Hairy love

by basicfangirl

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Slice of Life, Romance, Horror
Length: 1170

Welp...This happened... Flutters X Petunia the spider = FLUTTUNIA!

Flutters has fallen in love with a spider.
Okay goodye people have a nice day the world has ended, get the weapons ready! BANG! Oh look Bob just killed himself
I'm not kidding she has…
Flutters and Petunia have just kissed what is going to happen now?
Stuff I guess…

I am a very weird and disturbed person so don'the judge me after you read this.

This is written in the perspectI've of Petunia (she is the spider)

Sequel to this amazingly awesome one shot: https://www.fimfiction.net/story/288366/arachnophillia

For the competion: Ocalhohns big 250k contest

I AM A BRITISH CIVILIAN SO I AM NOT ENTERING FOR THE MONEY! I AM JUST ENTERING TO WIN! THAT IS ALL

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-02-10 00:49:10 UTC

Urrrmmmm-I DON'T KNOW! IT JUST HAPPENED...

Warmth spread across my cheeks, the bright crimson heating me up. My chest thumped repeatedly, a filling feeling fled across my body. I now felt stable as if I had that thing that keeps me up straight. What’s it called again? Oh yeah – bones.

Her lips were soft like freshly caught fly wings. And she oddly smelt like vanilla and... robins. She must of been feeding the robins earlier. But the oddest thing is that I liked it. I genuinely enjoyed it. Though I think I prickled her, either with my knife like hairs or my sharp fangs.

I don’t want to hurt her. No she is too precious for that. Her friends consider me a threat, but she considers me as a friend. Pony-kind sees me as monster, someone worthy of fear. She sees me as an intriguing creature, someone worth to study and love. Things can be differently in the eyes of kindness. Things can be seen differently in the eyes of Fluttershy.

She was a beautiful creature of prey... I mean pegasus. She had long waves of pink, each strand of mane meandering at the points. Her coat was butter yellow, it was silky smooth from what I felt of it, and it always smelt of vanilla.

I can always remember her sweet scent, it stained me like blood on a white shirt, I can smell her essence from a mile away, that’s how much she is stamped my mind with fire.

She was kindness. She was that sweet melody at the back of you head coaxing you to make the correct decision. She was the soft breeze, the swift movements of her frail feathers creating smooth swooshes. She was the ideal mother figure, the amiable persona, whose voice is fluffy like candyfloss. She was fragile yet firm, she knew what she was saying but hardly ever could get it out and put it in words.

She was cute that way. She always squealed if you come to close, always squirmed if you poked her weak spots and always shied away from crowds. That was what we had in common. We hated crowds. Too many ponies/creatures to judge you, to rate you every move, to decide who you are by a single look even though you only know fraction of yourself. We are introverts: we would prefer to be in each other’s embrace inside her small cottage, all toasted and together.

My body didn’t feel like it was mine, when we kissed and my legs scattered across the floor on imaginary ice, Then splattered against the wall, stuck. I felt stiff and I couldn’t move. I was paralysed.

I was paralysed with love?

Was I in love?

Did she love me?

Of course she did! Or I wouldn’t be here.

She looked at me with her big turquoise eyes, her presence intoxicating me, my breath becoming hot. I crawled towards her, each step tapping on the wooden floor. She didn’t look terrified but accepting. She allowed me to come close to her. To breathe in her very existence. My legs weaved themselves in her hair, the little bristles stroking her skin. There was an eternal lust beating in my chest, each bump punching my insides like a drum at a rock concert.

She just looked so diamond clear, right in front of me, I couldn’t contain myself. If two people love each other, why does the feeling have to be trapped in a  broken tunnel. I leaned in again but this time it was on purpose. I wanted to make it sweet. I wanted to make it memorable.

I kissed her lips slowly, tasting every inch of her lips. She began to melt, and kiss back, her lips sinking into mine. To make her truly mine, I feebly bit her lip, hear her whimpering moan of delight.

Only a bit of blood spilled, it tasted good, it tasted satisfying and inviting. I finally made her mine. I finally had a piece of her in my system. I felt hypnotised, lured into her, like a fly to a web. I was imprisoned in her spiral of love, the everlasting cycle: You love me – I love you – we love each other.

It coming back, determined to last.

It was a beautiful and heated feeling. Desire was nothing compared that, that was need. It was the need to be in each other’s legs/hooves. We yearned for each other, we were each other’s stability. She was crippled and I was her crouches.

I haven’t moaned yet. Not yet. I haven’t gotten to that stage of pleasure. And I’m not intending to anytime soon. I don’t want to be quick. She is not my prey. It is not her last moment of life, this isn’t her last breath, I don’t need to be rapid. Quick things aren’t usually remembered.

My legs became steel, not twisting, not twitching, not made of flesh anymore. Her small hooves rubbed the roots of my legs, sending sharp tingles up my spine, it pinched me like needles but it was relaxing.

After a few seconds we both needed to breathe. The lack of oxygen reached to our brains, red lights flashing everywhere.

I gazed at her gorgeous face, her features looked so tender and mild. Her lips looked so plump, breathing heavily, inhaling get and exhaling get deep breaths. She looked worn out. But my burning passion took over my movements, I forcibly pushed myself on her without hesitation, my spiky and slippery tongue intertwining with hers. Our tongues creating loops in our mouths, moisture painted onto lips. Wetness stuck on our faces, continuing to become more humid by the second.

Sweetness was pushed aside. If we were described as music, we would be crescendoing, allegro and staccato. Once we started we couldn’t stop, it was too addictive, and we kept coming back for more.

Things got intense but I will spare you the gory details. Let’s just say that it involved a spider web, tying down, repetitive calling of names, and whispers in the dark.

But the best thing, was what happened after.

Her China doll like face, pierced into my soul, her unwavering smile directed at me. Her hoof patting my cheeks gingerly, her tiny puffs of air tapping my nose, hitting me like a raindrop. I purred like a cat to her, showing how much I appreciated her presence and affection.

“Do you love me?” I suddenly whispered, shuffling from my original position so one of my legs rested on the cold brown floor.

“Hm?” she cooed. She hadn’t heard me. She was in her own world, in our fantasy.

“Do you love me?” I repeated more firmly.

Her eyes widened as if I asked if the sky was blue. She wrapped her hooves around each and pulled me closer,

“Of course I do.” She slurred, batting her eyes innocently. She etched her lips closer to mine once again, and we began to kiss simultaneously.