Archive of Our Own

Chrollo sensed movement lurking just beyond the shadows of the trees and, with a reluctant sigh, he tore his fangs from his latest meal.

It would be okay, he grumbled, turning to climb down the web. It would keep for a while yet.

“You can stop hiding,” he called out, curling up in a comfortable sprawl along one of the lower web levels, high enough to be safe but low enough to see the entire expanse of the clearing below. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

He raised a brow as a giant of a man emerged from the tree line, his bulk at odds with the softness of his footfalls. Even from this distance Chrollo could taste the power radiating off him. It made his mouth water, his interrupted meal forgotten in light of the potential before him.

“Now who might you be?” he smiled, lifting his upper half to see him better.

The man glared, though his eyes were heavy as they took him in. “I’m your owner,” he said, his voice low and strong, like oak.

Chrollo’s eyes went wide and a moment later found him laughing. “Owner?” he managed, dipping lower just to better see the human who could be so brazen. “This is news to me. And how did this come to be?”

“I’m Silva Zoldyck,” the man grated, coming to a stop just below him, his silver head tilted back to watch him with ice blue eyes.

“And I’m Chrollo,” he replied. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Silva seemed to glare, his gaze hardening. “I own this mountain,” he explained, his power fluctuating with his temper. “Therefore I own everything on it.”

Chrollo rolled his eyes and hummed, turning to skitter back up the web. He wasn’t impressed, and this conversation didn’t warrant putting off his meal any longer. He could feel the man’s eyes on him as he climbed back up and settled beside the fresh prey, navigating it until the bound mass was near his mouth.

“What are you doing,” the man said, his voice too harsh for it to be a question.

Chrollo sighed. He turned and glared down at the annoyance. “Going back to my dinner,” he said, his voice heavy with faux politeness. “Or does my landlord not approve of me eating in front of him for fear of his delicate sensibilities being offended?”

He didn’t expect for the web to give out beneath him.

With a startled cry, Chrollo fell to the ground, barely registering Silva dragging down the rest of the web structure. The old meals, dry and rotting, came down like hail and Chrollo tore at the sticky web. Grass and sticks and leaves covered him and he scrambled for traction, knowing all too well how poor his mobility was off his web.

An iron hand seized him by the scrambling leg and Chrollo cried out as he was dragged from the debris.

“Let go of me!” he yelped, clawing the loam. He looked over his shoulder at Silva, his eyes widening as the man tightened his grip on his thin, fragile leg and yanked hard enough to hurt.

Silva didn’t let go.

“Tell me what you were eating,” the man commanded, looming over him like a mountain over an ant. “Tell me what these other meals were.”

Never before in his life had Chrollo ever felt like prey. He swallowed and tried to turn to ease the pressure on his leg, hyper aware of how close it was to breaking.

“Just some humans,” he answered, his voice breathless and tone fearful. “Just prey that fell into my web.”

“Just my staff, you mean,” Silva said, forcing Chrollo onto his back, his spindly legs curling in instinctively to protect his belly. “Another butler went missing last night. This makes the eighth.”

Chrollo swallowed and unconsciously tore at the grass beneath his hands. He forced up a grin, though there was no hiding the wince as his trapped leg was squeezed tighter. “Well you know how it is, everyone has to eat. And they’re such easy kills.”

Silva didn’t look impressed and the grip turned crushing. Chrollo let out a gasp, instincts screaming at him to do something lest he lose the leg entirely.

Biting his lip, Chrollo relaxed his body, letting his hands fall above his head in a posture of complete submission. This usually worked when all else failed and he bared his throat, holding himself completely still.

“Please,” he whispered, licking his lips to make the venom drip. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Steel blue eyes pinned him in place and Chrollo held his breath as the man drifted closer, his free hand settling next to his head. “You’re dangerous,” Silva said, though he sounded almost pleased at the prospect. “I like breaking dangerous pets.” Cool lips brushed Chrollo’s ear, his smile so loud it could be heard.

The words rankled and Chrollo extended his fangs while the man was distracted. Just one bite was all he needed, even for a human this large.

He had barely lunged an inch before a hand slammed into his throat, forcing his head against the ground hard enough for his sight to darken. Venom dripped down his cheeks and sizzled in the grass below, and dazed as he was, he still heard Silva laugh.

“Creatures are only pretty if it helps them hunt,” Silva crooned, stroking through Chrollo’s hair like one would a pet.

Chrollo fought to see past the black as Silva moved lower, taking his leg in both hands. “Don’t…” he tried. “I won’t be able to climb, I can’t defend myse—”

And Silva merely shushed him.

“I can’t reward bad behavior,” and that was the only warning Chrollo got before his leg erupted in pain, the sharp snap echoing like a gunshot through the trees. Chrollo’s sight went white and though he felt himself scream, he couldn’t hear it. Nothing in his life had ever compared to the pain tearing through him now.

He sobbed and Silva stood, dusting off his hands as if finishing a particularly bothersome chore. Chrollo rolled onto his side, letting the ruined leg rest against the grass so it would have some measure of support. Every part of him shook, but Silva paid him no mind.

“Don’t eat any more of my staff,” Silva ordered, already walking off into the forest.

Chrollo jolted when he stopped and turned, his cold eyes meeting him.

“If you do,” he began, letting his aura tear through the air, “I’ll find you.”

oOo

It took weeks for Chrollo to heal, and for the first time in his life, he realized how his prey felt when caught in a web.

The instant he registered the telltale rumble of Silva’s presence shaking the leaves, Chrollo bolted for the highest part of his web. He climbed with his hands as well as his legs, having to compensate for the fracture still healing. It ached. Even though it had been so long, he still had trouble moving it the way he wanted. It was getting to the point where he figured it would never fully heal, even with his makeshift splint of silk and stick.

Silva’s voice cut through his thoughts and he froze in place, praying that the full branches of the tree would be enough to hide him from sight.

“Chrollo?” the man called, sounding almost kind though Chrollo knew what was hiding beneath the surface. “Come out, Chrollo.”

Chrollo bit his lip and pressed as close to the web as he could, his eyes fixed on the egg sacs he had placed nearby. He could sense the minute tremors in the air shifting just below the base of the web, Silva approaching the tree.

Even from a hundred feet up, he could still hear the man’s laughter.

“I know you’re up there,” he called out. “Come down or I’ll rip this one down like I did the others.”

Rough bark met his forehead as Chrollo sagged against the nearest branch. Since they had first met, Silva had taken to tearing down all of his webs, no matter where they were. With his leg broken, making new ones had been nearly impossible. He couldn’t imagine going through it again, not so soon after throwing this one together.

Silva wasn’t a patient man and the moment Chrollo felt the bottom of the web shudder, he found himself acting.

“Stop!” he shouted, his eyes clenched shut. “Just stop, I’m coming down.”

“Ah, so you are home!” Silva bellowed, laughing like this was just a social call to a neighbor. “It’s not polite to keep me waiting.”

Grimacing, Chrollo painstakingly made his way back down, hesitating only a moment before breaking his cover and moving past the bulk of the branches barring the ground from view.

“What do you want?” he hissed the instant he saw Silva, and he made sure to linger above his head, out of reach.

The only reason he’d found him was because of his damn leg. Had he not been injured, he never would have lingered this close to the manor house, looking for safety. It was all Silva’s fault and no doubt his plan, and Chrollo hated the dependence.

The man had the audacity to look hurt.

“Now that’s hardly the way to greet someone. And I believe I told you to come down here.” He gestured to the ground expectantly, his gaze turning hard when Chrollo failed to jump to attention.

Just thinking about going back down made his leg sting. “And the last time I did that, you broke my leg,” Chrollo hissed, his anger making his fangs drip. “You ruined my webs. You left me to fend for myself, defenseless.”

“And here you are still, stronger for it,” Silva said, so sanctimonious that Chrollo lunged.

It was higher than he knew was safe to do so, but Silva proved a soft enough landing that it didn’t matter much in the end. He knocked the man to the ground and made for his throat, using every ounce of strength he had to hold him in place. Sharp fangs skimmed flesh and for a moment, one blessed moment, Chrollo thought he would have himself an easy meal.

The man threw him off like a child tossing away a toy and Chrollo grunted as he landed on his half-healed leg, the pain locking him up. Silva rolled to his feet, forced him easily onto his back, and, before Chrollo could register the action, took him by the throat and slammed his head into the ground hard enough to daze him.

Chrollo cried out weakly, his vision spotted and his body heavy, and Silva silently began to work. His hands were seized and tied neatly with the silk from his own web, his legs quickly following suit. He struggled against the bindings and whined, but Silva had him pinned. Everything ached, every move putting stress on his injured leg.

A strong, merciless hand seized him by the jaw, and Chrollo forced his eyes to watch as his mouth was pried open. No matter how hard he thrashed, Silva held him in place, even going so far as to straddle his middle to keep him down.

“Stay still,” came the silky command, and Chrollo began to cry as a stick was shoved into his mouth and wedged behind his fangs, forcing them forward and into a jar Silva held in his hand.

It hurt, his jaw aching and gums bleeding from the rough treatment. He stared up at Silva imploringly, wriggling as much as he could in the vain hope of knocking the man off him. All he got for his efforts were fingers placed against his glands, massaging them to milk the venom from his fangs.

“There we go,” Silva hushed, sounding so sweet even though his thighs threatened to crush Chrollo’s delicate body. “You gave me the idea the last time we met, when you tried to attack me. I can only imagine how potent you must be, to reduce my servants to husks.”

Chrollo trembled and tried to ignore how tender it was being milked like this, his glands swollen and hot. He closed his eyes and felt the tears roll down his cheeks, matting his hair.

A moan broke past the things in his mouth and Silva didn’t even pause to laugh. “I thought you might like this,” he whispered, rolling his hips against Chrollo blindly, searching for any indication as to where he was sensitive. “Good pets get treats, Chrollo, so be good for me.”

Thick fingers moved from his upper glands to his tongue, playing with him as if he were a toy. Chrollo’s mouth fell open even wider, saliva and stray venom dripping down his chin and cheeks in a slick, sticky mess. Though his legs ached, the soft silk of his webbing was smooth against his wrists, only adding to the warmth collecting along his body.

The moment Silva’s hips skimmed his entrance, Chrollo let out a full body shudder. He moaned brokenly as Silva smiled, the man removing his fingers from his mouth to trail them down to his heat.

“So these are your genitals,” Silva said clinically, so blunt that Chrollo flushed horribly and whined at the wording. It made the man laugh and probe at him closer. “Don’t be shy now, it doesn’t suit you.”

A rush of venom flooded the cup as Chrollo tensed, filling it nearly to the brim. His glands were sore and his jaw ached and he couldn’t bear to think of how difficult hunting would be the next week with his stores depleted, but still he moaned and sucked on the fingers that came back up to remove the container.

Silva slid the stick out and held him by the jaw to keep him from biting. “You did very well, Chrollo,” he praised, taking in the full jar.

To his utter shock, Silva dipped down and kissed him, his tongue meeting Chrollo’s venom-laced mouth with a moan. Chrollo closed his eyes and kissed back, feeding him as much venom as he could muster. Every move he made sent him rubbing against Silva’s firm body, and when they finally pulled apart it, he was the one in pain, aching for more.

“It makes my mouth tingle,” Silva chuckled breathlessly, licking his lips clean of the venom.

“I’d rather you dissolve,” Chrollo gasped back, his voice breaking towards the end.

Silva huffed out a laugh and grabbed for the stick again, shoving it unceremoniously back into Chrollo’s mouth. “Now that’s no way to talk to your owner,” he chastised. “Speech is a privilege.” He grinned as he tied it in place with some more silk, Chrollo thrashing aimlessly but to no avail.

Chrollo whined around the gag but froze in his movements when Silva moved lower down his body. His mouth descended on his chest, kissing and biting at his skin until a livid series of marks painted him like a map of ownership. Silva was relentless, paying every inch of him attention until he couldn’t bear to be touched. He shook and rattled and his legs curled, his body an uncontrollable symphony lost to Silva’s score.

A warm, wet tongue fell to his opening and Chrollo threw his head back, writhing in the dirt from the pleasure it brought. He was immune to his own venom but it didn’t stop the electric sting of it from making him cry out. If the dose was enough to make him feel it, he couldn’t imagine how tolerant Silva must have been to poisons.

As if sensing his thoughts, Silva made another pass with his tongue, feeding him more of his venom-tinged saliva. Though his limbs were bound, he tried to pull the head closer, aching for more of the heat and fullness. It had been so long since he had been touched, most of his prey too scared or too dead to play with him.

“You’re mine,” Silva rasped against his smooth carapace, dipping his thick fingers inside to feel him from the inside. “Every single part of you.”

There was no way to respond or form a retort. Chrollo turned his face away from the probing eyes and rocked himself in time to the fingers, wanting nothing more than to be bred and to replace the broods he had lost to Silva’s destructive tantrums.

All too soon the fingers were removed, breaking him from his daze. Silva bared himself to the open air and any moisture that remained in Chrollo’s mouth dried up at the sight.

He was big, bigger than any Chrollo had seen before and he knew himself well enough to know that if he tried to take it, he would be torn apart.

“Silva, I can’t—” he tried to say through the makeshift gag, but there was no holding him back. The head was pressed to his entrance, the pressure increasing until his eyes rolled back and Silva slipped inside.

The tremors that wracked Silva’s body shook in time to his own, every inch Silva fed him more than he could ever possibly hold. The meager saliva didn’t do much to ease the way. Chrollo burned and thrashed and felt himself crack around the edges but Silva relentlessly pushed on, fucking into him in search of his own pleasure.

With the gag over his mouth, Chrollo fought to breathe. His vision spotted black, a dark haze coming over him and he listed to the side as Silva fucked the air out of him faster than he could compensate. It was only when he went completely limp that Silva tore the silk and stick from his mouth, letting him breathe freely and choke on the words lodged in his throat.

“Fill me up,” he begged, raggedly gasping and sputtering still for breath between each thrust. “Please, Silva, inside me, do it inside me.”

Silva let out a groan and for a moment Chrollo thought he would do it. But then the pace slowed, Silva pulling out with a vicious grin on his face that sent a miserable sense of loss through Chrollo’s veins.

“I won’t breed you,” Silva grunted, finishing himself off by hand, too low on Chrollo’s thorax to reach his entrance. “I don’t need more of your kind on my land, attacking my property.”

Chrollo sobbed and half wished for the gag again, if only to stop him from pleading and begging for something he knew wouldn’t come. “Silva, please, I need it, I need to feel it,” he cried, biting his lip and thrashing beneath him as if it would entice him back inside. “I need to breed, I need to, I need to, I need—”

Silva spilled over, covering him in his cum with a throaty moan. The sight made him cry harder even as his body went limp with the lost potential.

“What a mess you are,” Silva said, already tidying himself up. He reached out a hand to wipe away his tears, but the move wasn’t meant to comfort.

“Let me go now,” Chrollo breathed, leaning into the hand though he longed to be anywhere else. “You’ve had your fun.”

Humming, Silva seemed in no hurry to be on his way. He stroked Chrollo’s lips with the pad of his thumb, smiling at the spider’s glare. “Not very affectionate of a pet, are you?” he asked, his voice condescending.

Chrollo turned his face away and grimaced. “Please let me go,” he whispered, starting to shake. Now that the man had stopped touching him, the pain in his body swelled to the forefront of his attention. His leg throbbed, his fangs stung. He longed for his web, for sleep.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

With no ounce of care, Silva tore at the webbing binding his legs. Chrollo winced and bit down on his lips, refusing to cry out, but every jostle hurt. Pointedly he stared at the webbing around his wrists, but when he held them out, Silva merely smiled.

“Where’s the fun if I do all the work?” he asked, and Chrollo gaped as he stood, brushing the dirt off his knees matter-of-factly. He palmed the vial of harvested venom and turned, leaving Chrollo on his back, still bound.

“Silva!” he shouted, panicked and livid. “Untie me!”

The man waved, not even bothering to turn around.

oOo

Chrollo sagged against the thick branch and let the warmth of the sun soothe his aching body. He stared forlornly at the web-less tree, something inside him feeling empty without the sight of a nest cluster nearby. His last one was far off, halfway down the mountainside and already hatched. He traced his fingers along the grooved bark, feeling that restless energy that signaled he needed to breed again.

At this point, the dread that arrived alongside Silva’s approaching aura was nearly a conditioned response. Chrollo froze, his care-free ease gone, and he pressed himself low against the branch. He was high, but not nearly high enough to be hidden.

The man trudged up to his tree as if sensing him there, and slowly Chrollo relaxed. This time would be different. This time he was ready.

Silva looked up angrily, like the frustrated pet owner he proclaimed himself to be.

“My son’s friend had a rather interesting encounter,” he began, grinding his teeth as he stared up at Chrollo on his perch. “He thanked me for keeping such exotic pets around and said that he’d never had such a warm welcome before.”

Chrollo hummed, cocking his head and resting it on his hand. “Does this involve me or do you just like talking about yourself?” he asked.

“You attacked a guest,” he grated, his anger palpable. “Hisoka barely made it out alive.”

“Oh, Hisoka?” he asked, perking up instantly. “So he fought them off. You should send him back my way when he leaves. I liked him an awful lot.” Chrollo gave a derisive look at Silva, crossing his arms to resettle into a more comfortable position. “He actually cared to make me feel good, unlike some terrible lovers I know.”

Silva was nearly seething, which was a treat in itself.

“We aren’t lovers,” he snarled, searching for a way to no doubt yank Chrollo out of his perch. Chrollo smiled. Settled up here on the tree itself, there was nothing for Silva to destroy. If he wanted him, he’d have to come up and get him.

“You can say that again. Hisoka actually bred me, another thing putting him above you,” he went on, lazily dangling his hand to taunt Silva into action. Chrollo let out a heated sigh, remembering it. “He felt so good inside me, filling me up.”

“And yet you tried to feed him to your brood,” Silva cut, already scaling the tree, his eyes locked on Chrollo’s reclined body.

Chrollo simply shrugged, smiling. “And he came out stronger for it, now didn’t he?”

He watched, amused, as Silva climbed the tree with a speed far above anything a normal human could have managed. Shifting a little, he lifted himself from his comfortable sprawl and into an upright position, waiting patiently for the man to near him.

“You know, with the amount of anger you’re showing right now, I almost think you’re jealous that he got to hold me too,” Chrollo mused, skittering along the branch a bit to chase the moving sunlight.

Silva glared hot enough to feel from the base of the tree and it made him laugh.

Within minutes the man had scaled the trunk, graceful and confident despite his unwieldy size. Chrollo watched him approach, his footfalls almost silent as he walked across the branch and towards him.

Chrollo greeted him with a small smile, leaning up to meet the outreached hand that cupped his cheek.

Silva narrowed his eyes but stroked his cheek, coming closer to pet him. “You’re being awfully sweet, Chrollo,” said, voice distrusting but underlined with pride. “Even when you’ve been very bad.”

“I suppose that’s what happens when you try to tame wild animals,” Chrollo gave, his hands settling on Silva’s waistband as if to apologize.

Looking up through his lashes, he smiled. “Sometimes you get bit.”

It rang in the air for all of a second before Chrollo seized Silva by the hips and shoved him off the branch.

He had chosen this tree for a reason, lurking on it for far longer than he would normally, all in hopes of Silva seeking him out. The web itself was massive but hidden, the foliage of the autumn tree cascading down to mask the glistening white in a blanket of decay. From the ground, he doubted anyone would have noticed the web, especially when the spider was nestled on a branch, no silk in sight.

The trap had taken weeks to lay, but the moment Silva tangled in the sticky strands was the moment Chrollo knew it had all been worth it.

Silva thrashed and tore at the webbing but Chrollo was already on him, sinking his teeth into the man’s throat and injecting him with enough venom to put down even a beast like him. Blood rushed his mouth and Chrollo moaned, his fingers locked in silver hair, and he pulled back just to watch the man grunt, his face going lax.

“You’ve got some good tolerance with this body of yours,” Chrollo murmured, licking up the blood as it trickled down his throat. “Must have taken you a long time to build up. I wonder how much I’d have to inject to kill you.”

“Let me go, Chrollo,” Silva grunted, though his eyes were dazed, the poison not enough to dissolve his insides but enough to leave him reeling.

Chrollo smiled sweetly at him and set to adding to the webbing holding him in place, determined to keep him bound. “Why would I do that? So I can be punished for more bad behavior?” he asked, letting his hands run over Silva’s body. He bit his lip and untied the man’s top, loving the heat that greeted him.

Silva glared and tried once again to rip himself from his web. Chrollo bit him again, dragging his fangs down the muscled chest just to watch him hiss and go limp.

“Be good for me and shut up,” he laughed, moving next to the man’s pants. “You fell into my web. We play by my rules now.”

With the venom in his system and Chrollo giving him no time to metabolize, Silva could only go limp and try to hold his noises in, something that grew difficult the more Chrollo explored. Chrollo opened his mouth and licked at the man’s cock, working it to hardness with little difficulty.

“Chrollo!” Silva tried to growl, but it came out more of a groan, his body betraying him. The thought made Chrollo laugh and he hummed around the length in his mouth, betting that the man probably thought he was servicing him.

He pulled off before Silva could really grow fond of the idea but only after making sure Silva was covered liberally with his saliva. Silva really was enormous, and he gave himself a few minutes to play with himself, using his spit to get wet. So long as he got what he wanted in the end, he wouldn’t mind the pain.

It was a bit gratifying to see Silva staring at him as he touched himself, his slender fingers working in and out of his opening. Chrollo smiled and played it up, rolling his head on his shoulder and moaning as wantonly as he could. He closed his eyes, giving it to his own pleasure.

“Chrollo,” Silva grunted, and this time he sounded desperate, impatient. “Chrollo, hurry up.”

Humming, Chrollo opened his eyes and looked at him as if he only just remembered he was there.

“What was that?” he asked, moaning again as he slid another finger inside. “For a moment there it sounded like you thought you had the right to order me around.”

Hissing, Silva fought again against the webbing, his muscular arms bulging. “You’re mine,” he said, more animalistic than Chrollo had ever been. “You’re mine, Chrollo, so hurry up.”

Chrollo raised a brow and removed his fingers, leaning down to extend his fangs an inch from Silva’s eyes. “I’m really not,” he breathed, coating his fingertips in venom and dangling them above frozen blue. “And if you say that again, we can test how well your tolerance works in other places.”

Silva glared and his mouth went tight, dutifully closing in something almost like contrition.

“Much better,” he sighed and he looked down to the reddened cock, not bother to wipe the poison off before taking it hand. “Now let me show you how to properly treat a lover, Silva, since you don’t seem to know.”

Using his legs, he lifted himself over the prone man and teased his entrance with the head of his cock, shaking a little as fire tingled along his spine. Silva groaned but tried to swallow it, his hips pointlessly trying to buck and fuck into him. Chrollo pointedly refused to lower until he settled, and he grinned down at him when Silva seemed to realize he was using his own training tactics on him.

He waited like that for a few minutes and only deigned to sink down an inch when Silva went lax. The stretch was marginally better this time, not quite breaking him but not entirely painless either. Chrollo clenched his eyes shut and gasped as he carefully fed it inside, giving himself all the time he needed to recover before moving on for more.

Below him, Silva was a shaking, snarling mess. He thrashed and shook, trying to free himself to end the glacial pace. The movements were growing stronger the longer Chrollo waited and he sighed, easing down until Silva was fully sheathed inside him before he leaned forward to inject him again.

“You’re tolerance is a really annoying thing,” he murmured, letting himself adjust while Silva melted back into the webbing, pacified for the moment.

Carefully, he bounced himself with his legs, using the natural tension of the web to save himself some effort. He purred when all he felt was pressure and pleasure, and he kept the pace slow to savor it. Biting his lip, he rocked and rubbed, his cheeks flushing. He half regretted Silva’s hands being bound, but he comforted himself by using his own to touch his chest, moving down towards the stretched, full opening where Silva was sheathed.

“See how nice it can be when you take things slow?” Chrollo moaned, raining down kisses to Silva’s cheeks and mouth. “Now I feel good too.”

It took some effort but he managed to get Silva to kiss him back, though it took even more effort to get him to surrender control of the action and allow Chrollo to take the lead. Their tongues danced and stung with the poison still coating Chrollo’s mouth. Silva tore himself away first, his brow furrowed as he lost his composure.

Chrollo smiled and drove himself down harder, faster, using everything to his advantage to bring him towards his inevitable end. His intent was obvious, his pace hungry and single-minded. The man struggled weakly, trying to throw him off but Chrollo held him all the tighter, determined to get Silva to cum inside.  

“Don’t-” Silva tried to groan, but even with his commendable self-control, Chrollo refused to budge.

Chrollo tsked and used his legs to grind them together, Silva trembling with the effort of trying to hold himself back. “Inside me, Silva,” he moaned, eyes dancing. “You didn’t do it last time so I need you to fill me up until I’m overflowing. You’ll make such a strong litter. Don’t hold back.”

Silva made a sound as if he were dying and Chrollo moaned louder, wanting nothing more than to wring him dry.

He bounced and thrust and lifted Silva with his legs, grinding himself down until he stuttered through his own orgasm. Skin shredded under his nails as he clawed Silva, his own pleasure rolling through him like a wave.

Choking on his anger, Silva barely lasted half a minute. His eyes clenched shut and he bared his teeth, growling as he came inside Chrollo. The noises were so loud in the treetops, the wet, sloppy sounds growing deafening as Chrollo continued to move. Silva whined with over-stimulation but it didn’t matter. Chrollo luxuriated in the feeling, his insides so blisteringly hot.

Just as the man came close to barking out another order, this time to stop, Chrollo slowed his movements to a gentle rocking. Silva looked so strung out, his hair wild and half lost in the webbing. Gashes littered his chest, blood still sluggishly trickling from his throat. He looked every ounce the debauched prey that Chrollo adored and he shivered at the sight.

“I just love this body of yours,” Chrollo crooned, moaning a little as he pulled off his cock and played with the release beginning to drip out of him. “So strong, so large. There’s enough of you here to feed me and a full brood for days.”

 Playfully, he sucked his cum-covered fingers in his mouth, humming in pleasure at the taste. He fixed his eyes to Silva and gave him a dangerous smile.

“I think you taste good, Silva. I wonder how good the rest of you would be.”

Wide eyes looked at him and for the first time since he had known him, Silva showed fear. Nervously he licked at his lips, his breath coming faster from something that wasn’t exertion.

“Chrollo, Chrollo, don’t,” he said, his voice low and harsh, rough with growing panic. He tried to lean away as the spider pressed closer but Chrollo smiled sweetly, his hands tangling in Silva’s hair to forcibly bear his neck.

“I can’t reward bad behavior, Silva,” Chrollo explained with faux disappointment, his fingers stroking a sharp cheekbone. “You hurt me, broke my webs, left me to the whims of nature…I’m afraid this is simply your punishment.”

Silva swallowed hard.

Chrollo smiled wide, kissing his cheek. “Unless,” he whispered, licking and nipping Silva’s ear, “you apologize to me.”

“I’m…sorry,” he tried, growing more contrite by the second when Chrollo leaned back a bit to look at him. “I apologize, Chrollo. Please don’t.”

A moment measured in Silva’s pounding heartbeats passed by, the cadence rushing into a quick allegro as Chrollo began to laugh.

“Oh Silva, that was almost enough,” he sighed, leaning forward to seal their lips together. He pried open the man’s mouth when he lay frozen and forced a mouthful of venom down his throat. Silva convulsed and tried to thrash his head away, but Chrollo held him still, never breaking the kiss.

Only once Silva went limp did he pull away, licking his lips happily. Cold blue eyes stared up at him and he could see the poison take effect, Silva too weak now to even glare. His body really was impressive, letting him hold on for even a moment more after that. Chrollo settled himself over his chest, soaking in the warmth before it grew cold.

“Thanks for the meal,” he whispered in the man’s ear, and Silva said nothing, already gone.