My waifu is a neet and I'll never finish this story?!?!

You felt nervous as you rolled up to the dingy trailer hailing in the middle of the plain meadow. It wasn't that you didn't want to go in. You had waited two years to finally go in. What scared you was the thought of it being awkward; after all you had only ever spoken to her online.

You still remembered those fateful days on /mg/ when you were an anonymous writer. You'd get a lot of hate, but you also got enough praise to keep you pushing forward. One poster in particular even started calling you out and following your posts.

It wasn't long after that you began messaging with her privately, mostly at her own insistence. You remembered how terribly you blushed when she revealed she was a girl, and how excited she was when you told her so. It was silly but she was flustered that "You already consider me a woman!"

Well it had been two years and you were finally meeting up. This was going to be the first time either of you saw each other. She had described herself as an elegant arachne with a pixie cut and stunning red eyes. You had pretty much told her you were an average joe. She was so excited that your inbox was spammed for the next two weeks with all her messages begging you to meet up in real life.

Now you were doing just that. You approached the metallic door with rust already set in and knocked. For a second you swore you heard breathing on the other side. It was probably just an airshaft blowing air against you, you hoped.

The sound of her feet coming closer to the door sent a panic through you, they sounded like heavy stomps instead of the elegant footfalls of a spider. Then again you had already expected her to be a little heavier than what she said.

The door clicked as the lock fell away, yet it did not open. Her footsteps faded and she called for you. "C-Come in!" You secretly felt relieved to hear her stutter; at least you weren't alone in this worry.
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You entered her house slowly. Her humming carried out to you from the same place where a pleasant smell wafted out. She had been cooking for a while now apparently and whatever she was making smelt like a piece of heaven.

Your feet betrayed you as they led you closer and closer to the kitchen. You were helpless against that incredible smell that reminded you of homecooking if your mother had ever learned how to cook.

The pine door was set ajar, inside you could already spy the bloated chitinous shell of the girl you had known for nearly 3 years. She was heavy alright. You hadn't expected her to be this big, already a red flag shot up in your mind as considered all the ways to let her down gently.

"Anon? Come in! There's no need to skulk like a cockroach when I've made this feast just for you! You should get used to my cooking after all." Her voice was husky and deep. The kind of voice that you'd expect from someone packing on a lot of weight. Your second red flag shot up straight and proud.

You still hadn't got a good look at her yet however, maybe there was still hope that she had a cute face. You had never been in a relationship and you didn't really have the right to be picky.

Your hands pushed forward the simple door which gave way to the dining room/kitchen. A rustic scene laid out with a cracked bowl holding a fairly rich stew. Tendrils of steam still drifted from the thick soup bursting with ingredients.

The soup was good, but the reason you had come was the person holding out the bowl. Her red eyes were in fact stunning, a deep scarlet that matched the blush on her cheeks. Her hair wasn’t a pixie cut. It was a long messy wave of pure black hair that draped over her back and onto her abdomen. She also wasn’t what you’d call elegant. At least not by first impressions.

Those details weren’t important at that second, not in comparison with the spotless marble colored claws that decorated her hands, or the black fur growing from the palms all the way to her wrists.
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The large horns jutting forward from her forehead were also a surprise, just not as much as the white spears where her arachnid legs should have been. You weren’t sure if you were going to faint or run, but you were going to do something.

The final thing you noticed was your mistake, she wasn’t heavy or fat or even chubby. The only article of clothing was the heavy tarp with a skull painted on that covered her human crotch, that and the small roll of parchment that she wore like an eyepatch, a series of symbols etched into it with little coherence to you.

Her lack of clothing revealed her true strength. Abs that rippled with every breathless rasp for air. Arms that bulged with muscle as she held up the bowl of soup for you. Even the fur covered bits looked strong enough to tear you in two.

“I-Is something wrong Anon?” She called attention to her face, pale green skin pulled over a deceptively innocent expression. Her slight smile could only compare with the bags under her eyes from all the nights you had spent chatting.

“Ma-Maybe you don’t want to eat soup?” The smile widened lewdly into a shameless smirk on her face. Her arms set down the soup on the table before scuttling to you with a deliberate pace.

“Are you overwhelmed (by my beauty)? Do you want to lie down (with me)? Maybe we should reschedule (your chiropractor’s appointment).” Every step she swayed her spider hips from side to side while drawing closer.

You couldn’t help but shrink against the wooden frame as she did so. You had known her for so long, yet she felt like a stranger as she leaned forward. You could smell the sweat on her face as she smiled down on you.

You didn’t notice as the eye patch hooked on her horn tore loose, but you did notice her playful smile turned into a silent heaving breath. How her pupils shrank into dots as her hands grabbed your waist, and you definitely noticed her dry laughter as she ripped off your pants. “S-S-Soup can wait!” Her last coherent words before deciding to tenderize your hips.