#cw.bugs

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Your eyes are wide and twitching, and you feel as though you're submerged in water, feeling weightless and slightly cold. Though you've never felt so comfortable. You have only your socks on, otherwise practically nude, despite the absence of your bits.

Instead of your typical human chest, torso, and pelvis, your body resembles an insect abdomen. A cockroach. With a hard shell covering a set of transparent wings that delicately flap and flutter behind you. And a pair of antennas that wiggle.

An overwhelming smell, both familiar and elusive, surrounds you, yet you can't pinpoint exactly when or where you smelled it before. You take deliberate, deep breaths in an attempt to etch it into your memory, a fleeting desire to hold onto it for recollection, not to mention how nice it smells. A tone of masculine perfume, luxurious but not too strong, fresh and pristine, with a hint of vanilla.

Your body trembles with a slight buzzing noise, a soft moan escapes your lips. It smells so good.

You don't notice your hands begin to roam aimlessly, gliding up and down with a rhythmic motion on a slightly firm surface that is both bumpy and incredibly smooth. And an occasional flick to a piece of fabric around his neck.

“Feeling adventurous today, ‘eh.”

You didn't say that.

You try to say something. But all that comes out is a faint groan, and no response from whoever is in front of you other than a chuckle. You feel a gloved hand caress your cheek and immediately chirp happily and lean into it, feeling a gentle pressure of a thumb rubbing your skin.

“Oh look at you! You are magnifique.” he says. “You were always meant to be by my side, a beautiful ‘ybrid in a world z’at has never understood us.” The stranger comes closer and immediately your body reacts, hands grasping at whatever they touched, reeling his body towards you in a tight embrace. He laughs triumphantly.

Your antennas quiver and move subtly upon contact with his own, communicating feelings and intents without words.

Leaning in closer, with your lips brushing against his neck, the taste of him awakens a sense of arousal within you. A forbidden taste lingering on your tongue. You hear him hum in delight and feel his body relax.

“That's it my sweet, surrender to me!”

Your eyes are no longer fully open, now partially closed and insanely dilated, appearing almost black as they obscure your natural eye color.

He pats your head, twirling the strands and scratching your scalp. You tremble and drool. You feel him lean up and lick along your lips sideways.

You're lost in a haze of confusion and newfound affection, but you can’t help but indulge as the line between them starts to blur. You kiss him.

Maxime.

Your eyes shoot up like a bullet.

Maxime is your enemy.