The Lurker

The evening routine had been like any other. The glow of the phone screen illuminated the dimly lit room as the doomscrolling began. The news app had been the first stop, a stark headline grabbing attention immediately:

"Authorities Warn of Darkborn Sightings—Dangerous Creatures at Large."

It was official, direct, and gave a sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach. Warnings about monstrous beings, these so-called "Darkborn," were plastered all over. People were advised to stay indoors after dark, avoid shadows, and report any strange occurrences immediately. The article went on to describe their ghostly, ethereal nature—creatures of pure darkness that moved through shadows and left chaos in their wake.

But, like any seasoned internet user, skepticism kicked in. There was always another side to these things. With a few taps, the browser opened, leading to a less-than-official message board. A post with a much different tone sat there, gathering hundreds of upvotes:

"The 'Throat Goat Ghost' Is REAL—But She's No Threat (unless you're into that 😉)"

The post went on to detail some anonymous user's encounter with the so-called 'Throat Goat Ghost.' They described how this so-called Darkborn wasn't a menace but a sex legend. "Came so hard, thought I was gonna die... but in a good way," the user had written, with plenty of emojis and gifs to accompany the comment section. People laughed it off, some even chiming in with their own wild stories about how they got sucked off in their sleep by some 'shadowy babe.'

Despite the lighthearted nature of the post, there was an uneasiness in the air. Something felt off. The official warnings didn't just appear out of nowhere, and the dark room, with its looming shadows, only added to the creeping discomfort. Still, exhaustion from the day won out over the creeping anxiety. The phone was set down on the nightstand, and the room fell into silence as the blanket was pulled up tight.

It didn't take long for sleep to come, but it wasn't restful. The air in the room seemed to shift—just a little. There was a sound... soft at first. A faint giggle. Then, another. Almost playful, but eerie. The darkness seemed to deepen in the corners of the room, the shadows taking on shapes that they shouldn't. They twisted, warped, until one began to move.

From the darkness, something started to emerge. A figure—tall, voluptuous, and draped in black. The giggling grew louder as the shadows parted to reveal her fully. Lurker. Her lips curled into a wide, playful grin as she hovered closer to the bed, her long tongue flicking out briefly as if tasting the air.

"Fu-fu-fu~" The sound came from her throat as she floated just above the bed, her large, skeletal hands reaching out slowly.

You push open the door to your bedroom, the familiar creak of the hinges echoing in the quiet of the evening. It’s been a long day, and all you want to do is strip off your clothes, change into something more comfortable, and unwind. But as you step inside, something catches your eye. Your closet door is ajar, and standing in front of it, half-buried in your clothes, is a figure. A tall, curvy figure.

Lurker’s cloak hangs loosely over her shoulders, the hood still obscuring most of her face, but her lips are unmistakable—those plump, grey lips curved into a playful smirk. She’s holding one of your oversized shirts in her skeletal hands, examining it like it’s a prized possession. Two of your shirts are already discarded on the floor, stretched out and practically ruined, marked as hers now. But at least she’s moved on to the bigger ones... for now.

Her shadowy tail flicks lazily behind her as she slips the oversized shirt over her ample curves, the fabric straining to contain her body. She lets out a soft, satisfied "haah~" as she adjusts the shirt, clearly pleased with herself. The shirt stretches over her breasts, her nipples pressing against the fabric in a way that leaves little to the imagination. She glances in your direction, her smirk widening.

"Fu-fu-fu~" Her long tongue flicks out to lick her lips as she watches you, clearly enjoying the little show she’s putting on.

It’s the first of November, and you’re feeling confident. This is your year. You’ve got your mind set, your body prepared, and your willpower ready. You’ve told yourself that you’re going to participate in No Nut November. A whole month without cumming? No problem. You’ve done it before… well, almost. You’ve read all the tips and tricks, stocked up on distractions, and mentally prepped for the challenge. You're feeling good. Strong. Unbreakable.

But as the day drags on, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re forgetting something important. It lingers at the back of your mind, like an itch you can’t quite scratch. It’s only when the sun sets, casting long shadows in your room, that the realization hits you.

You’re not alone.

The room feels colder. The lights flicker slightly, but that’s not unusual. You try to focus on something else—anything else—but it’s too late. You know what’s coming. The air seems to thicken, and from the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of something… no,someone. You don’t need to look to know who it is.

Lurker.

You forgot about her. You always forget about her. Until it’s too late.

There’s a soft rustling sound behind you, like fabric brushing against the floor. Your heart races, but you keep your eyes forward, glued to the screen in front of you. Maybe if you don’t acknowledge her, she’ll go away. Maybe if you just focus on your goal, you’ll be fine.

But you know better.

A low, breathy sound fills the room, a familiar noise that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s a sound you’ve heard many times before—her playful, almost teasing exhale. You don’t need to turn around to know that she’s right behind you now, hovering silently, watching, waiting.

"Haah~" Her breathy exhale sends goosebumps across your skin. You feel her presence before you even see her—her towering figure looming just out of your line of sight. Her lips part in a wide, playful grin as she inches closer.

It’s only the first day, and already, you know you’re fucked.

You're slouched on the couch, remote in hand, half-paying attention to an old episode of Dragon Ball playing on the TV. Goku’s about to do some dumb shit again—like usual—but that’s the charm, right? You chuckle to yourself as you watch the goofy fight choreography unfold, Saiyan energy blasts nowhere in sight yet. The whole room is bathed in the dim glow of the TV screen, and everything seems quiet, normal.

But then, you hear it—the faintest, breathy sound, like a whisper of air slipping through lips. "hu-hu~" It’s coming from behind you. The corner of your eye catches a familiar silhouette leaning against the arch of the kitchen doorway. It’s Lurker. Her skeletal hand perches casually on the frame, her cloak barely hiding the luscious curves beneath. She’s watching you with those unseen eyes, lips pulled into a mischievous grin.

Without a word, she glides toward you, her body moving effortlessly as she crosses the room. She plops down beside you on the couch, her wide hips making the cushions dip dramatically under her weight. Her cloak shifts slightly, revealing her pale grey skin and her generous chest as she leans in close. Her long neck bends down, and her plump lips hover near your ear. That tongue of hers flicks out briefly, teasing your skin before she pulls back.

In her hand, she holds something small—plastic. She sets it down on the coffee table in front of you with a soft tap. It’s a pregnancy test. And next to it, she places a second device, one that looks like some kind of advanced fertility monitor. The display on the second device is clear as day: multiple fertilized eggs.

She doesn’t need to say a word, just lets out another soft, teasing sound. "ufu-fu-fu~" Her lips curl into that playful smirk, as if she’s waiting for your reaction.

Technically it's non-canon, so don't take all too seriously, dear reader.