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flowersandbigteeth · 6 months

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Meeting your drider general

A/N: It's the middle of October, so I wrote a spider story ^_^

There have been a lot of requests for NSFW drider content. I don't plan on doing any NSFW of my other drider character Vass (he is just too pure 😳), so this is a completely different story in a completely different universe, literally.

General Plot: You've been stolen from your home by a lich, who has declared himself King and assigned a handsome drider general to watch over you, his Queen.

Word Count: 7k

Drider (Ruvain) x fem reader

TW: arachnophobia! THERE ARE SPIDERS! (<- heavy spooky, spider content), a rather graphic death of a minor character, bondage, nsfw drider smut, some graphic violent talk, mention of self harm, yandere behaviors and talk

“You must do it again,” the lich who called himself King hissed at you.

You tried not to glare, tried not to imagine his slow, agonizing death. The amulet he’d fuzed with his body prevented you from harming him, though if you had a single second left in your life where that amulet was gone, you would use it to cut off his cock and feed it to him. You’d spend your last moments smiling as he bled out while he choked to death.

Instead, you lifted the spoon to your lips and tipped the soup into your mouth. It was delicious, as all things were in this castle, but you only tasted ash.

“Yes, that’s more like a Queen,” he cooed, brushing his hand over your hair.

His cold fingers drifted further to your cheek, and you forced yourself not to jerk your body away. Since you’d been captured only a few days earlier, you asked yourself if it was worth waiting to seek revenge. You could end yourself and join the family King Camus had slaughtered to obtain you in the afterlife.

Perhaps you were too much of a coward, but you liked to think that one day you would find a way out of this trap, and then you would take your revenge.

Camus was the cruel ruler of the country of Ventirest, where you’d been born.

You would have lived and died in the small town Cerulle, where your family lived as ranchers, if Camus hadn’t come riding through on a countryside tour. He just happened to see you leading a cow through the market and, in his words, “fell in love.”

That was a lie. Camus didn’t love anything but himself. He wasn’t a popular king, but he had that amulet and an army of monsters to keep the mostly rural country in line. You all toiled to pay his high taxes, though you made very little. He’d sent a page to your father to inform him you’d been chosen as his Queen and that your future was secure.

Perhaps your family would have thanked him for your good fortune if it were a different King, but your parents were only afraid. How long until he grew bored of you and snuffed you out? They tried to hide you, saying you’d run off, and they couldn’t find you. Camus sent his dogs to sniff you out, and when they found you, your family was punished for protecting you. They were all killed, everyone who carried your family name, and you were thrown in his carriage on your way to the Capital.

So, for the past two mornings, you’d wondered to yourself if this was all a waste of time. You pretended to be obedient. You did as he said and let him touch you, though you feared the day that his advances would grow more intimate. He’d promised you that you were lucky that he found you so desirable but was willing to give you a few days to “acclimate” before he forced you into his bed.

You shuddered at the thought of his cold body, which carried the stench of rotting corpses touching your warm skin.

“Master! Master!” one of Camus’ servants yelled, running in with a pile of maps and books in his arms.

“What is it?” Camus snapped. “I’m in the middle of an etiquette lesson with my Queen. What can be so important?”

“Of course, I would only interrupt you if it were dire!” the servant said, throwing himself to his knees in a bow. “And it is dire!”

Scrolls and books flew everywhere as he prostrated himself.

“Well, get on with it. What’s the matter?” Camus barked.

“There’s an uprising, Your Majesty,” he whimpered, afraid he’d be killed as the messenger. “The villages of the west, where you obtained your Queen, have sworn to overthrow you for stealing a child of the land! They mean to take her back to her home.”

Camus snorted, but your heart skipped in your chest. The people of the land came together for you? To seek revenge on your behalf? Your eyes misted with tears. You knew the people of the land were good and just. Their loyalty to a mere farm girl touched you deeply. Inside, you also wept for them. Camus was an immortal lich. You knew of no way to kill him. Many of the people who rode for you would die.

“I didn’t steal her! I am the Goddess's chosen ruler of this land! All women are mine,” he snarled. “I could take every farm girl in this country, and I would still not be wrong. Perhaps I will after I’ve rendered their heads from their necks!”

“Of course, of course,” the servant said. “I am only repeating the reports. I would never-”

“Ruvain!” Camus shouted to nowhere in particular, and from the vaulted ceiling, cloaked in shadows, a drider appeared, elegantly sliding down a length of silk. Despite and maybe because of his bulbous body and eight brown legs, he was incredibly handsome. His eyes shimmered a rich gold, and his hair matched, laying over his tan shoulder in a thick braid.

“You called, Your Majesty?” the half man, half spider, asked, his voice smooth as the silk he’d arrived on.

“I need to convene with my generals. Guard the Queen!” Camus snapped.

The drider looked a little offended.

“Am I not a general, Your Radiance? Have I been demoted?” he asked.

Camus let out a wet laugh.

“No, but you’re the ugliest of the bunch,” he chortled. “I can’t leave my new Queen with someone too pretty, lest she get the wrong idea. Your eyes alone would send any woman running.”

You felt outraged, not only that he questioned your character, but that he’d called this beautiful creature ugly.

The drider’s eight eyes met yours for a moment. They shined like gold coins, and you saw they held the same fire and hate. He, too, was putting on an act.

He gave Camus a deep bow.

“As you wish, Your Highness,” he said, and Camus ran out of the room, dragging the poor servant behind him.

When you were alone, you took the measure of the drider.

“I don’t suppose you’d agree to lose me accidentally, would you?” you asked. “I can just slip out of the window over there. I’ll give you a slap if you want to say I fought you.”

He let out a chuckle that made your heart flutter.

“It is wise to let the King have his way,” he said vaguely, though he circled you, looking more closely.

“I don’t like that he called you ugly,” you said, looking deeper into his eight gold eyes. “The only ugly one here is him. He smells like rot. You can smell that, can’t you? Everyone pretends…Anyway, I think you’re very handsome, actually. I quite like your legs, if I’m to be honest. And your eyes are…arresting…uh, in a…ah good way.”

At that, the drider smiled, revealing large, pointy teeth that sent a quake to your stomach.

“He bathes in perfume,” he commented evasively, rescuing you from your own awkwardness.

“Well, it’s not working. The perfumer should be shot…or maybe that’s just how bad he smells,” you said.

The drider looked amused.

“He hasn’t yet conquered you? Has he?” he asked.

“If I could stab him in the neck, I would,” you admitted, clutching the silver spoon you held. “Only it wouldn’t work, would it? He’s warded himself cleverly.”

“You don’t fear retribution? Telling all this to his general?” he asked, touching a lock of your hair and examining it.

“I don’t believe he’s conquered you, either,” you said. “I’d bet my life on it. You want out of here just as much as I do. What’s keeping you? You’re strong…and very stealthy, I might add. How long were you watching from the ceiling?”

He tipped his head, interested in you. Everyone around Ruvain whimpered and cowered in front of Camus; you were very different.

“Where is a monster like me to go?” he asked. “The village from where you came would never accept me. If I didn’t work for Camus, I would have to live in the forest, where some intrepid knight would come for my head on a quest, thinking I had a magic liver or some other such nonsense. I was stolen from a land far from here, and I’m unsure how to return..”

“So you bide your time serving that asshole?” you asked.

He looked thoughtful.

“I thought having access to the royal library would produce some results,” he admitted. “Camus pulled me through a portal. I can’t take a ship back. For all I know, he’s taken me from another universe entirely. In fact, that’s how he obtains all of his ‘monsters.’ To answer your other question, I’ve been watching you since you arrived.”

“And in all this time, you’ve found nothing?” you asked.

He frowned.

“Camus has a secret workshop that I think holds the answers I seek,” he said, “but I can’t get access to it. It’s warded, and if I tried, Camus would know and order my death. I have to approach it very carefully.”

“Slimy bastard,” you grumbled, and Ruvain gave you another of his silky chuckles.

“It is very frustrating, but I wouldn’t say I’ve found nothing. I’ve certainly found something,” he said, his eyes flashing.

“Well, is it useful?” you asked.

His eight eyes blinked in an eerie cascade.

“Only time will answer that question,” he said.

“Care to share?” you said, and he gave you a wide smile.

“We’ve only just met. I can’t reveal all of my secrets,” he said.

You scrubbed your hair and growled your frustration.

“Since I’ve come here, it’s been nothing but secrets,” you huffed. “I miss my ranch. I miss my family. He took the only good things in my life, and now…now I’m just a doll for him to dress.”

“Know this (Y/N): you have my protection,” he said.

You sighed.

“You don’t have to make me promises like that, Ruvain,” you said. “I know you’re only looking after me for Camus. I don’t need your lies. I’m all too aware of the truth.”

He tipped his head and gave you a curious look.

“You will learn the truth of things soon,” he said ominously.

You wanted to ask more, but Camus came in like a tornado, his face the picture of rage.

“How could they?” he snarled. “They are nothing…ants, and they think they can capture me? I’ll destroy them…crush them under my boot.”

His spooky eyes, milky white, turned in your direction.

“I’ll have you tonight!” he said, which seemed to cheer him up a bit.

He crossed the room and cupped your cheeks in his hands, meeting your gaze.

“You’re thrilled, aren’t you, darling?” he asked. “You’ve been waiting for my body, haven’t you? Saving yourself for me? I won’t make you wait any longer, and I’ll fly your virgin blood as a flag for those vermin to see as they arrive. Before they die, they’ll know I’ve taken you and filled you with my seed.”

He was too frantic, his eyes filled with madness, to notice your fear. You did not want him to touch you, and you weren’t a virgin. You trembled, wondering what he would do when he discovered that fact. It wouldn’t be your virgin blood on that sheet; it would come straight from your veins.

He clapped his hands and grinned, his crooked, rotting teeth making bile rise in your throat.

“I must prepare myself!” he beamed. “Our first night of passion and the counteroffensive must be timed perfectly!”

His eyes flicked to the drider.

“Take my Queen into the city, to the fashion district,” he said. “I want her to choose something just for me. A dress, lingerie, oils and perfumes!”

You were surprised he didn’t want to dress you himself, but it seemed he wanted to feel that you adored him, proving so with whatever you chose. You wanted to be sick.

“Don’t let me down, (Y/N),” he said, winking at you.

You gave him a tight bow.

“It will be as you wish, Your Highness,” you choked out, and he hurried out of the room.

You gave Ruvain a serious look.

“End me, Ruvain,” you said. “I’m too much of a coward to put a knife to my own skin. Do me this favor. I won’t let that…monster touch me! He’ll have fuck my cold corpse.”

Ruvain shook his head.

“There are so many reasons I won’t grant you your request, but the most important for you to know is that death will not end your misery. If you kill yourself, If I killed you…he would resurrect you…tie you to him for eternity,” he explained. “A far worse fate than a few minutes underneath him.”

Your heart turned cold as ice, and you gasped.

“No,” you murmured. “He can’t! I can’t…”

“He will,” Ruvain insisted, lowering himself so you were eye to eye.”Camus has no real magic but we can get out of artifacts. He experiments with alchemy. Reanimating bodies, fusing what few relics he finds to living hosts…But I told you. I will protect you.”

“How?” you gasped. “He holds all the cards.”

“Well, the window wasn’t a good option, but now we have some time to play with,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “First, we need to get a message out to your kin. They will only get themselves murdered coming here when we’ve just escaped.”

“Escaped?” you asked. “What do you mean? You just said you wouldn’t let me escape.”

He smiled down at you.

“I told you I would protect you,” he said. “I’ve been working out a plan since I first saw you.”

You blinked up at him.

“You-you have?” you asked.

He gave you a grave look.

“I’m no better than Camus,” he admitted. “I won’t return you to your countrymen, but I will protect you. In my web, you will always be safe. Do you…do you hate me?”

Your mouth dropped open, and you slowly shook your head. Your cheeks were burning like hot irons. The handsome drider thought he would take you for his own? Fear and uncertainty flickered within you, but Ruvain didn’t smell like death, and making love to him would be no hardship, assuming driders and humans could make love.

“Um..n-no,” you said. “I don’t hate you…”

He smiled, showing a white, sharp fang.

“That’s enough for me,” he said. “Now to your message. I have many spies that can reach out to your countrymen, but they won’t believe a warning coming from me. You must record one on a recording crystal. You’ll tell them you’ve escaped and are fleeing, not to come for you.”

He gave you another sobering glance.

“Once you record this, however, there is no doubt it will eventually fall into Camus’s hands. I have many spies, but so does he. He will know you ran from him, and he will spare no expense to find and punish you,” he said.

“Wait, wait!” you said, waving your hands. “What about you? You have a mission here. We can’t run away without whatever he has in his lab!”

He smiled again.

“Don’t worry your pretty head over that,” he said. “With a gorgeous companion, my time in this realm will be far more…pleasant. Returning to my homeland can wait.”

You took a step forward, setting a hand on his fuzzy leg.

“I don’t want to tear your dreams from you, Ruvain,” you said. “It’s not fair. My family is gone…they’re never coming back, but yours are waiting for you.”

His face softened into an expression that was hard to imagine a powerful drider would have.

“You’re still very young,” he assured you. “People assume dreams are static things, that they are losing something if they change. That’s not true at all. Dreams morph and blossom like flowers. You are stealing nothing from me and giving me so much more in return.”

Again, your cheeks burned from his tenderness. If he had some nefarious plan for you, he was doing a damn good job breaking down your walls.

He chuckled.

“Camus is going to be very angry when he realizes you walked right out of the front door to escape him,” he said. “I kind of wish I’d be here to see it.”

You gave Ruvain a shy nod, and he waved a hand for you to proceed.

“After you, my Queen,” he said.

—

The sun was sinking low in the sky when you climbed into the royal carriage. Ruvain walked alongside as it made its way slowly through the bustling city. The citizens were used to seeing Camus’s monsters running errands, and many of them had even made friends when they went to drink in the bars and visit the brothels.

They were much more afraid of who might be inside the carriage. No one wanted to be in the King’s eyeline. It would only lead to ruin. Ruvain had given you a recording crystal, and in the privacy of the carriage, you’d made your message and returned it to him.

You’d told those who would avenge you that you were escaping and going into hiding. You told them not to look for you for their own safety but that you would send a message later to assure them you were okay.

You could not tell them to drop their uprising. Those who would stand up to their King did so for many more reasons than a single woman; you were only the last straw. A revolt was a long time coming, so you sent them the Goddess’s blessing and only asked them to be smart and safe. Do not fly into battle blinded by rage, you’d warned. The King is wiley and immortal. You must be quiet and clever if you mean to unseat him.

Your heart pounded as you entered the fashion district. Ruvain insisted you needed to be seen shopping, or the King’s spies would realize you were running immediately. Ruvain worked best in darkness, so you would stay out until sunset.

You went to shop after shop poking around. Not intending to wear any of it, you purchased the most expensive, obnoxious items you could, happy to be spending the King’s money frivolously. Your heart pounded in your chest as the sun set. It was time to put your plan into action.

Ruvain took you to a spa to have you bathed, plucked, and oiled up like a dinner chicken. Only you didn’t do any of that. The moment you were checked in, you asked one of the ladies for the bathroom and slipped out of the back door.

Ruvain was supposed to meet you in the alley on the other side, and the two of you would climb the rooftops out of the city.

That’s not who greeted you when you opened the door. Yes, Ruvain was there, but he was surrounded by six of Camus’s monsters– three nagas and three minotaurs. Camus stood there, smugly tossing the crystal you’d sent in his hand.

“Tsk. Tsk.” he said, peering at you in the torchlight. “I offered you everything, and you chose to betray me. You should know this spider is a devil. He would have eaten you once you left the city. However, I am kind, and you are just a naive farmgirl; I’ll give you a chance at redemption. Come to me.”

He held his hand out to you. You growled at him. Now that your escape plan had been discovered, there was no reason to pretend.

“I’d rather he eat me one limb at a time than fuck your zombie body!” you snapped, then spat at him.

Ruvain gave you a glance filled with both worry for your mouthing off and also sudden determination. Camus’s face turned to one of pure rage.

“You snivelling bitch! You’re nothing! I could have had you and then tossed you in a ditch, but I offered you the world! To be a Queen!”

“You’re nothing but a filthy murderer who hides behind creatures with nowhere else to go!” you shouted. “Those who have come to challenge you do so with nothing but pitchforks and torches. They have more spine than you’ll ever have!”

“You won’t speak to me that way!” he snarled, the nagas at his side slithering towards you and one grabbing you by each arm.

“I’m going to let you watch while my monsters tear this traitor’s legs off one by one!” Camus promised, glaring at Ruvain.

His face had lost the fear it held and was only a mask of indifference.

“Perhaps,” he said, eyeing the minotaurs approaching him. “You are not the only one protected by magic. You know so little of the creatures you've detained."

He murmured some words under his breath, and in the flickering firelight, a wave of darkness roiled around you. It looked like the earth itself was writhing, a shiny black, living oil…only it wasn’t liquid. You couldn’t tell what it was exactly until the wave began climbing one of the naga’s bodies. Then it was all too clear; millions of spiders rolled over him like the tide rising.

His screams pierced the night air as he frantically tried to brush them off.

It was no use; the wave kept coming, and more and more spiders filled the alley, climbing the walls and smothering the torches.

“I’ll give you a choice,” Ruvain told the other monsters. “You can die like your friend is going to die…or you can hand me the girl and join me.”

“Don’t you dare!” Camus screeched, watching in horror as the naga’s face, covered in spiders, began to bloat, pustules forming and popping from their venomous bites until he all but dissolved in front of you.

The other monsters looked horrified, and a moment later, you stumbled to the ground as they dropped you.

“Come here, darling,” Ruvain hissed, waving a hand at you.

You scrambled across the ground, the sea of spiders parting in your path.

Ruvain scooped you up and set you on his back.

“You fool!” Camus snarled, tearing his eyes away from the bloated, deformed body beside him. “You can’t harm me! I’m invincible!”

Ruvain laughed.

“I don’t need to harm you. In fact, I need you alive,” he said. He nodded at two of the minotaurs. “Bring him. We’re returning to the castle. I’m sending you all home.”

Camus screamed and howled, but carrying him against his will was no harm, so his amulet did nothing. His only power was in the monsters he wielded. He carried no other weapons because he was arrogant and smug. His monsters would follow his order to the letter because they had nowhere else to go.

The minotaurs dragged him behind you through the back alleys. Everyone in the city knew not to meddle in anyone else’s affairs. Camus himself had set such a precedent. So they ignored his cries, as they’d been taught. Shutters closed, and doors were locked as you proceeded to a secret back entrance to the castle.

As you moved through the castle, the monsters you passed were quite happy to let you through. Ruvain told them simply that he was sending them home, and they fell in line, interested to see how this played out. They all had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

You stopped in front of a door covered in runes.

“Open it,” Ruvain barked.

Camus, still filled with pride, shook his head.

“Never! I’ll never bow to a bunch of mindless creatures!” he spat.

Ruvain shrugged.

“I can’t hurt you; we all know that,” he said. “But spiders crawling in and out of all your orifices for the rest of your miserable eternity causes no direct harm. I can’t imagine it will be pleasant, though.”

If Camus’s face could blanch, it would have.

“Let me go; I have to use my hands!” he snapped.

The minotaurs looked to Ruvain for guidance, and after a thought, he nodded.

Camus stumbled forward, turning three of the runes so they formed a pattern you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t seen it after it was solved. The heavy stone door slid open to a set of stone stairs leading downward.

“Let’s go, him first,” Ruvain said, shoving Camus forward.

The parade of monsters followed Camus into the darkness. You worried he’d tricked you all when you finally reached a basement that smelled of rot. You coughed and covered your mouth.

“What is that smell?” you asked, but it was soon clear.

The laboratory, if you could call it that, was filled with dissected bodies. Monsters, people, you couldn’t tell one from the other as they were all flayed like raw fish. The only other notable thing other than sets of alchemy tools, bits of metal, and flesh was a large round mirror on one wall.

“Hold him,” Ruvain told the minotaurs, “don’t let him touch anything. I know what I’m looking for.”

Ruvain set you on the ground and started shuffling through papers. He gave a cheerful shout when he found the right scroll and a small book. You peeked over his shoulder, curious.

“This is the spell to take us home,” he said, then showed you the book. “These are the coordinates of where he pulled us all from.”

“Now then,” he said. “Since we no longer need him, what shall we do with him?”

You all looked around the room,y our eyes landing on the torture equipment, disappointed you couldn’t just dissect him like he’d done to the poor souls rotting on the tables.

One of the nagas had an idea.

“Let’s lock him away, where no one will find him, and he’ll never escape,” he said, nodding to a small inset in the wall near the back of the room where a candelabra would normally go. It was just the right size for a body.

“I expect your silk is too strong to break with his fingers or teeth," the naga said.

Ruvain's face filled with an evil smile.

“That it is, friend!” he said, “I can spin a silk so strong even steel swords or fire won’t break it.”

“No! No! You can’t!” Camus screamed, but it was no use.

Locking him up caused no direct harm, so there was nothing he could do. As a lich, he did not need to eat or breathe, so a comfy coat of spider silk was harmless to his health.

He cried and begged, promising everyone in the room the world, but Ruvain simply took him in his arms, taking his time as he wrapped line after line of silk around him. The monsters listened to each scream and cry with satisfied smiles until Ruvain stuffed his mouth with spider silk and sealed it up. He finished wrapping as Camus whimpered, a mummy of white silk. Then he stuck him in the inset and sealed the whole thing up with a web of more silk. You couldn’t even hear him inside. From the outside, it looked like a nasty spider infestation but nothing more.

The monsters gave one another high fives as their task was complete.

“Now to send you all home,” Ruvain said.

He scurried over to the mirror, twisting and turning various runes until a world appeared in the glass.

“Home!” the minotaurs gasped, racing forward through it before Ruvain had even waved them on.

You winced, expecting them to shatter the glass, but instead, they passed right through it. They ran through without a single glance back. One after another, he put in the coordinates of each of the monsters’ homes, and they left, some of them thanking him, others so excited they simply ran before the chance passed them by. When every monster was gone, you gave Ruvain a sad look.

“It’s time for you,” you said, smiling a little. “You were my savior, and I can never thank you enough for that, but I understand you need to return home.”

He smirked at you.

“Now I can go home whenever I like,” he told you. “And perhaps I will someday, but now we have your world to attend to.”

You looked at him, confused.

“What do you mean? You’re free? Why aren’t you running like the rest?” you asked.

“Because my world never needed me and this world needs a Queen,” he said. “And a Queen needs her guardian knight and first general. With the word of their Queen, your world will accept me, not as a monster, but as your companion.”

He bowed in front of you, taking your hand and kissing it.

“I offer you my life, Your Radience,” he said, then peeked up and winked at you. “But don’t think because you’re my Queen, I’m ever letting you go. You’re mine, and we will rule this land together.”

He stood and looked around.

“Now, let’s get out of this filthy place. I’ll have the mirror moved somewhere that doesn’t smell like death and seal this miserable laboratory up forever,” he said. “I’ll be sure to make it look like every other wall in this castle so no one has the bright idea to go exploring looking for treasure and instead finding an angry lich.”

He returned you to his back, and the two of you ascended back to the empty castle. Footsteps echoed through the halls, and soon, you were faced with a bunch of farmers carrying torches and pitchforks.

“Free her from the creature!” someone shouted, but you held up your hands in panic, worried they would hurt Ruvain.

“My companion is not your enemy, people of the land!” you shouted.

They all looked at one another, confused.

“He’s one of Camus’s monsters!” one of them said.

“NO, no. You are very wrong,” you explained. “Ruvain has freed us from Camus and sent all of the monsters back to their homes. They never wanted to be here to start. Ruvain is mine. You will not take him from me!”

The villagers looked confused, but they’d noticed on the way in that no one had put up a fight. The monsters appeared to be gone, and the castle was empty, but what servants hadn’t run the moment no one was looking.

“Her Majesty (Y/N) gives me too much credit,” Ruvain said, smiling down at you. “She is the one that deserves your thanks for freeing us from the nasty lich. I am only her servant, bound by the same gratitude as you should be. She is my Queen and should be yours as well for her service to the kingdom. There is a power vacuum now that the lich is gone. Do you want it filled with some other despot who cares nothing for you or a woman from your own land? She’s brave, kind, intelligent, and beautiful. The countryside will welcome a humble Queen who is one of their own.”

Ruvain bowed to you deeply. The lead villager gave you an odd look and turned to discuss the issue with his fellow countrymen. A moment later, torches were extinguished, and pitchforks hit the floor with a clang as the villagers bowed as well.

“Long live Queen (Y/N)!” they shouted in unison.

You couldn’t help your burning cheeks, but you knew your kin needed strength, not a shy girl, so you tipped your head.

“I promise to serve you well,” you said as Queenly as possible. “Now, we must rebuild what Camus has broken. You are the bravest, strongest citizens of Ventirest. You came here knowing you would face monsters with only your farmtools and spirits. I can never truly express how your care for a simple farm girl moved me. I would be honored to have you form my guard if you are willing.”

“We will begin to rebuild tomorrow,” Ruvain said. “For tonight, you have traveled a long way, and the Queen has accomplished much in only a few hours. Let’s all rest. Run and tell the heralds to inform the people Camus is defeated. Tonight, they should celebrate their freedom.”

The villagers gave Ruvain uncertain glances, but mostly because it was hard not to be frightened by such a large creature, especially one with eight legs. You encouraged them with a nod, and they gathered their tools and took off to the barracks where the monsters used to sleep when they ran the guard.

“I’ve told you a lie,” Ruvain admitted when they’d gone as he sat you on his back.

“What is that?” you asked, your heart fluttering, hoping he wouldn’t let you down, that he didn’t do this all to trick you.

“I told them you needed rest when, really, I just wanted you all to myself,” he said.

His gold eyes glinted with mischief.

“Should I be worried?” you asked, your voice wan, and he chuckled.

“Only if you don’t like orgasms,” he said, crawling down the hallway towards the unused Queens chambers.

You’d have to fumigate the former King’s room and bed. It all smelled like rot.

Your cheeks burned again at his words, and a very special tingle shot down your spine to your core.

When you entered the room, he set you down on the floor, sliding the door shut behind you with one elegant leg. You watched, your heart racing, as he slowly and deliberately lit the fireplace, then the candles, casting your bedroom in soft, flickering light.

When his gold eyes finally met yours, they were full of hunger.

"You said you'd rather I eat you than for that lich to fuck you," he hummed, circling you to take in your form.

He lowered his head, sniffing your neck.

"I liked that," he purred, and a shudder that was something between fear and excitement rolled through you.

You let out a yip, as he pounced on you, taking you up in his arms and climbing gracefully to a shadowy corner at the arch of the vaulted curling.

Candlelight flickered in his eyes so that they glowed in the darkness.

Another surprised yelp echoed against the stone, mixed with the sound of fabric tearing as Ruvain ravenously stripped your dress from you with his teeth. Strips of gold and indigo fluttered to the floor far below.

“You’ll never don human clothing again,” he insisted. “I’ll have dressed made of spider silk, so you always wear my mark.”

When you were bare, he examined every part of you, all the white spinning web he crisscrossed to form a large nest for the two of you to rest.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you asked, your breath shaking as one arm, then the other was bound by silver silk.

He grinned at you.

"This is how driders mate," he hummed, diligently tying elegant knots to bind your limbs. Your legs were tied open, and your neck and hips pulled slightly so your back was arched, your breasts presented to him.

You had to admit the knots and lace he formed with strong, nimble fingers were beautiful and complex. You trembled both with a touch of fear and a lot of desire. His chest and arms were chiseled from a lifetime of climbing around lofty places. Your eyes followed his elegant movements.

The men you'd known from town were stocky and strong from a farmer's life of chopping wood and eating beef, but Ruvain's figure was all athletic elegance. His muscles were chorded and lean, flexing as he tightened one knot and then another.

It was a delight to watch.

When he seemed happy with the lace of web he'd tied you up with; his attention turned to you. A finger traced your breasts, then drifted lower where his eyes ate up the tender flesh between your thighs.

"I've been dying to taste you, darling," he said, glancing up.

His lips brushed yours lightly at first, and then as if you were a sweet surprise, they landed more firmly, his tongue pushing into you.

"Mmm," he groaned, tasting you as it slid over yours.

When he pulled away, he looked ravenous.

Lowering his head, he returned to examining you between your thighs, fingers parting your folds.

"I'm fascinated by your anatomy. Your two legs hide such a pretty treasure."

He circled your clit, making you moan. Never in your life had you thought being trussed up would get you hot, but your cunt was dripping for him. You squirmed in the soft silk bindings, testing their tightness. You were his prey. He could do what he liked to you.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, his head lowered, a long, searing tongue collecting the moisture at your slit.

"Mmm," he hummed, licking you with long strokes between pressing kisses onto the inside of your thighs. "I love how soft you are. You're going to feel so good on my cock."

His tongue explored your channel, making you let out a loud gasp.

"Mmm, Ruvain," you murmured, making him chuckle, the silky laugh that made your nipples harden.

"Are you eager for me?" he asked, teasing you with a finger as his eyes focused on your face, a smug smirk on his lips.

"P-please Ruvain," you whimpered, every inch of your skin tense and sparkling, begging for release.

"Be patient, little human," he purred. "I'm still exploring."

One finger circled your back hole experimentally before two more entered your pussy.

"Ahhh!" you mewled, twisting in your bonds.

He lowered his head again, licking and sucking your clit until your pleading and sobbing filled the room. His fingers worked inside you gently, the third teasing you where you'd never been touched before. You didn't know it could feel good, but he drove you mad. He brought you higher and higher until you cracked, and an orgasm bloomed from deep in your core and blossomed over your whole body.

Your nipples especially were tight and desperate for his touch.

He pulled his fingers out of you, sucking your flavor off the ones covered in your juices.

"Mmm," he said, briefly closing his eyes as he savored you.

When you'd regained your senses, Ruvain was perched over you, palming his cock as he watched you. His other hand pinched a nipple, twisting it gently to see your response. The eyes you were trying to keep open squeezed shut as he toyed with them, soon leaning down to play with them with his tongue.

"So sensitive," he growled, and you felt his sharp teeth nip at the sensitive skin, "and so vulnerable. You're all mine. I could keep you up here forever and torture you, making you fall apart over and over again for me."

"I need you, Ruvain, please," you whimpered, your eyes on the large shaft he was stroking in his hand.

The smile on his lips widened to show all of his sharp teeth.

"I do like it when you beg," he hummed. "Your sweet pleas are very hard to resist."

He didn't make you wait any longer, sheathing himself in your hot, wet cunt. He hissed, and his hands gripped your hips as he seated himself inside of you.

"You're searing inside," he groaned, sliding slowly out and thrusting back in with a bit more force.

You jerked in the silk as he drove into you for several strokes, purely for the pleasure of breaching you, before his sense came back to him. His eyes shone as he kneaded your breasts and curled his body down to you to invade your mouth with his tongue. It moved against yours, mimicking the treatment your pussy was getting.

His powerful hips slammed into yours, held firm by his web. You cried out in his mouth, and you heard a lusty growl build in his throat. He pulled back, leaving your lips wet and shining.

"That's it my sweet little human, milk my cock," he hummed, never taking his eyes off of yours.

Your pussy was doing all of the work since you couldn't move, squeezing and spasming around his thick cock.

"You belong to me. Every inch of your tender flesh; your mouth, your cunt, your cute little asshole are mine to use and enjoy," he growled, one hand clutching your throat while he pounded harder and more raggedly.

"If anyone else touches what's mine, I'll kill them, slowly. You understand? I'm never letting you go. I'll never tolerate a competitor," he promised. "I'll let you perform your duties as Queen, but if you ever let anyone too close, I'll steal you away to my homeland, fucking your pretty body until you forget about this world altogether. I’ll make you my toy. You'll cum when I let you and beg me for my seed…and I will make you beg."

His threats were lost on you. Your thoughts were scattered, drowning in bliss as he filled you over and over again. Your pleasure was at his mercy. He could give it and take it away as he liked. Fortunately, at that moment, all he wanted to do was give.

His finger circled your clit, while he sucked on your nipples, pushing you closer and closer to your end.

"Beg me," he demanded. "Beg me to let you cum."

You would have agreed to anything.

"Please, please , Ruvain, please, don't stop," you wailed. "You feel so good. Please let me cum!"

He gave you a devious smile at you as his eyes rolled back in his head.

"Tell me you want me to fill you with my child," he demanded. "Tell me I'm the only one who gets to spend his seed in your womb."

Your eyes squeezed shut, hovering just on the tip of an explosion.

"Anything you want, Ruvain," you said. "I'll carry your child. I'll give my body to you; just please don't stop!"

He laughed, pleased that you were willing to be his, and doubled his efforts. His mouth crashed against yours, pulling your tongue into his mouth and stroking it. You felt pleasure in places you'd never felt before. Your lips and tongue were sparkling. Your breasts ached, brushing against his chest, your nipples hard points. And finally, your cunt felt like a vice on his cock, his thick shaft hitting every sensitive spot.

You detonated in his arms, the world dissolving, and your only conscious understanding was Ruvain's scent, touch, and delicious, overwhelming pleasure. Colors exploded behind your eyes, and your body felt like fireworks. Your muscles went completely limp as Ruvain emptied his cum inside you. There was so much, waves of hot fluid gushing from your cunt. You heard it splash against the stone floor far below you from somewhere far away.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he breathed in your ear. "The moment he stole you from your village, you were mine. You may take time to feel the same tenderness for me, but I'm happy to wait."

He carefully extracted you from the nest he'd made, orienting himself so he could tie you to his chest with more silk to rest.

In any other circumstance, you would been frightened being so far up, but you felt perfectly safe tied to Ruvain's body, and your thoughts quickly muddied as you fell asleep.

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