Makes you forget what we are.”
The young bug doesn’t answer but you can see him swallow.
Franz didn’t press him for a reply either. He yaps as he always does. “You know what else I hate?” Franz murmured taking another drag and blowing it at the vase, “How they teach you the names for yourself you can say your own? Water guzzler, softie, burden, all that kind of shit. You hear it long enough, you start believing it.”
His arms are laying across the back of the chair as he plays with this cigarette leisurely. “It rubs me the wrong way. They act as if living is a crime. Like you picked the body just to spite them.” The bug in front finally blinks and his gaze looks up to Franz, his jaw loosening ever so slightly.
“They’ll tell you you’re the problem, you’re the reason others are suffering or doing better based on their own needs. They need you to believe it. Keeps the gears of society turning.” A small huff of laughter.
The young bug’s voice came out like a grub who scraped his knee. “I don’t want to be a burden… or be useless. I don’t want to suffer.”
Franz’s grin didn’t change, still as nonchalant. He tapped the last of his cigarette into the vase and let the ember break off and simmer at the edge of the ivory candle. “Nobody does. Everyone wants to feel important, loved and appreciated. But that’s the scam, isn’t it?” He leaned forward, voice dropping just enough to cut through the din. “They build their world on pain. The nobles and ascendants drink clean water ‘cause folk died in the landslide digging out the underwater caves. They sleep on cotton and silks that other bugs farm on a slave’s wage. That’s the trade. That’s the cost of being comfortable.”
The Woodlouse’s hands curled tighter in his lap, like he was holding on to keep from cracking.
Franz went on, look up at the ceiling. “And so what? You’re allowed to be a burden if you want. You didn’t ask for this life. So what if you never amount to a thing? You’re allowed to live how you want, not for the fat bastards who live off misery. It’s peaceful that way.”
The bug opened his cracked lips but hesitated. A beat pasted before he finally spoke. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I like to hear myself talk. Everyone does.”
Soft split lips let out a breathy laugh. “They do.”
Your pen felt heavy in your hand and you realized that you didn’t write a single thing. You feel a little sick.
—
You stand before the blinding brilliance of onyx colored stone. A monolith that stood unyielding to the city of scrap iron and piss stained alleyways. It looks as it has never seen ruin, glimmering the midday sun with an intensity unmatched. One of the few monoliths every bug in the city looked up to, most with envy. Its where you’ve always wanted to be, where you deserved to be, even if it was to serve under your betters. To be known, to rise above what you came from and show those who stepped on you, betrayed you, spat on everything you worked for.
Here, here is where it would change. Yet you couldn’t help but hold the folder with a grip that felt like it was slipping from your fingers with each passing second. Was it the sheer radiance of this place? No, something told you there was poison in your mind now.
You stepped toward the doors, where two folk waited. Shellbacks. Towering, broad-shouldered, their carapaces ridged like jagged stone. Their faces were stoic, only letting those dark eyes gaze down upon you without so much as a twitch. You met their gaze with the same intensity. They knew better than to ask, they knew why you were there. They simply slide off, to the side, and settled their guns at their hips.
A shiver runs up your back and it almost makes it to your antennae. The way they stand out of your way. It makes you feel important. Your gait is filled with pride, each step fills you with jubilation. The walls were polished, the cleanest things you’ve ever seen. The candle light gleams off of every surface as soft music plays through the halls. It feels surreal, heavenly as you make your way to the room.
The doors ahead were gargantuan and guarded by more shellbacks. Oak blackened with age, carved with spirals and lines that pulse with a fluctuating light. As if it were veins under flesh. The patterns are intricate yet psychedelic, beautiful none the less. The shellbacks stuck their hands into square holes and tensed as the doors rumbled open and shook the ground beneath you.
The sheer size of the room revealed to you stole all the air from your lungs. A vaulted ceiling rose into shadow, chandeliers of wrought black iron hanging heavy with crystal, dripping candlelight like molten gold. The floor was marble, polished to such a shine it perfectly reflected the world above it. Two rooms in one, dazzling and disorienting.
You stepped inside. Your footsteps echoed sharp in the silence, swallowed by the vastness of this alien luxury. The air was cold, even more so than when night fell. It bit at your carapace, sank into your flesh. Yet, you found yourself relishing it. The chill felt… sublime.
Your antenna stood up as you heard the clicking of chitin legs. From around a corner, he appeared.
Bram.
His body carried the elegance of what a noble caste should be. Pointed antennae rising from his scalp like a crown with perfect geometry, every angle sharp, deliberate. A silverfish segmented Thorax rested behind him just above his hips, gliding behind him with every step
His face was sleek, proportioned perfectly, carapace polished until it shone like wet stone. He didn’t stride so much as flow forward, a creature designed to remind you of your place. Even the shellbacks outside looked crude next to him. Just his body alone looked as if it was designed to remind you of your place. To show you that you were beneath him.
Bram’s height was far greater than you expected. Noble castes are giant, but seeing such a slender noble caste to loom larger than his guards was enough to make you hold in your breath.
“Ah,” he said softly, his voice carried without effort. “The courier.”
He didn’t raise his arms in welcome. He held out his hand expectantly. You thought he would take you to his office but you didn’t have time to dwell. You nod and bow your head and you hand him the folder.
Segmented fingers pluck it from your hand. You keep your head down as the silence ate you up from the inside. Seven days of filth on those papers. Franz’s habits, his bedmates, his regular routes. You only heard the sound of each page turning. The silence was choking, deafening, broken only by the soft rasp of paper. It was as if you were in a landslide and the rubble was weighing down and crushing your body and lungs.
“Mm,” he spoke at last. “Adequate.”
Adequate?
Your chest tightened. Days of sleepless nights, gunfire, working your scales off to find all the information available on these folk, from their parents all the way down to the alleyway their mother pushed them out in. Surely he read about the trouble Franz gave you? Impressed by the sheer amount of information you were able to provide in a week all by yourself? A week of nearly killing yourself in several different ways. All that, just to be okay? To be just enough?
You dared a glance up. Bram hadn’t even slowed, his segmented fingers placing the folder on a side table that looked far nicer than anything you’d ever seen
“My lord,” you began, forcing your voice steady, “I gathered every trace, every contact. His lovers, his debts, even the alleys he-”
Bram waved a hand, silencing you without even looking. It wasn’t even harsh, just… dismissive
“You did what was asked,” he said, tone even, as if discussing the weather. “Payment is on the table at the front entrance. You can go now.”
You gulp and scramble over. There, on a small side table near the threshold, sat your reward: a plain canvas bag. Inside, three vials of crystal-clear water caught the candlelight, glimmering like jewels. Beneath them, a handful of folded bills.
That was it.
Tossed scraps like a stray.
“M-My lord, surely you saw that i had to pay for the damage to-” You were cut off again.
“Why is that any concern of mine?”
It’s true, you were the one who mess up… but you’d hoped it he would understand or at least tip for the extra effort. No, its presumptuous to think that.
“Like I said, you may go. I’ll put this with the rest of them.”
Your blood froze, your throat clenched trying to prevent the bile from coming up. You were just one of many? One to be put in a pile. How many others had clawed and bled and risked their lives, only to have their work end as nothing more than paper in a stack?
“Surely, if this isn’t satisfactory for you, another noble house-”
“If you wish for patronage from other houses, you are free to beg for it. But do not expect my endorsement. Our agreement has come to and end. You can take your leave.”
You left the way you came. The shellback guards at the door didn’t so much as twitch as you passed — you weren’t worth their notice now.
Outside, the midday sun hit you like a hammer. The brilliance of the onyx stone behind you made the rest of the city look smaller, dirtier, more pathetic than ever. Scrap walls sagged, piss-stained alleys stank of rot. And yet… somehow, it all felt more honest than what you’d just walked out of.
And still, your chest burned.
You heard that voice in your head, smug and lax… folk died in the landslide digging out the underwater caves… silks that other bugs farm on a slave’s wage.
You looked back once at the black stone tower, sunlight blazing across its perfect face. Not a single scar. Not a crack. All while the city around them rots. When had they done anything for the people. That’s what you had been told. They keep the water flowing, keep order, continue to provide materials for the cities of the world, but when did they last do something for the people rather then the city as a whole?
Maybe Franz was right.
—
You had simmered in your apartment for a few days, recuperating from the draining week all while festering in your thoughts. The water vials sat untouched on the counter, refracting light in mocking brilliance. Each time you looked at them you saw Bram’s polished carapace. It made you sick. You truly had been poisoned, but the more you thought about it the more everything crashed around you, and made more sense.
The thought of it all made you itchy. Yet despite all your work, you couldn’t help but focus on the others instead of ourself. The rest of them, how many broke their backs trying to do the same thing? How many of them weren’t as lucky as you being in a bar shoot out with other armed folk present? How many clawed from scraps, hoped for the same before ending up in a pile?
Maybe it as because of your job, maybe it’s become personal, but you couldn’t stand not knowing.
You stood up from the ratty nest of blankets in your bed and picked up your clothes and haphazardly threw them on as you slipped out into the night.
It took days but the rumors came fast once you started looking. Then as you did your checking, rumors when cross checked became fact. Bram had been sending his men after Franz for years. Casualties were rare. The last one had been over a year ago, until the Watering Hole. Until you. Not to mention those agents missions were always written off as debt collection, thievery, suspected smuggling. But that wasn’t the case.
Franz is a tricky sort, managing to evade them most of the time or slipping away after getting them caught up in something else. You knew it wasn’t a debt, that much was sure. Wasting resources like that wasn’t a good investment. Maybe old grudges, but the more you dug, the less it made sense. There were gaps that didn’t line up.
Then when you met an old fleshpet in her tent, she spoke seeing them together. One night, long ago, Franz and Bram had crossed paths. The details were hazy, but she told you of the clubs she worked at she had seen them leading into the private rooms. With her expertise she knew it was sex. You never expected that, but the timeline added up. After that night, Bram had become more watchful. Something happened between them that Bram could not ignore.
But it wasn’t enough. You needed something solid, something you could track and find the source of why. Then you started digging in places you weren’t supposed to. Old mission slips tucked in official offices, notes passed between shellbacks too drunk to remember to burn them. You pieced them together one by one, cross-checking dates and names, your desk drowning in scraps of parchment, smeared ink, and stolen paper. Hellfire burned you, scorched the earth to keep you walking. To remind you of the shame and weight of the other he had burned as well.
Then you found the latest one. A slip marked with Bram’s own crest, requisitioning men, weapons, and transport under the code you had finally deciphered. Using all the notes from others just like you they finally manged to stitched together a plan. But the amount of firepower being supplied this time?
Your nails dug into the parchment, antennae buzzing with a pressure you couldn’t shake. You knew those coordinates, you had recorded them yourself. Knew the narrow alleys and ruined stone of that sector.
It was a kill box.
You folded the slip and felt the heat in your chest cool into something darker than the need for the truth.
—
The sun was beating down that day. Hot enough to make even the most cold blooded animal sweat. Franz was exactly where the notices said he’d be, right in the throat of the alley that funneled into collapsed tin and concrete filled with old rotting and discarded wooden barrels. It was too quiet, too still. His cigarette burned like a tiny lighthouse. He was digging around in the dirt. A bad habit of his and grinned as he fished out a cigarette butt.
“Get up,” you command.
He stilled and looked up, his eyes squinting lightly as if he was happier seeing you, “If you wanted a date, you only had to ask.”
You stare, unblinking. “Up," you repeat.
As if catching the edge in your tone he stared for a moment and stood up straight and one arm scratched his back. “You sound tense,” he put his weight mostly on one leg. “And I don’t think its at me, is it?”
You don’t have time to answer as you both hear the sounds of heavy footfall. You square yourself as seven folk enter the alley, rifles pointed at the two of you. The line parted like the seas with mechanical precision, boots grinding dust into the packed earth. Bram tread lightly between them, almost gliding as he stood at least a bug taller than his men. He was unhurried, yet his gaze held nothing but contempt as he gazed at Franz.
Franz on the other hand seemed far too calm. He posture handed changed in the slightest and he was scratching his chin. “You really like bringing an audience BB?”
The Noble’s compound eyes narrowed, brows pulled low and tilted. You stood in the middle of it all. As if standing at the edge of a forest fire and a boiling lake.
“Do you know when to stop? Truly, are you not tired of this game?”
“You’re the only one playing BB. I don’t want to be part of it, yet you keep dragging everyone else into your problems.”
Finally the noble castes eyes drifted to you. Finally acknowledging your presence. “Why are you here? Your job is done. Do not tell me you have fallen for this worthless waste of flesh and exoskeleton?”
You manged to glare up at him. Never in your life did you think you’d be gritting you teeth at what you thought were the most majestic and perfect folk, but here you were. Franz spoke before you could. “Wouldn’t be the first, huh?”
Does all this stem from a regret of sleeping with Franz? Bram’s antennae twitched once, sharp as a knife flick. The frown he gave was enough for even his men to stiffen.
You felt the rifles tighten in their aim, every soldier waiting for his signal.
“All this effort. All these years. You sure it’s me?” A smugness rolled out from behind you.
The noble caste did not answer him. His voice, when it came, was directed at you instead. It was low, even, authoritative. “You think standing beside him makes you brave? It makes you a fool.” His towering body slowly leans over, his shadow stretching over the two of you. “For what reason do you wish to be by a roach who benefits nothing but himself. A drain on the already scare resources. Food, water, bodies, time. A vessel that poisons whatever he touches.”
“He doesn’t live under your system. You fucked someone who doesn’t conform to your thought process and that got under your skin.”
Bram's eyelids opened more and you could feel the tension in the air. Pheromones that wanted to choke you, but you breathed steady and kept your gaze even with the creature you once felt was your better.
His voice was much colder now. “You won’t be able to work in this city again. Or the next city. Everywhere you go, they will know your traitorous nature. You will suffer, then you will die. Not a single soul will offer you charity.”
“Everyone suffers, what makes you special?” Your voice spits out like venom.
You heard a low, delighted sound from Franz behind you, but it was swallowed by the weight your decision. Bram leaned forward, his frame fully blotting out the sun, his shadow falling over you like the shroud of a reaper come to claim its due. His compound eyes caught the light in fractured shards, each glimmer a spark of a newfound hatred for the both of you. Contempt, raw vitriol dripped from his expression. In that moment, standing beneath his looming shadow, you threw sand into his eyes.
Bram yelled, stumbling back, and nearly crushing the shellbacks below. In the chaos you yanked out the bottle you had stashed with two storm matches taped to the side. With the flick of the wrist you light and toss.
It struck the barrels you had filled a few days ago with sawdust, lint, and old cooking grease. The inferno was instantaneous. The ignition blew your hair back and singed the noble caste’s legs and hair. The other bugs shielded themselves while avoiding getting crushed. You grab a hunk of concrete and throw it at the barely standing building to the right. The rest of the tin and concrete crumbled.
Your hand grabs Franz’s despite him already making a bolt for it and the two of you dash through the opening as age old dust scatters around. Your eyes burn, but you trust your plan. Memorizing the layout of this old half collapsed building was trivial after the few weeks you’ve had. Your feet beat on the old metal, yet they fall in rhythm with Franz.
You can feel his heartbeat in his palms. Its heavy, fast, just as your sure yours was. Never in your life did you think you could stand your own against a noble caste, but you did it! Everything felt light, more exhilarating.
—
The two of you end up on one of the main roads. Other folk passing by all at different paces. Folk hauling crates, lingering in doorways, hawkers crying out from broken stalls—but all of them keep moving. Only you and Franz are still.Only you two are stopped. you turned, expecting Franz to be gone but he’s already recovered, heavy eyelids but a tilt of his head and the flesh of his mouth curved to show a tooth.
“That’s a whole lot of work trying to save someone you clearly don’t like.”
You wanted to hiss that he should at least thank you, but he was right. This irritating, messing, smug bug had been on your nerves for the last few weeks. You had hardly known him a month and you went from wanting to smash his head into the dirt to saving his life and putting your entire future at risk. Why?
“Surely you should have known not to get into situations like that. They were planning on killing you.” You snap.
Yet he seems so calm despite it all. He scratches behind his ear. “He doesn’t actually want to kill me.”
Your eye twitched. “Yes, he did! The orders he sent out had shoot to kill when instructed.”
“But he never does. We’ve done this little song and dance for years. He’ll lock me up without food and water. Beat me, and try to have me admit my way of thinking is flawed. It’s some kind of dominance thing. Like he doesn’t like to be told he’s wrong. Then again, most of those type don’t like being wrong.” It was so causal, so ordinary to him it was if he was describing the taste of toast. Just what in the hell is this bug?
“That’s horrible…”
He blinks and looks at you dead in the eyes, was he surprised by that? Just how long had he been living like this for him to be shocked at the truth of it all. “Horrible things happen. It’s a consequence of living. Especially the way I do.”
“And you think that’s okay?” You can’t help but snapping out. “You think you’re living like a martyr or something? At least have some self respect.”
He shrugs “Not sure, haven’t really thought that through yet. Just figured If he’s too busy with me, he can’t go around ruining other hardworking bug’s lives you know?” The clamor of the street dulls, fading beneath his words.“And it seems like you’ve got enough self respect for the both of us. Or maybe its just an ego thing?”
Blood rushed to your face and you felt it get hotter. Why did you help him? You felt like an idiot, yet even mad enough to stick with the conversation. “Ego? Would it kill you to at least thank me. Risking my hide for a bug that doesn’t even care about his own-”
Hot lips pressed against your. His lips tasted like smoke and scotch and you can feel just a bit of his beard on your lips. The way his move against yours his hypnotic its drawing you in as your tongue pushes into his mouth and he sucks on it. Its a long breathless kiss, and when he finally pulled back leaving your tongue hanging out slightly and a thick strand of spit to split from the two of you.
“There’s my thanks.” He licks his lips, tasting what remains of you.
You pant, feeling the aroused heat burning your face, ears, and down to your shoulders. You shutter and glare, grabbing his collar and yanking him closer. “Who said that was enough?”
“Then allow me to repay you thoroughly.”
—
You were face down on the thin fabric, your antenna spread wide along with your limbs as the scent of smoke made your delicate organs twitch. It annoyed you but you were far too spent.
The silence hung in the air for a while just like the smoke in this stagnant room. Both of you were content for the moment. It wasn’t until you found the energy to speak did you say a word of what you had on your mind since the Silksoothed.
"Why do you let all this shit happen to you. Why do you live like you do?”
“Twisted as it sound, I think about death a lot. I ain’t scared of it, but I am worried about history forgetting me. I know it’ll happen at some point, I ain’t no one important. But I want my time on this sandy shit-hole to mean something. Ya know?” You turn your head to see Franz playing with the fake gold beads that hand around the sides of the bed.
“There’s so much suffering out there, why contribute? I guess I just want to leave this place better than when I got here, even in little ways. But charity ain’t going to do much when you’ve got nothing to your name. Best I can do is not run those rat races that hurt the little bugs. Who knows maybe it’ll inspire some folk not to let others walk all over them.” He wasn’t look at the beads, not really. His eyes seemed far away, distant. You wondered just exactly went on in that head of his. Those weirdly clashing ideas of wanting a better world while at the same time.
You wondered what he’ll do after this. Probably go back to his normal life. But it seems you weren’t the only one with those thoughts on your mind.
“What will you do after this? Bram is likely to put a bounty on your head. Hard living a life when a noble caste puts a reward out for your head.”
You snort. Its true, an event like that would ruin any bug’s life. But you were prepared for that, done the math in your head at least a hundred times. “You know, a bounty means my name gets out there. More then anyone’s done for me. Gave me a kick in the ass. Made me realize me and all kind of other bugs are disposable.” You showed your teeth in the widest grin you can mange. All the pent up rage and disappointment are gone now.
The pain of growing up like you did with folk all around you beating you down, spitting hateful words that made you want to climb to the top to spit back on them. Something else burned the fire of your soul now.
“So folks who never knew my name are suddenly going to learn it. It isn’t the worst thing in the world.”
His feelers lift; he slants you a lopsided grin, eyes squinting with jest“Never took you as an optimist.”
“Opportunist. Big difference. I was around bugs who had bounties on them their whole lives. I know how to live like that. It’s been a bit, but you never forget where you came from.”
He laughs, the ash building on the end of his cig fell from the force. “True.” He dusted the ash off himself and onto the floor. “Bram gave you a gift it seems. I hope you enjoy it. I really do.”
“Thanks, make sure not to drag me into anymore shit, alright? otherwise I won’t let it go so easily.”
“Don’t say that, just makes me want to trouble you more.”
you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Bastard.” But he just laughed to himself.
After an hour or so Franz stood, He found his damaged pants and held the scraps of his shirt. “I’ll have to get one from lost and found.”
“They have one here?” Your nose curls in disgust.
“course, Someone ripped my shirt. I have soft flesh, I can’t let it burn up.”
You nodded as he pulled the fabric back up. “Try not to die stupid out there.”
“Try not to live scared.”
Shout out to my patreons for supporting these posts
For the writing request may I suggest yandere plant person hybrid using vines to keep darling in place while stimulate them with it? The more darling weep, wail or any kind of fluid come out of their cute little hole, the more nutrients their lover is gonna get. Oh my, darling already tap out? No worries, a little natural aphrodisiac here and some love pollen there will surely do the trick... Now open wide~
Thank for coming to my TeD talk 😎
I play this back as background noise to help me sleep. Thank you.
Yandere Plantperson with GN-Reader NSFW
it was a mistake to go into your garden during Bloom Season. You had heard the stories of plants gaining sentience during Bloom Season, but you never thought it would happen in your backyard. Not with your prized Jacob's Latter.
Now? Now that precious plant you grew from seed to award-winning plant was giggling as several vines were balancing you as others began to peel off your cloths. "Darling, why are you squirming so much?" their face was one full of genuine concern as they lay on a bed of the same tendrils.
This thing... that grew from your beloved flower bed all the way from teeny seed is now something that mocked a humanoid figure. His head was filled with leaves and those beautifully sown deep violet flowers that you cooed over each time. Skin a verdant green and shiny like a new sprout. Their legs, however, were long and far too thin coming down to points that look like a leaf just about ready to emerge from the stem.
Now, your beloved plant was nestling vines between your legs as you cried out for help. They pouted as those vines charioted them over to your desperate form. "Why are you squirming? I'm just trying to help." Their tone was high, overly sweet.
As you struggled, the vines refused to be pushed away and instead tore the fabric like rice paper. Try as you might to gasp, you were stopped when one of the tendrils was violently thrust in your mouth. Floral and overly sweet, like lavender syrup. Gagging only makes it slip deeper into your mouth and you can feel your throat bulge and the world spins.
"Come on now. Drink, it's very good for you. You always fed me and treated me tenderly." The huge stems carry the humanoid plant closer, and you can see its bright, overly large eyes beaming down with a smile much too big for its face. "You're so warm inside."
Some kid of fluid welling up in your esophagus. It was too much, and you try to cough but some flies out of your nose as your body wildly convulsed for air. You end up gulping that overly sweet down more and more.
Yet you find yourself relaxing around it. Muscles lax around the leaking intrusion, and a heat and want builds in your lower regions. Your hips unconsciously move, trying to find friction. Shame makes your face hot, but you can't control yourself, your body has a mind of its own.
Your prized plant smiles and is lifted ever closer till they're right beside you and their hands grope the globe of your ass and massage it. It coaxes you to flinch and lift your head up causing more fluid to pour down your throat.
legs shake, skin burns, and nerves feel like circuits going into overdrive. your eyes roll into the back of your head and your entire body spasms with electric ecstasy.
The laugh doesn't even register until they're halfway through. "Sweet pea! I'm trying to feed you and you're just leaking it all out again." Cold lips trail up your spine but they feel far too much like relief than they should. "Come now. Lets fill you back up again. And I'm not going to stop until you gulp down as much as you need."
Hands rub up and down your body and you can't help but push into them. The cool friction brings unwanted, yet desperately needed satisfaction. Even if I have to fill every hole you have."
they circle around and look into your eyes. they lay on their stomach and kick their feet as their throne of vines allows them to move to be face to face with you. Gentle hands grasp your cheeks and rub circles into them.
Your vision clouds as something is blown into your face. you cough, spit, and wheeze as your vision goes pink and you hear the soft laughter in front of you.
What about a yandere drider playing on their predator/prey kink with their darling?
Bites, chews, and swipes at anyone who tries to take away my treat. Driders my Beloved. (I know they don't have genitals but in my delusional world they do, they are just sterile)
Also me: this is going to be a short request so i can get back into tumblr writing- almost 3k words later
TW: contains gross content such as: (feeding reader pre-chewed food, drider licking reader's sweat), kidnapping, delusional love, blood, death, non-con, edging, pred/prey, mentions of impregnation via eggs.
Yandere Drider with GN-Reader Pred/Prey Kink NSFW
Oh, they relish feeling your weight on their web. How perfectly you bounce, the most satisfying of jiggling. He could feel it under his legs for days and never grow tired of it. The constant reminder of your presence was an intoxicating comfort. Like an alcoholic's first sip in the morning.
He smiled when he felt how much you were squirming today. his hands cupped your cheeks as he squished them and cooed. "You seem so excited this morning, my beloved moth." He loved how soft your cheeks were. How they smushed your face and made you somehow a million times cuter. "Are you excited about your bath? Is it because I found that nice floral soap? I know, what a lucky find. Flies usually never hold such treasures... not that I mind your natural scent." His teeth nipped along your neck, never grabbing flesh but excited chittering along it.
You freeze. You never take your chances, flinching or fighting against him when he's this close. You've learned over your time trapped here, so long as you don't fight against him too much, he's unwilling to hurt you. He even goes as far as to pamper you as much as an abomination of a Drow can. Though, you hate those humiliating feeding sessions of force-feeding. You dare not think about the horrid things that he spat down into your mouth and now churn in your stomach.
He washes you every other day. His webs puppet you like a marionette each time. Keeping your arms up and having you move at his measure with the simple movement of his legs. You shutter as you remember the ice-cold water drips down your body and his face is pressed against your inner thigh and looking up at you with such reverence. His many eyes watching the water cascade down your body. How his warm tongue would lap some up and his mouth would chitter and softly whine.
Lately he's been wrapping you up less. The last... bathing session... you noticed you could have slipped out. Yet you didn't. No. You had to buy your time. Wait for a perfect moment. Maybe then you could see your friends and family again.
Your captor had finished his appreciation and fully plucked you from his web, hiking you over his shoulder and rubbing the back of your thighs. You got front row seats to watch his spider lower half crawl gracefully out of his nest and through the lightly illuminated cave.
There, in the gemstone lit cave, was a softly glowing lake. It is pure blue, even more so than the sky at noon. He sets you down gently as he gently kisses your wrists and braids a web around them both before hanging you up.
"Oh, my beloved moth. You look ethereal. Your beauty simply soils me so." He says that with a hushed voice as the silk robes he forced me in opens in the front. The web falls open. Framing my vulnerable body in the knit strands that now glow in the cyan light of the water and crystals. "I'm so happy I can hold you in my arms. That I'm the only one who sees you like this." his hands go from your hips and up and sliding so they are just under your chest before rubbing circles just under your nipples.
You shutter as his freezing fingers graze over your flesh. His teeth clack as he lets go and slowly starts cupping water with his hands to pour the ice cold liquid down your front. You jolt at the feeling, curling up as much as you could.
The drider presses his face to your stomach. Rubbing it against your twitching flesh. "I'm sorry it's so freezing, my beloved Moth. The colder months have arrived." Had you really been here that long? It was early summer when you were swept away by this beast. "I'll figure out something to make sure you're more comfortable. I wish to spoil you, just as much as you spoil me." He was grinning ear to ear as he said that. Pointed jagged teeth on display, making it feel more like a threat than he probably meant, but it terrified you regardless.
"Let us lather you up, I can't wait to scent you. To have your natural smell mix with lavender? It will simply be Divine." He turns to that makeshift cabinet of a web to fish out the goods he's pulled off of corpses. Now is your chance.
You, with all your saved up energy, yank yourself free from the few strands and start running before you even hit the ground. Your feet catch jagged stones and pain shoots all the way up your spine to the back of your head. Yet you keep running. You hear his shrill voice fading, "Beloved?!"
He's faster than you. But with a head start, you hope you can get to the outside where you can shake him off in the sunlight. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Tears are clouding your vision as those odd crystals provide just enough for you to know when to turn or leap.
"Oh darling moth, I didn't know you wanted to have some fun!" your heart all but stopped. Pupils shrink as they dart over to the drider who is keeping pace right next to you with a delighted expression. "You really want to take this to the next step, do you? Okay!" his face was flushing and both sets pedipalps rubbing together.
His oral Pedipalps jittered and spread just as wide, making his maw look more like an open wound with maggots instead of teeth. His eight eyes wide open. He was drooling. "I'll find you just like you want." His voice too husky and wanting for your liking.
Then he stops. You know not to look over your shoulder. It is a death sentence... but you can't help yourself. As you round the corner, he's still, simply waving at you with that too big a grin.
You don't stop. You press on harder, feet bleeding and sweat dripping down your spine. Throwing off that damn silk robe, you stumble a little just to right yourself and keep sprinting. You don't care if you are nude. Anything with a scent is too dangerous.
You clench your eyes and run as fast as your legs can carry you. Your legs burn, your feet throb. But then you are no longer stepping on stones, they are blades of soft grass. You open your eyes but don't find the beauty of the day. Instead, you look to find billowing clouds roaring with thunder and flashing purple lighting. It begins to split and spill rain down. There is no time to pause. You run into the dreary forest as fast as you can praying to any of the gods to heed your plea and save you.
Bloody feet slide as a newly formed puddle catches you. Arms flail as you slip down the hill and collide with a mess of roots, bushes, and thorns. You grunt and try to crawl out but realize you can use it to your advantage. Instead of going back up the hill, you crawl through the brush and find the deepest pit of thicket and nestled into the side of an old oak.
"Darling! I can smell your sweet sweat. Are you as excited as I am? To think you'd be ready for a mating hunt already! Oh my love! My darling Moth! I'll savor this as long as I live!" His tone was wavering. Overly excited to the point even his voice cracked at parts.
You keep your breath low and even. He continued to ramble. You hear his voice closer now. "Oh my Moth, my Wisp. I could smell you across the Continent. I will track you down to the ends of the earth. I cannot wait to finally snatch you. Mate with you." Now you can hear his heavy breath. He's too close now.
A pointed spider leg pierces the dirt in front of you. Snapping bramble. Your gaze darts up as you see his huge thorax bypassing you.
"Darling!" you jolt as you feel the thicket snap more and the sound of a tree limb breaking. A Kobold who dropped out of a tree, clutching their bow and looking terrified, right where you slipped in. This thing... was hunting you as well, but you were too busy dealing with that obsessed drider that you didn't even seem them.
"You aren't my Beloved..." It was the first time you heard such a dismissive tone from the creature. But, you could use this to your advantage. He was too close, if he moved the wrong way, he was bound to step right on you. You get back on your belly and crawl. You ignore the nasty feeling of dirt and barbs as you pulled yourself along as slowly as possible.
The kobold babbled in fear. You didn't stop to look, but you felt the mess of weeds move. "You are ruining our first hunt. Stupid little thing!" you wince at a scuffle that most likely ended up with the kobold being grabbed, since you could hear their tiny screech suddenly being silenced
the rain was too heavy for you to hear what was happening to them, but you were far too busy saving your own skin. You weren't sure what dripped down your face, if it was sweat, the rain, or blood from a cut, but your eye fluttered shut and stayed shut.
You could see a foxhole. The entrance big enough to squeeze in. Your heart beats louder in excitement as you narrow in on it. Fingers sink deeper in the wet muck as you pull yourself closer. Pulling yourself under a tree root to the wide open foxhole, you push yourself inside only to feel hot droplets on your back and a heavy presence above you.
"Very close my sly fox. I've found you."
You try to dart inside, but he already has you by the hips as he pulled you up against his chest. "My beautiful Moth. I have you in my arms once again. Every time feels just as blissful as the first!" he rubs his cheek against your muddy one. Not caring if the mud and ichor rubbed off on him.
His pedipalps held your hips as his left held your chest. He was groping as his right snaked over your stomach. "You did so well. I almost didn't catch you." His complex manibles brush over your ear and allowed him to nibble the shell of your ear. "But you wanted me to find you. Making all that noise. Sweating so much. You even left a blood trail... I understand why you did it, but i did not want you to hurt yourself for me... I would have found you no matter the weather."
Delusinal! This was absolute maddness! You didn't want any of this! He was making up some mad love story in his head and you voice your displeasure with a yell and violent squirming. But he held just as tight.
"Still playing? Naughty Bee, I have already caught you." He was oozing confidence as he felt up your entire body. "How sweet you want to keep this to carry on. But I cannot keep waiting. You have excited me too much."
Boney and spindly fingers found your genitals and began to play you like a lute. You gasp loudly in both horror and pleasure. "My Moth." He whispered it over and over with such affection you were getting dizzy from it all. Half his eyes were closed as the same half of his face nuzzled against yours. his tongue slowly licking straay droplets of sweat as he stroked and almosted abused your sex with tender unrelenting friction.
Your inner thighs tremble as you try to get away but he's far to perisistant. Then a the finer legs on his body moved, one staying to support you while the other tenderly brushed against your hole as he shifted his body. despite the overwhleming feelings you look down at your lower half his archind half was bent foward so what would be a spinnertte was underneath... but that wasn't the case. A spine was over a slit and that slit was pushing out a large oddly shaped organ it was the same dimentions as a damned horse leg. It was throbbing, purplish fluid flowed freely out of its tip.
it moved like a tail, pressing its head against your opening and fortting against it. that fluid dripped down your thigh as his body continued to torment you. "Worry not. I'll work you open nice and wide for me. I will make this the most pleasurable coupling you will ever have." that pedipalp rubbing against your entrance then began pushing inside, slow and shallow. It was maddening! you swear there was sprites flashing around and watching as your vision started blurring.
Torture. Perverse and excruciating brutatity in the most addicting way. You watched as the limb fucked you and his hand teased you so you could not cum but edged you. He was moaning in your ear as he contined his assult. "You are so warm my Moth!" He was drooling over your shoulder, shuttering as the limb pushed in and out. "So perfect in everyway. My eggs would be so safe inside your guts. Would you keep them as warm as I am right now my sweet?"
you didn't have the willpower or engery to answer. You no longer thought of escaping. No. You needed to cum. your toes curl as he pushes the limb in as deep as it would go. that fluid from his horselike cock left penitration easy and the stretch burned so wonderfuly good. you are moan just as loud as he is, but you do not even hear it.
A long whine wheezes from your lungs as it pulls out of you hole. They left behind sticky strings that plucked away like wilting flowers and drip on the ground. He manourvers you so you can both get a look at your gaping hole. He's leaving over you while holding you close to his chest and that spind on his rounded abdomen throbs. "Look how inviting it is. Like a honey trap... Not that long ago you were crawling on your belly like a slinking cat... Now look. Look at what my love has done for you."
Someway, somhow, that pulsating monster of a cock looked so tantlizing. You were shaking so much even your asscheeks Yere jiggling. This of course was caught by the cursed drow. "I know. I am excited too. Relax Cricket. My cock will be home soon."
He straightened up and his abdomen curled just a bit more as that organ pressed against your most vunrable area. With sudden agression you felt it instantly filling your insides. Full!! far too full!! he was so deep it felt like you were going to vomit. Perhaps even vomit up his cock is it were possible! it felt like it was in your throat as he settled and purred.
Looking up? you didn't even realize your head flew back. You slowly glance down to find your stomach bulging to a concerning degree. You could almost see its shape pushing against your stomach that even your belly button looked ready to pop out. That spine was clamping on your pelvis, right on your pubes. It refused to let you move even an inch. The drider behind you was a mess of sweat, deep erubescence, and drool. All his eyes were closed and his jaw hanging open in ectasy.
He rocked. Deeper that cock went, impossibly deep. His grinding was desprate, his moans were needy and pornographic as a set of legs lifted up and his cock throbbed inside you. "I'm home. Right where I belong." He could hardly get his voice out. "You are so tight! I could live inside you my Moth! I need to lay, right this second. I cannot live in a world that does not have my eggs inside you."
The rocking was intense enough that your head felt ready to fly off but one hand grabbed your chin as he peppered kisses all down your face. He finally brings your orgasam crashing down when he cums as well. All the blood rushes to your head and all you see is white. You felt like your having a sezuire but are grounded by the fact somthing warm is filling your gut. Warm and liquid. You felt like a stretched out waterskin.
He was muttering declarations of worship, but you were too lightheaded to think as you start at the rain dripping down on your hot skin from the deep dark gray sky
Oh, they relished feeling your weight on their web. How perfectly you bounced, the most satisfying of jiggling. He could feel it under his legs for days and never tire of it. The constant reminder of your presence was an intoxicating comfort. Like an alcoholic's first sip in the morning.
He smiled when he felt how much you were squirming today. His hands cupped your cheeks as he squished them and cooed. "You seem so excited this morning, my beloved moth." He loved how soft your cheeks were. How they smushed your face and made you somehow a million times cuter. "Are you excited about your bath? Is it because I found that nice floral soap? I know, what a lucky find. Flies usually never hold such treasures... Not that I mind your natural scent." His teeth nipped along your neck, never grabbing flesh but excited chittering along it.
You freeze. You never take your chances, flinching or fighting against him when he was that close. You have learned over your time trapped here, so long as you did not fight against him too much, He was unwilling to hurt you. He even went as far as to pamper you as much as an abomination of a Drow could. Though, you hated those humiliating feeding sessions of force-feeding. You dare not think about the horrid things that he spat down into your mouth and now churn in your stomach.
He washed you every other day. His webs puppet you like a marionette each time. Keeping your arms up and having you move at his measure with the simple movement of his legs. You shutter as you remember the ice-cold water drips down your body and his face is pressed against your inner thigh and looking up at you with such reverence. His many eyes watching the water cascade down your body. How his warm tongue would lap some up and his mouth would chitter and softly whine.
Lately he had been wrapping you up less. The last... bathing session... You noticed you could have slipped out. Yet you held off. You had to buy your time. Wait for a perfect moment. Maybe then you could see your friends and family again.
Your captor had finished his appreciation and fully plucked you from his web, hiking you over his shoulder and rubbing the back of your thighs. You got front row seats to watch his spider lower half crawl gracefully out of his nest and through the lightly illuminated cave.
There, in the gemstone lit cave, was a softly glowing lake. It is pure blue, even more so than the sky at noon. He sets you down gently as he gently kisses your wrists and braids a web around them both before hanging me up.
"Oh, my beloved Moth. You look ethereal. Your beauty simply soils me so." He said that with a hushed voice as the silk robes he forced you in, opened in the front. The web fell garment fell. Framing your vulnerable body, the knit strands then glowed in the cyan light of water and crystals. "I am so happy I can hold you in my arms. That I am the only one who sees you like this." his hands go from your hips and up and sliding so they are just under your chest before rubbing circles just under your nipples.
You shutter as his freezing fingers graze over your flesh. His teeth clack as he lets go and slowly starts cupping water with his hands to pour the ice cold liquid down your front. You jolt at the feeling, curling up as much as you could.
The Drider presses his face to your stomach. Rubbing it against your twitching flesh. "I am sorry it is so freezing, my beloved Moth. The colder months have arrived." Had you really been here that long? It was early summer when you were swept away by this beast. "I will figure out something to make sure you are comfortable. I wish to spoil you, just as much as you spoil me." He was grinning ear to ear as he said that. Pointed jagged teeth on display, making it feel more like a threat than he probably meant, but it terrified you regardless.
"Let us lather you up, I cannot wait to scent you. To have your natural smell mix with lavender? It will simply be Divine." He turns to that makeshift cabinet of a web to fish out the goods he had pulled off of corpses. Now is your chance.
You, with all your saved up energy, yank yourself free from the few strands and start running before you even hit the ground. Your feet catch jagged stones and pain shoots all the way up your spine to the back of your head. Yet you keep running. You hear his shrill voice fading, "Beloved?!"
He is faster than you. But with a head start, you hope you can get to the outside where you can shake him off in the sunlight. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Tears are clouding your vision as those odd crystals provide just enough for you to know when to turn or leap.
"Oh darling moth, I did not know you wanted to have some fun!" your heart all but stopped. Pupils shrink as they dart over to the Drider who is keeping pace right next to you with a delighted expression. "You really want to take this to the next step, do you? Okay!" his face was flushing and both sets pedipalps rubbing together.
His oral Pedipalps jittered and spread just as wide, making his maw look more like an open wound with maggots instead of teeth. His eight eyes wide open. He was drooling. "I will find you just like you want." His voice too husky and wanting for your liking.
Then he stops. You know not to look over your shoulder. It is a death sentence... but you could not help yourself. As you rounded the corner, he was still, simply waving at you with that too big a grin.
There was no stopping. Not now. You pressed on harder, feet bleeding and sweat dripping down your spine. Throwing off that damn silk robe, you stumble a little just to right yourself and keep sprinting. You did not care if you were nude. Anything with a scent is too dangerous.
You clenched your eyes and run as fast as your legs can carry you. Your legs burned, your feet throb. But then you are no longer stepping on stones, they are blades of soft grass. There was no beauty of the day waiting. Overhead, clouds billowed and churned roaring with thunder and flashing purple veins of lighting. It began to split and spill. Rain hammered down. There is no time to pause. You ran into the dreary forest as fast as you could, praying to any of the gods to heed your plea and save you.
Bloody feet slid as a newly formed puddle caught you. Arms flailed as you slipped down the hill and collided with a mess of roots, bushes, and thorns. You grunted and tried to crawl out but realized you could use it to your advantage. Instead of going back up the hill, you crawled through the brush and find the deepest pit of thicket and nestled into the side of an old oak.
"Darling! I can smell your sweet sweat. Are you as excited as I am? To think you would be ready for a mating hunt already! Oh my love! My darling Moth! I will savor this as long as I live!" His tone was wavering. Overly excited to the point even his voice cracked at parts.
You keep your breath low and even. He continued to ramble. You heard his voice closer now. "Oh my Moth, my Wisp. I could smell you across the Continent. I will track you down to the ends of the earth. I cannot wait to finally snatch you. Mate with you." Now you can hear his heavy breath. He was too close now.
A pointed spider leg pierced the dirt in front of you. Snapping bramble. Your gaze darted up as you saw his huge thorax and abdomen bypassing you.
"Darling!" you jolted as the thicket snapped again, followed by the sharp crack of a breaking tree limb. A Kobold had dropped out of a tree, clutching their bow and looking terrified, right where you had slipped in. This thing had been hunting you as well, but you were too busy dealing with that obsessed Drider to even notice. Your heart sank.
"You aren't my Beloved..." It was the first time you heard such a dismissive tone from the creature. But, you could use this to your advantage. He was too close, if he moved the wrong way, he was bound to step right on you. You get back on your belly and crawl. You ignore the nasty feeling of dirt and barbs as you pulled yourself along as slowly as possible.
The kobold babbled in fear. You did not stop to look, but you felt the mess of weeds move. "You are ruining our first hunt. Stupid little thing!" you wince at a scuffle that most likely ended up with the kobold being grabbed, since you could hear their tiny screech suddenly being silenced
The rain hammered down, too heavy for you to hear what was happening to them. You were far too busy saving your own skin. Something trickled down your face. You were unsure if it was sweat, the rain, or blood from a cut, but your eye fluttered shut and stayed shut.
You could see a foxhole. The entrance big enough to squeeze in. Your heart beat louder in excitement as you narrowed in on it. Fingers sunk deeper in the wet muck as you pulled yourself closer. Lugging yourself under a tree root to the wide open foxhole, you pushed yourself inside only to feel hot droplets on your back and a heavy presence above you.
"Very close my sly fox. I have found you."
You tried to dart inside, but he already had you by the hips as he pulled you up against his chest. "My beautiful Moth. I have you in my arms once again. Every time feels just as blissful as the first!" he rubbed his cheek against your muddy one. Not caring if the mud and ichor rubbed off on him.
His pedipalps held your hips as his left held your chest. He was groping as his right one snaked over your stomach. "You did so well. I almost did not catch you." His complex mandibles brushed over your ear and allowed him to nibble the shell of your ear. "But you wanted me to find you. Making all that noise. Sweating so much. You even left a blood trail... I understand why you did it, but I did not want you to hurt yourself for me... I would have found you no matter the weather."
Delusional! Absolute madness! You did not want any of this! He was spinning some mad love story in his head. You yelled out your displeasure with violent squirming, yet he held just as tight.
"Still playing? Naughty Bee, I have already caught you." He was oozing confidence as he felt up your entire body. "How sweet you want to keep this to carry on. But I cannot keep waiting. You have excited me too much."
Boney and spindly fingers found your genitals and began to play you like a lute. You gasped loudly in both horror and pleasure. "My Moth." He whispered it over and over with such affection you were getting dizzy from it all. Half his eyes were closed as the same half of his face nuzzled against yours. His tongue slowly licking stray droplets of sweat as he stroked and abused your sex with tender unrelenting friction.
Your inner thighs trembled as you try to get away. He was far too persistent. Then the finer legs on his body moved, one staying to support you while the other tenderly brushed against your hole as he shifted his body. Despite the overwhelming feelings you look down at your lower half, his arachnid half was bent forward so what would be a spinnerette was underneath... but that was not the case. A spine was over a slit and that slit was pushing out a large oddly shaped organ. The same dimensions as a damned horse leg. It was throbbing, purplish fluid flowed freely out of its tip.
It moved like a tail, pressing its head against your opening and frotting against it. That fluid dripped down your thigh as his body continued to torment you. "Worry not. I will work you open nice and wide for me. I will make this the most pleasurable coupling you will ever have." that pedipalp rubbing against your entrance, then began pushing inside. Slow and shallow and at first. It was maddening! You swore those sparks were sprites flashing around and watching as your vision started blurring.
Torture. Perverse and excruciating brutality in the most addicting way. You watched as the limb fucked you and his hand teased you so you could not cum but edged you. He was moaning in your ear as he continued his assault. "You are so warm my Moth!" He was drooling over your shoulder, shuttering as the limb pushed in and out. "So perfect in everyway. My eggs would be so safe inside your guts. Would you keep them as warm as I am right now my sweet?"
You did not have the willpower or energy to answer. You no longer thought of escaping. No. You needed to cum. Your toes curled as he pushed the limb in as deep as it would go. That fluid from his horselike cock left penetration easy and the stretch burned so wonderfully good. Moaning? Was that you? It was just as loud as he was.
A long whine wheezed from your lungs as it pulls his pedipalp of your hole. They left behind sticky strings that plucked away like wilting flowers and drip on the ground. He maneuvers you so you can both get a look at your gaping hole. He was leaving over you while holding you close to his chest and that spine on his rounded abdomen twitches. "Look how inviting it is. Like a honey trap... Not that long ago you were crawling on your belly like a slinking cat... Now look. Look at what my love has done for you."
Someway, somehow, that pulsating monster of a cock looked so tantalizing. You were shaking so much, even your asscheeks were jiggling. This of course was caught by the cursed Drow. "I know. I am excited too. Relax Cricket. My cock will be home soon."
He straightened up and his abdomen curled just a bit more as that organ pressed against your most vulnerable area. With sudden aggression you felt it instantly filling your insides. Full!! Far too full!! He was so deep it felt like you were going to vomit. Perhaps even vomit up his cock is it were possible! It felt like it was in your throat as he settled and purred.
Looking up? You had not even realized your head had flown back. It was only when your eyes drifted down that your horror set in. Your stomach bulged unnaturally, skin stretched tight over his cock inside. So much so that even your belly button looked ready to pop out. That spine at the very end of his arachnid body was clamping on your pelvis, right on your pubes. It refused to let you move even an inch. The Drider behind you was a mess of sweat, deep erubescence, and drool. All his eyes were closed and his jaw hanging open in ecstasy.
He rocked. Deeper that cock pushed, impossibly deep. His grinding was desperate, his moans were needy and pornographic as a set of legs lifted up. His cock throbbed inside you. "I am home. Right where I belong." He could hardly get his voice out. "You are so tight! I could live inside you my Moth! I need to lay, right this second. I cannot live in a world that does not have my eggs inside you."
The rocking was intense enough that your head felt ready to fly off, yet one hand grabbed your chin as he peppered kisses all down your face. He finally brought your orgasm crashing through you like a tsunami when he cums as well. All the blood rushes to your head. You see white. It felt like you were having a seizure but grounded by the fact something warm is filling your gut. Warm and liquid. You felt like a stretched out waterskin, pushing its limits.
He was muttering declarations of worship, but you were far too lightheaded to think as you watched the rain dripping down on your hot skin.
Mini imp boyfriend who steals things for you as a gift and tribute. Including and not limited to, hairbrushes, candy, gold rings, those new exhibits in the museum, that creepy coworker or asshole boss and a ritualistic dagger to cut and drink his blood with.
Dating in the underworld is intense. An Imp that's able to grab a succulent human such as yourself? He's the luckiest demon in all the Nine Hells!
He treats you like he would any master. Many tributes for his lovely partner! That's how his kind shows affection. It might be a bit off-putting when you're getting ready to go on a date and he rolls up with a tormented soul ready for consuming. But he does it out of love!
He loves it when you accept his pointed tail pointed straight up and scratches around his horn as your nails massage his scalp through his hair. Though, he gets a bit discouraged when you tell him he can't accept his tributes. Humans are so hard to understand, but he'll make it work!
Mermen who present to fish to lone fishermen out on the waters when they are all by themselves as a courting ritual.
It's a hot summer day and the sun is beaming down on you in your tiny flat top boat. Your skin was heated to an uncomfortable degree and the only thing saving you was your years out in weather like this and the sweat dripping down our body. You adjusted your cap as the line hit the water and tried to squint away the brightness.
You look away from the glimmering water and see that you have a small ring of sweat around you on the plastic flooring. Your shirt was sticking to your skin. You can't imagine how you smell right now. As you stare at the patterns of perspiration, you hear a splash. Thinking it's a fish, your eyes dart back up and you ready your reel. Instead of a prize catch, you see a pair of dark eyes staring back at you.
It smiles at you, fins perking up as a matching tail waves behind. When hearing all about the tales of Mers and sirens you expected bright colors, bioluminescence, unnatural beauty as the folklore presented them to be. Instead, there was a masculine man with woody colored hair and dark pupil filled eyes. His tail and even skin was colored almost exactly like a Largemouth Bass, even down to the patterns.
It was making odd clicks and squeals that you could not understand, but it seemed excited based on its body language and that smile going from ear to ear. You kneel down and stare at eye level before fishing out your phone.
He dives. You curse yourself for being too slow when suddenly the surface tension breeches again and the biggest, fattest Walleye was flung onto the boat. You nearly lost your balance as the boat shook, your arms flail until the boat finally stabilizes. It squeals and its tail swishes more violently in the water, roaring up foam as it looks at you and points to the fish.
When you prod at the fish, it flaps its thick body as the Mer's noises get louder still until you pick up the fish with a grunt. The excited creature lashes the water to foam and throws itself on the boat before pulling you into a hug. You are crushed against his wet skin as you are forced to fit against the curves of its body. It's face nuzzles into your neck as you spread your body out to prevent the watercraft from capsizing.
