Drows (dark elves) are notorious for not just their beauty but their belief that they are superior to every other race, including superiority over other drows. To drows, humans were not more than pets that kept and discarded via their whims. Luckily for you, you were a very good pet. nav
Cws: owner!drow x pet fem!reader, michi’s reimagine of a drow, monsterfucking, fantasy setting, collars, leashes, owner/pet play, begging, cock worship, rough oral (giving), cum swallowing, spanking, edging, thigh fucking, degradation, orgasm denial, creampie
Drows were some of the most beautiful monsters to exist, far beyond the sphere of anyone’s comprehension. They had gorgeous long white hair, their skins glistening, and their smiles oh so charming. Not only were they beautiful, but they were smart and far better in general than any other monster that exists. It’s only natural that drows were at the top of the food chain, and that a lesser human like you would be his pet. He had plenty of pets in his long life, but none he’d actually kept longer than a few months, not until he found you, his favorite pet.
You weren’t an extraordinary human by any means. Barely used magic, weren’t at all up to his standards, but he couldn’t help but find you cute. Maybe it was the way your eyes were averted to the ground so nervously at the middledark marketplace, only to be relieved to not end up being bought by a goblin, orc, or any other lesser monster. You looked at him like he was going to let you off easy, and to a certain extent he was, he would be so much nicer than those other monsters, so long as you were a good pet.
A good pet you were, adjusting to your role quickly. At first you were apprehensive, all jittery and jumping at every command. Now though? You’d improved so much, the perfect little lap pet for him, relishing in his presence as his lithe dark blue fingers stroked your cheek, tilting it so you were looking up at him from your spot between his legs. You stuck your tongue out and wrapped it around his fingers, keeping your focus on him as you sucked on them just the way he liked.
Humans weren’t all too great, but you seemed to be an exception. You understood just what he wanted and he appreciated it, giving you the privilege to pleasure him further as he pulled his fingers away with a pop, wiping off the stray saliva on your cheek before leaning back and spreading his thighs apart, letting you bring your face closer and lick him through the fabric of his trousers. You knew better to go too fast, your owner had all the time in the world right now and he liked it slow, no matter how much your pussy clenched around air in anticipation for his cock.
He could see the way your arousal puddled, you’re sure of it, as pets weren’t supposed to wear clothes that covered their bodies from their owners. You were one of the lucky pets who had a kind enough owner to let you wear a thin set of lingerie, the swell of your breasts, hips, and ass on display for him, lifting just the right areas that you were considered cute enough. You had come to love spending time with him, it felt intimate and so good, the collar around your neck the opposite of heavy as he tugs on your leash giving you permission to really start.
He was getting erect as his cock begun hardening, kissing the fabric all over while giving small licks. Using your teeth, you pull his pants down, repeating once again with the thinner layer that separated you from actually touching him. Your cunt fluttered again, excited and desperate. Slow lick and lick, closer and closer and finally you were given the permission to take it off, letting his hard cock spring free and slap you across the face with your owner’s precum decorating it.
It was a few inches longer than an average human’s, being almost seven inches. It was intimidating, but you had learned to not only love every inch of it, but take it down any hole like a proper pet should, all eager for their master.
Even his cock was beautiful, a deep shade of blue like his skin that seemed to glisten like glitter at the tip, not at all hairy and very well maintained. His cum also always tasted delicious, not at all bitter and more like a treat just like the fruits he’d eaten, and even on occasion let you have if you behaved well enough.
You pepper his hard erection with kisses, worshipping it as you begin to beg him to let you have the honor of taking it into your mouth. “Please, please..!” You plead, “Please let me suck your cock!” You stick your tongue out, opening it and let him imagine how good he’d feel if he would let you suck him off, mouth warm and perfect for his pleasure. The corner of his lips quirked into a smile, you really were the perfect pet.
With a tug to your leash you continued, eagerly starting with the gorgeous tip, sucking on it before going deeper and deeper, your owner pushing the back of your head, kindly guiding you to take him. He was girthy, but that didn’t stop you from taking him all the way to the back of your throat even with a gag and tears. You swore he was growing harder, your tears soaking his thighs that were clamping you in, and you would apologize if not for the fact you couldn’t even think. With his help, his cock slips in and out of your throat, slowly like there’s no rush before getting faster and rougher. He was a good owner, letting you slowly adjust before going faster—nothing like those brutish orcs, you’re sure.
Your jaw hurt, but you matched his pace for what felt like forever, fingers digging into your palms as you knew you weren’t allowed to touch, your drool hitting your breasts as it dribbled. Your collar tightens in your master’s grip, a groan escaping him as his hips jerk and hot cum shot straight down your throat, swallowing ever last bit of his thick cum as he grows flaccid, but not quite leaving your mouth. Not until he knows that not a drop spilled.
After a minute you can finally breathe, but don’t waste a moment. You’re pulled off him but dive right back in, cleaning him. “Thank you, thank you!” You say, utterly breathless, but drunk on his taste. Your tongue rolls over the slit, making sure to get it all as best as you can, kissing down to the base that your nose was just touching and sucking on his balls. They were equally pretty, giving them attention before a foot presses against your thigh: stop.
You’d kiss it if he let you, but he removes it pretty quickly once you got the memo. “Turn around, now.” You don’t hesitate, presenting him your soaked cunt and ass, face smushed into the floor as you try to look up at him, your leash tight and under his foot as his fingers grope and palm the flesh of your ass. The only fabric covering was thin and wedged between your ass at this point, his thumbs pressing in and pinching before giving the left side a rub and a hard smack.
Your body jolts, squirming in delight as his cock grows harder between your thighs and hovers your pussy. You desperately want to rub off on him but don’t, instead beginning to count. “One, thank you..”
Another, and another. All the way up to twenty, thanking your owner every single time. Your ass was sore and stung, your body breathless and dizzy as his cock every so often rubbed against you, edging you closer but not quite there. You swore you’d of cum from his spanking, but it just wasn’t enough, not his usual amount or force as he pulls back leaving you to whimper. Such a good pet, so obviously desperate for his touch.
His fingers dance around your pussy, filthy words making their way out of his mouth. “What a cute pet I have, a huge whore.” You moaned in response, feeling him rub your clit slowly, your tongue lolling. So so good, your thoughts were numb. You were so close, but no there was no way it would be that easy as he pulls his fingers away.
You’re flipped over, his long blue tongue swiping over his sharp teeth, a flush of arousal was sent to your owner’s cock seeing you so erotic and needy for him. Of course you were, you were a lesser human, a pet who was of no importance in comparison to him so there was no need for you to do anything but focus on how you could be a perfect pet and cocksleeve.
Pushing his rehardened cock between your thighs, he watches your thighs and breasts jiggle as he grabs you by the fattest part of your thighs, pushing them beneath your chest as he begins fucking your thighs. Your eyes rolled back as he fucked the flesh, the squelching noises filling the room as the scent of sex was heavy. Your nails were leaving marks in your hands, your noises getting as loud as they could while being choked by the leash, your thighs getting hotter as your body jiggled with each harsh thrust right until you were about to cum.. but it never came.
Once again denied. Your owner instead jerked his cock off just over your thinly clothed pussy—staining them with more of his cum and making a sticky mess of your thighs. They already were, but now they were marked by his release. You whimper, wishing he had just pushed aside the fabric clamped tightly between your pussy lips that was separating you from his cock.
You only had under a minute to plead, and you did. “Please, I promise that I’ll be a good pet, please let me have your cock, please use me!” You begged hard, and your owner couldn’t help being inclined to actually deliver, finally pulling off your panties and shoving them as a makeshift gag into your mouth.
He normally loves hearing you beg, but it was so beautiful the way you tried sucking what cum of his you could off as he aligned his cock with your entrance, making you see stars as he pushed in. By now you had already lost a bit of momentum, but your body was twitching with anticipation. You wanted him to make you cum, badly. You try to wiggle your hips, show your owner in absolute earnest that you truly want this and that you really are the best and only pet that he could want.
Pounding into you at the perfect angle, your owner sheathes all the way in and pulls out and gets progressively rougher with every thrust of his cock. Your owner’s groans and filthy words increase by the second, your body twitching with minutes passing before you cry out and your orgasm crashes through. Cum flows and flows, your high so euphoric and it doesn’t end, your peaked sensitivity increasing as he continued fucking into you as the gag could only muffle out so much, your moans and cries louder as he fucks you through your orgasm.
Not one, no, but a second and then a third. Truly, you had the best owner of all the underdark drow. For several minutes you had become a cum fucked mess but he hadn’t cum once, holding himself back and composed. Finally, your owner came unraveled all at once, your body limp as his thick cum fills your hole, your pussy squeezing him dry as you were on the verge of passing out. Luckily your owner was kind, and you were a very well behaved pet. He’ll let you rest for fifteen minutes, then it’s round two, letting him stuff you all night like the perfect pet.
michi really loves the concept of d&d, specifically the monsters but kind of hates having to follow certain things to a tee, and if canon then drows are like 5’0 for both genders, but michi is thinking mr. drow here and especially the lady drows deserve to be at least seven foot on a bad day, but that is just michi.
michi also worked really hard on this! what to next, though.. mmm michi needs ideas. michi has the most fun writing monsters that have lots of fantasy elements like tentacles or blue tongues, they just feel fun to write.
Your heart drops and your stomach lurches; you’re awake but you couldn’t be blamed for being unsure of it. Among the oppressive darkness, the only thing tethering you to reality is the jagged stone boring into your back and the faint sound of water trickling faintly in the distance. Cautiously, you prop yourself up onto your elbows and suck in thick and stagnant air. Strange soreness and disorientation freezes you in place as you try in vain to assess your surroundings. You try to blink away the night, and the night blinks back.
Red eyes, unmistakable, pierce through the short distance and straight into yours, from just a few inches past your feet. Realization seizes you, you’ve heard enough of the legends, and far worse than the unknown, you know exactly where you are and what’s in front of you. Whys and hows are rendered inconsequential. Your chest goes numb, as if your breath and blood have already surrendered to the inevitable, and with the fleeting air you have left you only manage to whimper out, “Drow.”
He doesn’t speak your language, he has no need to, but he’s all too familiar with that word. Something about your recognition excites him more. He’d like to teach you his own name, to hear it in that pathetic tone, but Drow will do. He can see your figure perfectly in his thermal vision, the way you tremble and quake, the way fear burns against your skin, but he’s missing the finer details in this blur of color. It would be simplest to keep you in the dark, but it’s not as if you have a fighting chance regardless. He hates to miss the intricacy of your expression, the only means of communication you have with someone so alien to your world under the sun.
Pink, fiery light slowly creeps along the ground around you and up the rock walls, spiraling a bit in either direction. His luminous magic unveils the cavernous landscape, and you both hold your breath as your eyes adjust.
You’ve never seen a Dark Elf yourself before, and any accounts you’ve heard have been retellings of retellings hundreds of times over, but he’s just as beautiful as any chronicler says. His black cloak obscures his crouched form, just as his long white hair hides the edges of his perfectly angular face, but even this mere glimpse is stunning. He has the awe inspiring allure of a sheer cliff shore among a churning, stormy sea. Eye contact isn’t broken as he slides closer to you, muscles primed waiting for you to so much as flinch away. You don’t.
------------------------------------
You watch him lose his composure, your own long abandoned, as he looms over your legs. Only now do his eyes lower from yours, lingering here and there as they lower further yet. You notice the quiet hesitation as he reaches out to touch your legs, and you realize this encounter holds a significance to him as well. You wonder if perhaps you’re the first human he’s ever captured, perhaps even seen, if you’re as rare to him as he is to you. While this is true, it goes beyond that. You’re the first female of any race he’s been close to like this before. In his matriarchal society, despite being a quite skilled warrior, he’s considered undesirable for being low born, and his broader than average build precludes him from reaching the high standard for finesse. His anxiety competes with his anticipation, but the latter handily wins.
Almost ceremoniously, he pries your legs apart, pinning them down under his weight as he leans in. He presses his nose against your inner thigh and you jump slightly, and the look on his face, that toothy grin, easily crosses the cultural barrier. He licks a stripe down towards your core, purposeful and deliberate, and shortly after he feels you start to relax, surrendering to his touch, be bites down. Your yelp reverberates off the walls, and it’s unsettling how unfazed he is by this. If it hadn’t fully sunk in before, it did now. No one is coming, you’re at his mercy, something his kind are not known for.
He looks up at you and his devilish smirk turns into a feigned look of despair as he mocks you, “Drow!”
He shakes his head and his smile is back as he dips his head back down, tearing away the already tattered remains of your bottoms with one hand as he pulls his mane over his shoulder with the other. You fall back flat and stare at the stalactite riddled ceiling. As you try to steady your own breathing you can hear his quicken almost into a pant. You sit together on the world’s edge for a few moments while he works up his courage.
An exploratory tongue darts out for a curious lick, followed by a long swipe up your slit, and then he’s lost control. His face pushes against you and his tongue is everywhere, ravenous but aimless. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, in fact he doesn’t know there’s something he should be looking for, but every time he passes against your clit your toes curl and you mewl. If he notices, he ignores it. Such things are not his goal, his only focus is the taste that is consuming him.
He continues to tease you in this way until you’ve all but forgotten the severity of your circumstances and your hips start instinctively bucking up towards him. He pins your legs down harder to stop you, but his chuckle betrays his amusement. He holds you there, watching as you whine and squirm, until you relent and you manage to steel yourself.
He lingers a few moments extra to savor your unspoken acquiescence before he begins again. Now, a finger joins his tongue, rubbing against your quivering hole. He gasps gently with you as he pushes it inside, and groans as he curls it against your walls. A few more feverish licks join in a frenzy, but this doesn’t last long, it can’t. What little patience he had has already eroded completely.
He rears back and quickly strips his cloak away, fumbling quite cutely to pull his pants down in a rush. There’s no dexterity in the way he positions himself above you, and although you can see the wild look in his eyes, he won’t meet your gaze, not now. The heat coming off of him is almost unbearable in this humid place, but you make no attempt to pull away. Even if escape were possible, you no longer seek it.
He tries to push into you a few times but grazes and misses your entrance, dragging his length against your pussy, acutely sensitive from his brutish teasing. His desperate growl sends a shiver down your spine as he catches just the edge again, and this time you angle your hips to aid him.
He sinks in deeply in one motion, caught off guard, and you both choke on the air between you. There is only a second of hesitation before he draws himself back and slams into you again, and then, as before, he is lost. There is no rhythm, no technique about the way he pumps into you, fast and deep with reckless abandon. One hand stays on your hips to keep you from running from the powerful strokes while the other reaches up and pulls your shirt up over your breasts. He watches them bounce in a trance, no attempt to hide the, perhaps embarrassing in a typical context, animalistic noises he’s making.
It doesn’t last long, it can’t. Your core is only starting to tighten with the promise of a climax when you feel him begin to swell inside you. When he pictured this, he imagined looking you deeply in the eyes as he finished, establishing total dominance as he bred the lowly likes of you. However, he couldn’t have predicted the sheer intensity of the real thing, and he resigns to burying his face in your chest as his hips jerk erratically, spilling himself with a pathetic whine against your plush skin.
He stays there as his muscles spasm in the aftershock, loosening his grip on you and instead settling to lay his full weight on you to hold you there with him. Finally, he looks back up into your eyes and contemplates his next moves with his regained clarity. He wonders how he’s going to keep you.
He’s not letting you go, he’s not losing you. He can’t, and he won’t.
It's been a while since I've written anything, sorry if this is a bit rough!! I've just gotten so much love for my previous drow story that I thought I'd make something to offer up as a thanks!
(That's in addition to the first 4 chapters of the first of the Willow Creek werewolves stories, which are now free to read for everyone on Patreon (except for any nsfw chapters, due to Patreon's rules for 18+ creators)
Long preview below the cut:
Hi friends. Sorry it's so late. It turned into an absolute behemoth (just shy of 12k words!) but I hope you enjoy it all the same. I had planned a cute kitsune 'rivals to friends to lovers' story, but since there's been an overabundance of furry canines on here lately with the Willow Creek lads, I thought we'd go for something a bit different.
It's set in the D&D universe/world, and as such, check the warnings for drow culture and attitudes.
Content: gn reader joins the Adventurer's Guild after a previously sheltered life, and gets sent on their first Trial with the Guild to the Underdark. They don't have to go alone, however, but while down in the caverns, things do not go as planned. After a life-threatening incident, they meet someone from their current lover's past, and they have to make a decision about the shape of their future.
Warnings: threat to life, arrow injury (not to reader), shock, discussion of sexual slavery of male drow by matriarchal society, mention of escape from that life, burn scar, non-consensual transformation of body (drider rite), insecurity about relationship's future, sexually submissive reader, sexually Dominant drow partner, sexually submissive drider, eventual healthy poly relationship. If anything else needs a warning, please let me know.
Wordcount: 11,969
Finding light in the Underdark might have seemed a contradiction, given that you’d been advised by your mentor at the Adventurer’s Guild not to bring a torch with you, or at the very least, not to go waving one around. And yet, down there in the chill, damp depths, there was light… everywhere. Lyal’lin had been right — while the Underdark was certainly aptly-named, it wasn’t a pitch black void either. It had its beauty, even for a runaway drow like Lyal’lin.
Still, your mentor, the gruff old duergar at the Guild had shaken his head at you and looked you — their newest recruit, and a rather (in his words) ‘soft’ human, with not all that much experience beyond what you’d gleaned in the city library’s vast archives — up and down. The cavernous sigh that had left his lips, puffed out through his short, wiry, white beard, had filled your heart with sinking dread.
“You’re not ready, kid,” he’d said, not unkindly. “I know Tara thinks she’s doing you a favour, sending you out for your first Trial, but there’s more you need to learn. And sending you to the Underdark?” He’d shaken his grizzled head, and then surprised you by doing something he’d never done before. He’d taken you by the hand and squeezed your parchment-soft fingers in his own sandpaper rough ones. “At least you’re not going alone,” he sighed again, patting your hand before letting go and stepping back as he cleared his throat.
You assayed a smile and nodded, a little choked at the older adventurer’s uncharacteristic display of affection for his new pupil. And to think, he hadn’t wanted to take on the ‘pampered child of some human noble house’ as a pupil at all. Well, you’d surely shown him, and everyone else besides. You rather suspected your comfortable upbringing was one of the reasons Tara had selected the Underdark for your first Trial. After all, if you survived a foray into the wild, fungi-infested depths and returned to tell the tale, you’d have truly earned your first stripes with the Guild.
In the six months that you’d been an apprentice, Maclen had taught you how to follow simple animal sign in the fields and woodlands around the town where that particular Guild House was situated; taught you to make almost no noise as you stalked through the underbrush — you were still working on that one — and he’d taught you how to recognise species of plant, fungi, and tree out in the wild. Evidently, things didn’t always look as neat and perfect as the immaculate illustrations in your field guide. He’d also taught you the basics of hand to hand combat — nothing fancy like the monk Tavrir’s training in the temple, of course — and the very basics of fencing and sword work. Archery was proving harder, but you were getting better and stronger each week.
Maclen hadn’t taught you to ride a horse though. He thought the beasts were ‘damned idiotic death traps with only half a functioning brain’. No, Lyal’lin had done that. A familiar giddy rush went through you as you thought about him. Maclen hadn’t yet told him he’d been assigned to accompany you on your Trial, as both your assessor and your guide, but you suspected the drow was not going to be happy about it.
You waited while Maclen briefed you on the rest of your task — the Guild had been contracted to go into the Underdark to locate and retrieve enough of a rare, deep mushroom that sold for an absolute fortune on the surface — and once the duergar was done, you nodded and took your leave, heading for the stables where you were sure to find Lyal’lin.
Sure enough, you found the drow with his head bowed, resting forehead to forehead with the huge, dark stallion he’d spent the last two years backing and training. It was rare for drow with magic to become druids, but, long ago, Lyal’lin had found refuge with an open-minded group of druids and had become a member of the Circle of the Land.
The stallion spotted you first, his ear twitching slightly, but other than that, neither of them moved, and you watched for a while, lingering silently in the doorway of the wooden barn that abutted the main manor house. Apparently the whole estate had been donated to the Guild in some rich merchant’s will seventy years ago, when Tara had taken it over as one of the Guildmasters.
You’d been grateful to the wood elf and her rag-tag crew of adventurers for giving you a chance. They were a rough bunch, and most with tough lives behind them for one reason or another, but while some still had their doubts about you and your ability to bring in cash for the Guild — and survive while doing it — none of them had been openly cruel.
Without looking around or breaking off from where he was rubbing his dusky, lilac-grey knuckles over the whorl on the stallion’s forehead, Lyal'lin chuckled softly and asked, “What are you doing, lurking back there like a cloaker?”
“You think I’m quiet enough to pass as a cloaker?” you replied, stepping into the barn properly and inhaling the sharp tang of horse and hay.
“No,” he replied honestly, lowering his hand and turning to face you with a wry grin on his scarred face.
As you took in the sharp planes of his cheekbones and jawline, you felt something tight and gnarled uncoil in your chest, and puffed out your cheeks with a huge, happy sigh. Tall, lean, and graceful, he was everything a pleasure drow should have been, according to the strict hierarchies of the matrons of the Underdark, but he’d suffered a spell-burn that licked up from his throat, over his left cheek and left eye, and across the bridge of his nose to the right side of his forehead. It had left the purplish-slate colour of his skin textured, and tinged with red, and he’d been phenomenally lucky to keep the sight in his heterochromic eyes. The iris of his right eye was black, while his left was a silvery grey.
Framing that striking and beautiful face was long hair, as straight and white spider silk. He’d shaved it close above his dagger-pointed ears, but kept just enough on top to have a tail that he usually wore fixed with black bands of leather along its length so that it fell down between his shoulder blades like a rope. In both his ears, along the whole length of them, little silver rings and studs flashed and caught the light in the soft quiet of the stables, and his dark grey lips curled upwards at the corners into the loving smile that he reserved only for you, and most often when the two of you were lying tangled between the simple sheets of his bed.
When he saw the look in your eyes though, he turned fully away from his beloved horse and strode over to you in three strides, his long, slim, leather-clad legs propelling him with seemingly effortless grace. He brought his hands up to cup your jaw. “What is it, love?” he asked, caressing a line across your cheeks with his thumbs. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you laughed, though the anxiety bubbling like acid on limestone in your gut rather eroded the true happiness of the laugh. “I’ve been given my first Trial.”
His mismatched eyes went wide and he beamed at you. “That’s wonderful! What is it?”
“You’re coming too,” you grimaced, “And I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
At that, the joy was replaced by concern, and he stepped back to regard you sharply, hands dropping to his sides. “Why not? Where are we going? And why me?”
He knew as well as you did that he wasn’t usually involved in the training and Trials of new recruits.
“I’ve got the answer to all three with just one word,” you sighed, looking past him to where the horse was watching your conversation. You wondered if the druid had cast a spell to speak with animals again, or if he had simply been enjoying spending time with the creature. Either way, their bond was undeniable. “The Underdark.”
...
Read the whole thing over on my Patreon right now!
Dude I have been gnawing at my cage waiting for just a moment to write this.
In case anyone forgot what Rekver looks like:
Also I went with gender neutral reader and Rekver because why the hells not? If anyone wants more of this let me know? Because there would very well be only one bed in the future.
The tavern was loud- far louder than such a small space should have been, but the sheer number of people crammed into the building was impressive. Considering it was the only tavern for the small town, you couldn’t be that shocked.
You held your cup tightly- some slightly misshapen metal, dented more than once- but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the strong wine in it, and that it was dulling the aches in your muscles, your joints. Your second cup already in far too short a time.
You didn’t care.
After the adventure you had had, you were just happy to have a roof over your head, a decent drink in hand. And, gods below, a bed in your future.
You glanced along the crowd, searching for your partner in all of this chaos. You could just make out the drow’s head, ginger hair streaked with fine gray, walking away from the bar, cups in hand.
Not once in your life would you have expected partnering with a drow- but gods, life was something spectacular and shocking, wasn’t it? Revker had disproven every rumor you’d heard about drow through out your life. He’d been the first you’d met- you’d never had much cause to leave your small city, which had never even hosted a drow traveler, too far from any tunnels to the Underdark was it.
Revker shouldered up next to you- not an overly tall man, but sturdy. Despite age, he lacked the dainty grace you had expected drow to have- he was lined in hard muscle, well earned over a life that extended beyond four centuries.
You couldn’t even imagine a life that long.
He held out a cup to you, a tankard clutched tightly in his other. You laughed, lifting up your current cup, letting the wine inside slosh around. “I haven’t finished this one.”
He grinned- a smile blinding, pulling at the lines along his mouth, causing the crinkles around his eyes to deepen. Age looked good on him. “Drink faster, little rabbit.”
You swallowed, feeling a curling heat in your belly over the little pet name. The first time he’d called you that, you were barely conscious, your blood staining his lap, his hands, as he nursed you back to the world of the living- kept you there. He’d sounded panicked.
It was the first time you’d notice him panic, too.
You lifted your cup, chugging the remainder of the wine. It made your head feel light, when you pulled it away, sucking in a breath. Revker only chuckled at you, this deep rumble from his chest that only made your entire body feel fuzzy.
You set your empty cup down on a small tablet next to you, and Rekver handed you the new cup- full to nearly the brim. “Careful, or I’d think you’re trying to get me drunk.”
He took a long pull from his own tankard- beer, strong as the tavern could brew it. He’d told you when he first ordered your drinks that wine made him sappy, and he didn’t want that tonight. “You’re alive, you’ll be sleeping in a real bed tonight- what isn’t there to drink to?”
You couldn’t argue, you only took a sip. The wine was good at least, and really, you didn’t mind the buzz. It would help you relax later. You planned to sleep as if you were dead. Gods, you hadn’t been in a real bed in so long.
You turned your thoughts back from a bed to your partner- but Rekver was looking past you know, the smile that had decorated his face having fallen away. His eyes were slightly narrowed, as if he was concentrating- the right a classic drow red, the left utterly black, even what had once been white. He’d never told you the story behind that- and you hadn’t pried. Yet. You’d told yourself on your adventures another night, over and over again. But how many nights were there left, really? You were alive, villains slain, and what more would the two of you need of each other-
Your thoughts broke off, sharp and jagged, when you heard Rekver setting his tankard rather roughly on the table. The hand that had gripped it so tightly was suddenly at your jaw, thumb pressing along the bone and his palm pressed to the side of your neck, fingers curling back into your hair.
You froze, like a little, defenseless rabbit, caught sight of a fire in his red eye- and then his mouth was on yours. For a single moment you didn’t move, didn’t breath, couldn’t fathom what was happening, what this meant, what you wanted-
Except you’d known for so long what you wanted.
You arched slightly towards him, reaching up to grasp his arm, felt solid fucking muscle under your curling fingers as you pressed your mouth eagerly back to his. Your other hand moved between you, gripped at the well worn material of his shirt, twisted it in your fist, as he tilted your head, got a better angle. Your mouth was pliant for him, ready to be whatever he wanted of it, of you- but when you didn’t feel his tongue take advantage, you tugged at his shirt, nearly forced him to stumble closer, your own tongue flicking at his lips.
If you could form a thought, you’d think he almost seemed surprised by the little noise he made. But his mouth opened and he took your less than subtle hint, his tongue tracing your lips. You let him in, let him taste the wine that stained your mouth- got the pale taste of beer, from his own.
His fingers tightened, against your neck, and when he pulled from your mouth you thought he’d press to the crook of your neck, drag his teeth along your skin, growl out your name and have you melting into the curl of his arm.
But after a moment and nothing, you opened your eyes. Rekver was looking past you, jaw set in a firm line. Watching. You turned your head, just enough to notice someone leaving the tavern- and the moment the door shut, Rekver relaxed visibly.
“He’s gone.” He pulled his hand from your neck, only to ruffle your hair as if you were a child. “Sorry little rabbit, shouldn’t have sprung that on you.”
Sorry? You simply stared in confusion, thinking there was no way the wine had hit you this hard yet. The older drow didn’t seem to register your confusion.
“I’ve seen enough in all my years to recognize someone in the skin trade. He had his eyes on you- good job playing along.”
You swallowed. “Right.” You paused. “Playing along.”
Rekver reached for your wine- which you didn’t even remember setting down, but you must have or it would be spilled all over the floor and him- and handed it to you. “Not that you couldn’t have flayed him with your eyes closed- I know what you’re capable of. But I’d hate to risk sleeping under a roof because we had to get our hands bloody.”
Rekver picked up his tankard, held it up in a mock toast to you.
“Hopefully a little kiss of necessity hasn’t soured the evening.”
He took a long drink, and you simply stared down into your wine. That was all it was- necessity, a lie to keep the evening peaceful. But why had it felt like something your fucking bones had been aching for, since long before your birth? Why did his mouth feel like a heat that could roast you alive- and why, oh why, did you want him to pull the flesh from your bones with those teeth, suck the marrow straight down his powerful throat?
Why did you crave so badly to be devoured by him- and why did it feel like it had always been there, just waiting for a single moment of peace to consume you?
I love your writing so much! Would you be willing to write hc's for Mollymauk and Essek being protective of their lover? Combat gone bad, hurtful mocking from strangers, shadows of their past, whatever you want to write. I'd love to read your take if you have time! ❤
Thank you, darling! (Both for the love and the creative freedom in this request <3) And aaaaah, purple bois!!
Requests are open!
~ Poet
Molly
On the battlefield, there's plenty of space for things to go in your favour, and for things to backfire in the worst ways imaginable. Molly, with grace and speed, is always by your side and ready to deal some damage to your would be attacker.
If you're not as accustomed to fights and are sometimes queasy with the inevitable demise of your foes, Molly always comforts you afterwards - he holds you to his body, tucks your face into his neck, and softly murmurs how proud he is of you and how strong you are. This tenderness is a stark contrast to the fighter he was minutes ago.
If your appearance makes you stick out like a sore thumb like his good self when you're travelling through settlements, he will happily do all he can to shield you from the unsettling stares by proudly flaunting his own demonic bloodline - he can take the whispers and looks as long as you don't feel uncomfortable.
Molly likes to mark you both in some way that ties you together - he gifts you jewelry to match with his, and he steals some of your cloaks, loose shirts and scarves from time to time to wear on his person. It's less protective and more possessive, but people do realise that if they have a problem with you, they also have a problem with your bloodhunter tiefling.
Essek
Squishy wizard as he is, Essek favours protecting you with his words and wit rather than his physical strength. Sure, he has a spell or two up his sleeves should you need his aid in a fight, but you know from experience he prides himself defending you in more... diplomatic ways.
You don't know how, but this man has dirt on anyone worth knowing. You could come home one day, complaining about a random person who gave you grief while you were out, and Essek just straightens up in his seat like "Oh, the daughter of the wealthy family north of here? The silliest thing; I recently heard from her distant cousin that she's been stealing right from underneath her fiancé's nose. Quite a cheeky young thing. It'd be awful for someone to come forward with that information... for her, of course."
You've got such a supportive, loyal, and scheming boyfriend. The day that you tell him about your life before you met is also the day that he puts his head down for hours upon hours of research. Whether it was a lover, a mentor, heck even your ex-deity/patron, it becomes his new quest to find all the information he can gather to outsmart your enemies, if it must come to that. He will not lose you to an unworthy shadow of your past. He promises you this.
Likes to have people on his side to help him sort out any troubles you've been having. A soldier hassled you in the street? He's organised dinner with you and Verin this weekend to discuss punishment. A noble has attempted to blackmail you? Essek has summoned the Nein to ruffle some feathers. Having friends and connections keeps his mind at ease in relation to keeping you safe.
Male Drow (Dark Elf Vevmis) x Human! Female Reader Part 3
Warnings for mild language. Vevmis is not so good when it comes to other humans.
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5
Warning: mild language and threats
The Underestimated Part 3
The spiders dangled around the size of hounds in his dreams, watching with their many eyes in the void of their home.
Their home - his once - had been for his brothers, the blade for the morning shadow, he had fought with him for carnage, but now he was a traitor, stood beneath them with their fangs sharpened.
He was supposed to be here in the afterlife - or what was an afterlife in the eyes of his kind - yet Vevmis knew it as one, purple light softly glowing through the cave as whatever lurked grew close.
His sister was there, his mother too, all in shapes of spides, and the people he had known his long life too, some in the forms of arachnids and driders; some who had judged and betrayed him just as much as he had too.
His family and his blade stood before him in a circle, blades sharpened with the crimson crescent in the hilt. He had on their armour in shame and now dwelled where the light races did.
They did not speak to another nor to him, but the judgement was clear in their eyes at the way they looked down upon him. He was never like one of them; their black sclera and red eyes were one of the main reasons in contrast.
He was just surviving, surviving for all his life with the people who he didn't even feel pride for. His blood - informers to one another - were no different from him.
Before him, the circle tightened, and he stood in their trial, awaiting their verdict. The ground dampened like water soaking through the soils, Vevmis could feel the black water seep into his bare skin, the ground shaking with every step of something.
Before him, the drider goddess stood in all her grandeur, the Mother herself of destruction and the presage of chaos, she crawled her way through to stand before him, eyes glowing with rubies attached above her many eyes.
"They speak of your verdict, Vevmis, son of Orgolldiirn. Your fate has been already sealed."
He had awoken to pain in his stomach and rainwater dripping in his eyes, he had scrambled and crawled away to hide and throw everything up in his stomach into the dirt; nothing but clear bile being there but the pain had disappeared.
His skin was raw and senseless, the cold of the outside was something he would be used to, but he and his companion had run out of coin easily and meant it was more difficult to find places above inns to stay in.
His obsidian skin was sweating as he fanned himself, coming back to the area they had been sleeping in, the fires numbingly bitter now that they were dimmed out.
From this angle, Vevmis could see you, sleeping soundly with no noise coming from you. He was lucky he had been trained in the art of stealth and you hadn't been awoken to him throwing up everywhere.
No, he didn't want to seem weak in front of you, that had happened already, and never again.
He had been exposed back then, and he didn't like that one bit, and Vevmis was always for himself and no-one else.
He ran his shaking hands through his silver tresses, wet from droplets but not enough to soak him to the bone. His dreams were vivid, and although elves of both dark and light in counterpart didn't exactly sleep the same way as humans did, he was certain that what he had had was more of a nightmare.
He couldn't stir away from the feeling of being watched, even now when he closed his eyes. It felt everyone was to be against him more so than they already were.
And now, he wasn't alone, he couldn't just run away and not think of it, he was with another mind and body, someone who thought just as much for survival as he did.
Vevmis watched you more and more, watching the way your chest rose and fell with each breath you took; tenderly reminding him of what it felt like to be at peace with oneself.
He was seemingly fascinated by your wit and ways of surviving - although, he had been better - and never once did he think that someone like you could make him feel weak.
It was better than a feeling of being weak in front of an enemy. Vevmis had thought so when he had met you when you had saved him and took him into an odd place and part of a land that wouldn't accept him.
He was certain you were insane, but he knew that something about you was not drawing him away, but closer.
He admired you, he admitted to himself, and although he was familiar with the females of his kind, he had certainly not been familiar with humans before.
He had been told since a youngling by crone mothers and high priests of how bad humans were up top, how wild and animalistic they were, unaware of their presence's, he had been taught as a soldier, as a warrior, to kill and not question anything around him.
You stirred momentarily in your sleep, lying facing him and with such a peaceful look on your face. He had seen that face look at him with disgust, then tolerance, then... could it be understanding?
He poked at the fires once more, heat coming to life as he watched the flames. Tomorrow they would keep onwards until they would be near to your settlement, and after months of being on the run, travelling and hiding, living in not knowing they would make another day, you would be home, but Vevmis wouldn't.
He told himself to go back to sleep, crawling closer to you and stroking a stray lock behind your ear. He relaxed at your heat, warmer and in many ways, warmer in regards others unlike himself.
Had his sister seen him now, she would've killed him for acting so soft.
But she was dead, and he wasn't. And now he could close his eyes, getting comfortable as he pulled you taut to his chest, enjoying how it felt to be in another's arms and be wanted. He kissed at your hairline one final time before a euphoric state overtook him.
Yes, he could slacken, and dream of anything but blackness.
You had been roused before he had, the rays of sunshine mixed with the muskiness of the rain had brought you to open your eyes, taking in your lighter surroundings.
Vevmis was asleep as usual, curled around you as you laid with your back pressed into him. You were careful to untangle yourself from him, slowly getting up and readying the horses you had stolen a few moons ago.
You needed food, and the nearest inn had been full of humans, but you were in hopes of hiding Vevmis in with a disguise.
Speaking of the dark elf, the two of you hadn't spoken of what had happened the time at the inn, and from the memories, you had of it, the areas he had his hands, it was all so much to not ignore.
There was a fire that hadn't been there before that had been kindled now within your core, and you were unsure (perhaps even terrified) to speak with Vevmis about it.
He spoke so lewd that day like he had ownership of you more than like a slave like you were his.
A coarse cough brought you to turn around to see said dark elf undressing right in front of you, with already unbuttoning his tunic to reveal his muscled torso to you.
You were very clearly aware of what was going on, but your eyes quickly averted to not look his way.
"Do I need to question why you're stripping?" You blurted, shielding your eyes elsewhere.
"There is a creak not too far from here, I'm sure you would prefer me not smelling like horse dung and more so like wildflowers." The dark elf grinned, his teeth stark white in comparison to his beautiful obsidian skin.
"Yes, the creak is not far, but I'm sure no trappers would want to see a dark elf roaming around nude in the early hours of the day!"
Vevmis rolled his eyes, "Let them gawk, there's nothing to hide, you've seen it all pet."
You were next to roll your eyes, an apparent shade of a deep blush reddening on your cheeks. "Yes–n-no– that's beside the point! Cover up!"
Vevmis flexed deliberately your way, making you to fully turn away from him when you heard the sound of buckles being unfastened and the sound of trousers being taken off.
"Vevmis, go now before someone sees you... or us." You directed.
You were alarmed at the feeling of two arms snake around your waist, being pulled flush into the broad and bare chest of the drow. "But I enjoy you being in my arms." He purred in your ear.
This is how it went, he flirted and flirted and nothing else would come of it, and it was deeply frustrating you more and more. It was if he was trying to get a reaction out of you.
Your head whipped back to face him. "I want you to go."
He gawked you when you turned back to him, lavender eyes blown completely wide for you to see how big his pupils were. Just him staring back at you was too intense.
You had to take a cautious step back from him, wary of what he would do next. "Okay pet, for your sake." He settled, moving past you to get down to where the creak was, leaving you to yourself.
You had to pull your eyes away when you looked down to see his bare behind.
You waited for his return and when he did come back was when the two of you set off. It was a bumpy ride at first, with nothing but one saddle and you riding and Vevmis close into your backside for the journey.
You were sure you would get saddle sore after a couple of minutes, the wind blowing and dancing around you, picking up strays of your messy hair and blowing it around you.
"You're slowing down. Must we take a rest or are you deciding on dropping us in a human territory again?" Vevmis questioned from closely in your ear.
"You know it will be bad for us if we do. But it seems it is the best thing to do. We have hardly any money to afford for a bed let alone money for food, we'll starve by tomorrow."
Some silence settled upon the two of you as you rode. You considered it would be good to not hear from the dark elf, but as the trees widened and something came into view, did Vevmis speak up once more.
"Up there." He pointed with his right, catching your eye to the first thing of smoke, lots of it swelling and coming out in large amounts. You saw a cot on the top of a morose hill, with small lands full of sheep and goats, a land full of flat grass and pale clouds in the sky.
"Think we could get somewhere to stay there?" You doubted first, manoeuvring the horse to go up the hill. The road was rough and bumpy but it managed to get you to the back of the cot, small yet homely.
You stationed yourself not too far to the doors, shielding Vevmis away from anyone who could come out and walk outside. "You stay here, don't create any noise."
"And what about you? You're practically trespassing." The dark elf scoffed, throwing over his hood to over part of his silver locks.
"Rich coming from you, Vevmis, but I think it would be best hearing from a human than an elf. Especially of one who hails from the Underdark."
"I won't be too long, the barn is somewhere I can get you to stay whilst I gather some food and then we'll be gone by the morrow."
"You're gonna kill them?" He grinned toothily, glimpsing towards the entry. "Or are they going to kill us in our sleep?"
"We'll have to see, the point is that you need to keep your mouth shut if you want to keep your tongue." You retorted.
Vevmis clicked his tongue. "Or my head."
You sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I know what I'm doing-" You would've continued had you felt something press into the back of your neck, something cold and sharp made your words halt in your throat.
"Give me one bloody good reason why I don't slit your throat right now?" A rough voice came from behind you, one that sounded so dangerously close to your ear, it made your mind go through a fight or flight response.
You were pressed into the back of someone's chest, the blade being moved from behind to the base of your jugular, your eyes landing on Vevmis as he had already grabbed a weapon, eyes narrowed into slits.
"What you doing travelling with a drow? A devil below grounds?" The disembodied voice gruffly spoke, pulling you back with a harsher grip.
The tense atmosphere was interrupted by another voice coming
"Wren! What in the name of the seven are you doing?"
"Get back inside, right now, Raelle!"
You had turned your head to get a glimpse of the female not too far from you, a young woman of maybe twenty-and-two, with eyes as green as moss and hair faded than rusted copper.
"We're looking for somewhere to stay, we mean no harm." Your voice came out rougher than expected, aware of the very knife very close to cutting you open.
Your eyes darted to your right, glaring. "Vevmis put the knife down." Said dark elf already had a dirk in hand, glowering menacingly from his spot on the saddle.
"Like hell, and what will the drow do? Skin me alive?" The voice of Wren argued.
"Like skinning a hare, it'll be that easy." Countered Vevmis with a cold stare.
This isn't helping our situation. You thought, the blade sticking deeper into your neck until you were certain it would break the skin.
"Let her go, Wren." Came the red-haired female, glancing nervously back and forth between the three of you.
Time passed with a great time, but you felt the grip on you loosen, finally, the blade was moving away from your throat and you were shoved back to your horse, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder from behind.
You knew it was Vevmis, his voice softly asking if you were okay. The last thing you wanted was to say you weren't and watch the massacre unfold. It was easier to lie.
"Thank you... I appreciate your mercy." You spoke up to the two, looking over to them. Wren was similar in looks to Raelle, the same copper hair colour but was shorter and his eyes were the colour of jade.
Both of them had pale skin and freckles on their face and arms, but Raelle seemed to have more. You quickly knew they must've been related.
"My brother is most rowdy when it comes to... visitors. Please, you must be tired and of the need for rest. You are most welcome to stay the night."
"Raelle," Wren warned with a hot temper. You caught glimpse of the kitchen knife in his grip.
"It would be more appreciative if offered. My friend and I have been travelling for many days, and require medicine." You spoke up, ignoring the way your stomach fluttered when you glanced back to Vevmis - who already had his eyes on you.
"We have medicine here! We were just preparing for supper, you are welcome to join us, we have quite the lot to share." Raelle smiled a broad grin, a shy girl that tried to keep the peace in comparison to her brother.
Wren was the opposite and frowned more than smiled, and all for the right reasons, but didn't say much afterwards.
The meal was awkward when it was time to eat, and you did feel bad for the siblings, for you were certain the very sight of seeing you and Vevmis scarfing down the food around you make you look like starved beasts.
But the food was unbelievable. Roasted mutton, winter squash and pigeon pie, with a selection of hard and soft cheeses and biscuits, dried and fresh fruit that varied in colours and sizes. You were astonished to find so much food for the winter when food was scarce.
Vevmis was consuming food as his life depended on it, juices from the mutton trickling down his chin but he paid no mind to wipe it off. Raelle gave a nervous giggle at the sight, watching the way the two of you hoarded the food on your plates.
Vevmis eyed the suspicious colourful fruit beside the cheese board, and when Raelle gave him an eager smile of encouragement, holding it up. "Here, try some! The dried apricot is delicious!"
Vevmis eyed the fruit as if it was poisoned, "I have never had... fruit before."
"Just as I suspected." Commented sourly by Wren, who was sat opposite you had barely touched his food. Vevmis watched as you took a piece of an apricot, the drow following as his face scrunched at the taste.
You were aware of the tension in the air of their home, but you played the fool, smiling gullibly to Raelle's harsh nudge to get him to hold his tongue.
"Where were you two travelling to?" Raelle asked after the passing of time simmered.
"My village. It's a few days away, but we have been most unfortunate of the raids. Vevmis and I met on... odd arrangements." You began, meeting eyes with the drow as you quickly looked back to Raelle.
"Wow, I have never met a drow before." Raelle marvelled, eyes gleaming with wonder as she stared at Vevmis. "Do you all live in darkness?"
"With spiders big as cats, they crave for blood." Vevmis chewed on some bread as he spoke nonchalantly. It made you wonder was he putting an awkward effect on him to make him seem more like a savage or did he lack in social skills.
He has been able to speak with me, maybe it is just men who are the awkward one? You thought, ignoring the way Raelle nervously giggled. "Do tell me," She directed her question back to you, "have you seen them? The drow?"
A cough was caught in the back of your throat, and you would've smacked some sense into the girl for coming out with such questions in front of a drow, but you quietly directed the subject to be on something else.
"I have seen orcs. Now, they're certainly something."
"My brother is wanting to marry me off to the neighbour, a brute of an orc but he has good ties to people elsewhere. He is rather tall too." She rambled.
"I fucking hate orcs." Vevmis growled low in his throat, "They're messy, in fights and hygiene."
"I'm most surprised to hear that," smirked Wren, holding his glass, "I thought your kind would be similar, existing in squab."
You don't know who went first to lunge, but you didn't expect Vevmis to practically crawl his way over to your side of the table, the small table knife in hand, holding it threateningly to Wren's throat.
"Say that again, boy, and I'll gut you like a fish."
"Wren!" Yelled Raelle.
"Vevmis, drop him. Fuck sake, lower the knife." You hissed, gripping at the same arm holding the knife in Vevmis' grip. The drow looked back on you, his gaze softening, before he reluctantly loosened his hold, finally moving away to stand from the table and storm out.
You three sat in your chair,s no-one daring to speak nor move. "Excuse me, I must go to collect him." You apologised, throwing your napkin to the floor as you hurried out after the dark elf.
-
That could've gone better. You thought, the candlelight dimly failing to stay alight. Raelle had given you the barn to rest in for the night, but it wasn't exactly good for keeping the cold out; creeping inside where the flames keeping you warm were dying out.
You gazed out from the small cracked window, watching with no knowing what could be out there. It was dark so how could you see? You could only hope you would be able to get some sleep, even if it was for a few hours.
You had to gather Vevmis and persuade him to stay for a few more hours, promising him that you would leave straight before the sun rose. He was stubborn but he was able to listen.
Speaking of the dark elf, he was sat piled high around him with hay, sharpening his dagger with a stone that he found from outside, his words of 'using it on the pale boy in the morning'. You wanted to take his words as a joke.
"You know, glaring over there won't help our situation. We can barely go a few days without causing an uproar." You sighed.
Vevmis wasn't listening to your words, more so interested in his blade, which he didn't stop sharpening, the clicks of the metal causing something to irk inside your mind, something uncomfortable settling.
"Are you going to listen to me? I think it's sharp enough."
Still, he ignored you. You huffed, standing from your spot and marching your way to him. "Vevmis-"
"They want me dead." Were his words, a mere whisper.
You blinked back at his words, taken back as if you received a hard slap to the side of your face. "What? They might want you dead if you threaten them."
"I see them. My family, they're disappointed in me. They wish for my eventual demise." He confessed. "I won't be able to protect you."
You shuffled until you were sat next to him. "What do you mean? Where did you see them?"
"Why does it matter?" He scoffed. "I'll be dead either way. Killed by the humans up top or by my kind."
You listened carefully to his words, you could hear the pain in his words; he wanted to live. "You can't let their words harm you. You just have to live your life?"
Vevmis turned his head back to you as if contemplating but he seemed amused by something. "Your human life expectancy can't even compare in years to a drow's life. Yet, you all find soft wisdom in everything you see." A hand found itself pulling a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Why?"
You didn't think you would be getting so dreary with Vevmis, talking about life with him and your tragic mortality. "It's what we have to do. Look at the bright side of life. It's our greatest misfortune, but we learn."
Vevmis scoffed at your words. "You sound like a human I knew once. A clergy."
You smiled. "You just have to live Vevmis. Live like every day is your last."
He scooted closer to you until you could smell the pine and firewood on his clothing, his breath on you keeping your neck warm. "How should I do so?"
You bit the inside of your cheek, searching for something in his eyes, and in this light, the lavender mixed with something you thought you had never seen before. They were mixed with a wine-red.
You were certain the words you were wanting to use were what he was looking for. "I think you know."
He captured your lips with his own, drowning you in his life, the life you didn' t know he had lived. He was everything, a flickering flame, a bloomed poisonous flower, he was the risk you wanted to take. A leap off the cliff and out into the undiscovered.
He kissed you and kissed you more, and nothing needed to be said between the two of you. It was lust, just peace that the two of you needed after so long. Two people who never knew would understand each other, finally coming to elongated peace.
