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When you first wake up, you notice how your shoulders ache and feel tight.
Your mind is fuzzy, and your muscles ache as you try to get a feel for your surroundings. You squirm as best as you can, the rough ties you sense around your wrists rubbing your arms raw. You hear a gruff voice above you and a sharp pain in your ribs, knowing you've been kicked.
"Stand down, witch."
You bite your tongue as you feel the fury lapping at your mind. You knew many people assumed your apothecary was some 'covering' for far more nefarious activities, and maybe conspiring with evil spirits. Still, you always blew it off as some foolish musings.
Your head pounds as you try to gather your sanity, making an effort to recall what happened.
You can nearly taste the honeysuckle and wild lavender on your tongue, recalling that you were scavenging for more supplies on the far edge of the woods. You remember carefully rubbing the buds and plants between your fingers and taking a mild inhalation to differentiate the plants. You were alone, basking in the tranquil corner of the woods, knowing the townsfolk stayed away from the furthest edge due to their fears of the beings that lurked in the dark thicket. You felt the wind brush against your skin like a gentle caress and relished the feel of the soft earth beneath your feet.
That was, until you heard a twig break.
You froze, icy fear spreading through your veins, and your heart pounding in your ears as you slowly reached for your dagger, your eyes scanning the field around you. You spied nothing in the line of the trees and nothing among the rest of the greenery. Your muscles melted with a soft sigh as you shook your head, scolding yourself.
And then it all happened in a blur. The fabric over your mouth, coated in a syrupy, sweet floral smell, makes your body heavy and your eyes flutter. Your mind drifted in and out of consciousness as panic tried to seize it.
And then you were gone, lost in an inky and dreamless sleep.
And now you're here. Probably blindfolded and thrown over the back of a horse or mule from the feel of it. You feel the bumpy gait of the creature, and chew your cheek to fight the unease rising through your throat.
You come to a jerking stop and feel your stomach clench in fear. You try to feel for your ties, your fingers brushing rough rope as you sigh. It's beyond your reach.
Your kidnappers mutter back and forth before one of them seems to stand up off his steed, his footsteps headed to you. Your palms clam up as you try to stay as still as possible, but feel the panic settle as the person grabs you, tossing you over their shoulder. You squirm and, in your fear racing through your veins, dig your teeth into the nearest flesh. Your kidnapper curses and tosses you carelessly onto something soft and springy. Your saving grace is sticky but silky, reminding you of the robes the wealthy customers who entered your shop would don. You scramble to try to sit up as the kidnappers whisper heatedly back and forth, before one seems to stroll to you, their footfalls gentle and their voice soft. There was a tremble beneath it, and you could sense they were staying quiet for a reason.
Your hair stands on end, your stomach twisting with certainty of danger. But this time, you know it's something far beyond kidnappers.
"'M gonna take your blindfol' off now, miss. But you cannot make a peep, ya 'ear?"
You nod frantically, willing your body to stay as still as possible.
The gruff voice comes near, and you feel a faint brush of a hand, quick and gentle, tugging off your blindfold. You blink a few times to gain bearings in the moon's dim light. You squint and can see your captors are some significant, masked, masculine figures, one with a slimmer body build and pointed ears peeking out from his silvery hair. Their clothes and dark leather are unmistakable; the dark fabrics are perfect for hiding viscera and gore.
Bounty hunters.
Here to kill you? You're not sure, but it doesn't seem like it. The slimmer one crouches down to your level, eyes glinting with malice as they deliver their words to you, the sharpness almost equivalent to the dagger on their hip.
"We were sent to ensure the town was rid of you, little witch. Normally, I would handle the dirty work myself, but the employers were clear about their expectations. They wanted you thrown to the Weavers."
In the cold night, your chest tightens, your throat thickens, and your skin is cold with sweat.
Weavers are an ancient legend amongst the elderly Elf folk. According to the dark elves' constant appraisal and worship of Lolth, the queen of spiders, a legend emerged of a breed of dark elves said to be born of Lolth's praisal, made in her image, more monster than elf. The creatures are reported to be a blend of dark elves and the spider goddess, with an insatiable appetite for cruelty and darkness. They were banished from even the Underdark and Drow territories, noted as monstrous abominations. But the legends of them eating non-Drows still carry to this day.
While you know it is a silly rumor born of racism to dark elves (though some still worship Lolth, not all do, and often they are ostracized simply for existing and being different), you can't help but notice how the netting catching you is so similar to the massive spider webs you'd seen notated in warning in your apothecary journals. You squeeze your hands shut, pinching your nails into your palms as you pray to the heavens for protection.
Weavers or not, giant spiders themselves have large appetites, and you were caught in the web.
You swallow and do your best to stare head-on at the elf, hiding your fear. You pin them with a steely glare, your voice soft yet cold.
"If you do not let me out, I will scream loud enough to let all the creatures in the realm know there's a tasty meal nearby."
The elf scoffs, standing and looking to his friend.
"Do you think we-"
You feel the web tremble wildly as your stomach sinks and the two captors scramble backwards, running to their horses, one dropping his knife. They kick up a dust, not caring about the noise they make in their rush to leave. You scramble, twisting and struggling to unstick from the webbing, reaching down for the knife on the ground with your bare feet, trying to grab the handle between your toes. You toss the knife up, jumping up to avoid the sharp tip as it lands in the webbing, sighing. You attempt to twist your body to grab the knife in your trapped hands, gripping the wooden handle. You feel the tremble in the firm netting yet again, and your hands sweat as you feel your mind race, trying to saw at the rough rope between your hands, when the knife slips, slicing open your palm and falling to the ground through the holes in the webbing. Your heart pounds as the trembling becomes more frantic and you try to move through the sticky netting, cursing, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.
You should've never come to the edge of the forest. You should've never angered the town's folk with your medicine work. You could've just been a baker...or at least not called out the mayor's foolish wife for supplementing the small town with lead-filled makeup and sickening over half the women-
You're curled up in a ball and hiding when the trembling stops, the stinging in your hand going unnoticed. You feel a gentle tug on the rope and a loosening of your shoulder blades as you sit up, your vision blurry from the rogue tears running down your face. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to make out the stranger freeing you.
It's a long-haired man with dark, messy curls and light grey skin, clearly of Drow descent. You push down the swirling worry, scolding yourself for being so close-minded. Their eyes are a warm brown, unlike the usual red or steely grey of most Drow you'd met. They have a light dusting of freckles on their nose. Their voice is warm and welcoming, a syrupy honey to your ears.
"I'm not going to hurt you...Can I see your hand?"
You slowly hold out your hand, shellshocked by the stranger's kindness, as they pour some bracingly frigid liquid over it. The sting makes you hiss softly as you sniff, trying to regulate your breath. You catch a waft of spices and something tart like apples, and a mix of tobacco is there. You close your eyes as the creature dabs at the cut with something soft and silken, before wrapping it in a silken cloth and tying it gently.
You breathe in his intoxicating scent again, sighing softly. You feel your body lean toward him, your mind fuzzy, and your heart skipping a beat, inwardly blaming the aftereffects of the herbs the kidnappers used on you.
"Thank you, uh..."
He gently dabs at your wet cheeks and strokes your arms with cool, calloused fingers adorned with rings. Your skin prickles at how smooth and firm they feel, akin to porcelain. Their slight chill is noticeable, and his voice is once again soft.
"Edward. Most people call me Eddie."
You nod slowly and blink open your eyes, wiping away your tears as you look up. Once your vision clears, you feel your stomach sink.
A Weaver. You are face-to-face with a Weaver.
You freeze in place as your eyes take in the enormous creature before you, your heart thumping.
He is a pale grey shade with pointed ears, similar to those of an elf, but the similarities end there. He has what appears to be thicker skin on his face, with a more flexible and darker skin below, extending from the corner of his mouth out to his ear, covered by mandibles that frame his plush lips, each tipped with a fang. His bottom half is all spider. His abdomen is burgundy red with black and white markings, and his ebony spindly legs are probably your size. Even his hands, which you observed as cold, are different, the appendages appearing like a marionette due to the hard outer skin and the darker, more flexible flesh underneath, which is apparent when his joints bend. They’re each tipped with a black and sharp claw, similar to his legs.
Despite all these strange and almost monstrous features, you can't help but find the creature strangely beautiful. His lithe figure, his mess of curls escaping his haphazard bun, the silver jewelry adorning his hands, and the black breathable shirt fitting his slim figure. His markings are gorgeous and foreign to you. Even his smell is enticing.
You swallow thickly to curb your fear and shock over your draw to him. You blink at the creature, his head tilting in curiosity at your reaction. He frowns a bit.
"You're an odd-looking elf," He remarks, brows furrowed as he crosses one pair of arms.
Arms.
He has four.
You blink a bit, shaking off the shock.
You're odd?
"I'm a human," you croak out weakly, feeling lightheaded by all the strange occurrences.
His eyes sparkle with mischief as he smiles wide, blinding teeth and fangs on display, his mandibles spreading to allow it. His voice is full of mischief and humor, despite his stance.
"I know."
Your heart skips a beat as you stare at him, feeling your cheeks heat at how he looks at you. His gaze is more interested and sultry now, despite his hunched stance to reach your height. He inspects you like a meal. But not for sustainability.
For pleasure.
"S-so… you're a Weaver?" You question weakly, trying to calm the flutter in your stomach that you aptly note as butterflies.
How ironic.
Edward rolls his eyes and sighs. He sits down on the web and gives you a hard look, causing a deep swirl of remorse to rise in your body.
"I'm a Weaver, yes. But not all Drider are. That's the actual name for my people. I'm specifically a Weaver, but there are Huntsman, Jumpers, and even Earthenfur."
His tone dips into bitter sarcasm as he looks off into the distance, past the trees.
"Nice to know that despite years of peaceful existence, the world continues to use my kind as a monster of legend."
You feel your brows furrow as you shake your head, shaking off the guilt. You try a weak smile, offering out a hand.
"I'm so sorry. That was wrong of me to assume; I just - no, it was wrong. Let's start over again, shall we? I'm Y/N."
He looks to you hesitantly but shakes your hand, his calm and steady in your clammy palm. It's almost grounded.
"Eddie."
You nod and let go slowly, missing his touch. A deep, primarily trilling purr comes from his chest as he smiles again, brown eyes crinkling in mischief.
"I usually would prefer an introduction before you end up entangled in my web, but I suppose it'll have to do," he jests lightly. His suggestion lights up your face, despite your not knowing anything about his customs. You get the sense it's an innuendo.
He laughs softly before his nostrils flare gently. He looks you up and down and frowns softly, his face lined with worry.
"I should take you to my den. It seems your captors used a devil's lily blossoms on you. I can still smell it. It's not deadly unless consumed, but it can cause some serious harm."
You nod, taking note of that. You'd heard of Devil's Lily, but hadn't seen it in your area of the land, so you never had the experience of its smell. However, it explains the weird, floating sensation you feel and the almost drowsy feeling you experience. Perhaps even your strange lure towards the man before you.
He holds a hand out to help you, and you take it gingerly.
His lean muscles are on display as he easily pulls you up and out of the webbing, carrying you to his chest with his lower arms as he navigates the bridged webbing that climbs higher into the trees.
You feel your eyes flutter closed at the warmth and spice of his scent, sighing and melting into his grip. Your body is so exhausted and pushed beyond limits that you find yourself seduced by the notion of sleep despite the stranger holding you.
Maybe a little nap won't hurt.
You wake up wrapped in a soft blanket of fur, cushioned by pillows, slowly blinking the sleep out of your eyes. Your body feels worn, and your mouth is full of cotton; your stomach churns.
You sit up slowly, drinking in your surroundings as you clench your aching stomach. You are in a hollow of a tree, the place littered with books and art supplies, alongside instruments. You notice that the hammock-like bed you are in is constructed of silk rope; the material is sturdy but soft and cool beneath your fingertips.
You look up to see Eddie in the archway of the den, his imposing figure bringing about a gentle thrum in your heart. He smiles sheepishly, his mandibles moving to showcase his full lips. His lower arms are full of what seems to be herbs and spices, all packed in sheer bags. He heads to his hearth, the fire glowing softly as he grabs a tea kettle with his upper arms.
"Hello. I just went out to get some things to make you a tea to help with the aftereffects of the poison. Don't worry, I made sure to get some honey on the way as well, so it won't taste horrible". His tone is teasing and light, despite his fidgeting hands, which move the tea to the kettle along with water from the skin at his hip. You notice the lilt in his voice, the slight drawl to his words, like common might feel wrong on his tongue.
You look around in awe, voice worn from your raw throat. You wince as you speak. "Is this your den?"
He nods, rummaging around his abode, arms and legs always seeming to move. You focus on his appearance in the light of day shining through the entrance to fight off the acid sneaking up your throat.
He is wearing a well-worn black blouse with the human-style embroidery familiar to those from the southern mountain regions, altered to feature an extra set of sleeves, and an almost glistening silver fabric around his hips. Silver chains hang from his neck and rings adorn his fingers, even his ears. Though they are primarily covered in the porcelain ebony skin reminiscent of an exoskeleton, his six legs are also dotted with white markings.
"I'm furthest from the rest of the village, so you don't have to worry about meeting any other Driders. I used to live with my mother and uncle, but they've since passed, and now I get the den all to myself," He says lightly despite the furrow in his brows.
You note the sorrow in his voice, and he fidgets in the hammock as you offer your condolences.
"I'm sorry. That must be dreadfully lonely."
He shrugs, waving it off with his upper left hand. "Don't worry, I'm used to it."
He brings you the tea in an earthenware cup, his smile gentle. "Take care, it's hot."
You nod and accept the cup, holding it gingerly as you blow on it. Your stomach twists as you frown, wincing in pain. Your body feels weak and beaten.
He winces sympathetically, turning around to rummage through his messy table.
"I'm not an apothecary like you, but I know this poison. Unfortunately, it takes time to pass. You may be sick or extremely weak for a few weeks. It's best not to travel at that time."
You nod and sigh, your head throbbing as you slowly sip the tea. It's bitter and almost sour, causing your mouth to pucker. You shake it off as best as you can before speaking.
"I fear I don't even have a home to return to, what with my cursed mouth."
He rummages, his back still to you, his tone curious. "Did you cause some mischief back in your home?"
You scoff, the tinges of anger still bubbling in your mind at the betrayal that only passed a few hours ago. You gingerly sip at the bitter tea, the acrid taste soothing the flames of your fury.
"I was one of the few non-elves. I don't have or practice magic, and thus, they mistrusted my medical knowledge. Additionally, I confronted the mayor's wife. She had been supplying the village with a toxic powder to use as makeup and knew it had been recently banned due to its harmful impact. She nearly poisoned the whole town in a vain attempt to promote beauty."
His lower set of arms is busy with what looks like sewing and working on something at the table near him, but your head is pounding, and your eyes strain despite barely opening them. You try to keep the curiosity at bay as he replies to you, his tone clearly bitter.
"Foolish people despise what they cannot understand. Fuck 'em."
You chuckle a bit at his biting remark before wincing, the throbbing pain worsening. You take a large swallow of the tea and shiver at the horrible taste and bitterness coating your tongue.
You sigh and place the cup down on a nearby surface, lying back and mumbling, your worn body exhausting you further, the words barely tumbling out of your mouth as sleep pulls you deeper, "I may rest a bit more...thank you for the...tea..."
You fall asleep to the sound of a gentle humming and soft rummaging, your body cool and comforted by the pillow-soft bedding around you.
Over the next few days (or weeks? It's hard to tell...), you drift in and out of sleep. Eddie keeps you well fed, occasionally waking you up for a warm, comforting broth or a soft piece of bread. You begin to feel the ache slowly fade from your body, and your strength returns. You've finally managed to stay up for a day and consume more than just broth, when the restless feeling seeps into your mind and body. You want to get up and stretch your legs. Plus, you could use a bath. You smell a bit like stale sweat.
You sit up, gingerly lowering yourself from the bed. You hear Eddie before you see him, the scuttling of his legs familiar. He comes in, his brows furrowing as he looks you over, coming over slowly so as not to frighten you (you knew this was the case as you had seen him actually rush to grab you a bowl once when your stomach was churning and caused you to nearly vomit all over yourself).
"Are you alright, Enlil A'nun?" His voice was gentle, the lilting tone of his native tongue, and the nickname he often called you softly caresses your ears, making a shiver crawl up your back. You didn't know what it meant, but it seemed to you as though it was kind and lovely.
You nod, flustered at his attention. The drider was a handsome man, kind and caring, and oftentimes amusing. You were uncertain if it was his gentle nature or his tendency to make you laugh that caused a gentle tug at your heartstrings. You waved off the creeping attraction as you set your sights on him, trying to be determined in your voice.
"Can we go out to see the village? I am fairly restless after being stuck inside due to my poisoning, and I would like a bath...I fear I've come to smell like a corpse flower."
Eddie's brow furrows, but he chuckles a bit at your joke despite his wary expression. His mandibles shift down in a way you've come to learn is akin to a frown.
"It would be good to get you out for some fresh air-"
You smile widely, bouncing on your toes a bit in excitement, the thought of getting to clean up and explore a new village exciting to you.
Eddie's wary face melts into a soft smile, his sigh teasing as he shakes his head, sighing. "Alright, Enlil A'nun. We can go to the village and the hot springs. Just be warned, I am different from the other Drider in the village. I am a Weaver, but most in the village are Jumpers. I also am not a full drider. But they are all kind, just a bit wary of humans or non-Driders."
Curiosity swirls in your mind, but you push it aside as you nod, a smile spreading across your face. You'll ask him about not being a 'full' Drider later. "I understand."
Eddie begins to pack a sack, stuffing it with soaps and creams along with a strange silver coin you've never seen before. He offers his lower hand to you, scooping you up easily as he adjusts the sack at his side with his lower arms and begins to venture out of the tree, your heart racing as he holds you close.
You had climbed down the tree and walked for quite a bit, Eddie's leg speeding up the distance, but it was clear he was holding back so as not to jostle you too much. Your heart skips a beat at the kind gesture.
At last, you come upon a rocky area covered with long drooping vines and leaves of trees. Weeping Willows, you think. Eddie sets you down, guiding you through the hanging greenery and rocky terrain before you happen upon a large pool of water, steam, and heat rising from it. In the chill of the air, you nearly moan at the idea of the hot water lapping at your stiff muscles.
Eddie tosses in some herbs and what looks to be soap, his front leg dipping into the water and stirring it gently before he lifts it out, shaking off his leg. He nods at you, his smile soft. "The water should be ready now. I can leave if you'd like," He offers, a light dusting of pink staining his usually ashen cheeks.
You feel your stomach swirl in fear at being without your monstrous friend and shake your head, chewing at your lip. "No...no... You can turn around. I'd feel safer with you here."
He nods, the blush growing past his cheeks to the tips of his ears. You nearly giggle at the fact that this huge spider-like being is blushing, but don't want to push him to further embarrassment. He turns slowly, facing the nearest tree, before his voice, gentle yet raspier than usual, calls out.
"Just yell if you need help or come across danger, Enlil A'nun."
You hum in agreement before quickly stripping off your clothing and sinking into the water. A moan escapes past your lips, and you can't even bring yourself to be embarrassed by it. The water is delicious. It's warm and soothing to your worn and stiff muscles, with the smell of lavender and sharp citrus fruit wafting off it. It reminds you of your old favorite tea blend from childhood, bringing a smile to your face. You sink into the water, dunking your head to wet your hair, nearly moaning again at the sensation. You know there is soap in the water, but you want to scrub your skin and hair with some more, possibly using a rough cloth. You make sure your chest isn't visible above the water before turning and calling out to Eddie.
He turns quickly, eyes worried, before he sighs and melts at the sight of you in the water, clearly safe.
"Yes?"
You smile softly, trying to fight off the flusteredness that arises in you at the fact that if you were to move in any way, you might expose your body to the man who's been so gentle and caring to you. You ignore the tug of desire in your core.
"Do you have some more soap and some rough leathers or something to scrub with?"
Eddie nods wordlessly before rummaging in the sack and pulling out what appears to be a rough cut of thin leather, rough enough to scrub with properly. He also pulls out a hardened clump of soap, which he inches forward and hands to you with his upper arms, his lower arms clasped above the fabric at his lower stomach.
You inch toward the edge of the water, reaching out to grab the items, and are careful not to rise too far out of the spring. Your warm, wet fingers brush against his cold, porcelain-like hands. You retreat slowly, flustered as your brain entertains the thought of how his icy hands would feel on your overheated skin, and your cheeks run hot.
Eddie turns around again, his cheeks a dark, dusky shade, as his posture remains stiff.
You scrub at your skin furiously, trying to wash away the desire that still lingers.
When you finish, you find Eddie has left a soft fur to dry yourself off with, along with soft creams and oils to moisturize your skin and add to your hair. You sigh softly at how pampered you feel once you rub in all the creams and note how you smell so much better. He even left clothes similar to his own, but this time made with one set of arms. You slide on the gorgeous black silken tunic dress with intricate embroidery and leather boots, trying to ignore the shock of pleasure that shoots through you as the cool fabric slides over your aching nipples.
You clear your throat and smile in his direction as he turns, eyes raking over you slowly in a way that makes your skin feel aflame despite the cool air.
He turns away, grabbing up the sack and your dirty clothes, making you shake off the desire and stinging rejection at the back of your mind.
"Come, Enlil A'nun. Let us head off into the village."
You walk in silence to the village, heavily aware of the tension crackling between you two. You almost open your mouth to bring it up, when you smell roasted meat and your stomach pangs with hunger.
The village.
You walk a few steps more before encountering the likes of a short and stocky Drider. He has four arms, like Eddie, but his skin is a warm, rich russet brown, complementing his much more earth-toned and almost fuzzy abdomen and legs. His long dark hair is straight and silken, pulled back in a neat braid over his shoulder. He wears a thin, light, handmade blouse of what appears to be tanned hide, along with silver and beaded jewelry, accented by a silken, warm orange sash tied around his hips. You note how he's covered in autumnal colors in his fabrics and even on his abdomen, whereas Eddie often wears cool, blood-reds and dark blacks, similarly to his own lower half. He even has four sets of warm, auburn eyes without any white to them, and his skin is covered in a hard, plating-like material, with softer and more flexible skin below, as you've noted on Eddie, but it covers most of his human-like features. Eddie's plating only seems to be near his mouth and arms, from what you've seen.
He smiles a bit at Eddie and speaks, but eyes you warily, his language sounding like Eddie's occasional slip of his native tongue, but in a way, more of a singing quality to it.
He and Eddie speak for a few moments as you glance around the town, smiling softly. The village consists of homes built into trees and an intricate system of bridges and stairs. The houses are built into the trees, much like Eddie's den, but in a distinct style that seems much smaller and cozier, with rounded doors and small wooden porches. The intricate bridges lead to businesses and shops, and you smell the warm scent of earthen herbs and sweet berries lingering from some shops nearby. Small drider children shriek with joy and jump from bridge to bridge, their small statures making surprisingly large distances as they chase one another.
Your heart tugs at the thought of these people being spoken about as monsters when they were just...people. Beings. You feel your stomach twist at how you first approached Eddie.
Eddie pulls you out of his thoughts as he speaks suddenly, a gentle hand on the small of your back, his voice soft yet determined. "I will watch over her."
The shorter and more stout man nods, and his warm demeanor seems serious but kind as he nods at Eddie. "I will hold you to that, Edward." His voice is accented much more than Eddie's, but it still holds that light, singsong tone. He smiles down at you, his eyes warm and welcoming despite the apprehension he still keeps in his posture.
"Welcome, Y/N. I am Almurirr. This is our village, Kullidae."
You nod and bow your head slightly, smiling. "Thank you. It is lovely."
Almurirr smiles a bit, his mandibles clicking in what sounds like a pleased sound. "Thank you. I will leave you two; I must go attend to my heartsworn."
He hurries off, jumping between bridges and climbing up to a much larger house than the others. Eddie leads you with his hand still at the small of your back, his tone soft as your eyes continue to explore the village. It's been years since you left your home and saw something new. You used to live in a large city, but moving to a small elven town at the edge of the border seemed like a way to get some peace and quiet. You hadn't realized how much you missed this liveliness.
You breathe in the wonderful smells and sigh softly, smiling at Eddie. His eyes search your face, his smile soft despite his furrowed brows.
"Yes, Enlil A'nun?"
"Show me around, please? I want to know more about your home."
He flushes at that but nods, his voice raw with something you can't quite figure out. "Of course, my Enlil A'nun."
Eddie and you explored the village extensively, as he showed you the Jumper's common foods and clothes. He explained that many groups of Driders varied according to their location, and Jumpers could live either above or on the ground. The Drider overall were an isolated culture and often stayed away from most other groups, so the people of Kullidae delighted in seeing a human. They would follow your movements with curious eyes and tease you in common over your more diminutive stature and lack of plating or legs. They explained how they often met traders for goods, but most of the traders who came that way were half-elves or orcs. You even got to try some of the delicious pastries they ate, usually sweetened with a type of berry that grew high up in local trees.
When you returned to Eddie's den, your mind was churning with thoughts, contemplating whether living among these people could be a more long-term option. Though they treated you and Eddie sometimes with caution and distance, they were still extremely kind.
You were inspired for the first time in a while, sitting up in a chair Eddie had carved for you, your words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.
"Do you think that Almurirr would be okay with me staying and studying medicine in the village. I could help the local apothecary?"
Eddie blinked before turning to you, his tone a bit stiff and his eyes narrowed a bit.
"You would need to speak to Lialth. She leads the village. I don't see why it would be an issue..."
You grinned, heart and mind racing at the thought of your possible new home.
Which is how you were here now, with an older woman named Acurdia. She was kind but stern, and the village's apothecary as well as one of the older elders. She was showing you the local herbs and describing their purpose to you. You've been jotting them down as quickly as you can, in accordance with what she says their uses are, when you both startle at the sound of a commotion down below.
Acurdia walks over to the entrance carefully, her large stature filling the doorway. You barely caught sight of the small drider children giggling and racing after one another as you heard her sharp voice call out to ask what was happening.
"Niloth is courting Zarah! He's been practicing for weeks so as not to fall on his face," one of the children shouts back, scurrying off.
Acurdia's stern face seems to light up as she turns to you, her stormy grey eyes almost shimmering with excitement and eagerness. She gestures for you to follow as she heads down to the village grounds below.
Your curiosity is piqued as you ponder what the mating rituals of driders could be like. You knew different cultures often had different customs. Many elves embrace lengthy courtships with showers of gifts and parties. At the same time, you knew of Orcs who came from cultures where, oftentimes, the interested had to present a series of gifts to the family, or sometimes there was a need to prove themselves in battle against other interested parties. It just depended on the region and people. The driders all seemed excited to experience this formal declaration of interest, which made you turn to Acurdia and question what was happening, as you couldn't quite see through the crowd of people.
"What does the courting ritual consist of here in Kullidae?"
She smiled softly, her eyes scanning the crowd below as the two of you continued to descend the ladder.
"For us Jumpers, we often have courtships of dancing. This is a public declaration of relationship and engagement. However, usually the interested party, or in many cases, the male, performs a dance in which he must evade the person he is courting, or at least their rope. If she chooses to accept him, she will begin to dance with him before allowing him to tie her up and 'steal' her away."
You feel a smile tug at your lips at the very playful but romantic idea of being wooed by a dance. Your mind flashes with the idea of Eddie doing so, and you nearly melt as your cheeks heat.
"And the village watches?"
She chuckles a bit, carefully traversing the ramp down to allow you time to follow. "Oftentimes it's in support of the couple, and to cheer them on. Long ago, it would have been a more private excursion, as drider groups often had to travel and be nomadic. Now it is a joyous celebration of love."
You nod in understanding, now curious about Eddie. You knew he was a Weaver, but did he hold similarities with this group? And why did he live among a village of Jumpers?
You were pulled out of your thoughts when you arrived at the central courtyard in the village, surrounded by many other driders, making it difficult to see. You craned your neck, straining on your tiptoes to try and see the dance, but only succeeded at spotting the back legs of the drider dancing. You nearly give up when you smell the familiar scent of warming spices and musk, turning to see Eddie.
He smiles at you, his mandibles moving up slightly. He offers you one of his hands, the cold and hard skin comforting and familiar. You take it and nearly yelp as he takes the offering to use his lower arms to scoop you up and place you on his shoulder. The way he maneuvers you is far too easy and has your thighs clenching together as your skin. You shiver as you look out into the crowd and finally can see what the village is clapping and cheering for.
You spot a handsome drider clad in gorgeous colors to match his colorful abdomen patterns of blue and red, and you assume it's Niloth. He is expertly moving from side to side and dodging the silk rope that is (weakly, from what you can tell) lashing out at his legs. The female drider, Zarah, before him is larger than he is and stockier, with her abdomen much darker in tone and fewer flashy markings. She is fighting a smile, her expression overjoyed as she laughs while Niloth evades her rope with a bow before wiggling his abdomen side to side. The two are cheered on by the village, but clearly have eyes only for one another, as evidenced by their grins and Niloth's peacocking movements.
You can't help but smile when Zarah gives in to his dance, the two of them using one hand to touch palms as they circle one another slowly, before Zarah bows into a low curtsey. You see Niloth reach his back legs to his spinnerets to pull forward some webbing to his lower hands, circling Zarah slowly to tie her up before picking her up in both his arms, the village cheering and laughing as the two kiss and he leaps away with her.
The crowd slowly disperses with happy talks of marriage and young to come. You and Eddie bid goodbye to Acurdia, as she decides to let you have the day off, weakly citing that she gets 'tired quickly in her old age', despite her lingering grin.
You and Eddie travel in silence back home, your mind occupied with mating dances and public displays of affection. When you finally get back to Eddie's den, your mouth seems to disregard any sheepishness.
"What do Weavers do for courtship?"
Eddie stops in his tracks, his legs nearly stumbling into the chair he carved for you. His cheeks slowly darken, now stained a deep red. He clears his throat slightly, his body still tense.
"Uh...I mean... It's not nearly as grand as the village here. Um.." His fingers fiddle in the way you've learned often notates his nerves. He sighs and busies himself with starting a fire and grabbing a blend of herbs for tea. He speaks again, this time avoiding your gaze in what you're sure is embarrassment.
"Weaver males are usually smaller than the females... so most courtships consist of the male tying up and proving he is strong enough for the female. It's usually a lot more private, and afterwards they are considered mates. There are, of course, weddings and whatnot. I can't remember much of the customs surrounding it as I left my village a few years ago, and have mostly been surrounded by Jumper traditions."
You nod before your brows furrow, a question pricking at the back of your mind. "Why did you leave your old village?"
Eddie freezes again, his back to you, as he puts the kettle above the fire. His posture stiffens, and his tone is a bit sharper. "I think that's a story for another day."
You feel embarrassment creep in, ashamed that you pushed him too far, and your stomach swirls with nerves. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push." You walk over, laying a hand against his back gently as you whisper. "Can you tell me more about Weavers and courtship? Do you mate for life?"
Eddie coughs suddenly, spinning around slowly to face you, his eyes exploring the floor as he exhales softly. His voice is low and rasping, as if he can't bring himself to say the words much louder.
"We do have mates, yes. Sometimes it's an immediate pull towards someone without knowing why, sometimes it's a slow buildup. We find ourselves fiercely protective of them and wanting to give them gifts. We do the courtship and..."
His flush extends past his cheeks to his pointed ears as he avoids your gaze, and your stomach and core clench at his words, desire flooding your mind.
"Then we fall into a mating frenzy. It can last weeks. Some mates drive themselves to exhaustion that the rest of the village has to deliver food to them."
A gasp catches in your throat as his warm brown eyes, swimming with something so...dark...so...delicious, look up from the floor at you. He opens his mouth to say something right as the kettle whistles, piercing the air and the tension.
Eddie shakes his head before grabbing the kettle with his mitts from the fire and placing it on the table to cool. He braces his arms against the furniture, his back taught as his voice is raw with emotion.
"I'm going to head down for some fresh air. Feel free to serve yourself some tea, and call for me if you need me."
Your thighs clench, and your mind races. You want to reach out to him, to stop him from leaving and ask more- but you fear you've pushed him too far.
Eddie leaves in a hurry, leaving you to stand in his den, your heart fluttering and your body so aware of his absence that you nearly ache.
You sit on the ever-familiar chair at the table, grabbing a nearby mug and pouring yourself a cup of tea. You sip on it slowly as you ponder the idea of having a mate, and the curiosities floating in and out of your thoughts over Eddie having one.
You sigh as you try to ignore the creeping sourness in your belly, the tightness in your throat at the thought of Eddie having a mate. You hadn't seen any other driders come to his den, nor had you seen him have interest in any of the townsfolk. He had a few acquaintances here and there, but he never seemed to get close enough to them. He often looked at the people with a longing deep in his eyes, but you assumed it was because he wished to be closer to them. Maybe he desired a mate from the village?
You continue to sip at your tea, walking around the den, and allowing your eyes to explore the space. You could see a few projects laid haphazardly on Eddie's weaving table. You recognize some of them, such as the boots he demanded you let him try to fix as they were falling apart, and he worried for your delicate feet. He also took to embroidering them with red and silver thread in swirling patterns. You also notice the sketched-out map he had been making of the area for you, as he discussed before, his worry about making you feel trapped in Kullidae, despite your reassurances. But one project lies carefully folded and hidden beneath some excess fabric, like a secret, and is clearly cared for dearly. Your fingers reach out to touch it, and you nearly gasp at the soft, cool touch. It's clearly a tunic or dress of some sort, made with a shimmering silk that takes on an almost pearlescent sheen. The fabric is embroidered with spider lilies, roses, and other floral motifs. All the flowers are a brilliant assortment of shades of red and even dusky pinks. You feel breathless as you see the sleeves are folded back.
You could unfold it, you think, and find out if he really is interested in a drider.
Your skin pickles at the thought, heart pounding. Your fingers tremble as you nearly reach out to unfold it, your heart pounding. You are almost there when you hear the familiar shuffling of Eddie up the tree, and you quickly throw the fabric covering the item back, your heart sinking as guilt consumes you.
You move away from the table and over to the bed, wrapping yourself up in the blankets, trying to quiet your ever-churning thoughts as your heart sinks deeper and deeper.
You barely notice the tear escaping your eye as Eddie comes in and tucks a warm fur around you, gently brushing his cool fingers against your back.
You don't sleep a wink.
The next few days pass in a blur as you attempt to become accustomed to your new routine. You and Eddie come together every afternoon or night to talk about your day and share laughs. You become accustomed to his sharp tongue and dramatic flair, along with his passion for his art. You ignore the growing fondness in your heart for him and the lingering bitterness in the back of your throat at his wanting another.
You even get him to come into town more often with you, and he begins to become a fan favorite of some young driders who enjoy hearing his stories of adventure (even though many are heavily exaggerated). You jokingly tell him he has the makings of being a bard, if only he'd sing someone else's praises for a change. He nearly crows with an air of cockiness as he admits that he plays the lyre and harp, and sings sometimes. You had to fight the urge to steal him away and kiss him until he couldn't breathe.
It's one of the days when the two of you are walking back from town, laughing and smiling over stories of the day. You were grateful for the distraction as the day at the apothecary had been a hard one.
A young drider male came in, complaining of wanting to woo his lover, and asked for a herb to heighten both their arousals. You had handed him the damiana and guarana blend tea that Acurdia created for this reason and warned against excessive use. You had nearly felt your skin catch on fire in embarrassment and shock as the rider grinned at you in appreciation and stated proudly that he would use the tea to "have enough seed to make (his) dear love slick".
As your discussion dwindles, your mind drifts back to that statement. You nearly stumble on a branch as you're lost in thought, brow furrowed as you see you're at the hot spring. Eddie avoids your gaze as he blushes, fidgeting with his rings.
"Do you mind if we stop here? I fear the children ran me ragged with play sparring, and my muscles could use the soothing water."
You shake your head, smiling despite the ever-darkening thoughts swirling over his bare form. Gods, you are burning in the hells, for sure. "That's no problem, Eds."
You turn around as you hear his shuffling and moving of clothing before a slight splash in the water, and his voice ringing out. "You can turn around now, if you'd like."
You turn slowly, feeling your heart skip and your breath catch in your throat at the sight of him. His hard exoskeleton plating is visible on the planes of his stomach and chest, but the softer, velvety slate-grey skin fills the spaces between and the expanse of his back, as well as his upper arms. He has what appears to be a shorter set of legs in front of his hips, folded in. You spot a line between the legs. On the soft and velvety skin, you see various tattoos, the markings, runes, and things you had seen in some books regarding magic. His hair is down for once, the dark brown curls brushing his shoulders and now damp. You swallow as desire creeps in, your thighs squeezing together.
Eddie blushes a bit, tearing his gaze away, and sinking a bit into the water as if to hide his spider-like limbs. He works on lathering soap on his skin and turning his back to you. You see clearly now that gnarly scars accompany the tattoos, and your heart pangs with a sense of sorrow. Who could hurt such a wonderful man?
You feel a sense of resolve come over you, and your heart thumps wildly in your chest as you come to the edge of the water, beginning to strip off your shoes and tunic. Eddie hears the commotion and perks up, his voice sounding worried as he stiffens.
"Are you alright?"
You slowly delve into the water, the heat doing nothing to soothe the ache between your legs and the boiling passion in your blood.
"I'm fine. I'd felt like a dip in the water as well. Is that okay?"
Eddie startles and coughs a bit in shock before swallowing, and you can see his back muscles stiffen, his arms fidgeting in the water. "Uh-I-Yes... that's fine. I can stay turned-"
You swim around him to come to his front, the water coming to your collarbones, but looking up at him. You see that his cheeks are nearly maroon in his flusteredness, and his eyes are strangely dilated, that black almost swallowing his warm brown irises.
"It's okay. I trust you," You say calmly, working hard to keep the wanton purr from your voice.
Eddie nods woodenly, his hands still frozen holding the soap. You smile softly, your wicked intentions refusing to be ignored anymore. You hold out a hand in offering.
"Do you need some help washing your back?"
He backs up a little, laughing softly, his playfully cocky manner trying to rise as he struggles to hide his sheepishness. "I can wash my back fine, perhaps you should cook me a meal first-"
You grab the soap, smirking a bit at his soft gasp. "I can make you dinner this week." You walk to his side and around. You scrub first at the hard exoskeleton of his abdomen, the soft shivers and sighs exhaled from his mouth making your legs tremble. You try to stand on your tiptoes to reach his back around his expansive abdomen, but find his legs are often in the way. You huff a bit as he tries to reassure you that it's fine before you climb up on his abdomen, your bare, dripping core against his cool and hard body. You scrub at his back gently, fingers softly tracing the runes and scars on his back. His skin seems to tremble underneath you. You find yourself curious about the blemishes, recognizing that many of them are puckered, similar to scars you've seen that were left by arrows.
"What caused these scars, Eddie?" You whisper.
Eddie sighs, his shoulders dropping a bit as his lower arms busy themselves fiddling with braiding the thin leaves of a water-based plant he plucks from the edge of the spring. Your heart nearly cracks open at the sight, knowing he often fiddles with his hands when he is nervous. His voice is raw with emotion, and his usually silly demeanor is dropped.
"When I was younger, I was always an outcast. My father was a Drider, but he was known as a scoundrel. He fell in love with my mother, a Drow, who was kind to him despite the horrible reputation we have among them. My father, soon after mating with my mother, left to seek riches up north. She was pregnant with me and terrified, without familiar family or friends in a strange Drider town. My uncle offered to house her, and she agreed. Growing up, my mother worked hard to ensure I was familiar with my own culture and heritage. She schooled me in the embroidery of Drow in her part of the Underdark...taught me about the way of the people in the southern Mountain range, where her elven ancestors were from, as she wasn't fully Drow. And despite the village being wary of her, they accepted her as one of their own."
You feel your mind swirl with the information, now understanding Eddie's comments about not being a full drider, and explaining why he was missing some drider qualities. You hum in thought as you gently cup and pour water onto his back to rinse off some of the soap.
His lower fists clench a bit as he continues. "But I was a foolish teenager. I wanted acceptance more than anything. So when this young human girl stumbled upon our town and sought me out for refuge, I decided to help her in secret. She told me she was meant to be engaged and married off to a horrible boy in her village, and feared for her safety. I brought her food and supplies, trying to help her. I even got her to the Weaver village. They were nervous but agreed to hold her for a few nights and protect her."
Eddie's voice trembles as he continues to stare down at the water, before his upper arms scrub at his face. You continue to lather soap onto his skin, gently travelling up his shoulders. You feel the tension underneath them slightly melt.
"We didn't know the human village would come looking for her. They ambushed us with flaming arrows. My village fought valiantly, but many had to flee. I was trying to save her, Christine, and take her higher into the trees to hide until they left. But she slipped from my back suddenly, and when I tried to use my webbing to catch her-"
His voice is thick as he chokes on what you imagine are tears. Your heart aches for him as you gently massage his shoulders, aware of the apparent distress he is facing. He continues, his bitterness and sorrow evident in his tone.
"My webbing caught onto her neck, and my pulling snapped the bones, breaking them. She was dead before I even had her in my arms. I sat there, mourning a friend, a kind soul who deserved more. I was hit with flaming arrows from every angle before my uncle finally ushered me out."
You feel your eyes sting with tears, picturing a younger, less haunted Eddie finding a friend, only to lose his village and them in one night. Your throat tightens as you swallow your sorrow, pressing a gentle kiss against his shoulder blade. "I'm so sorry."
He holds out a hand to help you down, and you take it, sliding off him and coming around to his front, noting the red tinge in his eyes. His voice is soft and gentle yet rasping with sorrow as he takes a slow step back. "That is why I live among the Jumpers. That is why I live on the outskirts. Why I covered my body in runes- to keep any interest in me away."
You search Eddie's face, your heart sinking and your stomach seizing at the thought of him punishing himself for something so unpredictable. You inch toward him, noting his shrunken body and shoulders caving in. He backs up in response, a soft chittering coming out of his mouth, his mandibles lowering. His eyes are sorrowful, glancing at the water rather than you. Even his arms are wrapped around his midsection.
Your chest squeezes in sorrow, your eyes stinging as you think of how long he's held this guilt on his shoulders. Your skin prickles with anger still at the pain he's had, and even the way he is pushing you away, though you understand why.
"It's not your fault."
He glances at you, his brown eyes uncertain as his brow furrows. He laughs incredulously as he comes a step closer to you. His voice is pure venom and spite, the tone making your cheeks burn and your brows furrow. "It is. I am a monster. Not because I am a Drider, but because I am less than that. I fit nowhere. I have no village. No family. I did not seek out my people in fear. I am a coward, Y/N. A fucking coward."
Your chest burns in a fury as your fists clench, and you glare daggers at him, your voice rising to meet his poison, sending barbs his way in retaliation. "You were a child! You didn't know! You tried to save someone, and through an honest mistake, lost her! What is cowardly is the way you are hiding behind your mistakes to ensure no one can ever get close to you again!"
He blinks in shock, his expression open and less guarded for once. His arms slowly drop from their crossed stance, his eyes narrowing, his cheeks red, and his pupils dilated, his nose flaring in frustration as he waves his arms about, accentuating his emotions.
"What would you have me do, A'nun? Tell stories to the children? Play music and idle chatter with the village? Admit my desire for you?"
Your heart skips a beat as you catch his last words, unable to respond as he continues on his rambling, his expression fueled by fiery passion and frustration, causing your stomach to swirl with want despite your growing irritation with his idiocy.
"You are not a Drider! You are a human! You do not experience the aching need and want that is the mating call, nor do you know how my heart calls out in sorrow every time you leave my den! You have not seen how my foolish mind and heart are constantly building new things for you, making gifts, ensuring my den is fit for you, despite knowing you do not see me that way! I keep my distance to prevent further heartbreak out of cowardice and yes, selfishness! You are vulnerable and bound to go, whether in death or in simple parting, and I will be alone again! I cannot live with that...You cannot make me."
Your mind is swirling with outrage and desire, your nails biting into your palms as your fists clench even tighter. Though your heart sings in his admittance to caring for you, your anger bubbles over it. Your mouth cracks a sharp whip of retaliation.
"Fine! Stay alone! As I'm just a stupid and weak human, who clearly can't understand your affection and desire despite longing for your touch and constantly seeking your smiles! Since I can't possibly understand what it's like to lose my home, nor can I ever return your affection, even though I have laid myself bare before you. I shall leave you to your pity party and stop trying to show you I care for you, even without a mating call."
Eddie's face is shellshocked at your revelation. He reaches out, but he is too late. You swing your arm, splashing him aggressively with the hot water, the demonstration taking up all your force. The small wave hits him pathetically in the chest, but he still stumbles back, regret and sorrow clear on his face as you stomp out of the water, stubbornly putting on your clothes in a flash, before angrily venturing back to the village.
He could stew in all his melancholy for all you cared.
You've walked for about thirty minutes before you realize you're lost; your anger has now been replaced by embarrassment and frustration. You were so angry at Eddie's stubborn self-flagellation that you lost track of where you were heading. You glance around, shivering, as your damp clothes do little to help you in the cold night air. You sigh, cursing your own stubbornness for getting you into this situation.
You're exploring the nearby plant life and can discern that you're about 3 miles too far east, where the Hackberry trees grow thick. You groan a bit under your breath when you hear a rustling amongst the bushes. Your eyes scan the area, stomach clenching. You freeze, grateful that in your fury, you still had your small knife in your boots. Your hand inches slowly towards the instrument when you see a figure in the shadows. Your heart pounds as you remember the scent of the Devil's Lily, and the rope raw against your wrists. You school your voice to sound sure and sharp, your hand finding your knife as you stay crouched.
"Come out. I am armed."
A dark chuckle sounds as a figure emerges from the shadows, its hood and dark clothing still concealing its face. They stand tall, and despite the dark of the night and the cloak covering their body, you can tell they are humanoid in nature.
You point your knife at them, your voice calm as you pray your trembling nerves don't show in your grip.
"Show your face."
The figure slowly brings their gloved hands up to push their hood back, revealing pale skin in the moonlight, golden blond hair, and a dashing smile. Your skin prickles, your heart still thumping. You can't quite pinpoint what exactly it is, but the man before you seems off in some way.
You inch closer, your knife pointed to his face, your body tense. Your voice barks out in the darkness, "Who are you? And why are you following me?"
His grin doesn't quite meet his eyes, as his brows furrow a bit. His expression is akin to that of someone cornering a frightened pup, but with a hint of mockery. His voice is gentle but almost dry. "I'm Henry, a local nearby. I'd heard of some assassins and traffickers coming through this area, and wanted to see if there were any lost poor souls nearby."
Your brow furrows as you continue to point your knife at him, your heart still pounding. You fear that this man might have ill intentions for the village of Driders nearby.
"There's no town for miles-"
He comes closer to you, his expression sorrowful, but something bubbles beneath it. He tuts as he gestures to your clothes. "I live alone, but one hears words from merchants. My, your clothes are all wet. If you'd like, I can take you to my cottage, give you a warm meal, and help you to the nearest town."
You take a step back, a smile plastered to your face, hoping your unease doesn't show through.
"No, thank you, I will just-"
The man steps close again, and you swear you see it—a flash of hunger. Your chest squeezes as he mumbles a word, your veins seizing with icy pain. You're stuck in place, muscles tense as an invisible force holds you in place, unable to move. He comes closer, and his smile transforms from kind to sickening. He evades your knife as he traces a finger on your cheek, the feeling of his warm flesh making you want to scream, but your mouth cannot open. Your eyes sting with the threat of tears as your mind races.
You are in danger. Who knows if you will survive this time? You wasted time and foolishness on your anger, and now you will never see your sweet Eddie again-
You hear delicate rustling in the trees and around you, and you nearly feel your heart stop as a silken silver rope swings out and wraps around the man's wrist. His expression is bewildered and furious as he turns, only to be pulled viciously away from you. Your eyes struggle against the holding spell to glance over, and nearly sob with joy. Eddie stands there menacingly, surprisingly unclothed, so all his hard plating and lithe limbs are on display. He yanks the man to him, a low growl emitting from his mouth, his mandibles lifting as he bares his fangs, his eyes aflame with anger. He is sitting back on his back legs, the front two legs lifted in a striking pose. He is fearsome, a giant in comparison to the man, yet you find your body responding with want. You mentally scold your cunt for clenching as it does.
Eddie's voice is low and severe, dripping with anger, and it causes the mystery man to tremble with fear. Your skin prickles with goosebumps as you feel your muscles loosen suddenly, broken out of the spell.
"Leave. Now. Before I rip your throat out for touching my mate."
The man gasps in shock and disgust, scrambling to run away, quick to get away from you both. Eddie is still poised to kill, his eyes nearly black as your trembling legs stumble to him, your body still worn from the holding spell. He softens as he looks down at you, lowering himself to the ground, his upper arm reaching out to hold your face, his eyes glassy as his cold hand gently brushes your cheek.
"Enlil A'nun. I'm sorry for frightening you. Are you hurt?" He scans your body with his eyes, his care and tenderness squeezing at your heart.
You reach up to touch his face gently, the cold and hard exterior comforting. Your voice is a mere whisper as your skin prickles with adrenaline, your thighs still clenching with desire. "I almost thought I would never see you again."
Eddie chitters softly, nuzzling your hand, his voice sincere and raw with emotion. "I won't allow that to happen. You are my mate, woven into my soul and heart. My little flower."
You feel your chest tighten as your emotions overwhelm you, and your skin burns with a desire and passion. Your voice is trembling as you speak, but not out of fear. Out of need. Out of excitement.
"Eddie...my mate...Can you claim me like Weavers do?"
Eddie's nostrils flare, and his eyes swim with joy and uncertainty. His cheeks are dusted with a soft pink, and his hands fidget nervously. "Are you certain? I don't wish to scare you-"
You cut him off by coming up onto your toes and pecking him on the lips, his expression shocked and his body trembling as he leans back down and captures your mouth in a kiss, pouring his passion into the brush of his lips against you, his mandibles moving to hold your cheeks and allowing his mouth to open against yours. His tongue slips against you, causing you to melt against him and sigh, before pulling away.
"I'm sure."
Eddie nods, heaving breaths, making you giggle as he grips your hand and picks you up, rushing off to his den.
Your heart pounds as your core drips and your nipples harden painfully against your tunic.
You can hardly wait.
You tremble with excitement as Eddie puts you down on the ground near his den, his tone thick with desire and his hands shaking softly. He stares at you, his expression so raw and full of worry and care that you nearly melt.
"I'm going to use my webbing to tie you. The moment you feel uncomfortable or unsure, say Red, and I will stop."
You nod, nearly crumbling to a pile as he lifts your chin to look up at him, his tone stern. "I need words. I need to know you understand."
Your throat is thick as you nod and swallow. "Y-yes. I understand."
He hums in response, his back legs slowly pulling at his spinnerets, bringing forward his silvery webbing. His lower hands grab at it and make quick work of looping it on his arm before his voice cuts through the tension.
"Take off your tunic, please. And arms up, little flower."
You find yourself following the commands, your cunt fluttering in desire, the familiar pang of need making you wetter by the minute. Your nipples harden in the cold night air, as you feel your chest heave. You put your arms up, intensely aware of how your body is on display, how your skin is covered in goose bumps.
Eddie busies his upper arms with a gentle wrapping of the webbing around your wrists, before tying it to the branch that is above your head. His eyes are dark as his hands are busy wrapping you as if you are a precious gift. He then instructs you to fold your leg, having your calf touch your thigh. He wraps the webbing in a spiral before going back and expertly crossing the rope, his lithe fingers making knots down the crease made by your calf and thigh. His quick motions are confident and yet almost teeming with want. He makes quick work of securing your middle to the tree, so you don't have to hold yourself up before tying off your other leg in a similar fashion. You feel your skin heat as desire drips from you, your chest heaving. This position leaves you open for his eyes to explore your bare cunt. The rough bark of the tree is firm against your back.
Eddie's eyes search yours as he tugs on the ties, ensuring they are comfortable and still firm. You feel nervous and sheepish as you are now at his height, his eyes so deep with need that you think yourself clench around nothing. His upper arms work on caressing your skin before he brushes your nipples gently, eliciting a gasp from you. He leans in, kneading your breasts with apt attention, his lower arms gripping at your hips and sides, the cold and hard flesh causing whimpers to spill from your mouth. He alternates pinching and brushing your nipples, careful not to scratch you with his claws. Your back arches as you whimper.
He leans forward, his mouth coming around your left nipple, moaning in response to your strangled cry. He continues to knead your other breast and squeeze your soft sides, his voice gruff with lust. "You're so supple...Delectable." He scrapes his sharp fangs against your pebbled flesh before his mandibles move down and out, causing his mouth to open wider than you expect, his fangs and long, pointed dark purple tongue on display. He laps at your skin, the sensation almost too overwhelming. Your pleas tumble from your mouth, making his hands tighten at your hips, the claws biting into your flesh.
He gives the same attention to your right nipple until you swear your cunt is dripping onto the forest floor. Your senses are consumed by him, blind to the biting roughness of the tree and the nippy winds.
Eddie pulls away eventually, seeming to bend his legs to come down near your soaked core. You stare down at him, heavy-lidded as you see his lower arm come up to his mouth, his lithe pointer finger pointing at his mouth. Your brows furrow as you nearly question what he is doing, when he bites down on his claw, breaking it off and blunting his finger. He then repeats the same action with his middle finger.
"E-eddie, your-"
"It's fine, little flower. Claws grow back."
He uses his now blunt fingertip to circle your clit, causing you to squirm and whimper against the ties. You nearly hit your head against the tree as he again opens his mouth in that inhuman yet so delicious way, his pointed tongue flicking your cunt, bringing him to moan wantonly. You cry out at the sparking pleasure, feeling your body seize in pleasure, knowing an orgasm is soon to seize you. His fingers slowly circle your entrance, before entering you slowly, your back arching as your choked cry pierces the night. His fingers continue to pump in and out of you slowly, the cold and hard flesh making your toes curl in your boots. His tongue continues to flick and circle your clit, before he softly sucks at the bud, and his fingers curl, making you gasp as you realize the breaks in his hard outer flesh create ridges to brush just right against you. Your eyes nearly roll back as the pleasure crashes over you, your body trembling as you cum. He growls, almost feral as he continues curling his fingers inside you, suckling on your swollen bud.
He eventually pulls his fingers from your cunt, his mouth opening again to lick your essence off his fingers, moaning and eyes rolling back as he rumbles. "I could spend days between your plush thighs...drinking up your sweetness. But then I wouldn't be able to fill you up with my seed, would I?"
Your cunt clenches again, and your chest heaves as the desire builds up again, a pounding need in your blood.
"Please...Eddie...Mate me. Make me yours, fill my cunt."
His voice is gruff as he seems to swear in his native tongue, his lower arms going to spread your thighs apart as his upper arms continue pinching and gripping at your breasts. You look down and you feel your heart nearly stop.
His cock is hard and out from the slit between his hips. It's a dark maroon red, like his abdomen. It's ridged, covered with cum already. You spot two appendages on the sides of his cock, almost looking like maroon bent fingers. You can't even imagine what they're for. You swallow at his size, and find your curiosity and desire swirling.
"You've cum already?"
He smirks softly. "If you're asking if I orgasmed, yes. Your taste is divine, flower. But Drider males spill seed consistently...ensures good eggs later."
Your heart flutters as you clench at the idea of being filled up by him, constantly dripping cum. Your mind melts at the thought, swallowing roughly.
"And...the...protrusions?"
His eyes dance with amusement as he softly smiles, his teasing tone making your skin hot. "My pedipalps? They ensure the seed goes in."
Your chest heaves, your cunt dripping with want, and your mind consumed by the desire- no, the need to be filled.
His short legs in front wrap around your bottom, bringing your hips forward and his dripping member closer to your aching center.
His dark eyes burn into yours, his affection and lust stirring in his expression. "You are mine. My Enlil A'nun. My little flower."
You nod, whimpering, feeling the aching pulse of your core calling for him. He slowly pushes into you, his hips slow as he grits his teeth, baring his fangs. His tone is near animalistic, causing you to shiver as pleasure ripples through you. "Fuck." Your slickness and his cum makes entering much easier, but his size is still a lot to take in. He is slow and gentle, working to enter you fully. You feel something even bigger push into you, assuming it must be the 'pedipalps.' They take some work to get in but once they are, his hips still. You squirm a bit, the fullness making your skin prickle, all the sensations of his touch and desire edging you with pleasure. You nearly yelp out as you feel something move up and down within you, your walls rubbed as you can feel Eddie's cum continuously pumped into you, your eyes almost rolling back.
His fucking pedipalps. They were massaging his cum into your cunt. You nearly claw at the tree as your cunt flutters around him, his groans and moaning causing you to spill over the edge. You cum, almost boneless as he chokes out, "Fuck...little flower. You're so tight."
You throw your head back, your body alight with pleasure and your skin prickling from the sensitivity. It's so much stimulation that it borders pain, causing your eyes to sting. "P-please....Eddie...Move....Fill me."
Eddie growls, his claws surely breaking skin as he grips your breasts and hips, thrusting into you. You cry out suddenly as the waves of pleasure fill you, the moving pedipalps massaging your cunt in the most mind numbing way. You nearly black out as he reaches an intense rhythm feeling his cock move in and out, but fitting in right to the base. His cum continues to fill you and spill past, splattering at the base of the tree near you. Your eyes dance with stars and the pressure builds as he moans, his tone nearly feral with lust, his words beyond filthy.
"Fuck, Y/N. I'm going to fill you...Mark you as mine...Ensure everyone knows...My little flower... Enlil A'nun....Full of my seed...Until it takes....Gods, I am close...Your cunt is heavenly-"
You whimper and gasp, the waves of pleasure crashing over you as you cry out, your cunt squeezing out his cunt as he chokes out a cry. His head comes to the crook of your neck, fangs closing over your shoulder as your wetness coats his lower stomach, your body nearly collapsing into a boneless mush as his cum spurts out and coats the outside of your stomach.
Your skin is burning against the frigid air and your cunt almost aches. Eddie's cum continues to drip onto the ground below you, along with your wetness. The scent of your sweat and sex permate the air. Eddie pulls off your shoulder, the two of you panting. The sharp stinging in your shoulder makes you wince slightly, Eddie licking it softly which causes the spot to numb briefly as he mumbles his apologies and that he’ll patch you up soon. He slowly pulls off of you, illiciting a whimper from your lips, his soft cooing tone soothing you.
"Shh. Just helping you down, A'nun."
He makes quick work of cutting the sticky and silken webbing with his claws, scooping you up in his lower arms before kissing your forehead. Your heart flutters as he smiles down at you, his expression tender.
"Let's go home, my mate."
You nuzzle into his neck before you hear his low, teasing tone, his soft growl making your cunt clench in desire again, almost aching for him. "Have to make sure my mate is adequately filled. May take a few more tries before it takes."
You feel your cheeks burn as your heart thumps. Your mind swirls with thoughs of lust as you fight a smile.
Thank goodness you'd stumbled into his web.