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Today's Document
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
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@stayxstraykidss
Generate a nice, hypnotic spiral~
Wanted to make a more induction style spiral again. There's no awakener, but it should be only a light trance. Make sure you only drop deep if you want it~
Ttonguue oout miinnd offf
I have lost track of how long i stared at this, all i know is tongue out mind off
Prettyy colors
☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 7
Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader
written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!
warnings: intense conversation, I guess?
wc: 2.2k
Chapter Selection
“Jason, I swear to god - it's fine!” I giggled softly, unlocking the door. He just continued to glare suspiciously at a car parked on the street below.
“I don't trust it… you said it's always there?”
“I said it's basically always there. It moves once in a while. I think they just don't drive much.” I held the door open, gesturing for him to come inside.
“... Hm. … I'm gonna check your doors and windows tonight.” He pushed through to the kitchen, setting his bag on the counter. I followed after him, unpacking the groceries.
“This is the fourth floor, and the building has a security door. Do you think someone's gonna break in through my window?”
“Yes.” A sharp, young voice behind us called out. I shrieked, and Jason grabbed the butcher's knife out of my knife block, throwing it into the living room.
When I turned the knife was implanted in the wall above the couch, and a very grumpy Damian Wayne was glaring up at us from his seat. “... You missed.”
“What the fuck are you doing here, demon brat?” Jason glared, walking over to retrieve the knife.
“Tt. I'd think you would be glad I've proven your point.” He trained his sharp eyes on me; “let Todd fix the security in your stupid apartment. If I can get in, who knows who or what else can?”
“... Fine, but only because that was seriously terrifying... Damian, right?” He nodded, staring at me. “... How'd you find my apartment?”
“Your address was included in Drake's background check of you.”
“... Ah.”
Jason frowned. “You still haven't said what you're doing here?”
“This is what families do, Todd. They spend time together, they introduce their girlfriends to their siblings, they eat dinner. Now what are we having?”
“Oh no, you are not staying for dinner!” Jason frowned. “Go home!”
I frowned a bit, watching the small boy. Something seemed wrong here. From what I knew, Damian didn't typically behave like a normal child; him coming here, claiming to want to spend time with his brother, seemed inconsistent with how Jay had described him. He wasn’t looking at either of our faces, looking instead just vaguely in our direction. His school uniform was disheveled, and his backpack was tucked by his feet like he was trying to hide it.
I gently touched Jason's arm, shaking my head when he looked at me. I gestured to the boy who was now glaring at my tv, flipping through my streaming recommendations in an obvious attempt to seem casual. “Jace, If he wants to stay for dinner, I don't mind.”
Jason stared at him for another minute before growling a bit. “.... Does B know where you are?”
“I am not an idiot, Todd.” Damian snapped.
“That sounds like a no to me.” I fished through my wallet for the card he'd left me with at the diner a few weeks prior. “You can stay, Damian, but I am going to tell him you're here. I don't want him thinking you're dead in a ditch somewhere, or kidnapped.”
The boy stared in my direction for a moment. “... Tt. … Do what you want.”
I turned to Jason and smiled softly. “Will you start on the sauce while I call?”
He nodded, kissing my forehead, and I took my cell phone onto the porch. The call was answered after the first ring.
“Hello, Mr. Wayne? This is-”
Once again he spoke my name before I had the chance to introduce myself. “I remember. Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine, sir. I just called to let you know, Damian invited himself over to see Jason. He's safe.”
After a long moment the man let out a deep breath. “... Good god, that boy is going to give me a heart attack one of these days. Thank you. I'll be there in 20-”
“Actually, sir, I don't think you should. … I know I don't know him very well yet, but he seems … off, from what Jason's told me about him. … I don't mind Damian being here; if something upset him and this is where he chose to go, it might be best to let him be for a while?”
“... I need to speak to him, please.”
“Yeah, one second.” I slid the door open and popped my head in. “Damian, your dad wants to talk to you.”
He frowned and slowly approached. He took the phone like he thought it would bite him, and I went inside to give him some privacy. I wrapped my arms around Jason's waist while he cooked, leaning into his back.
He tilted his head back a bit; “... You're allowed to tell him to go.”
“I know. But I'm not going to. Either he actually wants to spend time with his big brother, or something is wrong, and he didn't want to go home. In either case, I'm not going to make it harder for him to process whatever's brought him here.”
Jason thought for a moment before shifting to wrap an arm around me, kissing my forehead again. He whispered; “how’d you stay so good, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
“Gotham isn't a city for goodness. It eats its people up and spits out mangled husks of what we once were. It's dark, and rough, and cold. Gentleness is a luxury in Gotham, kindness is practically unheard of. … So how'd you stay so … warm?”
I looked up at him, unsure what to say to that. I knew he had a rough childhood, we'd talked a bit about our pasts, but this was something else. “... There are people in this city who fight every day to keep Gotham running. They stop the darkness from consuming us, so normal people like us can live normal lives. The least I can do is not invite darkness in, and maybe light a few candles once in a while. … Besides, in this particular case, he's your baby brother. Eventually getting to know the family is pretty typical girlfriend stuff, yeah? I'd like to be someone your family likes, at least well enough to not object to my presence in your life.”
He stared into the sauce, absentmindedly stirring. “.... How could anyone object to perfection?”
Just then, Damian gagged loudly behind us. “You're getting sappy in your old age, Todd.” Jesus, how did he move so quietly?? I didn't even hear the door open…
Jason rolled his eyes. “You're free to go if you don't like it, demon spawn.”
“No, no I'm fine.” Damian held my phone out to me, looking away awkwardly. I took it, chuckling softly.
“Alright, Dami, any homework?”
“Do not call me ‘Dami’. I am Damian.” He frowned. “And I finished my homework hours ago.”
I raised my hands to indicate surrender. “My apologies; Damian. Alright, no homework, so what do you want to do tonight? I've got some board games, or we can watch a movie?”
He looked me over, frowning a bit. “... you would be no challenge in a game. So we'll watch a movie.”
I chuckled softly and nodded. “Movie it is. … Do you have anything to change into?”
He frowned a bit and shook his head. “... The uniform is fine.”
“That can't be very comfortable though. … I bet I have a shirt you could wear. It'd be baggy on you, but you're welcome to it. Wanna take a look?” I offered him my hand and he eyed it disdainfully but did follow me to my room. I found him a t-shirt that didn't fit me anymore which he deemed ‘acceptable’ and I showed him to the bathroom to change.
Jason snorted softly when he saw the boy come out in the shirt and his under shorts - it covered him to his knees, and he looked so little; like a toddler dressed in their finger painting clothes. I smacked Jason's arm, helping him cook. “Go ahead and pick a movie, Damian. Dinner will be ready soon.”
The boy nodded slowly and took a seat on the couch, scrolling through the options. When everything was ready I brought over our bowls, sitting on the opposite side of the couch from him. Jason sat between us, staring at Damian.
We sat in silence for a while, only sort of watching the movie Damian had picked out. I could feel the small boy's eyes on us periodically, like he was watching for something. When we finished eating, Jason pulled my legs over his, resting a hand on my knee. I smiled softly, wrapping my arms around my thighs.
“... So, … how was school?”
Damian scoffed slightly. “... Fine.”
“Good, good. … Jay mentioned you're an artist.”
The boy frowned, pulling his legs in so his knees were against his chest. “... I guess.”
“That’s cool. I took a lot of art classes in school too. What's your favorite medium to work with?”
Over the next couple hours, Damian slowly opened up a bit. But every time I thought we were getting somewhere, and he might tell us why he came, he'd shut back down instead. Jason mostly just watched and listened to us; he had made some progress in the ‘talking about vulnerable topics' department, but it was obviously very different with family. After a while he cleared his throat;
“Damian, it's getting late. Shouldn't you be getting home?”
The boy frowned at him. “It's not that late, Todd.”
It was approaching 11pm, but it was a Friday. It occured to me, I had no idea what was an appropriate amount of staying up late for a kid of Damian's age... “... If your dad doesn't mind, you can spend the night. We can make a pillow fort!”
He tilted his head, a confused look on his face. “A pillow fort?”
I chuckled softly. “First text your dad, make sure he's ok with you spending the night.”
In an instant, his cell phone was in his hands. Jason sighed softly, fixing an amused, but slightly annoyed look on his face. “... So much for date night?”
I chuckled softly, gently squeezing his hand and kissing his fingers. “You've had me all to yourself for months, surely one night with family won't kill you?”
“Yeah, Todd. Don't be so insecure; share.” Damian smirked a bit.
He groaned softly, rolling his eyes. “Fine, fine. But this will not be a habit, demon child.”
Damian's phone lit up with a text. “... Father says it's ok with him.”
I nodded. “Alright, let's make a pillow fort then!”
“... I should probably go home for a minute and get some clothes if we're doing this.” Jason frowned a bit.
I nodded, smiling brightly. “Sounds like a plan! We'll be here.”
He nodded once and leaned in to kiss my cheek. Damian stared at us, a thoughtful little frown on his face, and Jay turned on him; “be. Nice.”
“Oh, calm down, honey. He's not going to bite me.” I stroked his shoulder gently. They stared each other down for a minute before Jason pulled his shoes on and headed out. “Alright Damian; you get the couch blankets from that cabinet, and I'll pull some stuff off my bed.”
We got to work, making a fort big enough for all three of us to sleep in the living room. After several minutes, Damian looked over at me. “... You like Todd?”
I chuckled softly; “yes, very much.”
“... He's broken, you know. Not good enough for you.”
“... Everyone is broken in some way, Damian. No one is perfect, the world doesn't let us be. Love isn't about being perfect, it's about looking at someone and saying ‘I choose you, I want to stand beside you even when it's hard'. It's about approaching complications as ‘us versus the problem’, and accepting each other's weirdnesses.”
I smiled softly, looking over at him. Damian was holding a pillow, frowning deeply at it. “... Even if he hurts you?”
“Do you think he's going to?”
“... He could.”
“So could a dedicated duck. He's not special in that regard.” The boy smirked at that. “And what's more, I could hurt him too. We just have to trust each other. To have each other's best interests at heart, to not want to hurt the other. And I do, I trust that he's a good man.”
“... Even if he used to do really bad things?” He whispered, still staring at the floor. Something told me we weren't talking about Jason anymore. Not exclusively, at least…
“... People do bad things for lots of reasons. If Jason told me he did something bad, I would at least hear him out; I'd want to know why he did it, what else was happening, did he think it was good at the time? Does he regret it, would he do it again? There are so many questions to ask before passing judgment. … Doing something bad does not make you a bad person, Damian. Sometimes there are only bad options, and we have to pick the one we think we can live with. … Sometimes kids end up in bad situations, and have to do bad things to survive. That isn't the kid's fault, that is the fault of the adults who were meant to protect them. It does not mean those kids become unlovable adults.”
He didn't look up for a long time, but when he finally did he refused to look in my direction at all. We finished building the pillow fort in silence.
Divider by: @saradika
Taglist (open):
@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a
smut 18+ only, fucking jason on the kitchen floor, feral horny afab reader who wants to maul jason, unprotected sex, breeding kink, submissive jaytodd!!! rock on!!!
The first time you go absolutely batshit feral over Jason, he's cleaning the apartment.
He's done nothing to provoke your ferality (he never does), and usually, you keep it to yourself. Thoughts like if I were a vampire I'd suck his blood and I need my boyfriend to hold me down until I orgasm or pass out, whichever comes first, are inside thoughts, and you do a great job at keeping them as such.
So you're not quite sure what compels you to act the way that you do.
First, Jason's in clothes that don't help your insanity. The shirt is Dick's (Jason insists that he did NOT have an emo phase, thank you), so the cropped quality of the My Immortal t-shirt isn't by design. Jason's just big.
Yes, yep, your boyfriend sure is a big boy. That's all you can think about as you watch him over the top of your open book while he attacks the kitchen floor with his Swiffer Jet. He's humming a song you don't recognize.
You love him so much. The thought hits you square in the chest. You love Jason Todd. A lot. A lot a lot a lot.
The next thought that hits you is how soft and squishy your boyfriend is. Jason's sweatpants are baggy, the baggiest he could find, and they still can't hide how humongous his thighs are. His thighs are pure muscle, but when not in the middle of a fight, they are soft. Bitable. Very bitable.
Your gazes moves to the strip of belly that flexes and flutters with every movement. Jason's stomach isn't perfectly flat, a fact that you know sometimes bothers him. You take care to treat it delicately, not wanting him to be self-conscious even though every part of him makes you rabid.
You want to kiss Jason's stomach. Feel it twitch under your hand as you do, uh... other stuff besides kissing. You love watching Jason in action, love watching him wield his powerful body. But you also love him like this: using his body to take care of himself, his space, and you.
Jason's arms. You could write prose poetry on such magnificent creations. More than once you've had the urge to wrap one of Jason's arms around your neck and let him squeeze until you lose consciousness. Another inside thought! Jason would staunchly refuse and probably get you checked for head trauma if you requested such a thing, but you can dream.
Once or twice, Jason's flexed for you, silly and smiley. You've managed to hide just how fucking hot you found it. It's been well over a year and you still want to jump your boyfriend. You try to keep it to a manageable level, not wanting to startle or overwhelm him. You know Jason's complicated relationship with his body. You respect his boundaries.
But still, the thoughts linger...
Your feet carry you to the kitchen before you can think about it. Jason's done with the mop and has moved to wiping the counters. You seize the opportunity to get behind him.
"Hey, baby," Jason says before you reach him. He keeps wiping. And that's another thing: Jason is highly competent. His training makes him hear you before you've reached him. If you were an evil goon, you'd be on the floor before you could inhale. You also find that concerningly hot.
You stick yourself to his back and wrap your arms around his stomach. You grab handfuls of the layer of fat that covers his muscles, brushing your thumbs over where his hair thickens below his bellybutton.
"What's up, hm?" Jason asks, patting your hand.
"You're really hot," you say.
He snorts, glances behind at you. "I'm what now?"
"Hot. Juicy. I wanna maul you."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah," you say peacefully, groping his waist. "Soon as possible."
"I'm free for a mauling in ten minutes. That work for you?"
"I don't know if I can wait that long." You slip your hands up his shirt. "Mind if I feel you up while I wait?"
Jason laughs but it comes out a little airy. "You're a menace."
"I'm crazy about you."
"Mm, I've noticed. Feeling's mutual."
"No, no." You move your head so that your mouth is on his exposed bicep. You feel the hot flesh in your mouth, lave your tongue over it for some time. As soon as it flexes, you bite the hard muscle.
Jason drops his dishcloth. You soothe your teeth marks with your tongue.
"You don't understand," you say, shifting so you're pressing Jason against the counter edge. He lets you keep him there. "I'm crazy about you. I wanna eat you, Jay. Let me eat you."
"Jesus, what's gotten into ya?" he asks, turning his head to look at you.
"Hopefully you," you say, unrepentant.
Jason's eyes widen. You adore how squirmy he gets whenever you're bold about wanting him. Despite how long you've known each other, Jason never fails to get flustered. Perhaps that's half the fun.
"C'mon, Jay, let me fuck you. I wanna fuck you on the kitchen floor," you say, past coyness.
He full-body shudders. "I jus' cleaned."
You grin against his arm, pawing at his hip. "I'll help you mop again, honey pie. Deal?" You're eyeing his stomach next, ready to suck his skin there.
Jason can't deny you for long. You both know that.
"You're persuasive," he says, eyelids fluttering.
You hum. "Didn't take much, though, did it? Is your dick hard already?" You squeeze him through his sweats. Jason whines, bracing himself against the counter. "Never takes long, huh? You're always ready for me in no time, stud. Ready to fill me up, right?"
"Oh m'God," he says, looking at you like you're divine. That look swells your ego every time.
"Is that a yes?" You cup his balls like you're choosing a bull for breeding. Jason buckles under your brazenness. "Yes, you want me to let you fuck my pussy? Yes, you want me to fuck you on the floor?"
"Yeah, yeah, please."
So Jason lets you push him down onto the tiles. You yank his sweats down first, then his underwear. He's already leaking onto his stomach.
"Fuck," you say, grabbing and holding Jason's wrists on either side of his head. "You gonna give me what I want, sweetie? Love of my life, handsomest guy I've ever seen?"
Jason nods vigorously. "Yeah, yes, an-anything y'want. Oh my God, I'm s-so hard. I love you. Y'so nice to me."
You smile gently.
"I'm nice for taking you on the kitchen floor, huh?" you ask, bending your knees and lining up his cock to your cunt. "What if I make you wait until I come first?"
Jason nods again, already breathing hard. "I want to, I wanna wait. You should come first. I want you to come first. I don't have ta come at all."
You raise an eyebrow. That's new. New, but not unwelcome.
"So even when I..." You sink down on his cock, just the tip. Jason whimpers in the back of his throat. "Do that? You don't need to come?"
You feel him flex under your hands but he's good and stays put. He doesn't break your hold even though he could. You grin.
"Oh-oh. Sweet boy. My best guy. Look at you, big and hard. You could take me if you wanted, but you don't want that, do you? You want me to take what I want from you. All that muscle and strength, but what d'you need, Jaybee? Hm? Tell me."
"Need you," he says, voice strained. "Need you to do whatever y'want."
You kiss under his jaw and dig your nails into his wrists. Then you sink further onto Jason's cock. His hips twitch but he doesn't thrust like he usually does.
"Will you kiss me?" he asks when he bottoms out, body strung tight like a bow.
"I did kiss you," you say, smiling into his neck.
"On th'lips," Jason says, fingers shaking. "Please? Please."
You thread your fingers with his to steady them. Then you lean in to kiss his mouth. Jason moans, greedily kissing you back. You begin to move. Jason's shoulders tense.
"You're so perfect," you say against his lips. "You'd be so perfect at knocking me up. Any time I wanted, you'd be hard and ready to come in me, right?"
"Ah-ah," Jason says, voice wrecked. "Y-yeah, yeah. As much as y'want. Do anything y'want. I'd do anything."
"Yeah, I know," you say, grunting as you slide back onto him. "I know, sweetheart. Pretty boy. Y'dunno what you got with this fat cock. Can barely speak when your dick's wet."
You do a particularly hard grind and growl against Jason's sweaty throat. You lick the salt from his Adam's apple, feel it bob against your tongue. Then you bite.
"Oh, oh," he whines, and your gut tightens further at his sounds.
"Don't come," you snarl, pussy like a vice. "I come first."
Jason shakes his head, lips parted. His pulse throbs against your mouth. "No, no, won't. I won't. I'm good. I'll be good. 'M I good?"
You pet his hair, voice softening. "You're good, Jason. So good, baby. So good that I gotta take you right here on the floor. You understand, right? I was aching over there, watching you. I had to fuck you. Had to use your big dick for something."
"Uh-huh," he says, voice wet and sticky with pleasure. "Y'had to. I can do it. I wanna be good for you."
He looks up at you, and you're struck again by your difference in size, and how easy Jason gets when he's inside of you. You feel that familiar tightness, the edge of your impending orgasm.
"Rub my clit," you say, letting go of his right hand, and Jason obeys instantly, locating and deftly rubbing your clit.
"Harder," you tell him, and he rubs harder. Your mouth falls open as the pleasure swells. "Yeah. This is what you're made for. Pleasing me."
One of these days, you'll broach the subject of Jason putting those muscles to good use and fucking you doggy-style, whining in your ear as he shoots load after load into you.
"I'm gonna come," you say, cunt tightening. "Are you gonna come?"
Jason shakes his head desperately. "No. No, no, y'said not to. Not gonna come!"
"A-are you sure?" you ask, grinning as Jason makes uh-uh's in the back of his throat.
"Won't come, I promise, won't come," he says, near tears.
You come, tightening hard around Jason's cock. He nearly howls, the corners of his eyes wet, tendons pulled taut in his neck.
But he doesn't come, true to his word.
Sloppily, you kiss him. Jason kisses you back, but it's frenzied. You know his brain must be soup with the effort it's taking to not come.
"Look at you," you say, gaze hungrily roving over Jason's swollen nipples, his red face, his drawn eyebrows. "You listened so well. Y'wanna touch me? Wanna hold me?"
Jason nods frantically. "Yeah, yeah, please, baby, please, can I?"
"Go ahead, sweetheart. Hold me how you want and make yourself come. Don't be gentle."
Jason hesitates at the last direction. "Don't be gentle? Are y'sure?"
You pinch his nipple lightly. Jason bucks his hips. Your eyes narrow.
"I'm sure. Gimme everything you got, big guy."
You bite your lip as Jason's body comes alive, strength kicking in as he draws your thighs up over his hips, plants his feet, and drives into you. He punches the air out of you with each thrust, sobbing as he does. You hold on to his arms as he moves.
It only takes him a few thrusts before hot cum fills your pussy. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, nails scratching Jason's biceps.
"I want more," you say, grinding shallowly against his cock. Jason cries out, and more cum fills you.
"Was that good?" Jason asks, holding you closer.
You grin. "We're definitely doing that again."
Except, maybe not right after Jason's cleaned. You're not that mean.
Jason gets so pussydrunk and it doesn’t take much at all. Like you’re talking to him while sitting down in a dress. You don’t think anything of it, you’re just getting more comfortable, so you open your legs. His gaze drops as your legs uncross and his eyes never leave you. His face goes bright red. Without warning, he rushes forward and falls to his knees. He thumbs at the seams of your underwear. “Please.” When you nod your head, he tugs them down your legs reverently. He kisses all over your thighs, leaving you speechless. Unacceptable. “Keep talking, baby. I wanna hear your voice. I need it.” His voice is whiny and he makes no move to hide it. His kisses trail closer and closer to where you want him, but right before he gets there, you lace your fingers through his hair and tug him back, making him let out a sound that you wish you had recorded. He needs to beg for it. You can see the thought click in his clouded eyes. Despite not having touched your pussy yet, he’s breathless. “I’ll be good. I’ll be so good. Please. I’ll be so good for you.” You push his face into your cunt and you can feel the vibrations of his moan, you take it as an excuse to grind into his face. Call him your slut, he'd like it.
Senpai says you’re welcome
Reblogging again because I just realized that if I had this advice in high school I would’ve never made a tumblr account.
Also works for most of those news sites like WSJ or NYT that only let you read a little bit, or block adblockers. Also some disable the scroll bar but if you go to the right side of the console after hitting F12 and look for the CSS element “overflow” and change it from “hidden” to “visible” then you can continue scrolling for free. Might have to click around on different parts of the page to find it, but it should work.
There’s also a Firefox/Chrome extension called Behind The Overlay that does all that with one mouse click. Used it for years; what a time saver.
And if you encounter a true paywall, use Archive.Today to bypass it. Just paste the paywalled url into the blue “search archived snapshots” box near the bottom:
Taste so Sweet
Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff and Smut with Plot, Oral (fem receiving), Cum eating, Horn pulling, Spit kink, Eludes to addiction, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (Please wrap before you tap) and Biting.
Summary: After a passionate make out session you find you just can't stop thinking of Rolan, and how sweet he taste.
A/N: So I have had this on the back burner for months! and though it is not for everyone I really enjoyed writing it and hope people find it as hot as I do. Enjoy!
Word count: 6,377
Maybe it was the final straw that caused this? Or maybe it was that tightening in your chest you feel when you stand near him. Everything seems to draw you in closer to him, from his refreshing musk to his voice with that accented lisp that slips when he relaxes and those golden eyes that glitter like distant stars. Perhaps, and more accurately, it was the classic case of liquor encouragement that often turns people to slip their truths. Though you had hidden the truth of your deep desires in your sultry lie…
“Just one kiss…friends can kiss when it comes to the swings of celebration…” you cooed to him with your wine-stained lips.
His keen eyes study you…he knows you are feeling tipsy, but so is he…Your eyes stay on his lips as he drinks from his goblet in contemplation; the drink left on his lips quickly licked away from the sharp points of his forked tongue. One of his infernal traits you were never privy to before your time as the Gates savior. Through sheer luck, both your lives still managed to always be intertwined, leading to your friendship blooming further. Rolan’s eyes are slightly cloudy but still that brilliant hue of gold you could make out even in the greatest depths of darkness.
“Just one kiss, huh? You sure about that, Tav?” - Gods… does his voice get richer by the day? Is it the drink, or has he always been this alluring and downright cocky?
You place your hand on his knee, feeling the heat that radiates from underneath the cloth of his pants. Your smile is all desire, and your taunts, “Well, unless you beg me for more…”
Rolan’s smile widens before he looks over his shoulder to see Lia dancing with Karlach and Shadowheart while Cal plays with the braids in Lae’zels hair as she speaks of her last adventure. Rolan turns back to you, his hand coming over yours. He tries to mask his grin but fails horribly.
“Well, let’s find somewhere more…private perhaps…”
It’s then you tug his hand, having him follow your swaying trail, as you two make your way to a dark closet located in the back of the tavern…
You practically push him into the isolated room and shut the door behind you; Rolan manages a laugh before he grabs your face and pulls you closer to crash into his soft lips. Rolan guides your body to press against his, and you can’t help but gasp at the seer heat of him; every part feels so good, and his body is so warm. His knee slips between your legs, and he gathers a fist full of your hair in his clawed hands, nothing to hurt but just to feel the want burning through him. While he’s casually adjusting you to straddle his knee, a stray thought crosses your mind, he’s…good at this?
Then his other hand drops down to your hip, and he starts leading you to a slow grind on his knee that makes you gasp from the friction to your wet sex. He’s really good at this? Rolan chuckles slightly before swiping his tongue over your smooth lips. Slipping his tongue through so you finally get a taste of him, your toes curl, and your hands cling to his robes tighter. The sweetest taste you have ever had sends sparks over your taste buds, his tongue expertly gliding over yours to make you feel every motion of him. It tastes so sweet, and you feel your body heat rise, and your nipples perk the more you drink him in. Your body yearns; nothing else matters to you now other than him: to feel, taste, and want him. Your chest starts to burn from the lack of air, but your panties get wetter with your arousal as you grind yourself on him. Feeling his chest vibrate with a groan the more you slowly roll yourself on his leg.
Rolans forked tongue slips out of your swollen lips, and you whine at the loss. You hear Rolan laugh at you, but you’re too lost in your panting for breath and neediness for more. What’s happening? You have never felt this need for someone else before, but your mind is filled with Rolan and the need to taste him, your need to feel him, to fuck him. This desire burning in you outweighs your need to breathe in your mind; you’re drunk off of him. Through a sliver of light escaping from the closed door cracks, you see a glimmering trail of his saliva connecting your lips to him; it’s too irresistible to resist as you chase to lick more. Your lips crash against his hungrier this time, and Rolan is more than willing to oblige. Bodys melting together, and you’re feeling a sheen of sweat starting to cover your body; you’re hot and needy, and need him now is all your brain can focus on. Rolan leans into you more and pushes you against the wall, your head hitting one of the closet shelves, but you can’t care right now as you feel his forked tongue rubbing against yours, your moans slipping out along with his. His hands find your breast as you find his belt.
“Can…may I?” he asks between breaths, and you’re already a slew of yeses as you’re undoing his pants.
Rolan doesn’t miss a beat as he’s undoing your shirt as you’re desperate to release his cock. Every part of your body is uncomfortable in your clothes as your cunt aches for him; it’s practically painful how swollen your clit is. You need him fucking you now! In a cry, you’re trying to get your pants down to feel his fingers, cock, tail, anything! Looking down, you see his arm moving as he pumps his cock for you, fuck, it’s happening! You’re practically in tears from the overwhelming want, and you moan for him, letting him lick and suck against your neck.
“Rolan?! Has anyone seen Rolan?” -no…
Rolan pauses and groans, lifting his head towards the closed door, “Zurgan… They have the worst timing…” -no, no, no!
Rolan steps back from you and starts helping your reput on yours and his clothes as he adjusts himself back into his pants. “I guess we got a little caught up… but if I don’t get out there, they will start tearing this place apart.”
Your body is burning, and your stomach feels like it’s sinking. You don’t want him to go…you want him to stay… Rolan turns back to you and presses his forehead to yours, his hand on your cheek. God, his skin touching yours feels so good. Why does it feel so good?
Roaln leans down and gives you a quick kiss on your lips, “If you… want to try again… or… you know where to find me.”
With that, Rolan gives you a kind smile and leaves the closet; you hear muffled sounds that might be him grumbling at his siblings… but all you can think about is that sweet taste on your tongue… and how you’re already craving more…
“I knew you would come back…so needy, aren’t you…”
“So needy…” the words come out of your mouth before you can even stop it. What’s happened to you? You feel consumed…
Rolan lifts your legs further up towards your head; the stretch makes you moan before you can stop yourself. Rolan smiles down at you, his golden eyes glimmering like before, and then you feel your mouth start to water as you look at his tongue sliding over his lip…
Rolan’s cock teases your slit, the hot tip tracing over you slowly, leaving his pre cum drooling on you, the feeling of its stickiness making your back arch. You can’t help how your mouth hangs open, your tongue lolling out, begging to taste him again. Rolan’s lips curl into a smirk,
“You’re addicted, aren’t you? Do you want it? Are you ready?” -fuck yes, you want it! You burn for it!
You can’t bring yourself to say yes, so you nod frantically, slightly whimpering in the process, your hips buckling against his cock, feeling the ridges tease against your soft folds. Rolan can’t keep you in anticipation any longer, so with a roll of his tongue and his lips pressed in a tight seam, he gathers his saliva before leaning down and dropping the wad into your eager mouth. Your tongue catches it, and you let it sit against your tongue for a moment while the sweetness coats your taste buds. Fuck, it’s what you have been craving…
Finally, you swallow and reveal your now empty mouth to him, your nipples harder now, your body sweating, your pussy wetter and quivering with an insatiable need.
Rolan smiles down at you, “Good girl…”
He purrs, as his cock ruts faster against you, “Do you feel no shame? Getting off on my spit? So naughty…”
You’re not sure if it really is his spit or his taunting words, but you’re needing it, burning for it…
“Rolan… Pl- Please…”
Rolan caresses your cheek, “I know… I know…”
As he is coming down to you, he starts to slip in the tip very slowly… the feeling of the stretch makes your whole body curl, and Rolan still pours honeyed words into your ear as he sinks deeper…. Though his words get hazier, and your mouth gets thirstier. It’s like you have gone days without water, and as you look up at his concentrated eyes, freckled cheeks, and slightly parted lips, you know that drinking him in is the only way you will ever be satisfied… Your… craving him and his addictive sweet taste….
In a flash, you’re sitting up straight with a groan, your body is in a cold sweat, your throat dry, and your tongue needy. -shit.
It’s been days of this madness… since you and Rolan had your hot and heavy makeout session, and two things have happened since that day. You have a wild craving for sweets, having restless, sweat-inducing dreams that have been soaking your sheets, and your thoughts have been filled with him. Part of you wonders if that wizard put a hex on you or…if you’re in love…
With your head in your hands, you roll yourself out of bed and walk over to your nightstand where the jar of candy you bought waits; you had thought that you just needed some sweets, but no matter how much you’re eating, you can’t get this craving, this inch out of you. But it’s not like you can say anything or ask anyone about this new development! Especially Rolan, Rolan is a busy man… with lots of responsibility. You can’t be bothering him with your girlish fantasy of him or humiliate yourself by asking if he did something… not that he would have? Rolans is not the type, but then why? Why the hell does he taste so sweet? And why can’t you stop thinking about it?!
Whatever, you can’t focus on this now. You have to meet up with Lae’zel, Karlach, Wyll, and Astarion for tonight’s job, and you know better than to keep your companions waiting…
Everything has gone off mainly without a hitch; your cravings are still driving you mad and proving even while you are fighting to still be in your thoughts. During your fight, you find yourself more hot-blooded and restless to get your opponent down and broken; you’re unsure if the craving is to blame… but with how restless and irritated you have been, you wouldn’t doubt it. Now, here you sit by the fire surrounded by your companions, still trying to relax… but you’re finding it impossible! Your body is fidgeting, your blood boiling as you suck and roll your tongue on the hard candy like a vise like it’s finally going to help you get over this craving for that haughty wizard.
Astarion must sense your distress because before you know it, he is sliding up to your side with an insolent smirk, “Evening, love. Is everything alright? You seem… shaky?”
You roll your eyes and bounce your foot, trying to ignore his question. Karlach is next to go to your aid, though where Astarion is taunting you, having his own ideas about what is driving you mad, Karlach is actually full of concern.
“I have noticed that too, Tav; you seem out? Soldier, is something going on?”
You wave your hand, trying to brush them off. “Nothing, nothing. I just… haven’t been able to rest well like I have wanted… but hopefully, I will get over it soon…”
Wyll chimes in next with sympathetic eyes, “What seems to be the issue? Bad dreams?”
You grimace… more like wet ones…. You look up to your friends, who are anxiously awaiting your response. What could you even say?
“I, it’s complicated… I don’t even fully understand it myself.”
“Well, why not pull the ears of your friends? No matter what it is, we will try to understand and try to help you in any way we can!” Oh, well… always so optimistic…
You look to your companions whose eager faces look at you bathed in the golden fire light… you have known them for a while now and have been through a life-or-death scenario together… why not tell them about your plaguing horny thoughts… okay maybe not everything, but definitely not the full detail.
“Well, have you ever… craved something?” They all look at each other, confused.
Astrion laughs, “Cravings? And what is that supposed to mean? You’re hungry? I can’t say I haven’t had a desperate craving before… but what are you craving exactly?”
Rolans forked tongue in your mouth, sliding against yours while his nails tear your clothes open, devouring you, body and soul… oh Gods…
“Uhhhh… just… something sweet…”
Lae’zel tsk, finally contributing to the conversation, “This is stupid; just eat something sweet.”
“That… hasn’t been working. It’s a specific sweet…” As you think about it, you feel your mouth filling with saliva that you’re quick to swallow back down. If they knew…. If anyone did…
Karlach tilts her head, “Like from a shop? Can’t you go and buy it?”
The image of you giving Rolan a piece of gold to spit in your mouth fills your mind, and you shrivel into yourself. Why are you thinking like this!
“No! I…. this is so embarrassing…”
Astarion and Karlach look at each other and smile. “What are you craving, Tav?” they say in unison…
“I think it’s more… who are you craving Tav…” Lae’zel cuts in with a rare smile of her own.
Wyll gasped, and the other two bounced excitedly at the accusation, and you? You are visibly sweating bullets… but you can’t deny it much longer…
“Is that even possible to… crave someone? Their taste? Their smell?” your thighs tighten at the thought of Rolan sandalwood and paper sent with the lights hint of musk… fuck you want to drown in it… “their touch?” you say with a shiver…
You look up at the four pairs of eyes, looking at you intently with slight blushes on their faces. With a smirk, Astarion waves his hand toward you. “No, no, don’t pause… please continue, darling…” Astarion teases.
You throw your head in your hands, ‘I can’t believe I’m confessing to this… I just don’t know what to do? The hunger is getting worse! The dreams are getting more real…”
Karlach leans in, “Ohhh, there’s dreams? Tell us more…”
You shake your head in disapproval, “No, I’m already embarrassed; you don’t need to know more…”
Wyll says, “This might be off limits, but… who is it? Maybe if we knew we could give you some advice? A plan!”
They all agree in unison. Part of you wants to tell them it’s Rolan, but… though you don’t mind the teasing, you’re unsure if Rolan could handle it… and you don’t want to put him on the spot. Gods knows, as soon as Karlach and Wyll find out it’s Rolan, they will be planning your spring wedding…
“I…-”
“I know who it is…” lae’zel says casually, catching everyone by surprise.
You look at her with wide eyes… every perspective… of course, she would have found out…or maybe she saw you two?
Karlach, supposedly catching your inner turmoil, places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “You don’t have to tell us who if you’re not ready, but I think that whoever this is has done a number on you,”
Astarion chimes in, “This is true. You have been sucking on those sweets like your life depends on it. If this person is so delicious, I think you go and get yourself another taste…”
Karlach agrees, “Maybe you will find they have been craving you just as much!”
Wyll adds, “It could be romantic, confessing your want, getting vulnerable to them. And if they don’t reciprocate for some reason, we can all go out and find you something way more satisfying.” Wyll gives you a wink, making you laugh.
Then your eyes go to Lae’zel, who is just looking at you with a smirk. You give her a look, and he just laughs, “I don’t think she needs to worry about unreciprocated affections… though… I could be wrong….”
Uhhggg, lae’zel has been with Cal too much; she is picking up on his teasing…
It’s funny how desire can so easily cloud the mind. Now, here you are… going against your better judgment and giving in to the temptation to at least see him again. Part of you thought that seeing him would ease the carving..... but you knew deep down that it wouldn’t, so the torture continues.
Rolan hasn’t noticed you walk in, or if he has, he’s too involved in his work to look up from his sales book to greet you. Not that he has to; despite how much you enjoy looking into his brilliant eyes, there is something about. watching him in his own little world, however. Seeing him so concentrated, writing diligently with what you are sure is immaculate handwriting. In his focused state, you observe that he has a habit of chewing the inside of his cheek, forcing his lips to perk as his mind is elsewhere.
As you watch, familiar feelings boil forth, and so do familiar cravings....
The urge to go and just touch him, to feel his warmth again. You want to grab him from behind and, bury your head in between his shoulder blades and breathe in as much of him as you can, letting your senses be overflowed with him. You want to hear his nervous laugh, feel him hold you back, and feel his breath against your skin..... To watch his tongue move as he talks…
A rush of heat grips your body, causing you to pause and shiver in want. Tingling rushes through your skin, and your saliva starts to pool, the desire..... the craving... the addiction. Perhaps coming here won’t dull your hunger but worsen it…
Quickly, you retrieve a piece of candy from your pocket to dull it—just chew and leave. As you head for the exit, you can’t help the part of you that needs another look. Turning, you see Rolan taking a drink. As he lowers his cup, a small droplet of liquid lingers on his lips, quickly licked away by the tips of his forked tongue…That tongue... his taste. You want him. No, you need him!
Your body is reacting before your mind can fully process. You’re walking towards him. When you’re finally noticed, Rolan seems surprised to see you, but the smile starting
to form on his lips is unmistakable. However, as soon as you grab a handful of his robes and drag him off, his smile falls into furrowed confusion as he tries to ask what you’re doing. Rolans. Words, however, fall on deaf ears because the only thing you can hear is the sound of your racing heart....
With Rolan in a firm grasp, you drag him up the staircase and through the portal, the need to be alone with him completely overtaking your mind. Once you two are alone in the tower, you finally let go of Rolan’s clothes. Rolan looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind... you feel as if you truly have. Rolan studies you briefly before his confusion hits an irritating peak, “What’s wrong.. Why are you-”
“What did you do to me !?”
Rolan’s head jerks back from your louder, more cutting question.
“What? Excuse me! I haven’t done anything?”
Even When he’s irritated, he’s irresistible! You just want to grab him and kiss him, but now you two are on the verge of another argument; it feels like back when you were on the road running into him over and over ... Can you be honest? Can you tell him that you genuinely don’t want to fight but want to be wrapped in his arms? Not only do you crave for his taste you crave to feel affection from him?
Rolan steps closer, studying you, his golden, ardent eyes tracing over your fevered body. You know you must look like a wreck right now, but it can’t be helped. You want to just collide into his embrace and tremble within his arms,
“What’s going on? Why are you dragging me from the shop and throwing accusations at me!”
What can you even say? I think you put some crazy spell on me to make me crazy for you? Now that you think about it more, Rolan wouldn’t do that… is this just your feelings coming to fruition after finally getting to kiss him? AHH! The uncertainty is driving you mad! You suck on the candy more to help, but it’s not working…
Your eyes are locked with his lips, and you know it’s time to just confess, “I’m…. Craving you… my mind has been consumed with thoughts of you. I don’t know if this is a spell or a curse, but… I can’t get the thought of your taste out of my mind… my thoughts that have stirred with you have become more potent… more lustful. I have a desire for you that not even the sweetest of candies can satiate…”
You look back up from your speech to see Rolan’s eyes now as wide.
“Craving me… what have you been craving exactly?”
You bite your lip, “Your tongue… dripping spit into my mouth… while you rut into me…”
As soon as you say it, you feel your whole body catch on fire; at least, that’s how it feels. You’re so embarrassed and can’t believe you just admitted it! Turning to hide your shame, you feel yourself wanting to run, but two arms wrap around you before you can take the first step.
The warmth… the feel of his body… his smell… Rolan…
You fight the urge to lean into him… but fail.
Rolan’s lips come to your ear, “I am so sorry… but then again, if I’m being honest, I’m also not…”
You’re confused by his comment, “Wha-“
“My infernal heritage… is related to incubus… so it doesn’t happen often, but… if I really like someone… my saliva… turns into an aphrodisiac… usually the effects are not so potent, but… the more you like me in turn,… the more the want lingers…”
Rolan pulls you against him closer, his voice whispered and laced with seduction, “You must really want me, Tav…”
You’re trying to muster up any kind of words, but nothing seems right… You do want him… so much it’s consuming you! A hummed yes is all you can muster as your face flushes further. Rolan, pleased by your bashful hum, gently turns to you; his long fingers caress your jaw and tilt it so you’re forced to be further entranced by him. Gods… you just want to
“You have to ask me.”
It’s not rare for Rolan to have a slight smirk and a cocky attitude… but his confidence right now is… making you hot.
Rolan leans into you further, “Ask me to help you… to kiss you… to take you…” Rolan’s grin shows his sharp teeth off, making your insides scream. “You didn’t get this clammed up at the tavern… you nervous?”
More impatient.
“Rolan, help me in every way you can.”
“By?” his breath fans over your lips, so mouth-watering close as you faintly taste his breath.
“Kissing me, t-taking me…till this burning ache subsides… then, do it all over again and again.”
Rolan laughs, “Well, greedy aren’t you?”
You want to push him and argue back, but you pull him closer by his shirt, “Please, this craving… it’s borderline painful, you ass…”
Satisfied, Rolan finally eases your ache by pressing his firm lips to yours. As you feel his lips on yours, the blood rushes in your veins, feeling like a rushing wave of a refreshing excited ocean. Feeling your body shiver, Rolan tightens his grip, causing his nails to bite into your soft skin; it only proves to excite you more. Rolan’s nostrils flare as he smells your arousal, ruining your panties, and he can’t hold it back anymore; his own cravings for you are starting to consume him. Rolan parts your decadent lips with his tongue, and you finally get that taste as his tongue softly dances against yours. It’s oh so sweet taste that maddeningly sets your whole body aflame.
Your tongue eagerly slides against his as you take in as much of his taste as you can. Hands digging into him, a small part of you scared that if you let go, he would disappear, and this would all be another one of your dreams. Roalns lips smile against yours at your clinging parting. He wants to tease you for soft whines, but he eases you with his hand on your cheek. Muttering a quick incantation, you can hardly hear from your buzzing ears, he suddenly snaps his fingers, and a portal appears behind you. You feel the whirling buzz of its magic, but your eyes stay on his. Rolan’s lips find yours again effortlessly, and his large hands rest on your hips as he gently guides you back. You two don’t part from each other until the sensation of you falling back onto a soft mattress startles you.
Looking around, you see elaborate drapes and long curtains all around the room, paired with the soft glow of candles. Books in tall piles and other immaculate things tell you you’re in his room. You look at him with an excited grin, and that’s when you are met with his golden eyes racking over you as he undoes his collar. Your eyes drink in every inch of his rose-colored skin as he strips down for you. Your eyes trace over the raised arches that decorate his body; as his shirt drops to the floor, you watch as his hands go over his abs to start working the buckle and laces of his pants. Every movement he makes causes your heart to race further.
Watching your thighs tighten, and your mouth water, Rolan relishes in your want; with a smile showing off his sharp teeth, he nods his head toward you.
“Strip”
With a swallow, you nod eagerly and start undoing your shirt as Rolan watches in silent excitement. With your shirt off, you quickly kick off your pants, and before you can roll down your underwear, Rolan’s voice pauses you.
“Spread your legs,” he says cooly, almost casually.
Why is he so good at this? Just like in the Elf Song, what you thought was a nerdy wizard is proving to be way more suave, than you thought…. And you love every moment of it…
All the blood in your body rushes to your face and to your clit; you think you’re already seeing stars, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Moving your hands away from your underwear, you lounge back on your elbows and spread your legs. Rolan’s pupils as he looks at the wet spot seeping through the thin fabric. He can’t help himself anymore, and in an instant, he is in between your legs, driving his nose into your clothed cunt. His heat on you makes your legs quiver, and a whine rips from your throat as he sniffs and takes you in; then, you feel his tongue, and you let out a scream.
Rolan’s tongue slides against the cloth, forcing the material to rub against your sensitive skin, making your hips want to roll and grind against him. The teasing is making your blood boil with need, and then pushing you further to the edge, his tongue finds your swollen clit, and he wraps his lips around it and sucks. You tighten your thighs around his head as you chant his name, feeling your slit quiver with need. Though before you can start to beg, you feel Rolan pulling away with your panties between his lips. With a quick movement, Rolan rips your panties off, leaving the delicate material draping from his teeth. The sight and sudden cold air make you moan and spread your legs wider. You’re done waiting. You need him.
Quickly discarding the rest of your underwear, your eyes meet his completely nude for now. Rolans once confident demeanor seems to have slightly faltered as he looks down at you. Painties are gone from his teeth, and he looks at you as if you were a goddess coming down to bless him with unimaginable cardinal pleasure. Rolan drops his underwear down to his ankles. He quickly kicks away before crawling on top of you.
Rolan lips stay on yours as he slowly runs his hands down your body, sliding his warm hands from the soft mounds of your breast to tracing your sides with his nails, causing your body to arch closer to him. His hand slips to your hips to your thigh, where he carefully brings one of your legs up to spread you wider and wrap around his hips. Your heart races at the feeling of being so exposed and feeling his heat so close to your core. You would beg for him to finally ease your ache by fucking you. If you weren’t so busy with his tongue in your mouth, you’re not willing to stop licking up that addictive taste right from the source.
Rolan, though, has to break away for a breath, and as you two pant over each other, looking into each other’s blown-out eyes, you can’t help but feel complete bliss. His smile is charming and tender as he leans down to give you a chaste kiss. “Are you sure you want this?”
You groan in frustration, “Please don’t make me beg!”
Rolan rests his forehead against yours, silencing you.
“No, no begging. I just want to make sure this is more than lust..”
“I have always liked you…even when we didn’t get along, I have always been ensnared by you. Your kiss just made me need to show you”
Rolan smiles, and you feel him getting warmer and his cheeks a shade redder, “Good…”
Rolan against his hips and thanks when you feel his rigged length sliding open your smooth folds. The head alone burns you as it splits you open; as he sinks in deeper, your toes curl further. Rolan does his best to go slow, but the urge to slam into you is wanting to overtake him. But with how your body twitches and your face contorts with every inch of his cock sinking into you. He knows he has to stretch you open slowly, so to help ease you, Rolan licks his thumb before he brings it down to your clit and rolls slow circles. You preen and throw your head back, exposing your neck to him. He eagerly nuzzles into it, leaving kisses and soft bites in his wake.
Rolan buckles his hips into your fluttering cunt, groaning and growling at how your body sucks and clamps down on his girth in an insatiable need. With another roll of his hips, he sinks down all the way, his warm tip nudging on your g stop so deep it makes your eyes roll and your voice to cry his name in a broken moan. Rolan licks against your neck, his sweet saliva seeming to tingle your skin at the contact. He hums against you,
“Gods, I’ve been waiting for this, to feel your dripping cunt around me, so soft and greedy for it.”
Rolan rolls his hips, pulling to the tip before forcing back into you in a mind-numbing rush, “All mine…”
Rolan continues to rut his hips in and out, every ridge catching against your sensitive flesh, feeling exquisite as you can’t help but let out shuddering moans as Rolan’s cock rams against your insides. Your mouth falls open as you stare at Rolan’s lidded eyes, your breath heavy, and your hands desperately clinging to his back as you are fucked on his cock, bouncing up and down on his length at a building pace.
“Please….” you say breathlessly, making Rolan smile as he approaches your face.
“Please, what?” he says with a rough roll that makes your legs shake. You can’t find the words. All you can do is loll out your tongue in a whine, hoping Rolan is smart enough to understand.
Rolan grins at your silent plea, “You sure?”
You whine at the taunt, but you’re addicted. You need it, so you eagerly nod, keeping your mouth open for him. Rolan rolls his hips slower as his eyes watch yours, completely dilated with lust; with a nod of his head, you know he’s ready, and with a parting of his lips, you’re catching his sweet spit and swallowing eagerly, relishing in how it instantly makes your body more sensitive to everything your feeling. Rolan groans as you clamp down on him, and your body grows hotter. He picks up his pace, wrapping his tail tightly around your other leg and pulling you down onto his with every thrust.
Rolan buries his head into the side of your neck once more, his lips on your sweating neck as his breath is the only thing to cool your body in this heated passion, “fuck…so soft…tight, ah and mine…”
Rolan’s teeth slide along your skin as he thrusts in tandem with his growls of, “Mine, mine, Mine!”
All you can do is hold on and moan your yeses; you’re his, you have always been his, and you always will be.
His nails dig into you, and his words slip to that of infernal as he continues to build you to that peak. Your pussy clamps down on him harder, making him whine and furrow his brows as his hips start to lose their rhythm to now reckless abandon. It’s all so hot and consuming, you are completely his, and all you can think of now is the man ramming into you and how his cock is consistently ramming on your sweet spot. Finally, you wrap your legs around his hips and bury your hands into his soft hair, softly pulling as you hold on; it’s enough to bring him to his peak, and as he bites down on your neck, feeling your hot blood against his teeth dripping onto his tongue your screaming his name as you clamp and squirt on his cock.
Rolan’s nostrils flare at the smell of your sweet release covering his cock and thighs, and he groans into your neck as he continues to rut like a desperate madman. The feeling of his cock on your sensitive skin as you writhing around in overstimulation. But Rolan just growls, and he pins you down in a strength you have never been privy to, And finally, you feel his burning cock twitch. As Rolan stills, you feel his hot cum flooding inside of you, it feels so overwhelming, and your body shakes as the feeling of being so full of him makes every part of you aflame, and you can’t help in relishing in the feeling of wanting him to burn you like this always.
After a moment, Rolan releases his mouth from your neck in a soft, whispered sorry. You are so fucked out of your mind you can only mutter something along the lines of an “Okay…”
As Rolan pulls out, you let out a whine as he slips from your used sex. You lean up to give Rolan a smile and perhaps some praise, and as you do, you see Rolan’s luminescent eyes glued to your sex. Rolan watches as his seed drools out; Rolan groans as he takes his thumb and gathers the mixing of both your releases on his digit and brings it to his mouth, licking it up and moaning at the taste. Your breath catches at the sight, and before you can say anything, your legs are spread and hooked over Rolans shoulders. His breath is so desperate as he watches your glistening sex drool.
You bite your lip and raise your hips closer to his waiting mouth; Rolan moans before his eyes flicking to yours, “It’s all yours…”
Rolan smiles as he licks a long strip up your sex, gathering the taste on his tongue. It only spurs him on more, and as he keeps eating both your releases from within you, moaning and purring as his tongue slips in and out. You squirm as your second high fastly approaches, but Rolan only responds to your whines by digging his nails into your ass to help you grind on his face as you hold on his horns like a lifeline.
It all reaches a peak as you’re cumming in a blinding passion, as Rolan drinks and slurps it all from you till there’s nothing left and your voice is raw. Rolan leans back up and licks his lips.
“I think I’m going to be the one who is addicted to your sweet taste…”
All you can do is laugh as he comes up, and again so, he’s holding you closely to his chest.
“I think we are just addicted to each other…”
Rolan smiles as he buries his nose into your hair, holding you even tighter, “I think you’re right.”
Guard Captain Aram (M) x F!Reader (wip)
Because I feel bad with how long this is taking to come out, and I am currently stuck on how to proceed, I'm posting this as is.
I intend to complete it annd post it as a whole, but since I'm stuck, you got this. Consider this as a type of two-parter until I can work out how to write someone having a date and how conversations work. I swear I'm a good writer, guys!!! I know how sentences and dialogue works.
Words: 9.9k
Theme/Plot: (Fantasy/Medieval) You're a merchant, new to the city looking to start a business from the ground up. Having purchased a cheap, run-down building as your starting point, you work hard to make something of the little things you have. But after a string of robberies, you find yourself as the centre of the Guard Captain's attention.
The rain came down in pouring sheets. Deafening you inside your own dwelling as a year's worth of rain pummeled the tiled roof.
Thunder clapped overhead so close to the city roofs that the window panels shook in their frames.
It was a gloomy day. One that made the hours in the shop drag by at a snail's pace. Not a soul was out today. For good reason, or else they’d risk being washed away by the water flowing down the street drains. Thankfully, there was alot of old stock you needed to organize and catalog to keep you busy.
The storm was a blessing in disguise. Despite the chilly weather.
With the lack of customers to keep an eye on and take commissions for, it allowed you to tune up the shop within your actual work hours. And not drip over into the late afternoon like you dreaded.
And with the ample amount of downtime came the close inspection of how your little, ancient store held up in such a harsh rainstorm.
The last of your money had gone into buying this place. It was a cheap sale and the reasons for it were obvious. A small shop with a small dwelling connected to the back of it for residential purposes.
The paint on the front was peeling and much of the wooden beams needed some love and care. The windows had needed to be removed and replaced; they had been so grimey and cracked that it made the store look sickly from the outside. And dark and gloomy within.
Not to mention the rot within the wood in some places. Which had soaked up that lingering few coins you had after the sale. But it was better than leaving the place smelling like decaying wood and having openings for rats.
The roof seemed fine, the tiles were covered in moss and some were cracked, but you didn’t see any damage other than age.
It has been months since you bought it and this had been the first real change in sunny weather, so you were walking around the place constantly looking for leaks.
So far, nothing splashed against the wooden floor. Your little shack was holding up nicely under the rain, even if the walls groaned rather worryingly whenever the wind rushed through the city streets.
The shop was nothing spectacular, you knew that. But it was yours. And it was a much nicer place than the roadside stall you used to man while you traveled.
You glanced out the window as a flash of white light illuminated the dreary street outside. And winced at the image of you and your old horse and wagon in such weather.
Many times you had been caught out in storms like this. Losing stock to the water or your wagon’s wheels getting sucked into the muddy roads.
Looking back into your warm, dry shop; a new type of appreciation came to you with your decision to settle down. And you took a deep breath of dusty, humid air and smiled.
Your shop.
It still felt weird to say. But it was still just as exciting.
Over the thunder and tumbling rain, your shop-door’s bell chimed. Alerting you to two customers that all but barrelled into the dry space.
They were soaking. But smiled cheerfully as you greeted them. One had an umbrella that looked like the wind had torn it asunder and both their hoods were raised low over their faces. Leaving only their wide smiles for you to see.
“We are so sorry for dragging water in here.” One said, a woman. Rubbing her arms to retain some heat beneath the thick cloak. “But we’re in need of some alchemy ingredients, if you have any. You’re the closest store to ours and we’re low on some things to make cold remedies.”
The other customer, with the torn umbrella, looked around your small store with a grin. “You’ve really spruced this place up. It’s so much nicer here than what I last remember. The last owner did not care for this building at all.”
You smiled as their hoods were lowered. You recognized them as the potions store owners down the street. You spoke briefly once. They were nice people. But very busy. And their names eluded you, unfortunately.
“Welcome! And don’t worry about the water, it’s unavoidable at the moment. I think I tracked in half the realm’s mud this morning. Please, come in. What did you need exactly? I have a few stocks that might be what you need.”
The woman huffed with visible relief and hurried forward to your counter. Where you withdrew some small boxes of bottled ingredients and jars of various substances.
You didn’t sell anything but the basic materials. Your shop was more a general store than a particular theme. You still weren’t sure what you wanted to be in the city.
You’ve only ever known what you could carry. On the road, certain ingredients didn’t travel well. And jewelry or fine goods made you a target for bandits.
Here, within the safety of the city, you could be any type of trader you wanted. You just still weren’t sure what niche you wanted to be.
But your general goods were exactly what these two were looking for. And your eyes widened in surprise when they asked to buy your entire stock of your basic ingredients.
“I know it’ll put you out, but we’ll pay you an extra sum on top of the sale. Our next shipment of this isn’t for another week, and we have so many commissions coming in for cold remedies.” The man said. Already pulling out a large coin purse from his belt. “And you’ll be doing us a huge favor. If you need anything-”
“It’s a deal.” You said, waving away the man’s pleading stare. “We’ve got to look after each other after all. I was going to offer a discount since you’re buying such a large amount.”
The bell over your door chimed and you shifted behind your counter so you could see around the couple. A young woman shuffled into the store. Her eyes looked around the shelves with interest and a thin cloak was wrapped around her shoulders.
“I’ll be with you in a moment!” You called out to the woman. Seeming to startle her. But she smiled, it felt a little forced, and moved deeper into your store. Her eyes darted around and then back to you.
You were about to say something else when the potion’s woman handed you a sum of coins. “I insist. I know how frustrating it can be to be out of stock. Particularly ingredients like this. Please, take the extra sum. You’re doing us a huge favor with-”
The woman’s partner glanced over his shoulder as the woman at the back moved quickly towards the door. Her shoulders were hunched as she braced for the cold water to hit her as she opened the door.
“Hey! You, wait!” He shouted but the woman was already sprinting out the door. Almost slipping on the wet pavement outside. The potion’s man swore and handed his partner the purse. “That girl is the one who stole from us last week. Get the guards!”
Before you could react, the man was barreling out of your store and charging out into the rain. His partner seemed just as surprised as you but quickly pocketed the purse and looked at you.
“Do you have a way to summon the guards directly here?” You shook your head. Your heart was pounding in your chest. “I have one in my store. I’ll go call them. See if you can find out if that woman stole anything from you. I’ll be right back.”
The woman left her crate of goods behind as she hurried out of your shop. You were quick to follow, but went to where you last saw the woman browsing.
Your eyes flew from object to object. Taking note of any spots that seemed to have shifted or had missing stock.
Everything seemed fine. Until you noticed your small display of wands had been touched. These weren’t like the wands that witches and warlocks used. But temporary magical items that did various things depending on their make.
You had ordered these as a step into selling magical merchandise. To see how well they sold here. Kids adored the ones that created bubbles of light. And a few people purchased the design that acted as a quill that would write for you without you touching it.
You had recently restocked the display with other types. And there were two that were missing.
One was a water-make. Which either made water or removed it. Not enough to drain a lake or a pool, but a few buckets could be filled or emptied if needed.
And the second was a fire starter. Which spat sparks that would harmlessly bounce off of skin or clothes, but would light a small fire on even the most water-bogged logs or extinguish it.
You sighed. Already understanding why these particular items were stolen.
You’ve dealt with enough desperate people to know when it was necessity and not greed that pushed a person to steal.
You bit your lip. These wands weren’t expensive and were cheap stock to order.
Maybe if I’m quick I can stop the potions woman from calling the guards. You thought. But then you reminded yourself that the woman who stole from you, had also stolen from them. And over the first few months of owning and stocking this store, you’ve had more than your fair share of robberies and stolen items. If word got out that you let a person steal from you, this could spiral into something worse.
The best you could do for them was not press charges if the person is found.
You sighed again. Heavier than the last and moved through your store to get your cloak.
But on your way to the back, past a small lock-box display of jewelry, you noticed the glass lid had been pried open. The magical seal had been expertly dispelled and one of your silver rings, one that created a bubble of small protection, was missing.
You swore under your breath. Disappointment flooding through you.
Now you had to continue with the guards and hope they found the person.
That ring was an expensive item. The enchantment was a common one, but the ring amplified the bubble to be the size of a house. Something that was incredibly hard to do and would have taken alot of material to make such an enchantment safe and usable.
Hence why it was in a lock-box, under magical protection, and worth a decent sum of coins. Another one of your stretches into unknown territory with sales and items.
It was nothing so expensive that it would put a target on your store. But it was one of your pricier items, one that a customer had been eyeing off last time they passed through.
“They just had to steal that.” You grumbled. Slapping the lid back down on the lock-box. The seal buzzed as the box was closed again, letting you know the magic was once again activated. You gave it an experimental tug on the lid and when it didn’t open, without your key, you were happy enough to leave it.
You retrieved your cloak from the back of the shop and exited your store. Making sure the door was locked and hurried down the street to the potions store.
You were near drenched when you slipped into the two story building. But the moment your foot stepped over the threshold, you were flooded with warmth and your clothes tickled with magic that left you dry and comfortable.
You definitely needed that enchantment on your front door.
From behind the many shelves, the potions woman appeared, looking flustered as she hurried towards you. “The guards are on their way. Did that wretched thing take anything?”
“Some low magic wands and an enchanted ring.” You grimaced. “I don’t care for the wands, so much. But that ring is expensive. As long as I get that back, I’ll let it slide.”
The woman scoffed and gestured for you to follow her, leading you to the back of the store where a pot of tea and some small biscuits were waiting. “That woman stole two potions of healing and an iron-bark elixir from us. I know times are tough. And the potions were only small portions, not worth alot. But the iron-bark elixir is a very slow and ingredient heavy process. We can only make so many a month and they're in high demand with the guards and travelers. If she only stole the potions, we wouldn’t have pushed so hard to find her. But the elixir alone can fix us up for an entire month.”
Your eyes widened. “Those elixirs are that expensive?”
“Ours are, yes.” The woman said, a little proudly, as she poured you a cup of tea. “Ours doesn’t just give you thick skin and more strength, we’ve perfected a way that the aftereffect of the elixir doesn’t put you in a bed for a day. It’ll affect you for a few hours at best after you use the elixir but unlike our competitors iron-bark, you can get up and get ready for the day after a good night’s sleep.”
You whistled in appreciation for such craftsmanship. “That’s incredible. I can understand why she would try to take it then. Sell it off for some quick coin.”
The woman nodded. Sipping her tea after putting some honey in it and stirring. “I grew up very poor. I used to steal bread and clothes to get by. But stealing potions like ours? You put yourself at such risk for it. Even your ring! The wands can be overlooked. But something like that is just…silly.”
You stirred some honey into your own cup and allowed the conversation to fall away as you sipped. Thankfully, the potions man appeared in the doorway. Looking winded and red faced. “I couldn’t find her. The damn woman gave me the slip.”
“Better you don’t approach her, love.” The woman said, with a soft smile. “Let the guards deal with her. They’re on their way.”
The man nodded. Taking a deep breath that his body obviously needed. He looked at you and offered a smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t catch her. Did she steal anything?”
You explained the stolen stock and the man tsked. Muttering about the lack of respect for shopkeepers; “Especially one such as yourself. You’re just starting out! I recall my first few years as a storekeeper, my Gods, the ledger was never full enough. And every piece of missing stock was precious.”
You nodded, chuckling along with the man as he shook his head. “Well, at least our sale will help me out until I can get a replacement or the ring is found. I’ll bring the stock over once we’ve spoken with the guards. I didn’t think to bring it over just now.”
The two waved you off. Saying they trust you enough to not skip their deal because of a distraction like this.
The three of you chatted idly while you waited for the guards to arrive.
And when they did, you immediately recognized three amongst them.
One was a tall elf woman by the name of Yesrie. Dark hair with sharp eyes but a warm smile.
The second was a human man named Smith. You never got his first name because everyone called him by his second. He had been in his first year in the Guard when you arrived; eager to help and prove himself, he had taken your reports on missing items like a personal attack. And hunted them down like he was the one who owned them.
Then the third, the Guard Captain’s right hand, Briar. A green lizardman built like a stone barn. They were a stoic type of individual. Had a sharp tongue when it came to humbling their guards but professional when it came to their work.
They all greeted you a little more warmly than they did with the pair beside you.
Your first few months here allowed you to become quite friendly with the Guard. Not by any intent of your own, but your new store in town got more attention than you bargained for. And not in a good way. Stolen merchandise meant the Guard got involved. And it happened so often within a few weeks that the Guard Captain had stepped in.
And with that sort of attention watching your store, the thieves dissipated quickly.
“(Y/N), why am I not surprised your shop was involved?” Briar asked, crossing their arms over their armor plated chest. Their iron gauntlets clinked against the metal. “I had hoped that the call meant a different store.”
You shrugged, sighing dramatically. “It wouldn’t be a Thursday without something of mine going missing.”
Smith and Yesrie laughed. Briar’s reptilian face rarely showed much emotion other than a hard stare. But you glimpsed their scaly lips twitch in amusement.
“Indeed. You know the drill, then. What happened? Every little detail, as you know, helps us out.”
You explained the events that transpired within your store. Explaining why the potion-store owners were involved, which gave them a chance to explain how they recognized the person who stole from you.
Briar nodded along, taking in everything you said. Yesrie commented they were the guard that took the potion store’s report and that this thief was targeting many stores in the district, not just a few.
Smith was writing down notes in a small notebook that was the size of his palm. Asking the usual questions like the woman’s hair color or description. Which you had to let the potion shop owners answer, because you didn’t really take notice of the woman.
Then when you got to the descriptions of the stolen items, Briar’s tail twitched in irritation. Nothing directed at you, you found out. “Well, that complicates things. Stolen magical items of significant power require a formal report issued by the owner. Meaning, (y/n), you’re gonna have to go to the Guard House and fill one out.”
You groaned in annoyance. You had to fill out a report once before. It took forever. And you really didn’t feel like going across the district to the Guard House in this weather.
But if you want that ring back, or at least be compensated for its loss, you’ll need to go.
“I’m guessing I’ll need the paperwork I received for purchasing the item to sell?” You asked and Briar nodded.
“Proof of purchase or the license which came with the item. Anything that has the item’s description and magic detailed alongside your ownership. And it’s something you need to do at the House, too. We can’t issue you one, since you need a scribe to sign off on it and witness you filling it out.”
“All that for a magical item?” The potions woman scoffed. “Damn, I’m happy we never got into that side of the business.”
You wish you could agree with her. But you were definitely going to make an adjustment to your stock and protection so you didn’t have to go through this again.
“Alright. Thank you for your time. Sorry you had to march through this weather for my store again.” You said. And Yesrie shrugged, glancing out the window as another flash of lightning lit up the dim street outside.
“The weather makes you appreciate the sunny days more. We’ll see you at the House, (y/n).” Yesrie replied. And the guards took their leave.
You soon followed suit. Promising the potion owners you would bring their merchandise around soon. But they waved you off. Telling you to deal with the reports and the guards first before worrying about them.
You were beginning to really appreciate them. And made sure to lower the price on anything the two needed in any later deals.
Back inside your shop you made quick work of finding the needed documents that involved any transaction or information of the ring.
Which you then wrapped up in a leather satchel that was worn and aged from many years on the road. An old trusty item you’ve carried with you everywhere before placing it in the drawer of your new work desk.
It would protect the documents from the rain and keep them nice and flat while you trekked the stormy streets.
You wrapped yourself up in as much water-proof clothing as you could. Your cloak was your best chance at keeping yourself dry but watching the sky still bucket down torrents of water, you doubted you’d stay warm for long.
As long as the documents were safe, you could endure the rain.
And walking through the streets was just about as miserable as you expected. You stuck to any type of cover you could as you walked. Storefront canopies or trees that were planted along the paths. The thunder felt like it was roaring directly in your ear as you braced against the chilling wind.
You wrapped your cloak tightly around you and pulled your hood down so low over your face you could only see the pavement in front of you.
Every glance up at where you were going was a risk of cold water trickling down your neck and into your warm clothes.
You zigged and zagged through the district until you came upon the large stone steps of the Guard House. The House itself was huge! Meant to house many of the district's officers and their cadets. This one also doubled as a school for fresh-faced persons looking to become a guard.
As you climbed the steps to the door, you could hear someone yelling at said cadets beyond the stone wall that secluded the training yards from the streets.
You grimaced at the thought of training in such weather.
As you stepped through the doors, the same magic from the potion shop passed over your clothes. However, this enchantment felt like it was spluttering. Parts of you were left dry while other sections were left merely damp.
You were warmer than before you stepped inside but your fingers still felt icy as you approached the receptionist at the desk.
You greeted them warmly and explained what you needed to fill out. And the receptionist motioned for you to walk down a hallway and then turn right, which would lead you to the scribes that would help you out.
You thanked her and headed in your pointed direction.
The House was bustling with activity. You passed many guards through the halls, swathed in armor and weapons. A few scribes hurried by and you even made room for a woman with a mean looking hound to pass you in the hall.
She thanked you as she kept the beast on a short leash. The hound didn’t pay you any mind so you knew it was more for your sense of space than the dog’s.
But you found the scribe room easily enough and the man behind the desk went through the process of the report.
It was a long document too. With a handful of pages that you needed to fill out and agree too. The scribe looked equally annoyed with the prospect, apparently he needed to go over it and sign off as you went. It would take time out of both of your afternoon’s. But he took you to the side to a desk so you could sit comfortably and fill it out.
Excusing himself and asking you to call him over when you got to a particular section before moving on through the document.
You hoped the scribe didn’t think your agitation was directed at him as you sighed and sat down. But you got to work, reading over the lengthy questions and paragraphs with a quill in your hand.
A few minutes later, Briar entered the room and went to the scribe desk, speaking softly. When the scribe nodded and disappeared through a door, their eyes passed over you once before snapping back as they spotted you. They came over to greet you. Their tail dripped a little with rainwater. “Ah, it’s good to see someone with initiative. You got here quickly.” Briar said, leaning against another desk to your left.
“Better to get it out of the way now than later.” You shrugged. “You wouldn’t have happened to stumble across my thief with my ring by chance? So I don’t have to do this?” You asked, hopefully. But Briar shook their head.
That twitch pulled at their scaly lips again as a hissing chuckle whistled through their sharp teeth.
“If only we were that lucky. I have to do my own paperwork about it, as well. I envy you. I’d rather do your documents than my own.” Like the scribe was summoned, he appeared and placed a thick folder of paper on the front desk. Briar thanked him gruffly and went over to scoop it up. Grumbling as he showed you the thickness of the folder. “See. No complaining from you about lengthy reports. I will probably beat you on every account.”
You laughed and nodded. “I do feel a little better about my report now. Thanks.”
“Here to help. Enjoy.” Briar said with a curt nod before leaving the room.
You refocused your attention on the documents in front of you. Calling over the scribe when he didn’t look too busy once you got up to the section he requested.
And while he looked over what you wrote and ensured everything was in order, you let your gaze wander. The scribe hall looked like a bustling library. Desks and chairs were scattered about the room. And behind the front desk were many, many towering shelves of books and scrolls.
Scribes appeared and disappeared behind each corridor of paper. Some carried in armfuls of paper or were discussing something with a guard.
It was all very busy here. But the chatter was rather quiet. You wondered if there was some sort of magic that kept the sound of the hustle and bustle at a low range.
“Scribe Harry, I was told that- Oh, (y/n), what are you doing here?” Your attention snapped to the door of the hall as your name was voiced.
Guard Captain Aram strolled over to where you were sitting. Making your heart skip a beat when he leaned over the back of your chair to inspect the report.
Aram was an orc with a heavy green complexion that contrasted the pale patches of skin on his body caused by vitiligo. His blonde hair was tied back in uniform to the neat standards of the Guard.
His tusks curved out from his lower lip, decorated by silver caps on the blunt tips. His thick arms were wrapped in thick leather that slid under a heavy metal chest piece with the Guard’s symbol carved into the steel. The patches on his shoulders displayed his rank, if the better armor and air of authority didn’t already display it.
“I was robbed again.” You sighed. Pushing down the sudden rush of nervousness as you turned your attention to the captain. “A magical item this time. Briar came and sorted it out and told me to come here.”
Aram’s brows knitted together and you could have sworn you saw a spark of amusement light in those beautiful emerald eyes. Before the stoic expression of a guard captain fell back into place. “Ah, yes, the grand paperwork involved with magic. I thought you said you wanted to keep simple stock for a time.”
You nodded. Having to pause your answer to thank the scribe as he pushed the report back to you to continue writing. “Yes. But a friend of mine had some stock they couldn’t move in the settlement nearby. So, I took it off their hands.”
“And then someone decided to take it from yours.” Aram said. He glanced over at the scribe as he moved some dropped off paperwork into the shelves behind him. “Hmm, this will go quicker if I take over for the scribes. The poor bastards have had their hands full recently.” Then Aram called out to the scribe nearby, Harry, who looked relieved when Aram explained he’d be taking over witnessing you finish the report.
“Do you mind if we do this in my office? The magic in here makes my ears ache.” Aram asked. And when you nodded, Aram escorted you through the building to his office. Which you had been in once before when Aram had taken over the investigation of why your store was being targeted so frequently.
He closed the door behind you and you took the offered seat in front of his desk. Which he then slid your seat closer to the desk and made space on the surface for you to start the next section of the report.
He moved your chair so effortlessly with you in it that it made your stomach flip a little giddily. But you hid your smile as you busied yourself with reading over the next section.
“I was recently thinking about you. And, uh, the reports you had to make on your store.” Aram said rather quickly, fiddling with some papers on his desk. “It’s been a while since your last break in. I thought my trick did the job, to be honest.”
“For a while it did.” You agreed. Pausing to write down the description of the ring. “The extra patrols you had around the place seemed to scare them off. And gave me enough time to better the security of my shop. I still spot Smith on occasion in the area. But he always seems busy. I hope you’re not working him too hard.”
Aram chuckled. Picking up a quill of his own and scribbling over some papers on his desk. “The boy is fine. He’s eager for the work. But, uh…” You tore your eyes off the paperwork long enough to see why Aram didn’t finish his sentence.
His eyes were narrowed and his lips were pursed in a poor attempt at looking angry, looking over your head to the windows behind you.
You turned your head. And you caught a glimpse of something quickly darting out of view of the office. The room was enclosed but anyone in the hallways had a clear view of you sitting at Aram’s desk. The Guard Captain grumbled and stood, clearing his throat as he flicked a small switch and curtains fell down over the windows leading to the corridor outside.
“Nosy bastards.” You heard Aram mutter. But you pretended not to hear him as he returned to his seat and continued working on whatever was in front of him. “I was going to say he wanted to be set in that district. Apparently, his aunt lives around there.”
“Aww, that’s sweet of him. I’ll be sure to annoy him any chance I get when I see him.” You said, refocusing on the paper in front of you. You reached the next spot the scribe had told you to call for him and offered the papers to Aram.
Who went over the report swiftly and then handed it back to you after he signed off on the part he needed too.
“A ring of protection, huh? That didn’t move at your friend's establishment?” Aram asked, surprised. And you shook your head, writing as you responded.
“Their town was going through a drought. Which is probably being washed downriver right now with this rain. But no one had the money to purchase a ring like that. I offered to buy it off them and then give them a percentage if I manage to sell it. We used to travel together before they bought their store. They helped me get my place. Since I had no idea how to purchase property.”
Aram made a thoughtful noise, watching you as you worked. “Why didn’t you buy a place outside the city? Probably would have been cheaper. And also get you a better place than that splinter shack.”
“Hey, that’s my splinter shack you’re insulting.” You playfully snapped. Which made the Guard Captain laugh. “But I wanted to try the city. I’ve never stayed in one for long. And I thought a change of lifestyle would be refreshing.”
“And is it refreshing?” Aram asked.
You paused to look up at him, smiling. “Well, the people are much more interesting.” You let the sentence hang in the air for a touch longer before continuing. “And there’s always something happening here. And the food! Oh my Lords, I’ve never had such a wide variety of food always available. Every morning I get a fresh coffee with a freshly baked bun. A much better change than living off of dried meats and stale bread with cheese.”
Aram grinned at that. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the candlelight. “So, you think you’ll stay here for good then. This string of robberies hasn’t scared you off?”
You scoffed lightly and shook your head. “I’ve fought off armed bandits and kobolds from my goods before. A few hooded figures isn’t going to scare me off. I’ve gotten too comfortable sleeping in an actual bed now to give it up.”
Your words seemed to widen Aram’s smile. “Well, good to hear. The city always needs more good people like you in it. It would be a shame to see you go.”
Something in the way Aram spoke made your pulse quicken. Or maybe how his fingers brushed over your hand as you handed him the documents again for him to look over.
Either way, you were suddenly very aware of how little room there was between the two of you. Even if the desk was large enough to sit such a big man behind it, it felt like Aram was close enough to touch.
And as you took back the paperwork, you thought it was silly of you to think that he was putting his hand directly so that your fingers brushed over his.
It didn’t stop you from feeling how warm his hand was. Nor notice how much larger his hand was compared to yours.
You felt your cheeks flush with heat and you tried very hard to concentrate on the papers in front of you.
It still took an hour to go over everything, but you managed to finish the documents required. Aram took it upon himself to file it away as soon as possible. And asked you a few more questions about the robbery before opening the door of his office for you.
“I’ll be in touch in a few days.” Aram said, leaning against the doorframe. “If we find anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Thank you for your time, Captain Aram.” You said and then added jokingly. “And I’ll be sure to let you know if something else goes missing from my store.”
Aram laughed. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.” Then he glanced to one of the nearby windows as a crash of thunder sounded overhead “Have you got a way of getting back to your store? It’s still pouring outside.”
You grimaced and a shiver ran over you at the thought of the walk back. It was later in the afternoon now. The sun wouldn’t be set yet, but with the dark clouds overhead and closing to sunset, it was already pretty dark outside.
“No. It’s not that far of a walk, though. I’ll be fine.” You lied. And knew Aram would know this was your attempt at being polite and not complaining.
Aram’s warm smile dimmed and he shook his head. “I’m not having you walk home in this. I’ll get someone to drive you back.”
Your eyes widened and you tried to make an excuse that would justify not needing a driver. But Aram caught sight of Smith walking past and called him over.
“Yes, Captain?” Smith said as he approached. Looking between you and Aram worriedly.
“Get a carriage and drive (y/n) back to her store. And no side stops on your way back, got it.” Aram said, his voice harsh with authority as Smith’s confusion turned into something close to amused glee. He nodded and then looked at you.
“Your chariot is this way, ma’am.” He said with a little more bravado than needed. And you looked at Aram with a joking glare.
“You’re really going to subject me to this?” You asked. And Aram’s stern facade broke with a smile.
“I’d rather not hear that you got washed away by a river on your way home. Get her home safe, Smith.” Aram said before closing the door and leaving you to a beaming Smith as you followed him through the House.
“So, what did you and the Captain talk about in there?” Smith asked. Wiggling his shoulders in a teasing manner as he led you out into an enclosed barn connected to the Guard House. Where a carriage was currently being connected to two brown horses.
“He was overseeing the report I needed to fill out about the ring.” You explained. Ignoring the tiny flush of embarrassment that crawled up your neck. “The scribes were busy and he had time.”
Smith blew a harsh breath out of his lips. “Puh-lease, the Captain never has time.” And then so quietly you almost missed it. “But that seems to change for you.”
You chose to ignore him and wait by the House doors while Smith spoke with the person hooking the animals up. He then waved you over and opened the carriage door for you.
“My Lady.” He bowed his head and you tsked playfully at him.
“Stop that. It’s embarrassing enough as it is. Being escorted back home by a guard.” You mumbled as you climbed inside. Which got you a laugh from Smith.
“Come on, enjoy it! How many times have you been safely escorted home like the rich folk? Beat on the roof if you need me to stop for anything, alright?”
Smith closed the door once you were comfortably seated and you heard him clamber onto the front of the carriage.
The carriage itself wasn’t anything extravagant. The seats were plush enough to stop you from sitting on hard wood and there was enough space to fit four people.
It still felt a bit excessive for only you to be in here. But at least you weren’t going to be walking in the rain.
Your body lurched a little as Smith urged the horses into moving. And soon enough the carriage was filled with the deafening roar of rain pelting the roof above you.
You felt bad for Smith sitting up front. You had glimpsed a small canopy over the driver's seat. But that would be very little protection against the storm as it whipped around him outside.
You sighed. Relaxing against the seat as you glanced through the fogged window to the passing streets.
They were mostly empty. Apart from a few store fronts preparing to close for the afternoon. And some carriages that trotted past.
You haven’t gotten to experience a carriage ride in the city yet. You’ve been so busy with the store that any luxuries you usually would have gotten with your money were forgotten. Or spent on the store itself.
It was kind of peaceful watching the city pass you by.
You would definitely be sending another bakery basket to Aram for this. He had enjoyed the first one you sent after he helped keep your store safe last time.
I’m not having you walk home in this.
His words bounced around in your head like an endless echo. And you found yourself smiling.
And the way he had put his hand in the path of yours? It made your heart skip just thinking about it.
You shook your head. Trying to scatter the thoughts that were attempting to wriggle into your mind.
“Oh, stop it.” You sighed to yourself. “He’s just making sure you’re safe. That’s his job after all.”
You knew you wanted it to be a lie the moment you said it.
But you refused to think of any other reason that Aram would be doing this. You didn’t need something like that in your life just yet. You were busy as it was.
But…A small voice whispered. You definitely need something like him. Even only for a night or two.
Your cheeks burned as the thoughts spiraled and you shook your head again. Refusing to let those thoughts get any more traction than they already have.
It…has been a long time. But you were a business woman now. You had more important things at this moment than scratching that itch. Once the store was a little more organized and things calmed down, then maybe, maybe, you’d think about it.
You sat in your hurricane of a mind as Smith drove through your district and finally came to a stop just outside your store.
You went to open the door but Smith was already there. Drenched from head to toe but all smiles, bowing his head dramatically.
“My Lady! A pleasant ride, I hope.”
“Oh my Gods, you poor thing. Get back as quickly as you can before you catch a cold.” You gasped as you slipped out of the carriage. Hurrying to the safety of your store front.
“I’m fine. Get inside! I’ll let the Captain know you’re safely at your castle.” Smith called over the rain. And you didn’t even bother retorting, merely stuck out your tongue at him as you waved him off.
You heard him laugh and watched through your store windows as the carriage pulled away and disappeared into the heavy sheets of rain.
~*~
A few days later, the bell over your door chimed as someone entered. You called out to the customer that you’d be with them shortly and finished what you were doing in the back before greeting them behind your counter.
“Aram!” You beamed as the Guard Captain approached you. “What a surprise! Good news? Or bad news?”
Aram made a face like he was deciding, jokingly clicking his tongue as he leaned his arms on your counter. Crossing them over each other and coming down to your eye height.
“Which do you want first?” He asked.
You pursed your lips, hopelessly ignoring how Aram’s gaze flicked to your mouth before returning to your eyes as you said, “Good news first.”
“We found the woman who stole your items. Your ring is being processed and looked over to ensure it hasn’t been tampered with. It’ll take a few days to get back to you.”
You sighed with relief. “That’s good. But…the bad news?”
Aram’s grin made his eyes crinkle adorably as he shuffled his weight on his feet. He cleared his throat and it felt like he was forcing his gaze to stay on you. “The bad news is that I lost a bet involving the case. And you unfortunately will be put on the spot as I ask you out to dinner.” He cleared his throat again and stood at attention in front of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as he swallowed hard and said. “Would you like to go out to dinner with me?”
It was almost adorable at how worried Aram looked as you stared up at him. And it was even more so when relief washed over his expression as you nodded.
Before you realized you were even replying, you had said yes. You laughed sheepishly, shaking your head. “You lost a bet and you were forced to ask me out to dinner?”
“I wouldn’t say forced. That makes it sound like I didn't want to.” Aram replied. Scratching the back of his neck, under the thick braid of blonde hair. “I want to take you to dinner. I have for a bit now. I just…things got in the way and I wasn’t sure if you would be interested in me and…I’m sorry. I’m rambling.” He cleared his throat again. “This is me asking you to dinner, sincerely.”
“What would have happened if you didn’t?” You asked.
“Probably be called a coward by my men.” Aram replied. “Or someone would have done it for me, I’m sure. Or somehow talked you into asking me out. I don’t know. They’re very nosy. Very much like a bunch of highschoolers.”
“But they gave you an opening to ask me out to dinner. So, I would forgive them.” You said with a chuckle. And Aram visibly relaxed with the sound. “When would you like to set this dinner? I’m free most afternoons. I’m sure it’s your schedule we have to work around.” You said teasingly. And Aram nodded.
“I’ll free up my night next Friday, if that’s ok with you? I know it’s a while away but this week is choked up with work already.” When you nodded, Aram’s smile broadened and your body became heated under his sparkling gaze. You both discussed a place to eat, but since you rarely went out other than cafes and small take-away establishments, Aram promised he’d surprise you with a brilliant place to dine. “I’ll pick you up around seven? If the rain hasn’t stopped by then, I’ll bring a carriage around for us to use.”
You sarcastically rolled your eyes, “Please do not make Smith drive us. That was torture last time.”
Aram laughed but shook his head. “No, no. I won’t be letting those vultures anywhere near our dinner. I promise.”
Once you confirmed again the time and date, Aram excused himself, having to continue his patrol around the district. And the moment he left, your heart soared with excitement at the thought of dinner with Aram.
~*~
Friday couldn’t come any quicker.
The rest of the week fell into a snail like pace, dragging day and night until the morning of your dinner date with Aram.
The rain didn’t subside. Most of the city was now flooded or close to it.
You had braced your store for the worst. Purchasing new tables with waterproofing and protective surfaces, so if the water started to rise and your store was flooded, at least some of your merchandise would be saved.
Coincidentally, as you were unloading the transport carriage that had said furniture, three city guards came over to help unload them.
You didn’t know any of them, but you thought it was sweet that some passing guards saw you and the transport man struggling to move a table, and decided to help.
But that seemed to become a pattern over the course of the week leading to Friday.
You saw more guards than usual in the district and some greeted you as if you knew them. Smith came over to you whenever you were out. Conversing until he needed to leave for his patrol and you needed to return to the shop.
Briar dropped by and returned the ring to you. They was a lot more friendly than the prior meetings you had with them. They actually cracked a few jokes with you.
You finally caved when Yesrie just happened to be in the area on Friday morning. Popping by with a coffee for you. “Are all of you around here because I’m going out with Aram?” You asked. And Yesrie was terrible at feigning ignorance, even if she was joking the entire time she replied.
“You’re going out with my captain? That’s amazing! I didn’t know at all.”
You rolled your eyes and shooed her out of your store. Thanking her for the coffee and company before you needed to get to work.
But finally, the time came to close the store and begin getting ready for your date.
You chose something simple to wear but something to also make you look downright gorgeous. Being in the city had its perks and the ample amount of shops around allowed you to browse and pick something amazing for yourself.
You had half the thought it could be a touch overdressed, but you weren’t sure where Aram was taking you. And you did look good in it! So you wrestled down the nerves and waited for Aram to arrive.
You kept your hands busy with small things in your shop before a heavy knock sounded on your front door.
You quickly opened the door for Aram and he stepped inside wrapped in a thick cloak and hood sprinkled by the rain.
“Damn, look at you, (y/n).” Aram beamed. His eyes didn’t seem to know where to look. They definitely lingered along your chest and hips, but respectfully flicked up to hold your gaze very quickly when he caught himself staring. “I feel a little underdressed now.”
You glimpsed his attire beneath the cloak. Dark dress pants with a deep brown shirt that hugged his large frame snugly. He had decorative leather bracers along his wrists and his hair was neatly bundled up in a collection of braids. Each had small trinkets adorning the strands.
“Nonsense,” You said a little breathlessly. Have you ever seen this man out of uniform? “You look very dashing.”
Your words made his smile crinkle his eyes and he opened his cloak up to you. Nodding to the carriage waiting outside. “I forgot to bring you an umbrella.”
“Ah, yes. I also don’t own one.” You said, hoping the way you moved up beside him didn’t seem too eager.
And you absolutely had an umbrella. But you were not going to miss an opportunity to snugly press yourself against Aram.
Once you were standing against his side, Aram lowered his arm enough that the cloak surrounded you almost entirely. A sweet scent wafted off of him to you and you shivered as your arm brushed against his side.
He was so warm!
Together you exited the store, halting long enough to lock the front and then quickly dash to the carriage. Where a driver was waiting in the rain to open the door for the two of you.
You felt utterly terrible for the man. But as you clambered into the carriage, you caught a glimpse of your driver.
An automaton. A being made of metal and mechanical parts bowed their head as you greeted them. Their clothes were drenched but they didn’t seem to mind as Aram joined you in the carriage, taking the seat next to you, and the automaton closed the door behind him.
“Did you hire a driver for tonight?” You asked. Baffled by the beautiful interior of the carriage. It was much fancier than the one Smith drove you in. And the rain didn’t thunder the roof in this one. You could barely hear it as Aram responded.
“No. This is my carriage. Anthony out there works for me.” Aram said this as if it was a normal occurrence for someone to have an automaton driver. Or their own fancy carriage.
You tried not to balk at his words. Instead made room for him to remove the damp cloak and fold it on the seat across from the both of you.
“I didn’t know being a Guard Captain paid so well.” You teased. Watching Aram as he adjusted his shirt and ensured his bracers were still correctly placed on his wrists. There was a slight scruff along his cheeks and he had replaced the silver caps on his tusks with gold ones.
Damn, he dressed up nice.
Aram smiled and your heart shuddered when he winked at you. “It also pays to have been a successful adventurer beforehand.”
Your eyes widened and Aram laughed as you said, “Wait, you haven’t been a stuck up captain all your life?” Though your words were sarcastic, you couldn’t help but be impressed. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have guessed that was your past. Maybe a soldier of some kind? But not an adventurer.”
“You’d be amazed at how many guards of mine are retired adventurers or travelers looking to settle down. I knew the old captain before he retired. It sped up my promotions, I’ll admit, but I proved myself just like everyone else.” Aram admitted. Relaxing against the plush back seat of the carriage. “Chasing down burglars and walking the streets at night is a much better alternative to dungeon crawling.”
You hummed in agreement. “I do not miss the cold nights or falling asleep hungry. But there was definitely a charm to traveling that the city doesn’t have.”
It was Aram’s turn to agree with a grunt. “I do occasionally miss having the time and freedom to do whatever I want. But I wouldn’t give up my position for anything. Least of all, leave my Guards behind just to go treasure hunting.”
You caught a light twinkling in Aram’s eyes as he spoke. And his smile curled warmly at the corners. It was no secret that Aram was as loyal as any to the Guard, but there was definitely a type of kinship between them all as well.
“That does remind me,” You said, tilting your head teasingly at Aram. “Did you order more guards to patrol my district? I keep tripping over them everytime I leave the shop.”
Aram didn’t look surprised, but he didn’t look pleased about what you said either. “Ah, I was wondering why some of them took longer to return after their patrols.” You waited for Aram to say something else. And when he didn’t, you set a pointed stare on him, urging him to continue whatever thought was bouncing around in his head. Aram chuckled with a half roll of his eyes. “Alright, alright. This is a little embarrassing, but I believe they’re keeping an eye on you for me. On their own accord. I haven’t ordered anymore than the usual patrols in your district. But since…well, they’re a loyal lot and they want to make sure you’re safe.”
You laughed. It made sense why you saw Smith and Yesrie more than anyone else on your streets. “All because you asked me out to dinner?”
“Well…not just because of dinner. But that’s a conversation for later.” Aram said sheepishly. And he expertly changed the subject to your store and how it was faring in the weather. You let the conversation be swept into other topics, but you definitely would hold onto that little kernel of a question for later.
The ride through the city took a little longer than you expected. But soon, the streets outside transformed into a string of establishments on the docks. And the carriage was taken through a route that ran along the rough, crashing oceanside.
The beach looked absolutely ruined from the harsh tides. And the dark gloomy horizon was nothing more than a black screen of storm clouds.
Despite the rain, the street itself was bustling with activity. Lights illuminated the roads brilliantly in warm orange. And all along the sidewalk were canopies and large overhanging roofs to give shelter to the patrons that walked by.
Your carriage was taken to a restaurant that had a grand glass ceiling and a large balcony with many tables seated beneath it. Your table was directly next to the balcony edge, where a shield of magic protected you and Aram from the torrent of rain slashing down from above.
And you found yourself pleasantly warm as Aram pushed in your chair as you took your seat. The business must have heating enchantments placed around to keep their patrons comfortable.
“This place is lovely.” You said as your waiter passed you both a menu. Excusing themselves to give you time to look over their drink choice.
“It’s one of my favorite spots in the city. The ocean view usually is better, but I can at least trust the food will be good.” Aram explained, glancing over the railing to the harsh waves and dark waters. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all.” You quickly reassured him. “I’m just happy to have an excuse to go out. I’ve been putting off going out for dinner for a while. I don’t know alot of people here yet. I wouldn’t know where to start.``
“Well, I hope my choice becomes one of your favorites.” Aram smiled.
The conversation fell into a simple one of work. Aram asked more questions about your store while you prodded about his life in the Guard.
“Things have gotten better over the past few months.” Aram admitted, drawing idle circles on the condensation of his cup of mead. “But I’m sure…activities will pick up closer to the holiday season. I dread to think about that time of year. But it is at least never lacking on slow days.”
“I used to avoid cities during their festival seasons. As backwards as that is for a traveling merchant.” You said in return. “It always caused me more grief than coins. But I guess it’s unavoidable now that I have a permanent spot here.”
~~~~To Be Continued Because my brain is stuck~~~~~~
As always, feedback or suggestions are welcome!!
Scarlet Milk - Doppelganger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Word Count - 5.2k
Rating - Explicit
CW - sexual content, blood drinking
Also available on AO3
fanart by kaworinx
Your eyes flick to the clock mounted on the wall. Your morning shift at the telephone exchange was almost over.
“What number, please?”
You scan the switchboard for the correct sequence, removing and plugging in the jack to connect the call seamlessly. The next number requested is for a different exchange and you transfer the call with barely a delay.
At last it’s time to set the headset down. Your work as a telephone operator is done for the day.
Business in the telephone exchange office had really picked up since the war, and had increased further still after the DDD began their operation to help identify and weed out the invading doppelgangers. It’s the perfect time to work, getting as many hours as you need and stowing away the extra funds for a rainy day.
You ride a bicycle to work since your employer isn’t far from home. A little rougher going in the winter months, but now it was spring, the weather warming up nicely, the budding trees and renewed verdant color in lawns further signs that the seasons were changing.
You’ve barely left the city behind and entered the suburbs before you run into trouble: a sharp object, perhaps a bit of glass or metal, has punctured one of your tires. You slip off the bike seat after coming to a bumpy halt, now forced to walk alongside the bike the rest of the way home. You think there’s a repair kit lurking somewhere in the house, you’re just not entirely sure where.
You spy a milk delivery sitting near the front door of one of the houses you pass, still remaining unclaimed at this late morning hour. A small blue and yellow bird perched on the rim of one of the bottles is startled by your presence and temporarily abandons its assault on the foil lid before it regains its confidence and returns, the beak breaching the barrier so that it can drink the rich cream that has risen to the top. Clever, naughty thing. You’d shoo him away but you know it or one of its brethren will just return anyway. You had to be careful nowadays, leaving something like that unprotected.
You had to be careful nowadays, period.
You spy the milkman’s truck further up the road, the driver near the tailgate, lifting his cap and dragging the back of a pale wrist against his perspiring forehead. The rear of the vehicle is empty, the goods inside all distributed for the day’s route.
Your pace slows as you draw closer, nodding a greeting to the man. You don’t recognize him. Maybe a new hire for the dairy company. The other driver had been getting older. Maybe he’d finally retired. At least, you hoped his sudden absence was for that pleasant reason and not something more sinister relating to the doppels. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” His voice is warm and friendly. You see his eyes focus on the deflated tire, then back up to your face. “Flat tire, huh? Need a lift?”
“Oh, no, I can manage, thank you. I’m nearly there.”
“I’m heading that way. There’s no reason to tax yourself.”
You shake your head. “Really, I’m fine.”
He shrugs. “Alright, then. Get home safe.” You watch as he seals the back doors and returns to the driver’s side, climbing up and settling behind the wheel. You suddenly feel foolish. The man was just trying to be kind, surely. He starts the engine and eases back onto the road slowly, decelerating to a meager crawl to keep pace with you, calling to you through the open window. “Last chance to change your mind.” He smiles. Handsome. He has such an honest face. Weary eyes. The early mornings no doubt leaving those inky shadows on ivory skin. He must be eager to be home now that his job was completed, yet he was still offering to help.
In spite of your earlier caution, you find yourself feeling it would be rude to decline again, and you accept the milkman’s offer. “Alright, thank you. I promise it’s not far and then you can be on your way. I’m sure you want to get home.”
The truck halts, the breaks squeaking slightly. Your bicycle is lifted effortlessly and stowed in the back. There’s no seat inside save for the driver, so you remain standing, bracing yourself against the rear of the cab awkwardly. At least you don’t have far to go.
“Anyone at home to help you with that flat tire?”
“No, I live alone,” you admit, then silently curse yourself. You shouldn’t be volunteering that kind of information, even if it was the truth. Your brother had left you with the inherited house after he’d moved in with his new wife last year, still disappointed that you hadn’t found someone yet, disapproving of your decision to choose to live independently in such strange, dangerous times. Now you’ve just revealed this vulnerable fact to a stranger. A male stranger.
“The birds have been at your deliveries again,” you say, searching for something to fill the sudden silence.
“So I’ve seen. They can’t resist the cream. Interesting story about that. It’s only one particular species, have you noticed?”
“I haven’t, actually.”
“They had no trouble before they started sealing the bottles, but even after the lids were implemented they persisted until they found a way to get inside. Taught the others how to do it, too. Adaptation and evolution are necessary for survival.”
“I suppose you’re right. This is my house here,” you point and the driver slows and stops, parking the truck along the curb and shutting off the engine.
“Let me give you a hand unloading the bicycle.”
“I appreciate it, thank you.”
“No problem.” The milkman stands. Suddenly the cab of the truck feels very small. He’s positioned so that he’s blocking the doorway, making no move to head to the back where your bike is being stored. The smile on your features slides off like melting ice cream on a summer day.
No. He couldn’t be.
Your heart begins to beat rapidly. The smile he offers doesn’t quiet touch his eyes this time.
“Actually, I’ll just um…I can get it. Thank you for the lift.” You try to ease past him, thinking to make your escape through the rear of the vehicle instead, but he slaps out an arm to bar your path, crowding you against the steel frame.
“We’re adapting, too. Evolving constantly. Getting better and better at blending in. Finding new ways to breach your homes and sate our hunger.”
“Please don’t kill me.” As if the doppelganger would have mercy. You feel tears pooling in your eyes. How foolish you had been, walking into his trap. Why hadn’t you trusted your instincts?
“I’m not going to kill you. Not yet, anyway. See, it’s occurred to me to take a page from those birds’ books, so to speak. Sample the sweetest, most nutritious part. And let the rest of the meal live on, thereby providing an endless supply, rather than gorging on one human in a single sitting, then being forced to find another. We’ve already seen what happens when we indulge too voraciously. It’s why we were forced to visit your planet, after all.”
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
“Your blood. That is what I desire. A sample each time, and then you go about your daily life as usual. A fair deal, isn’t it? Certainly a better offer than most of my kin would give you.”
“You want to…to…” You can even bring yourself to utter it out loud.
“Drink your blood, yes.”
“Like a vampire,” you whisper in horror.
“Something like that.”
“What if I refuse?”
“Then I consume you right here and now.”
Two tears spill over your cheeks. The doppel clucks his tongue. “There’s no need for that. It’s really a very obvious choice. The sooner you agree, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair for the remainder of the day.”
“Is it…is it going to hurt?”
“Not as badly as me tearing you apart with my claws, I assure you.” His features soften, and that impression of how handsome the original man he’s copied must be strikes you again. “This doesnt need to be violent. It will go easier for you if you don’t resist.”
You swallow thickly, trying to summon courage. “How do you know I won’t just call the DDD?”
“Because that would be a very, very foolish thing to do. And I think you are smarter than that, aren’t you?” His nostrils flare slightly and he inhales deeply. “I’m getting hungry. Do you agree to my terms or not?”
“What guarantee do I have that you’re not just going to kill me anyway?”
“None, other than my word.”
You could almost laugh. An invader asking you to trust him. To allow yourself to be fed upon until…when would this conceivably end? “How long will I have to do this for?”
He shrugs. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“Many things. How many others will supplement my diet. How much I decide to take. This will end whenever I say it ends,” he adds in a growl, and you shudder.
You close your eyes. “Alright. Just get it over with.”
“Not here. Wouldn’t want the neighbors to see, now, would we? Hop on down and I’ll deliver your bicycle. Then we can go inside and…have a little snack.”
You wish your neighbors would see your plight, but there’s no one to help you. The elderly man across the street was probably well into his morning nap. The young couple next door both worked. The housewife who lived on the other side was undoubtedly busy with chores, the children at school.
The doppelganger leans your damaged bike against the fence, following you up to the door, waiting for you to unlock it.
So. You really were going to invite him inside after all.
Normally you’d be fixing lunch at this time. Maybe doing some housework yourself. Now you set your keys in the trivet dish by the door and tuck your shoes neatly beside the frame, watching the doppel shut the door behind him.
“Come here.”
You’d taken a couple of steps further into the hallway and his voice makes you jerk to a halt. You warily turn back.
That smile again. Your stomach flips nervously as you move to stand beside him.
He makes a little hum of sound, pleased you’re being obedient and cooperative. Your hair is already pinned up, your throat exposed. Assuming that was where he was going to bite you. The thought makes your breath hitch and you close your eyes again, willing the moment to be over.
You feel the heat of his breath as he leans closer to your neck, hear another deep inhale. His lips graze your skin in the barest whisper of a kiss. His tongue traces a line down the side of your neck and then there is pain, sharp and fast, your body reflexively trying to pull away but his arms fasten around you, clutching your body against his.
“Relax,” he urges you again, his mouth lifting just long enough to issue the command to you before it returns and you feel the suction, the wet heat, that terrible drag of your life force pulled from the vessel beneath the skin. A little moan accompanies that gesture, sending vibrations as the alien savors the taste of you. Your fingers curl in his work shirt as you’re pushed back against the door. If there had been anyone there to see, it would have looked as if you were a young couple in the throes of passion. But there is no one witnessing this act. It is just you and the doppelganger.
“Enough,” he murmurs, his face revealed once more, no longer supping from your throat. You reach for the wound, surprised to find your hands coming away clean. No blood. Just scabbed puncture marks you can palpate with the pads of your fingers.
He’s breathing heavily. It had been hard to stop, maybe, fighting that natural instinct to kill and ravage. The dark eyes are bloodshot, a pair of fangs visible before they’re retracted again, the red haze gradually clearing as he continues staring at you. His appearance returns to that of the milkman he’s impersonating and he finally steps back.
“Tomorrow,” he says, a promise, a threat, before he exits, leaving you trembling, your fingers still cradling your neck. You hear the truck’s engine rumble to life.
Tomorrow.
***
He visits again the following evening.
You don’t know why you’d expected the doppelganger to be at your door at any particular time. Your anxiety has been peaking in anticipation. Dreading the next feeding. Still wondering what’s to stop him from just killing you anyway.
The marks he’d left had been surprisingly tidy. Easy enough to conceal. You’d struggled at work that day, your normally nimble hands and sharp eyes faltering more than once, your performance lacking. Your supervisor certainly noticed. You’d been spoken to. A warning.
Maybe you should take the next day off. Maybe you should…
A knock at the door interrupts your musings and you look up from the novel you’ve been attempting to distract yourself with.
He was here.
The temptation to phone the DDD is there again. But it would take them time to get here. You’d certainly be destroyed for your breach of contract long before the disposal team arrived.
You open the door.
He’s still wearing the milkman’s uniform, although this time he’s shed the cap, revealing the thick wavy brown hair that had been hiding beneath. Wordlessly you step back to make room for him to enter. Your eyes are on the floor now, suddenly shy. You hear the door being closed.
“Look at me.”
Your eyes lift and you gaze at the doppel through your lashes. Surely he could hear how elevated your pulse is. Did that entice him, that rapid flow of crimson liquid?
The mimic moves behind you, one arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you back against him. Fingers guide your head to dip to one side, a gentle nudge before his lips are at your neck again. The same side as before. They press more firmly this time. The stripe he licks reaches all the way to your ear lobe. A whimper escapes you. It feels good, even though it shouldn’t.
The sharp pair of the monster’s cuspids pierce your throat. Another choked sound escapes you, this one a blurred mixture of pain and pleasure. The fingers resting against your abdomen dig in. His other hand is braced against your chin, manipulating your head, keeping you in position while he takes what he desires.
You clutch at the hand on your stomach. You think you’d faint if you didn’t have him at your back. There is something hard pressing against you there, another need digging into the cleft of your buttocks. Arousal. Your cheeks feel hot. There are no longer teeth sunk into your neck but his mouth is still there, laving and caressing the injured flesh. Soft, wet kisses planted. “So sweet,” he breathes against your ear. “Your scarlet milk is the sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”
He departs minutes later and you stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you get ready for bed, wondering why you’re not more afraid.
***
The milk delivery truck is parked outside your home when you arrive there the next afternoon.
You lean your mended bike against the picket fence. There are people outside. Someone is raking leaves from last autumn. Children are tossing a ball back and forth. The doppelganger has a bottle of milk in his hand, the tips of his fingers clutching it by the neck. He’s leaning against the outside of the truck.
“Come inside,” you hiss, not trusting him not to make a spectacle right there and then. He smirks at your invitation, following you inside.
There are sunspots in front of your eyes. It was so bright outdoors. The interior of your house is darker, cooler. “You should be more discreet,” you mutter, your hands rubbing together restlessly. Nervous. You’re so nervous.
“No one is paying any attention. They didn’t care when I took the truck. They hand the goods over willingly. It’s made finding other…donors…so simple. Your kind is so oblivious to what’s right in front of them.”
“How many other people are you…?” The idea of the imposter operating as a milkman making deliveries as a guise to shield his true purpose of seeking more sources of that sinister meal he craves twists your stomach in knots. Worried. You’re guilty over what’s happening to your neighbors. Not necessarily your fault, but you knew about it, and you allowed it, participated in it…
“Not many. Discretion is best, we agree on that much.” He tips his head to one side thoughtfully. “Are you jealous?”
“Jealous? Why would I be jealous?”
“Don’t worry. You’re still my favorite treat.”
“I’m not jealous,” you reply defensively, perhaps a little too much vehemence behind the words. Was there some of that mixed in your emotions as well?
“You should let me give you a ride home one of these days,” he murmurs.
You frown, your reverie dissolving. “Why?”
“Because,” he drawls. Not an answer. His upper eyelids drip languidly as he sets the bottle on the kitchen counter. The foil lid is soon demolished into a crumpled ball. He drives a middle finger into the cream gathered at the top of the bottle, scooping out a dollop of the thick substance. “Open your mouth.”
“What?”
“This is the best part, isn’t it? You humans seem to enjoy it. Open,” he commands again, and this time there is a bit of a threat there, the easygoing teasing suddenly disappearing. His eyes darken and your lips part obediently. The digit pierces those borders and drives straight back across your tongue, your eyelashes fluttering, surprised, the brisk invasive movement catching you off guard. Your mouth closes reflexively over the offering and the wedge of muscle presses his finger against the top of your soft palate, the pad brushing past the ridges to find the smoother flesh as he offers you a taste. Your stroke across the joint of his knuckle, then the nail bed as he slowly withdraws back through the tight ring of your mouth, finally emerging with a soft popping sound.
“Good?” The word is croaked out hoarsely. Your heart jackhammers as you nod. You watch as he repeats the gesture in his own mouth, brow furrowing over the taste as he considers the flavor of the cream. “I prefer you instead.”
The doppel’s lips touch your throat. You can’t stop the needy sound that escapes. “I won’t see you for a few days. Need to let your body rest and replenish. You’re of no use to me without the proper nutrition.” He nips your ear lobe. “So I’m going to stay a little longer today. Prolong things. I’m sure you don’t mind.” His hands have found the bottom of your skirt, lifting the hem. There are curtains on the windows but anyone standing close enough outside could look in and see what’s happening. Your cheeks burn with shame, that rush of heat further elevated because some part of you wants this. His fingers snake beneath the waistband of your panties and dip between your legs, swiping through the arousal leaking from you to collect a sample.
He licks them clean. An appreciative hum. “Now this, I really enjoy. Why don’t you hop up here.” You never get the chance because he lifts you first, setting you on the edge of the counter. Your skirt is flipped back impatiently again, your panties dragged roughly down. And you allow it. You allow the manhandling of your clothes, your body, manipulated into balancing precariously on the edge before he pulls a chair from under the kitchen table over and settles into it, his fingernails lightly scratching against your thighs before he parts them and buries his face into your sex.
Your head tips back and you bite your bottom lip as the doppel explores the sensitive pink flesh, enthusiastically swirling his tongue over the folds and your clit before pushing inside you. The hands curled around your thighs are changing, the nails digging in no longer the replicated human’s. The tongue violating your canal seems to lengthen, expanding. You’re afraid to see and yet you want to watch, your fingers burrowing into his hair. Bloodshot eyes, the doppel’s easing through, yellow tinged, pupils now sharp, narrow, a flash of teeth before his mouth shifts impossibly wide, more than a human jaw could ever accommodate, sucking at your clit while still fucking you with his tongue. A monster is ravaging your body and your only thought is MORE. The wedge of muscle curves inside you, tapping in staccato movements against the shallow secluded shelf of hidden pleasure and it sends you over the edge immediately, keening and shaking as he continues sucking and stabbing until you can’t stand it anymore, your legs trying to close, the hand that had been pulling him against your pussy now trying to push him away.
He finally surrenders, mouth parting reluctantly from your sex. You’re on fire, every nerve tingling in your extremities, at your center, where the pulse is strongest. A satisfied grin, a flash of sharp teeth aligned in a row, before the imposter milkman stands, kicking the chair back so hard it knocks over. His fingers sink into your hair and he jerks your head back, grabbing one of your hands and pressing it over the bump in his trousers. You fumble the fly open, dragging his needy erection through the flap of his briefs. It’s large and hot and your hands seem too small, too delicate to stroke that engorged organ properly.
“Milk it. Make me cum.” His lips hover before your own. You wonder why he hasn’t kissed you on the mouth yet. Would those razor slivers of bone slice you to ribbons? The morphed tongue strokes the angle of your jaw. Your hand is working in harsh, jerky movements. Clumsy. You’re panting with fear and desire. You can’t reach his mouth at this angle so your lips find his throat instead, the patch of skin just above the fastened work shirt and knotted bowtie. He growls and bellows as your fingers finally, finally seem to have adapated, smoothing a gush of precum over the sensitive crown. Large as it was, his prick still felt human enough, so perhaps it was the same, or perhaps he still had yet to reveal its true nature. A moan now hummed against your throat, this soft and pleading noise the polar opposite of the menancing sound he’d emitted moments before. Teeth scrape your neck. The veins in his cock bulge against your hand. He’s so swollen, so ready to erupt. Fangs begin to dig into your flesh. Only a pair. He’s shifted appearances again, protecting you somewhat. You wonder how much of a struggle it is to keep it in check, during the height of something like this. The teeth descend further and you feel the suction as he pulls your blood into his mouth just as a hot spill of seed bathes your hand. He leans forward and your free hand reaches back to brace yourself, sending the milk bottle onto its side, mirroring the white flood that now coats your skin. He sucks and it aches and it feels like a second orgasm building inside of you.
At last, at last he draws back, and it is a human’s face you see, with shadow smudged eyes and mussed hair and swollen lips. The urge to kiss him flares anew but he backs away. You’re suddenly aware of the dairy product that’s spread across the counter, sinking into your clothes, spilling over the edge and dripping onto the floor. The doppel rights the chair he’d tipped over earlier. Clothes are straightened into some semblance of order.
You’re normally relieved when he departs. Today you find yourself clutching his sleeve as he reaches for the doorknob. Something has happened between you two, besides the obvious. A new kind of intimacy blossoming, satisfying other, more primal needs. Adapting and evolving like the doppel had said, perhaps.
“I’ll see you soon.” Not tomorrow. He’s already told you that. An anemic blood supply will not satisfy him. You’re more lightheaded than you’re letting on. He’s taken so much already, but you still want to give him more. “Soon,” he repeats. Then he’s gone.
***
In the dream, you’re in your bed, trying to achieve a slumber that won’t come. You toss and turn restlessly. Get a glass of water. Use the restroom. Flip your pillow over to the cooler side. Shift the covers. It’s no use. You can’t sleep.
You’re thinking about the doppelganger.
About that smile, that warm breath and wicked mouth and wet tongue. His body pressing against yours. Tasting you. Cumming in your hand. The vampiric kisses. It should be terrifying, knowing he holds your life in his hands, your fate determined by the whim of an alien creature.
The replicant is back.
You sense him before he even taps on the glass of the French doors that lead from you bedroom into a private garden area in the back yard. You recognize that shape behind the gauzy curtains that shield the glass, flinging back the comforter and sliding out of bed. The cool air wafts over you as you open the door. You’re only wearing a thin nightgown. You shouldn’t be dressed like this in front of him. You shouldn’t be doing any of the things you’ve been doing with him.
His palm settles warm against the side of your neck. His mouth touches yours for the first time.
Heat pools in your sex. He tastes like metal, copper heavy on your tongue. There is the flavor of tart wine and something smokey as your body is pressed down onto the bed. Your fingers siphon through his hair. You can feel his erection again, demanding somewhere near your own groin. His hips cant slightly and you both moan softly.
The hem of your nightgown is slid up the length of your thigh. You can feel the sharp points of the claws that tear your panties from your body, a casual display that leaves you gasping. A faint jingle of a belt moving and the whine of the metal teeth of a zipper parting and then his cock is shoved into your slickened entrance.
The tongue that twines around yours feels foreign now, the doppel revealing more of his true form. Long and thick, like the prick that’s invading your pussy. Your brain in its dream state has no sense of shame. There is nothing but desire, hot and wet. The front of your nightgown is sliced through, the fabric easily parting beneath the sharp claws that have replaced human nails. Your breasts are kneaded as the sound of lewd slapping fills the air, wet noises from your joined mouths, from the cock pounding into your dripping cunt. Had he been hungry? You’d been starving, you realize. Craving this. Undeniably wrong but oh so right.
“Bite me.” In your waking state, you’d never issued such a request. Only in dreams could you be bold enough. Your fingers clutch the nape of his neck, encouraging him as your knees dig into his ribs. You gift him your blood and he gifts you a load of something thicker, creamier, milky shots of cum spurting deep inside of you. There are stars in front of your eyes, fireworks, bursting lights in the darkness. He kisses your mouth and the tang of your own lifeforce is strong there. His teeth are still sharp. He hasn’t changed back. You kiss him again anyway.
***
Your eyes open.
It’s raining. You can hear the soft patter of it against the roofing shingles above. Your heart is hammering wildly. Your entire body is drenched in sweat, your panties soaked with something more carnal. You fling back the sheet and blanket much as you had in the dream, padding barefoot into the adjoining bathroom. You need a shower. You feel soiled.
You wish the events of the dream had really happened.
It’s been five days since you’ve seen the doppelganger. The water of the shower spills over you, pelting you gently. You drag the bar of soap over your body. There is something thick and wet between your legs, the fluids of your arousal a different kind of wetness than the spray of water. Your clit is swollen. You wish for his fingers, his tongue. You circle the raised bundle until your body trembles, until you’re forced to lean against the shower wall for support.
You shut off the faucet and towel yourself dry before pulling on a clean nightgown. You burrow your face into your pillow and think of the mimic’s smile until sleep reclaims you once more.
***
A week has passed. Now you think something must be wrong. The doppelganger’s delayed absence can’t be intentional.
Perhaps the DDD had gotten to him. Someone had seen something, called. Maybe not all his ‘donors’ were quite as willing as yourself. A hot flame builds inside you. You are jealous, after all.
It’s raining on the night he finally returns. Later than he has ever been. The water has soaked his skin, his clothing. There is only the living room lamp on to illuminate your view of the alien creature, looking so pitiful standing there, a drenched figure with tired eyes and dark hair plastered flat against his head, the rainwater spilling over the sharp angles of his cheeks and nose, over the gentle curves of his lips.
He steps inside and closes the door. Your breathing is harsh, rapid. A match for his own. “Where have you been?”
“Did you miss me?”
You bite the inside of your cheek. His voice drags against you skin like velvet. “No.”
“Liar.”
You reach for each other at the same time. Your fingers knot into the saturated fabric of his work shirt while his close over your upper arm, crowding you back against the door. “Where have you been?” You repeat again, your voice gentler this time. “I thought the DDD had gotten to you, I…”
“You were worried about me.”
“Yes,” you admit reluctantly.
“You missed me.”
“Yes.”
His thumb briefly strokes one cheek. “I missed you, too.”
“Why don’t you ever kiss me?”
“I do. Quite a lot, in fact. In many places,” he adds, smirking a little, some of his customary teasing emerging.
“You know what I mean. On the mouth.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.
“Because,” he says, and for a moment you think he won’t answer you properly again, dodging the question, but then he continues, “that means something very, very different.”
“Different how?”
“Do you want me to show you?”
“Yes.”
The doppel’s lips press against yours. Closed at first. Then they divide and your tongue darts between them, granting you your first taste of the invader. Nothing like the dream. No bitterness or metal or sour flavor. No smoke or ash. Just clean, pure, natural.
“Do you understand now?” His gaze traps yours. Human pupils dilating. You know what really lurks beneath. You like both.
“No. Show me again.”
A faint smirk. Then the doppelganger’s mouth captures yours once more.
reblog if your name isn't Amanda.
2,121,566 people are not Amanda and counting!
We’ll find you Amanda.
this has almost 11 million notes what is this
I’ve never seen this post once in 10 years on this site
@hellsite-hall-of-fame
I’ve never even heard of this before tho??? Wtf??????????
oh my god, I didn’t think there were any surviving versions of this post left
For those who weren’t around in the Deep Lore times, this is one of the relics of the editable post era. This post has THE SINGLE HIGHEST NOTES of ANY post on this site, bar none, but with more than a dozen variations. Every single post you’ve ever seen with more than 3 million notes has been a different version of this one.
This is the “Dean’s Gym Shorts” post. This is the Flubber post. This is the original “Reblog if you support gay people” post. it was ALL of them. before half the site got nuked, it had even more notes than it has now - at one point, well over 15 million, and that was years ago.
This, with no exaggeration, is the ONE TRUE heritage post
Rolan x Reader
↬ Warnings: afab!reader, oral and fingering (f!receiving), cumming untouched (Rolan), sub!Rolan. MDNI!
The noises filling the room are positively obscene. A cacophony of curses and moans fill the air, both from you and from the Master of Ramazith’s Tower – whose face is currently buried between your thighs, lying comfortably atop the lush comforter of his bed, one hand holding one of your thighs to keep it spread open, the other fucking you with two skillful fingers as his tongue lavishes attention on your clit.
Although your relationship with Rolan wasn’t new, the sexual escapades of the relationship were, so the two of you were still discovering turn-ons and kinks of one another’s. But gods, was he a quick learner. This was the first time he’d ravished you with his mouth, and it only took one or two pointers for him to have your entire body glistening with sweat, practically screaming as he brought you to climax for a second time.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you had the sense to be pleasantly surprised at how much Rolan seemed to be enjoying himself. Every groan and moan that fell from his lips caused your body to twitch and jerk from the vibrations of it against your clit, and the few times you glanced down at him, he seemed to be grinding his hips into the mattress. The fact that he was getting off on eating you out was enough to send you hurtling toward the edge of your second climax, one hand grabbing a fistful of his hair in a firm grip, the other grabbing one of his beautiful horns and pulling him even closer to your quivering cunt.
“Gods, Rolan! So good, my love, you’re doing so good. You’re so good – fuck!”
You came with another strangled cry of his name, barely registering the sound of whimpering preceding a few murmurs of your name. Still feeling as though you're floating, you feel Rolan retreat from between your legs, and move upwards on the bed to rest his head on your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck. Once your breathing steadied, you tapped the top of his head, and he mirrored the lopsided smile you wore when he looked up at you.
“May I return the favor?” you asked, voice breathless but sultry.
“Oh, that’s not – that’s not necessary,” Rolan quickly answered, and you could swear he turned a few shades of red darker.
“I know it’s not necessary, but I want to,” you noted, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Your fingertips brushing over the shell and point of his ear sent a shiver through him. “But if you aren’t comfortable with that –”
“No, no, darling, it’s not that,” he hurriedly explained, then let out an awkward, dry laugh. “I am, um…. I have enjoyed myself a sufficient amount already.”
With furrowed brows, you opened your mouth to ask him to clarify, when you realized the groin area of his robes felt slightly damp where it pressed against your leg. Rolan expected you to tease him, or comfort him in a way that would only make him feel belittled. Instead, a wicked grin spread across your face, and he became the one with furrowed brows.
You ran your fingertip over the point and sides of his ear again, following it down his jawline, before hooking a finger under his chin to tilt his head upwards.
“Do I taste that good, my pretty wizard?” you purred, and Rolan’s eyes fluttered shut, a shaky exhale leaving his lips. “Or was it me telling you how good you were to me? Or, perhaps, me pulling on your pretty horns and pretty hair?"
“Yes,” he breathed, too lost in the feeling of your other hand carding through his hair before tracing circles on his back.
“Yes to which, sweetheart? Use your words.”
“All of it.”
“Good boy,” you praised, and Rolan let out the faintest groan.
You hummed amusedly, leaning down to kiss him – much too quickly for his liking, as he chased after you for more. You stopped him with a finger to his lips, and stated, “Don’t be greedy.”
Nobel Blood
Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff and Smut with Plot, Penetrate sex, Tail rubbing?, Desk sex, Cream pie.
Summary: High society has never been your thing, and now your having to go to the Raven Ball...Maybe you will see a familiar face trying to conduct himself in a new landscape...
A/N: This might be completely self indulgent...but I liked it...
Word Count: 7,370 (I got carried away...)
“What about this one? What do you think?”
Rolan appears from behind his changing screen in a new blue jacket with silver embroidery and buttons. The collar and cuffs are lined with silver. His pants are black and a bit tighter to his body than he is accustomed to. The boots he’s wearing are shining and new. Giving himself a once-over in the mirror in his room, he turns around, holding out his arms.
“Be honest… Thoughts?”
A very bored-looking Cal is lying on Rolan's bed. He turns his head, looks at his brother, and gives him a once-over.
“Like I told you about the four other outfits… You look fine. Please just pick one!”
Rolan scoffs, “Cal, this is important. I have to look my best to make a good first impression. There will be a lot of important people there today. This could lead to some great opportunities.”
Cal looks at Rolan, a bit worried, “Rolan, you are putting a lot of pressure on yourself. Just go and relax, maybe meet someone, make friends. You know, have fun!”
Rolan rolls his eyes as he does his hair in his usual tight, twisted bun, “I’m not going to waste the opportunity to have fun!”
Once he had finished with his hair, he adjusted his collar before turning to have Cal assess him once more. When he turned, he saw the prominent frown on Cal's face. He sighs, “Cal, you know how people look at us. This is a chance to change people's perceptions.”
“The right people, you don't have to change their perceptions…”
The room is quiet, and a silent understanding fills the space. The silence is cut by Lia busting through the doors of the master bedroom. Looking at them like they have lost their minds.
“What are you two doing? Rolan, stop fussing and get going! You get invited to a ball and waste your time primping!”
Rolan sighs as Lia dusts off his shoulders and places his invite in his jacket pocket. Pausing, she looks at his hair and starts to pull and loosen his usual style, making it softer looking with some strains to frame his face and the tips of his ears poking out a bit more,
“What the hells Lia! My hair was fine!”
“No, you always wear it so tight you want it looser, rugged.”
“I’m going for cool and collect.”
“Yeah, but ladies like a bit of ruggedness.”
Rolan swats away her hands and starts to leave,
“I'm not going there to get a date!”
Lia huffs at his leaving figure, “Hopeless…”
Cal looks over at Lia, “Any chance he’s going to loosen up and have a good time tonight.”
Lia takes a moment to ponder the question, “If the right person talks to him.”
-KAW!-
The sudden noise tries to break you from your slumber, but only briefly before you lol back to your dreams…magic hands…a soft warmth…a husky whisper…
-KAW KAW!-
The dream is ripped from you as your eyes are popped open; on pure instinct, you reach for your knife under your pillow, but as you look towards the noise, you pause.
The Falcon blinks and tilts its head at you, curiously fidgeting and hopping closer to you. You pull your hand away from the blade and sigh at the familiar bird, “Hello, Rune. Do you have something for me?”
Rune turns, revealing a message carrier just like you expected, “Clever bird,”
Reaching over you, you scratch her neck while you retrieve the message from the red tube. The tube has an emblem very familiar to you: a golden long sword with vines and two golden roses by the sword's hilt. The paper is thick and white, wrapped with a red ribbon. Unwrapping it, you see the fancy script, and it clicks to you what is happening.
“An invitation for the Raven Ball…and I'm guessing they are hoping for me to attend?”
Rune kaws in what seems to be agreement; you nod at her.
“Well, I guess I should head that way… she's bound to be waiting for me.”
Walking up to the massive mansion lined with guards and littered with candles. The entryway is opened for the invited to shuffle in and out of the party. Just deep breaths, smile, and be pleasant…have grace, and don’t throw punches to the face; saying the rhyme in your head brings back fond memories, and you have to stifle a laugh breaking from your throat. One of your two companions notices you hiding a smirk; he notices everything, and it never fails to drive you crazy.
“Nervous Darling?” Astarion smirks, his red eyes observing you as if he could read your mind.
“Nope, are you?” You challenge.
Astarion fakes a laugh and smiles, showing his long fangs flashing in the candlelight. “Never”
Typical…
Walking through the entrance is like walking through time; these balls have always been the same. The host and the house may change, but the overcrowded rooms are filled with the rich and self-important. Deep breaths… keep taking deep breaths….
Arriving at the main hall of the home with Astarion and Shadowheart in tow, you pause with them as they marvel at the grand space. It truly is a beautiful event. Servers glide around the room with their pristine trays, serving fine wines to everyone; Astarion is quick to grab himself a glass as they walk past. The center of the room is filled with people clapping and turning, floating along to the music. Shadowheart keeps her green eyes scanning the dance floor; she is looking for someone in particular…it is the only reason she decided on attending this ball, along with your pleading. Moving your eyes around the space, the candles light the room brightly and make the gilded arches and decor glimmer in an almost magic shine. Knowing how these people love theatrics, they probably had wizards put on some spells for the grandeur of it all.
Turning to your friends, you see they are entirely taken in by the atmosphere, though when Astarion meets your eyes, he plays his wonderment off as if this is nothing to him. As they continue to stroll about, you continue to fuss around with your dress, the corset's tightness starting to irritate you, and the flowing skirt and sleeves feeling like they're going to wrap around your legs and trip you. You curse under your breath as you have a small battle with the dress picked out for you.
“Dress issues?” Astarion teases
You roll your eyes, and you adjust the bodice up, but you find the action is in vain as your cleavage is still on full display. It's been years, and it makes sense the dress wouldn’t lay the same, but the high golden necklace always sat tight on your neck, forcing you to keep your head up, the exposedness of your chest and shoulders always made your cheeks flush, and the tight bodice lined with gold down to your hips always made your breath short. You did like the ruffled white skirt with the red front panel and the matching red sleeves that go from bust to cascade down your arms; it did look nice. But the part you constantly fidget with for comfort is the emblem at the center of your sweetheart neckline. It's that same one it's always been, a golden longsword with two golden roses…
“Just…adjusting…” you smirk back to hide your irritation.
“These corsets are murder but do wonders for the figure at least?” Shadowheart chimes in
Her silvery white hair contrasted beautifully with her lilac silk dress. The fabric looks like it drapes and flows effortlessly off her polling elegantly at the bottom, and as she moves, it reveals a long slit over her right leg. For a dress she picked out today, it looks like it could have been custom-made for her. She had fussed about the dress and her hair, wearing it in a different style than usual, but you assured her she looked terrific and would catch the eye of a certain soon-to-be duke…
Astarion places reassuring hands on yours and her shoulders. “Well, the dresses are definitely an improvement from the drab, caked-up with, grime outfits I had grown accustomed to seeing you in.”
You both look at each other before looking at him unamused. “Thanks, Astarion…” you say in unison, not completely happy that he pointed out your dirty states on the journey you all met on.
“Anytime Darlings~”
Shadowheart’s eyes go back to the dancefloor, and you think for a moment that you see her getting on her tiptoes (despite being in heels) to look over some heads.
“I think I might stroll around the room…see if I can find any…interesting company.”
You and Astarion look at each other, knowing what she truly means; translation: Shadowheart is going to look for Wyll. They are such an opposite duo, but they are just drawn to one another. Astarion always teases the names Shadow Princess and the Horned Prince when talking about them and their longing for each other.
Shadowheart turns to see your smirking faces and she rolls her eyes before walking off. Good luck you silently wish for her…
You watch as she makes her way through the crowd, a part of you wants to go with her to help navigate the space but you know she wants privacy for this and you don’t blame her. While you watch the floor a familiar sensation of red eyes and a fiendish smirk being placed in your direction makes you shudder. Looking up at him you see a very well-dressed Astarion looking like a vision in all black except for the wine-colored small jacket and gold and ruby necklaces hanging from his neck. When you asked about the jewels he just chuckled and left a quick poke on your nose, a way to irritate you and avoid your questions. He continues to stare and smile at the devious thoughts running rampant in his mind.
“Yes?”
Astarion looks away with a slight laugh, “Oh, nothing nothing…just curious if you were going to go look for anyone special tonight. Any fine suitors on the line for you to turn about with?”
When asked only one person flashes in your mind, but you shake it off not wanting to get your hopes too high. He would probably find something like this a waste of time.
“No, I’m planning a rather dull evening of just watching the grander, saying hi to familiar faces. No suitors eager for my hand. You?”
Astarion looks around the room piercing his lips, “I might also be having a rather drab evening…nothing seems to catch my eye, which is too bad I was in the mood to make some trouble.”
A slight laugh escapes your throat and Astarion looks at you with a raised brow, “Something funny?”
“Well, I just think you have changed a lot since a certain bear tagged along…come to think of it you just came back from the old shadow lands and are planning to go back…”
Astrion narrows his eyes at you and you grin widely knowing he’s smitten.
“Very clever…well, I will leave you to it, going to go find some more wine and maybe go rub elbows with some important-looking people…”
“Play nice Astarion!”
“No promises! Ta Ta!”
With both your friends gone you're now alone in the ballroom and now it definitely feels like old times. Memories of your childhood flash through your mind as you watch. In your memory it's a younger you, biting her lip in disdain and fumbling with her dress, head sore with the elaborate braids that were decorated with trinkets and jewels. The biggest thing you remember? The feeling so isolated and unwelcomed by people meant to be your peers. You can recall two gentle hands placed on your shoulders as people just passed you by…
Shaking off the memories you look at the huddles of people near the walls engaged in conversations, “Well, better go say hi to mom and dad…” Gathering up your skirt and taking another deep breath you go on the prowl.
It was overwhelming and Rolan had to stand to the side to recollect himself. It turns out that coming to socialize with people from the upper city was a lot more difficult than he initially expected. He was starting to wonder why the hell he came here. Yes, he had been formally invited but the people didn’t seem to know who he was or they were staring at him and whispering amongst themselves. Was this all a joke…was he just a thing to be stared at and mocked for the night's entertainment?
Looking down at his crimson hands and long nails…his tail twists around his leg as he balls his hands into tight fists. He shouldn’t have come here, he didn’t belong. Cal and Lia had been so excited about his invitation and were eager to help him get ready with high hopes of him growing his name to the city's lords and ladies. He had promised to make friends and get them invited to the next ball, but now that seems like a silly fantasy.
Unraveling his tail and holding his head up, he decides to leave until a familiar figure catches his eye. Astarion? The pale elf has his red eyes on Rolan while keeping a smug smile on his face, instead of waving or greeting him; however, Rolan's thoughts trail to something, someone else. Scanning the room he’s hoping to catch the sight of a particular hero…
“If it isn't the Archmage of Ramaziths Tower, I figured you would see these parties as a waste of time.”
Rolan's body immediately tenses and he turns around quickly, You smile for having spooked him. You watch as his shining eyes widen as they trail over you, his lips slightly parted and you think you hear his tail fall to the ground. From his reaction alone you're suddenly no longer lamenting having to wear the dress and in fact decide to stand a bit straighter. Once he realizes he’s staring he averts his gaze from your chest and neck, clearing his throat.
“Tav, what…why?”
“What? Not happy to see me?
“I- no…I mean I am! Well not happy, I mean I am happy but not super happy, but a surprised happy! Uh…pleasantly surprised….”
His eyes meet yours and winces at himself, understanding how these parties can whine someone up you decide to ease the tension. Giggling at his rambling you gently punch his shoulder breaking the awkwardness threatening to set in. The force of the punch causes him to stumble and smile.
“It’s good to see you, but I’m a little shocked. I figured these parties would be far too stuffy for such a great adventuring hero of the gate.”
You shrug looking out to the party where you see Astrion watching you two, you give him a look of ‘what?’ and he shakes his head with a smirk and walks away. You turn back to Rolan,
“Actually I’m pretty used to these stuffy parties.”
Rolan’s brows furrow as he looks down at you confused, you do the same as you look up at him, and then it clicks.
“Rolan, I’m from Baldur's Gate. I grew up having to go to these parties and having to take etiquette classes. My mother is a countess, from a long line of nobility and my father is a general for a regiment of the city's army.”
Rolan's eyes widen as you nonchalantly explain your past, “Your… a lady from an important house of Baldur's Gate…and you were out slumming it in the wild? Wielding swords and blowing up goblin camps?”
Thinking for a second you nod “Yeah, my dad used to take me camping and taught me how to fight. Mom wanted me to be a proper socialite but I didn't exactly fit in… Once I got older they told me I could go travel the swords coast, get the wildness out of me before finding a suitor, ya know?”
Rolan shakes his head with a smile, “So you left all of this to adventure and ended up getting a tadpole in your head. That inevitably leads you back here…”
“Hey, I had adventures before that! But I will say that one was my favorite.”
Rolan smirks and looks down at you, “Because it made you a hero?”
You look up at him, his gentle gaze and soft loose strands of hair cascading around his horns making your heart flutter, “Because I got to make friends, and meet you.”
Rolan's face gets slightly darker as he thinks of something to say. With him tongue-tied you take the opportunity to tease him more by sticking your tongue at him. He rolls his eyes and turns away, you swear you see the tips of his ears a light hue of marron now.
“Why are you here? And are Cal and Lia with you? I miss them and their tormenting of you.” You continued to tease. Though you see Rolan’s face slightly drop.
“Well…I was the only one to receive an invitation and I didn’t realize I could bring anyone…I wish I would have, with them around I wouldn’t feel so…” Rolan shakes his head as if to shake away his thought, “I came here to meet people to get them interested in the tower's knowledge and to show that I am a worthy archmage. But I haven’t been able to talk to anyone “
Your heart sinks as you listen to Rolan, you remember having to go there alone at times…Rolan is always trying so hard for his family, it's quite honorable of him and one of the things that drew you to him. Thinking for a moment you try to think of a plan before it hits suddenly, “Rolan I can get you a formal introduction to someone who is very important and that I know would like to hear about the tower.”
Rolan’s face lights up, “I would, I would be so grateful.”
Smiling you wrap your arm around Rolan’s elbow, a part of you thought that he would recoil but he seems to welcome the gesture by straightening his posture and tightening up his arm. Your hand creases his bicep and it takes every part of you not to start teasing him about his surprisingly muscular form. Act like a proper socialite, for Rolan’s sake.
As you two stroll about the floor you keep your eyes peeled. Though you do see some people staring at you and Rolan as you walk arm in arm, you figure people are just wanting to gawk at the hero and the new archmage.
“Seems like we are popular sights tonight.”
Rolan hums, “I think you are the popular sight, I’m probably more of the skeptical…”
“Specktical?”
Looking over to meet your eyes Rolan just gently squeezes your hand, “Never mind, uh, so who are we looking for?”
“Her.”
Pointing out your finger you lead Rolan’s eyes to a group of women fanning themselves as they scan their eyes like hawks around the room. They are all dressed immaculately and as the two of you approach they keep their eyes locked on you both. One of the women quickly whispers to a taller woman, the taller woman turns and Rolan has to hold back his gasp.
She looks like you…well an older version but still stunning. Rolan feels his throat instantly dry and when he looks over to you with a panicked expression, he admittedly comprehends what's happening and he’s never felt so unprepared in his life. Feeling him tense you keep a soft smile and gently rub small circles on his hand, trying to ensure he’s calm when meeting your mother.
In front of the intimidating woman (he sees where you get it now) you release yourself from his arm and give a curtsy. Rolan follows your lead and gives a bow.
“Countess, I would like to formally introduce you to Archmage Rolan, Master of Ramaziths Tower. Rolan, this is the Countess, also known as my mother.”
You feel your cheeks grow red, you're introducing a man to your mother…you never thought this would be happening, it’s very proper of you. Looking up at her face you see a soft smile, for her that’s practically beaming. So far so good.
“I heard about the last master's passing…” she says casually. You and Rolan exchanged a glance before she continued “Can’t say I wasn’t fond of the news, he was always a poor representation of the tower. A bit of a cad.”
Rolan’s jaw practically drops and you are quick to continue the conversation for him while he recollects himself,
“Well, I will have to tell you Rolan is quite proficient in magic, self-taught and self-disciplined. He plans on studying and cataloging the tomes in the tower to then share the knowledge with the realms.” You praise
“That's quite the honorable aspiration for a young man. I am sure everyone would be quite pleased to have access to its knowledge. I have been to your tower once before in my youth, the smell of the weave in the air and the majesty of all the books still leaves me with pleasant memories.”
Meaning: ‘Invite me over to see the tower again because ladies do not invite themselves places’. You're not a bit surprised your mother is taking a fast liking to Rolan, he has a title, is respectable, and usually can hold his own in a conversation but today he seems to keep getting tongue-tied, we’ll chop that up to nerves. With a subtle nudge to his arm, you break him out of his daze where he can give her a proper answer.
“Well, th-thank you. I think everyone should have access to knowledge if they want it. Also, you and Tav should join me at the tower for tea. I will have to prepare a bit but I would be delighted to have you two there.”
Two of her ladies-in-waiting mutter something to each other earning them a prompt glare from the Countess. They quickly scurry away.
“I would be delighted to just name the date. Plus I would love to hear about how you two met, knowing my daughter that story will be filled with twists and turns.”
Rolan giggles and you look at your mom in shock as she openly teases you. You have never seen her be so casual with a stranger, well for her this is casual. You can’t help but feel a warmth in your chest, you never were one to crave approval from anyone but it does feel nice when your Mother seems to improve the boy you like.
“I will have you know I handled myself with dignity and grace-“
“I watched her punch someone in the face for defending my kind, it was a lasting impression, a good one,” Rolan says with a laugh and causes your mother to let out a giggle -that woman never giggles!
“Well I will have to forgive her for that, sounds like that punch was well deserved.” Your mother looks at you and you see a softness in her eyes “My tough girl.”
The moment is soft before your mother changes the subject. Ladies must keep the conversation flowing after all.
“Now Tav, why don’t you introduce Master Rolan to your father? I’m sure he would love to meet him.”
With a curtsy and a bow, you two make your way to find your father.
“Never seen you so proper…” Rolan leans down to whisper in your ears, you have to fight the tingling that threatens to show on your skin. Nothing quick like his mockery so close to you.
You take Rolan's arm so he’s leading you through the room, “Never seen you so tongue-tied…” you mock back.
“She's intimidating… I see where you get it from…”
“You should see when she doesn’t like someone, that’s intimidating.”
“Any warnings about your father? Or do you plan to surprise me again?”
“Oh but you do look so cute lost for words, I didn’t know wizards had that capability.” you coo back now blatantly flirting, very unladylike. The scandal…
Feeling bold Rolan tightens his grip on your arm where you can feel his nails against your skin, it is mind-numbing this sudden game. “And I didn't know how ravishing you look in a dress so tightly wound to you.”
The sudden boldness of his words makes you pause, and your cheeks redden. Rolan nervously clears his throat unsure if he overstepped… he brings his eyes up for a distraction and lucky for him he finds one.
“Tav look”, Following his gesture to the dance floor you see a heartwarming sight that distracts your thrumming heart. Wyll spins around the dance floor holding Shadowheart close to his body and he leads her through the dance. They look like a vision together, everyone seems to pause and look at them as they command the space with little effort.
It's while you're watching them you feel a warm hand wrapping around your own. Looking up to its source you see Rolans gleaming eyes on yours taking you in slowly. You swear it’s a secret spell of his to become out of breath and feel sparks when you look at him. The feeling rushes through your veins like it has since you first met him at the grove and all the moments after. Rolan's lips part gracing you with a quick view of his sharp teeth till suddenly you feel yourself being grabbed and thrown into the air.
“And! There is my wayward daughter! Our righteous hero graced us with her presents! Ha Haaa!”
The voice is loud and booming as the large arms wrap around you forcing your body into the air before crashing you back down to your heeled feet. Your father, as bostress as ever and completely uncaring for these parties 'etiquettes’ as always. In a lot of ways, the apple did not fall from the tree.
Taking a moment he scans over you, it's been far too long since you saw him, and from how you ramble and rave at each other it shows. Then his eyes start to scan around you till they are meeting with Rolans, and your father smiles like a Cheshire cat.
“Ah, and I see the rumors are true. You have a gentleman escort this evening.”
“Actually I have two others but one is dancing with the Duke's son while the other is bound to be causing trouble.”
“Trading in for different companies.” His eyes go to Rolan and you see him tease over your father's gaze, “Now to see if this man was worth it.”
“Well, he is a wizard…” Your eyes go to Rolan and you two are now assessing him
“Meet plenty of spellcasters,”
You continue, “Archmage of Ramiths tower…he got the areca artillery working in the battle saving my and my friends' necks.
“The Fire Rainer!” Your father yells, making Rolan and nearby people jump.
Before Rolan can properly process what is happening your Father is grabbing his hand in a crushing grip that Rolan returns.
“My men, We were all in awe of your work getting those dusty turrets to work. And for helping my Tav. Good man.” he continues to shake Rolan's hand for a long moment before letting go and placing a hand on your shoulder.
“He’s good company to keep, strong grip and with fire in his eyes.”
You look at Rolan giving him a nod of a good job before your father is turning to both of you. With a wide grin.
“Now! Rolan, if you walk around with my daughter you must ask her for a dance!”
Rolan stutters over his words as you look at your father like he’s lost his mind.
“Dad, You can’t make him dance.”
“Why not? He wishes to be near you; he must dance with you.”
The words make you flush as you avoid Rolan's eyes, “He’s not the dancing type…”
This causes Rolan to lift a brow, then you feel Rolan’s warm hands on yours leading you suddenly towards the dance floor. In a swift flourish, Rolan spins you and grasps his hand in yours, placing the other on your hip and smirking at your shocked expression…
“Looks like he is!” your father calls barely audible through the music.
The transition to the dance is effortless as you two glide across the floor. Watching his glimmering eyes on yours is spurring your heart into a rush. Your body feels like it’s on fire as he effortlessly glides you through turns and claps. Eyes never leaving one another.
“I didn’t know you knew how to dance?”
Rolan scoffs, “Of course, I know how to dance, you don’t think I haven’t gone to parties before?”
lifting a brow, you look at him with an unamused expression, “OK, I might have practiced…”
You laugh and let him spin you out, then catching your hand and pulling you back to him. His hands in yours, your back flushed to his chest. The dance is completely intertwining, his scent, his warmth, the purring of his chuckling laugh. You want more, your hope is for this dance to never end so you can stay in his arms.
With a twist and a sway of your hips, you smile at him as the blush rushes to his speckled cheeks, a reminder that you are experienced at these dances and you will not hesitate to spice up the moves if it means rubbing against him. It makes his heart thum as he turns you around again, his tail wrapping slightly around your dress as he steps with you till plunging you down to a dip.
A perfect dance partner, finally.
You two stay locked within each other's snare, a small feeling of leaning forward towards each other causing your mouth to water in anticipation of a kiss. Then breaking you two from the moment is roaring applause that fills the room. He lets you rise, and you two join the applause of the musicians as well.
A normal socialite would worry if people could tell how much you liked him. You don’t care, however, Rolan is magnificent, and you would scream it at the top of your lungs, but you know this is his chance to impress rich bastards and prove himself worthy of his new illustrious Title. Of course, the right people already know this, he doesn’t need to impress them.
As you look to the crowd to make your way to your dad to give him sass (and maybe a pat on the back for making that happen for you) you see Rolan Pointing to the front part of the dance floor, music starting to swell up again and your father and mother swaying to the song. Another set of perfectly matched dance partners.
Offering his elbow to you again, you curtsy at Rolan's gesture and let him lead you off the floor. A perfect gentleman, If your mother is watching she is beaming with pride (though she will talk to you about that hip swaying later). Off the floor, your dry throat hits you,
“ I'm going to get a drink, do you want anything?”
“Oh I can-“
“Rolan I can grab drinks, I’m still a hero of the Gate, not a delicate flower.” You tease him.
“A glass of wine sounds great then,”
“I will be a quick second, wait here” With that you gather your skirt and shuffle away. Both of you trying to hide your dorky grins for one another.
Then a stray voice catches Rolan off guard, “Dancing with a noble…but don’t forget you're just hellspawn trash…”
Roland’s eyes widen, and he turns around quickly, but he is met with nothing but a crowd of people wrapped in their own world. One that some are not willing to invite him to. He watches them so clearly, trying not to stare, others staring, and sharing whispers. Then his eyes meet yours.
Golden eyes that you can always catch in any crowd. They shine his brilliance and never fail to make your heartbeat rush. Anyone would be lucky to have him look their way and right now that’s you, drinks in hand, you pick up your speed to get to him faster, but then his starburst eyes shut in something that resembles pain and then he’s gone…Rushing out of the room away from you.
Pausing you watch him leave, your heart sinking to your stomach. Swallowing down the feeling you place the cups on the nearest waiter's tray and run after him.
The hallways are dark as you follow after him. It only gets darker and darker, till you see him dipping into a side room, shutting the door behind him. It takes a bit of self-control on your part, not to rip the door off its hinges as you open it, but the site makes you slow down.
His tail twisted tightly to his leg, hands in his hair, and talking quickly in infernal. Gently you close the door behind you, and with a click lock giving you two privacy in the dark office. Rolan's shoulders tense at the sound of the lock, he can’t bear to look and see your disappointment. You carefully approach as he braces his hands down on the desk. His body so tight you think he will snap two.
“Rolan, wh-what happened?”
Turning his head, his golden eyes shine through the darkness. And they see you perfectly. Face contorted in worry as you gently approach. Your face is the one he knows, the one he saw shining in the sunlight of the Grove, the face that saved him from shadows in the cursed land, the one who held his bruised face so gently promising Lorroakan would never hurt him again… the hero of the gate…his hero.
Then his eyes tail down, his Tav, the hero, dressed in the finest fabrics, a lady of Noble Birth, someone too good for someone like him.
In your eyes, you see him for what he truly is, a strong dreamer, someone who you would walk through the Hells for. A man so dedicated to the ones he loves, you want to love and care for him till your last breath.
“I don’t belong here…I am a joke…a monster for everyone to gawk at.” He finally confesses.
Your eyes grow wide and all you feel is anger, “Did someone say something to you…do something?! Who? I swear I will-“
Before you can, march back into the ballroom and demand reconciliation with blood, you feel warmth wrapping around your shoulders and around your ankle. Rolan's warmth envelops you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. Clinging to his forearms you lean into him letting yourself calm.
“You're better than any of them…” you whisper
“Is that what you think?” he mutters in response
“Rolan it’s what I know, you're extraordinary.”
Rolan’s arms tighten around you making you never want to leave his caress, but you still turn to look at him. placing a hand on his face, he’s perfect in your eyes…
“We are different…” he almost pouts
“I like our differences.”
Rolan’s hands slip down to your waist.
“Won’t they slander you, and your family's name?”
“Not the people who matter to me…” your words like a promise
You lean into him rising to your toes to be only a touch away from his lips. You feel his breath fan across yours, and a rush of desire floods your body and mind.
“They will say I tainted you…” his hands caressing your face so gently
“They can go fuck themselves”
The smile you two share is perfect, right before he presses his lips to yours. His lips caressed yours, setting your body a flame, his nails digging into the sides of your dress, and as you felt their points, you gasped and let him trail his lips sloppily on your jaw to your neck. Your mind melted at every rush of his lips, becoming more breathless as the pleasure of this moment crashed over you then pooling into an aching need in your lower stomach. All the blood and the thoughts rush to your swelling bud, leaving your mind in a haze of lust.
Rolan’s tongue licks down at your clavicle while his hands move to cup your breast. You can’t help but shake as he presses kisses and sucks marks to the tops of them. Rolan’s lips find yours again in hunger this time as his tongue seeks to taste more of you. Eargery you met his passion with your own tasting, his wine-laced tongue burning against yours. Undoing the buttons of his jacket you strip it off him in a rush. Once it’s off and tossed to the floor he breaks the kiss and whimpers against your lips, his chest vibrating under your fingertips in a purr.
Turning you quickly, your thighs meet the side of the desk as his lips continue to caress your neck, removing your necklace to nip on your most sensitive spots, all you can do is moan and chant a series of ‘yeses’ and sweet mews of his name. He hums as he spoils himself, touching all over your form.
“More, Rolan…I want to feel more,” your pant
“Here?” The question is raspy and sends shivers through you to your sex.
“Yes.”
Rolan responds by peppering kisses all over you as he quickly gathers your skirt around your hips. Bending over you feel your face burn as you hear is breath hitch,
“F-fuck…” he whispers
You're already bare opting for no underwear, a destination you made on a meer whim but are happy with now. A whimper escapes him as he views you slick and puffy cunt for him, in a deep dialect he mutters something you can not understand that causes your slit to quiver. he no longer has patience his want takes control and you hear his frantic hands undoing his belt.
The moment is eager and full of hunger, the want between you two building to this moment of passion. Rolan has your skirts gathered in a fist as he pushes his burning erection through you making your head spin. The moment is raw and hungry as he hisses from your walls so tight and soft around him, fuck, nobody told him how…soft humans were…
The feeling of the stretch is eye-watering as a lewd moan erupts from your throat, then the feeling of every ridge sliding and reshaping your velvet insides. The curve of his cock brings his sharp tip to find your sensitive spot, nudging and coating it in his burning precum, your toes curl in your heels as your vision blurs, tightening your grip on the oak desk. It's hot, intense, and the best pleasure you have ever felt.
Rolan whimpers and moans as he pushes into your heat further. His face comes down to bury himself into your neck grunting in what sounds more like a whine. Sweat is sheening both of you now in this heated moment your only reprieve of coolness is his panting breath on your neck. Then his hand comes down to yours bracing you and he intervenes his fingers with yours before he gives a final thrust, his blazing tip now nudging on the deepest parts of you. Your slit is taut and your insides flutter against him as you get accustomed to his rigged girth.
“Gods, you feel amazing. Practically sucking me in…” his rich voice rasps into your ear making you shudder.
Taking a second to breathe in the scent of your sweaty neck and your cascading hair; further getting drunk off you. He rolls his hips back, and the drag of his ridges on your gummy walls is an unimaginable pleasure making you arch in a scream to your god.
Pulling to the tip it’s only a second of emptiness before his hips are snapping back into you forcing all the air from your lungs. Continuing to thrust into you back and forth at a constant pace, you mew and grip his hand so tightly. Your arousal drips down his cock and your thighs as it's fucked out of you, desperate to coat his cock.
“Their mighty hero…sweating and dripping for me. You're my girl…you have always been…”
You can’t even think coherent thoughts only able to respond by arching your back further. The room is drowned in your cock drunk moans and his deep growling as your pussy continues to get ravished by him. Hot waves start to build up in your stomach leaving tingles in their wake as you approach your ecstasy. Rolan feels your trembling against his cock making him angle it in deeper. He’s right in his sentiment…you are his…as he is yours…the bond you share led to this moment of passion—the ultimate satisfaction of the want you have for each other.
It's bliss and you rock your hips to meet his thrust, a chuckle escapes him before you feel the rough dragging being rewarded to your clit. It's warm and soft with lines of ridges dragging against you. It only dawns on you as you feel its spaded tip you realize he’s grinding his tail against your sticky sex. Both sensations make spots blur your vision as drool begins to pool in your agape mouth.
In a silent scream, your orgasm crashes over you as all your essences coats him dripping down to fall on his boots and pooling to the floor. Rolan guides you through your high not stopping his thrust while your sex desperately grips him. A ring of creamy arousal forms where you both connect. The sight and feel of your overstimulated pussy fluttering is enough to cause his hips to still and his cock to throb shooting blissfully hot cum in thick spurts, filling you to the brim. The growl is guttural and vibrates through him as he comes down from his high.
Rolan presses his forehead to your shoulder blades as he stays within you for a moment longer letting his ridges smooth as his cock softens till finally pulling out. You can feel the mix of both releases leaking down your legs uncomfortably resisting the urge to beg him to finger it back in.
“Wait one moment,” he says quickly with a soothing rub to your waist as you hear him digging around for his discarded jacket.
Then very gently you feel a soft cotton cloth whipping you down to clean you. Soft ‘shhs’ and coos leave his lips and he is careful over your spet sex. He takes his time, then once you're cleaned and your dress is back down you face his back as he cleans himself, looking over his shoulder with a smile as he retucks himself. Leaning back against the desk you relish in watching him rebutton himself up so elegantly.
His golden eyes stay on you as he gently caresses your sweaty face. Before he leaves he will snap his figures with a spell to clean you two of any lewd residue, but for now, he wants to relish your afterglow. You two stay in silent bliss and his eyes roam over your face, your fingers gently playing with the loose strains of his hair. He’s the first to speak up,
“I want to court you properly.”
Your eyes grow wide, and so does your smile, your heart racing, and sparks burst into your stomach.
“If you were planning to court me, we have already messed up. You're not supposed to have sex beforehand.”
“I don’t care; I’m not of noble blood, so I will do this my way.” there's that confidence.
Rolan pulls you in for a slow kiss that causes your heart to flip and your head to cloud in a pleasant fog.
“Good,” you whisper
Rolan backs up slightly and bows, causing you to giggle as he reaches for your hand. Placing your hand in his, you gently squeeze it as he brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly like a suitor would any proper lady.
manibus adhuc mollior.
In celebration of 100 followers.
Pairing: AFAB!Tav/Rolan
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, canon-typical depictions of gore and violence, angst. 18+, Minors DNI.
Word Count: 2,861. Read it on AO3.
The admittance of their feelings for one another had been agonizingly unceremonious; hurried, teary murmurs – quiet and resigned, as if to admit such a thing was to sentence the other to death. There was little time for grandstanding or lavish gestures, the Elderbrain visible in the sky, half the city in ruins. If he had had it his way, he would have courted her properly, he would have wined and dined her. Stargazing and stolen kisses and the slow thaw of their hearts behind their sternums.
It seemed that lately, not much of anything ever went his way.
He kissed her, then, and it felt more like a farewell than anything else. Firm and solid, a silent plea for her to come back to him. To not make their first be their last. Please, Tav, just this once, try not to get yourself killed. Please. He had half of a thought, selfish and unbidden, to ask her to stay. To set aside the heroics, to choose him over saving the world.
But that wasn’t possible. This had always been her fight, and it would be her that saw it to its bitter conclusion, whatever that may be.
The waiting feels like agony; an ache in his sternum that he has not felt since the Shadowlands when he was waiting to see if Tav came back with Cal and Lia. Hungry, feasting upon premature grief, a blossoming sorrow here before its season. He has no reason to be distraught – she may come back to him in one piece yet, a savior, bright and beautiful and brave. He’ll tend to her wounds and she’ll let out that stilted, relieved laugh that she so often does; the one where it cuts off into a choked, strangled sort of sob. And he’ll hold her. And they’ll have forever at their fingertips, a yawning expanse of possibility far larger than even that of the Weave.
Or she’ll die, and he will once again learn to navigate the dying embers of loss.
Hours blur into one another, and he finds himself restless. Pacing the library of the tower, suddenly so terribly unsure of how to take up space. He tries reading, but he cannot bring the words into focus sharply enough to comprehend them. He tries sleeping, but every time he closes his eyes he is haunted by images of her body, spattered with crimson, arms bent at odd angles, eyes lifeless and hollow.
He settles for waiting on the ground floor, salves and elixirs on standby for her return. He will take care of her. He will prove that he, too, can be gentle. And he will never take her for granted ever again, he swears it.
All plans of being a doting savior go out the window when she shows up to the tower. Her hair is matted with grime and viscera, her hands shake ever-so-slightly, and he’s certain it is the first time he’s ever seen her so visibly shaken. He assumes that it’s because of the fight, that the very foundations of her being have shifted from such a profound battle – she saved thousands of people, she is, by all accounts, a hero. Surely that is not a title won without hardships.
But she’s pulling him into her arms hurriedly, burying her face in the crook of his neck as though he is the last thing keeping her grounded on this plane. And her voice trembles as she breathes against his skin, “I wasn’t sure – Gods above, I thought that I might have lost you.”
“You were worried about me?” He winds his arms around her and holds her firmly. For once he cannot find a biting remark, a scathing retort; she is here, and she is alive, and he’s never been one for religion, but he is thanking every pantheon known to man in this moment. “You were the one out saving the world, Tav. I was worried sick about you.”
“You? Worrying?” She pulls away from him to look him in the eye, her gaze something bright sparkling beneath the blood and the dirt. Her lips tilt up into a lopsided grin. “I never would have guessed that the revered Master of Ramazith’s Tower would be so prone to something as mundane as feelings.”
“Yes, well, you have a remarkable knack for making me act rather out of character.” His hand comes up to cup her cheek, thumb smoothing over a nick on her skin, his voice far, far softer than he thinks he has ever allowed it to be.
He would move the heavens for her if she asked him to.
They stay like that for a long moment, with her leaning into his touch and an unspoken understanding hanging between them. Words are wholly insufficient here; Common does not hold the syllables required to articulate the relief that weighs in his chest.
“Are you hurt?” He asks quietly after a while.
“Nothing that Shadowheart couldn’t heal.” She murmurs in response. “Just some bruises and cuts here and there. I’m fine, Rolan, I’m here. You can stop worrying. I came back to you.”
“You came back to me.”
“I promised you I would, didn’t I?” She smiles, soft around the edges.
“So you did.” A quiet chuckle bubbles up from the back of his throat. The moment feels charged in a way that he cannot quite place; thick and heavy and suffocating. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that the gloss to his vision is from tears, not weariness.
She kisses him.
It isn’t nearly as frantic and demanding as their first – shared in the tense moments before conflict, a demand for more to come. It is gentle, as she so often is; it feels much like coming home. Warm and relaxed, a promise of sorts. He meets it with equal tenderness, his eyes fluttering shut, a breath he did not know he was holding let out into the soft press of her mouth. His tail wraps around her waist as if of its own volition, staking a quiet claim. Alive. Mine. Together.
She pulls away for a moment, her breathing a little heavier, ghosting against his face; she’s still millimeters away, looking up at him through her lashes, and he silently files the image for later.
“You should get cleaned up.” He whispers.
“I should.” She agrees, but then her lips are on his again – hungrier, this time, as if searching for proof that this moment is real; that she survived, that he is flesh and blood before her. Her hands curl loosely into the front of his robes, and he pulls her closer, one hand finding purchase on the space between her shoulder blades, the other tangling in her hair.
He cannot be bothered to care about the blood – it’s nothing that a simple cast of prestidigitation cannot fix. He focuses on the shift of her ribs with every breath that she takes in, revels in the rise and fall of her chest where it is pressed against him. The feeling of her tucked into his arms, of her kiss, is far headier a blend than any glass of Arabellan Dry.
Alive.
She’s fumbling with the ties of his robes, and he remembers himself – where they are, the ash-choked air that seeps in through the cracks at the bottom of the front doors. The smell of flame hanging heavy around them.
“Tav,” He rasps, pulling away and sucking in a breath. “We shouldn’t – not here.”
“Why not?” Her hands pause their movements, and his protestations nearly go by the wayside when he sees how utterly debauched she looks in this moment; her lips spit-slick and flush, her pupils blown and eating away at the soft color of her irises. “This is your home, I thought we’d established that?”
“I know, I just – I would really rather not have our first time be me pressing you against a desk like some depraved animal.”
He’s thought about what it would be like to have her plenty of times now; what she would look like tangled in the soft silk of his sheets, her hair splayed out around her like a halo, her eyes screwed shut as he disassembled her piece by piece. Put her back together again. He would take her time with her, he would be reverential, he would show her the gratitude that he failed to in the past.
“You’re a wizard.” She laughs, warm and husky, and the sound goes straight to his stomach. Pools there, cements itself. He feels ungentlemanly in the way his blood is rather quickly rushing southwards. “Can’t you just… conjure up a bed or something?”
“I could,” He muses, but decides that such a gesture would be wholly insufficient in displaying his adoration for her. “But we have time. Let us go upstairs.”
The only magic he allows himself is a quietly uttered cantrip to clean the viscera from the both of them. He is all nerves as he closes the door of his bedroom behind them, suddenly feeling much more like a bumbling, awkward virgin than a prodigy of any kind. And she, always perceptive, picks up on the unease immediately. She settles herself onto the edge of his bed and beckons him to come sit beside her.
His lips do not leave hers this time as they undress quietly; he is far easier a task than she is – armor is really rather difficult to remove, even more so when all logical thought has gone out the window and every ounce of blood in your body is focused between your thighs.
When he does pull away to catch his breath, he’s afforded the opportunity to drink her in in all her glory. Bare and breathless before him, her skin a canvas littered with freckles, with cuts, with bruises. Some old and scarred, cigarette-paper thin reminders of the hardships she’s faced. Others new, likely from the ferocity of the fight today, scabbed over and tender still.
She is the most stunning creature he has ever laid his eyes on.
She looks apprehensive before him, suddenly a being of profound shyness, and he works to soothe that insecurity immediately; gently, he guides her to lay down on the mattress, and his lips find the soft slope of her neck. She sighs, soft and sweet, and a hand comes to his shoulders, fingers brushing over the leathery flesh of one of his vestigial wings. So sensitive, so unused to touch, he hisses out a breath between his teeth, sensation crackling through him – electric and bright and sharp.
“Sorry.” She murmurs at the sound.
“You hardly need to apologize. I rather like it when you touch me.”
That seems to encourage her; she grows a little bolder, hands skirting over his skin – down his back, the meat of his flanks, the just of his hipbones. Touches every ridge and dip – and there are plenty – with a level of reverence he had never even considered he could be regarded with.
Her nails graze over the base of his tail, and he has half a mind to be embarrassed by the sound that the action pulls from him; high and needy, his hips rolling against her thigh. She seems to gather some sort of satisfaction from that, because she repeats it, and he has to busy his mouth with other pursuits to keep the last scraps of his composure. He traces a path down her body, open-mouthed kisses against every bruise, every cut; this is not intimacy, this is worship – this is him posturing before her, heart split wide open, vivisection on full display; the edges of him ragged and weeping, hers to feast from as she pleases.
He comes down to the soft expanse of her thighs, and her hands on him still, her breath hitching in anticipation. He looks up at her with heavily-lidded eyes as he kisses his way up them; a press of teeth here, a touch of tongue there. One her hands slides into his hair, fingers shaking as she gently grasps the strands – not hard enough to pull, but gentle enough to ground herself.
“May I taste you, Tav?” He rasps, the words rumbling in his chest, his voice hoarse.
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she nods, her other hand grasping loosely into the sheets beneath her. He leans in and presses a kiss to her mound before flattening his tongue and licking a stripe up her slit. She keens, and the fingers tangled into his hair curl around one of his horns, gently tugging him closer.
He takes her apart slowly, his tongue against her clit, his fingers curled inside of her. She’s a babbling mess, one hand fisted in the sheets, her hips bucking up into the contact. He uses the forearm of his free hand to hold her down gently, each movement laced with heavy deliberation – making mental notes of every sharp inhale, every ragged breath, every whimper.
He sucks against her clit, and she falls apart without warning. Her head tilts back in a silent cry, her hand clawing against the base of his horn, unsure of whether to pull him against her or push him away. He slowly works her through it, looking up at her as he does – she’s beautiful here, flushed cheeks and heaving breath, white-knuckle grip against the sheets.
He makes his way back up her body as she comes down, crashing his lips unceremoniously against hers. A jolt goes through him when she moans into his mouth at the taste of herself on his tongue, one of her hands resting on the nape of his neck, the other on his shoulder.
“Fuck me.” She breathes out against his lips, hoarse and needy. “Please.”
“Yes.” He pants, and one of his hands comes down to spread her open, the other lining himself up with her. She hooks her leg over his shoulder, and he sinks into her – slow, they have time, he has to remind himself. All they have now is time, he supposes.
He lets out a choked sound as he bottoms out, one of his hands landing beside her to steady himself. He’s sure he’s a sight, hair falling in his face, having come loose from its tie at some point in the beginning of them kissing. His cheeks flushed, his lips parted, eyes screwed shut.
“Rolan.” She manages, breathy and thin, her nails digging into his shoulders. He would do anything to hear his name in her voice like this time and time again; drunk on it, lost in it, drowning.
The time for tenderness has passed. He is reduced to a thing of desperation, the need to let himself have this – to prove that this is real, that she is real – overrides all coherent thought. He rolls his hips against her, no longer having the wherewithal to have shame for the sounds he makes. They blur together anyways; the soft pitch of her moaning, the breath of his groans.
“Fuck, Tav.” His free hand comes down between her legs, the pads of two callused fingertips finding her clit. “Want you to come for me again. Please.”
“C-can’t –“ She tries, her voice breaking.
“You can. You will.” He presses a little more firmly, circles a little tighter. The movement of his hips has become a stilted thing, rhythm quickly leaving him as he nears his own peak. “Please, love. Let me have it, let me feel you.”
Her breath hitches and her muscles tense, and then she lets out a choked, sharp sound that sounds more like a sob than anything else. He falls apart with her, his hips stuttering, his nails digging into the sheets. He has a moment to settle himself next to her before his strength gives out, and his gaze is hazy as he looks up at the ceiling, his chest heaving with the effort of his breath.
“I love you.” She breathes out into the stillness of the room, tucking herself against him, her cheek resting against his chest.
It somehow feels more monumental than the sex, this proclamation – they’d disclosed feelings, yes, but that word, the heaviness of it, had not been uttered by either of them. It feels insufficient, to summarize the ache in his chest that he holds for her with a single word.
And yet, at the same time, it feels like it is the only one that is correct.
“I love you too, Tav.” He presses his lips to the crown of her head, his arms wrapping around her, holding her close. “Please don’t go rushing into danger again. I rather like this.”
“The sex?” She asks with a tired laugh, her lips splitting into a grin.
“Not just that.” He rolls his eyes at her, his usual snark replaced by something far more boneless, something with far less teeth. “You, in general. Being with you.”
The sincerity of it makes her stop, and she regards him with a softness that makes his stomach twist into knots. “I promise I won’t go anywhere this time, Rolan. I promise.”
And he, probably foolishly, believes her.
Some warm-up sketches
i am completely enraptured with this gif
T. yes i assume so
H. helps you better understand the world
I. inspired you to post a stupid kindergarten image
N. honesty is important so yes
K. complimented the penguin
Seeking Advice
Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff and Smut with Plot, Oral (fem receiving), Cum eating, Horn pulling?.
Summary: Asking out your crush can be difficult, Maybe you should seek advice from your friends on how to ask out your favorite wizard?
A/N: Look...I've been playing a lot of Baldur's Gate 3. Then this guy yelled at me and I fell. I have a thing for grumpy guys what can I say. Now do not worry! I still am writing for ATSV, TASM!Peter and my love Miguel, just I think I can squeeze the bg3 fandom on my blog. Trust I have plans for for all my fictional men. Plus I am working on request! Just had to get this story out, it was rotting my brain. Hope you enjoy it! Its kinda cheesy but its what I like, sorry.
Word Count: 6,957
The energy to the tavern is a welcomed one, All the noise you might have found irritating at a time is now a pleasant chime to your ears. How things can so easily change with time. Since becoming the city's hero many things have changed for you and your friends. The city is back to its wondrous glory. Finally, your life is starting to calm down, well for the most part…
There is no longer a squirming in your head and the threats to the world's damnation are at the time eased, things should be perfect, and you should be happy riding an inexplicable high. You are happy for the most part, however there is just one thing that is causing you trouble now. It's the ache that swirls within you that only grows when you see him, the now master of Ramazith’s Tower, Rolan.
The first time you felt it, it was simply a spark, harmless. It didn’t turn into this thrumming storm until the grove celebration after you defeated the goblin camp, and where he taught you his light spell. That night your fate was sealed, now as your friendship has grown you feel those glittering sparks storming through you more often.
With a sigh, you rest your hazy head in your palm as you watch him with his siblings. The amber lights of Elfsong make his crimson skin appear as if it's glowing, he looks good in any lighting with his striking features but at this moment he looks damn near ethereal. You're acutely aware that you are staring at the trio, but in your buzzed haze from four wine goblets, you can not bring yourself to care. People are properly catching you staring like a lovesick fool; you will move your eyes eventually, you just want to watch for a bit longer.
Rolan's journey to the city was different than yours but it was not without its hurdles, then when he got here he had to be met with the cruelty of Lorroakan. You won’t lie, you felt immense pleasure watching his spine get cracked in two for what he had done. Now with that horror over, the scars have faded and you see that Rolan is better, happier. He smiles just a bit wider and his eyes shine just a tad bit brighter. It only makes sense that the Tower and Sundries have become more successful with his influence, though you know he’s just happy that his family is now together and safe.
Blindly you bring the metal goblet to your lips and taste the tang of the red wine nursing you through your pinning. The drink was meant to boost your confidence to go over there and shoot your shot for a date, but it only makes your head cloud into hopeless romantics. Why can’t you just ask him out? You can take on a horde of knols but you can’t bring yourself to confess to the guy you like? Doesn't get more pathetic than that…
Your eyes stay fixed on Rolan as he smirks and rolls his eyes at what Cal is saying, his clawed hand grabs his goblet and you watch as he brings the drink to his lips. Feeling looser from drinking you see as the red wine slightly escapes the side of his lips as he chugs the drink down. The deep red rolls down his jaw and you have to bite your lip from the thoughts that erupt in your mind.
“Darling, you have got to stop staring.”
With a sigh, you turn your head to your pale companion with a devilish smile on his face. With a roll to your eyes, you take another drink of your wine trying your best to play unbothered by Astarion as you can.
“I wasn’t staring”
“Tav, let's not be coy, you haven’t moved your eyes from a particular wizard since he strolled in. Sighing and squeezing your thighs together like that's going to help your ache.”
The mentioning of the actions you thought were unnoticed makes your face blush from embarrassment. Asterion can only laugh at your fluster features as you look around the crowded tavern to see hints if others have noticed.
“I- wasn’t, you don’t-”
“Don’t be embarrassed, you could pick far worse. He’s a bit pompous for my taste, but the innocent little freckles on his face are pretty intriguing.”
Astarion gives you a smirk as you whip your head to face him giving him a look of ‘back off’, though he is hardly intimated by you.
“Relax, I am not going to take a bite out of your favorite wizard. I will leave that pleasure for you, however some advice, you won’t get him from just staring.”
You hate to admit it but Astarion might have a point, you have been wanting to confess your feelings you just don’t know how. Looking at Rolan you rake your mind with your past chances to open yourself up but always seem to back out at the last moment, his rejecting you would be painful but being in this limbo is excruciating. You have to get your feelings off your chest for some inner peace.
“Okay, Astarion…what's your advice?”
Astarion's smile spreads to his lips and he sits next to you quickly, “My suggestion is you make it your mission to get that Rolan in your sheets, my dear. You obviously have had trouble getting your…” Astarion grimaces “Feelings for him out, so why not go the seductive approach?”
You let out a laugh but Astarion just keeps his face neutral, “You think, I should seduce him? How am I supposed to do that?”
“Simple, give him an offer he can’t refuse.”
“Yeah like what?”
Astarion looks over at Rolan, seeming to think before his face lights up, he quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder moving your chin to face Rolan. Then he whispers in your ear, “You're going to go over to him, very calmly…place your hand on his shoulder and whisper in his ear very sweetly that you want to lick every ridge on his body.”
Your mouth goes dry and eyes go wide at the thought…running your tongue…down…his… You blush feeling your face grow hot, so hot you think it could be radiating off you.
“A-Astarion…I-I can’t do that…”
“Oh, but picture it, once you're done he will be so spent he will be the one confessing to you.”
An image of a panting Rolan looking down at you with a fist full of your hair sparks in your mind. Hells, maybe Astarion has a point…he has had plenty of experience seducing people, but you? The thought only makes it so you can’t even move. Astartion picks up on your dazed state and with a nudge he pops you from it.
“Lucky for you there's a creature in here I have had my eyes on, so just watch and learn,”
“Wait, you like someone?” You say it a bit shocked,
Astarion gives you a look, “Focus on your own love life, huh?”
With that, you say quite as you watch Astarion's ruby eyes land on a particularly pretty patron. With a smirk, he grabs your goblet keeping his eyes fixed on them like a predator studying its prey. Quickly downing your drink he releases a cool and steady breath then makes his approach. He practically glides across the room to them, very carefully he starts the conversation with a smile and you can already tell the person is interested. Do they know each other?
In What seems like a quick second he is placing his hand on their shoulder and leaning down to their ear. You can only imagine what he must be saying to have their faces fluster so quickly. Nobody quite had a way with words like him. Astarion leans back up to meet their eyes where they are feverishly nodding.
With that, he starts guiding them to the exit while turning back towards you to smirk. Well, looks like it's your turn…
Picking up your goblet you see he did finish it, okay next step. Standing you feel all the alcohol you consumed immediately go to your head, deep breath, then go. Making your way over you try to not stumble into people as you push to your destination. Keeping your eyes on Rolan you rehearse the lines in your head over and over, as you get closer.
Rolan almost like he can sense it then flicks his eyes to you, watching as you approach. Swallowing to ease your dry throat as you continue to make your way over still keeping your nerves despite your stomach being in knots. Then his lips curl into a slight smile and you freeze…shit…looking down at your hands reality hits you suddenly, you're drunk and about to proposition him, you can’t do this…he is just going to dismiss you… the thought makes your chest ache and the feeling of your drink coming back up.
Looking back at him he tilts his head looking at you concerned smile fading and that's when the fear of rejection rushes you. Opening your mouth you go to say anything, maybe smile at him something to mask your panic but it fails. Your lips tremble and before you know it you're rushing to the exit.
Finding the exit you look back to Rolan, he’s up from his table and seems to be trying to make his way toward you, he looks completely confused and maybe…hurt. You can’t do this…not when you're drunk and on the verge of puking.
With that, you're pushing out of the tavern and running off into the cool night of the city. As you're running past one of the city's allies you catch in your peripherals Astarion with that person pinned against the wall as he kisses against their neck leaving them moaning into his hand. You must have caught his attention from your running, he looks at your fleeing figure and calls out to you.
“I guess it didn’t go well?”
You don’t bother to give him a response, his advice might have worked for him but you're going to have to try a different tactic.
Note to self, do not try to drunkenly ask out your crushes, it only ends in you making an ass out of yourself and puking up all your stomach contents. Thinking back on it you can only think back on the look on Rolan's face…the confusion…the disappointment…Maybe you should go talk to him? You don’t want him to think that you're trying to ignore him. You were drunk and didn’t want to spill your guts all over him. Feeling freshly invigorated you decide that you should apologize for running off. Who knows maybe the conversion could lead to something.
Arriving at Sorcerous Sundries you're not even fully sure if he would even be there, the tower might have been the better bet. However, your guess is shown to be a good one when you see Rolan placing some tomes on the shelves. Gods, you could watch him work for hours…his dexterous hands placing everything so carefully. As you watch you think you almost see his tail wag before he’s fixing it down. The smile it causes to your face can’t be helped, though he is always so composed he still slips at times.
As you watch Rolan work you have the oddest sensation come over you that you too are being watched. Turning your head you jerk back slightly in surprise seeing that Lae’zel’s yellow eyes are piercing into you with her trademark intensity. It’s quite odd that she is in here, she's not one for spells but as you're looking past her you see that Shadowheart is with her thumbing through a tome. That makes more sense, you're happy those two have become better friends. Especially since they did try and kill each other.
Smiling you give Lae’zel a smile with a wave, she only narrows her eyes more at you as you move to go talk to Rolan. Approaching his tall figure you're taking in every inch of him.
He's beautiful, from face to physique, you watch as the muscles from underneath his robes flex from his movements. It’s funny wizards are not known for their strong builds but Rolan's arms and back are a dead giveaway to his hidden strength. Looking up you trace down the length of his horns to where they disappear into his soft chestnut hair, twisted in that half-up style. You wonder if you two get closer in the way you hope he will let you play with his hair, it appears so tantalizing and soft…everything about him is tantalizing…
In your approach your mind is running through a quick daydream of running your fingers along his horns and through his hair; it causes you not to pay attention to where you are stepping. With the perfect explanation for the night at Elfsong in your mind, you're ready to smooth things over with him. Just as you're reaching out you suddenly see Rolan's shoulders shoot up teasing like something just hit him. Confused you lean forward more but that's when you feel it, something is wiggling under your foot.
Looking down you see that your boot is crushing his poor tail underneath your weight. Mortified, you quickly step off of it. Karlach had told you how sensitive her tail was when she yelped when someone sat on it, so having it crushed underneath a boot sure is not a great feeling. Rolan's back stays teased as he turns slowly, his tail swiftly moving away from you to go to his hands. His eyes look as if he could thunder wave you out of the building.
“I-I am so sorry Rolan, I- I didn’t see your tail.” you ramble out as quickly as possible
“How do you not see the appendage handed down from my-!” Rolan stops his yelling and takes a breath, his hands tightening on his tail. There is now a mark from where you stepped and you feel even worse.
“Here let me-” Reaching out for his tail you are quickly stopped by Rolan holding up his hand and shaking his head. Rolan tail in hands starts walking away mumbling a language you don’t know.
“I’m sorry!” You call out to his fleeing figure as he ascends the stairs.
Running your hands down your face, your intentions of apologizing to him for Elfsong completely disappear as you make yourself look like a complete ass again to him. Looking through your fingers you see that not only is Lae’zel still staring at you but now Shadowheart has joined her in watching your screw-up. You make your way over to them with your head down silently standing with them as Shadowheart keeps at her browsing.
After a couple of moments, you see Rolan coming back down to the shop, his eyes meet yours. A part of you thinks you should go back over to him and apologize but you don’t want to annoy him further so you give him an apologetic wave. Rolan just huffs slightly with a nod before turning his back to you to get back to work. Leaning against the shelved wall you let out a long sigh.
“What am I going to do…”
“You mean about your crush on the new master of the tower?”
You turn your head to stare at Shadowheart for her comment but she doesn’t even bother lifting her eyes away from the spines of the tomes.
“How…what…”
Lae’zel cuts in “Your lusting is obvious, sighing with your head in the sky with your pathetic pinning,” -wow ouch…
A stray giggle leaves Shadowheart and you're quick to narrow your eyes at her as she bites her lip to silence herself. Crossing your arms you look back at Lae’zel
“I am probably going to regret this, but Lae’zel what is your advice? How should I go about asking Rolan out then?”
The question is intriguing enough to make Shadowheart put her tome down and look at Lae’zel as well. Lae’zel rolls her eyes for a second before folding her arms and moving her fierce gaze to where Rolan is now helping out a customer. Lae’zel eyes narrow at him, sizing him up as she studies him before she turns back to you with a huff.
“I would not ask, I would grab that teeth-ling by the horns and command him to do as I say.” The direct advice makes Shadowheart burst into laughter drawing attention from people near you, though you can’t seem to meet their eyes because you're too busy giving Lae’zel a confused look.
“I don’t think that would work with him…”
“Tis’k, you do not know this unless you try. Now go grab him by the tail and mount him forming a flesh bond with your desired.”
You're staring at Lae’zel gobsmacked while Shadowheart practically rolls on the floor with laughter.
“Lae’zel! I can’t just mount him!” you whisper yell at her.
“I don’t know, she might have something to the direct approach” Shadowheart soothes
You glare at her “Oh you're done laughing on the floor?” She smirks with a shrug, absolutely no help.
“Fine, I will gather him for you.” -what?
Lae’zel starts going towards Rolan but you are quick to grab her and drag her out. As the puzzled patrons watch you carry out the githyanki fighter cussing you in her native tongue with Shadowheart trailing behind you, smirk on her face. You try to rush out as quickly as you can mortified that Rolan might be seeing the display.
Once outside you put her down with an apology, Shadowheart quickly places a hand on Lae’zel’s shoulder to prevent her from cutting off your head. “Why not try talking to the guys for advice? Maybe they can give you the male perspective on things.” Shadowheart offers.
Thinking for a moment you find that she might have a point, it might help to ask the guys for some advice.
Piercing your lips you study the smiling wizard in front of you waiting for your question.
“Actually Gale I don’t know if I should ask you for advice on this.”
Gale's face changes from a smile into hurt then moves to irritation, “Wh- and why not?” he practically huffs.
“Because the last time you tried to get a person to like you you ended up with a bomb in your chest.”
“Magic orb…” he mutters while Wyll laughs, nearly choking on his wine.
“Okay, Tav what advice are you needing? We can try our best to help aid you.” Wyll smooths out the tension of the room.
“Well…the thing is I need some advice on asking someone out. I figured our most intelligent and most charismatic party members would have some great advice.”
Wyll and Gale look at each other like they can detect each other's thoughts before they turn back to you “You're talking about asking out Rolan aren't you?”
You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at the duo, “Who told you I was coming?”
“Astarion and Shadowheart, they sang like canaries. Told us about your ...Mishaps” Gale says somewhat sing-songy.
Sure he might have gotten a bomb in his chest but at least he got some for the goddess… And Wyll Mr. Prince Charming, half the girls in the city who were in love with him and his fancy footwork. Hopefully, they will have some good advice. You watch as the two men start pacing along rubbing their chins deep in thought. You appreciate they are taking this so seriously for your sake.
“So have you at least tried? Asking him out? I know you two are pals but have you ever eluded to it.”
You give Wyll an unamused look “Yeah I tried, but then something horrid goes wrong, I’m either stepping on his tail or about to puke.”
Wyll nods trying to understand, “Maybe you could try to do an action, like an impromptu dance at the tavern between friends? The music is plentiful, and as you two sway along the music you can tell him with your eyes.”
You watch as Wyll mimics the swaying of a dance keeping intense eye contact with you, but Gale comes behind him and places a hand on his shoulder stopping him. “Don’t think that will work with Rolan, he's….kinda dense…”
Gale then lights up with the idea, “Why not ask him for some magic lessons? He can show you the ways of the weave and as you two flow through it, you can send him your thoughts.”
You think for a moment, you have had him teach you magic before but…that was at the grove…and things were different. You hold that memory when he taught you his trick dear and you're about to agree to it. But you stop…if Rolan rejects you during that…it would ruin that spell for you forever…
“Yeah…he's a strict teacher…can we think of something else…Something that can explain how I feel but I don’t have to choke over the words too.”
Gale and Wyll sit and think for a minute, then Wyll is snapping his fingers with an idea, “Why don’t you write him a letter!”
You look at Wyll a bit skeptical, “A letter?”
“Now that's the way to a wizard's heart, through the written word. Grand idea Wyll! Plus that helps with your shyness you can just hand him the letter! No conversion required!” Gale praises.
You think for a moment, writing isn’t exactly your thing but it might be your only option left. Plus you're sure Gale and Wyll will help you through it! With a nod, you give them the okay and Gale is already conjuring up some paper and quill. They sit themselves on both sides of you and help you get through your thoughts. You thought it would be best to keep some more private feelings to yourself. They both seemed to be rather…really into letter writing, Gale helped fill the letter with praise of Rolan's grandeur with magic. While Wyll helps you spruce it up with flourishes about how your heart dances for him. It turned out a bit cheesy but Wyll and Gale seemed to have a good time. Maybe they should start a poetry club?
Letter in hand you pace outside the shop, the letter was a great idea when Gale and Wyll were helping you write it but now… Now that you're here to give it to Rolan you're finding that familiar nervousness is eating away at you again. Peeking through the door you see that Rolan isn’t in the shop. It just seems to be his hologram today…Perfect! Now all you have to do is place it on the front desk for him to find later. That way if he isn’t into it you won’t have to meet his rejection immediately. The thought of Rolan looking at the letter and frowning pops into your mind, but you shake it off. Just place it down…easy…
“Tav! Hey!”
Pausing you Turn around and see Karlach running towards you waving with a huge smile on her face. This is not good… It's not that you don’t want to see Karlach, she is amazing and you two have become incredibly close. The reason that this isn’t good is that Karlach isn’t exactly…subtle… Karlach is a complete badass but when it comes to love and romance she is a complete softie gushing about it to everyone. Wyll had told her about a crush of his one time and she had gushed about the story to anyone who would listen. It’s truly sweet that she loves love so much and gushes about her friends' conquest, but you're trying to be subtle here, placing the letter then leaving quickly, if Karlach finds out about it she's going to give you being here away.
“Hello soldier, what are you doing loitering around Sundries? Waiting for someone?”
“Oh, no no…I just have this letter to give Rolan.”
“Oh! What's it about?”
“Just some questions about…spells…and curses…if he can detect the traces of the magical…What are you doing?” you quickly change the subject not being able to think of a good lie.
“I was just at the Forge of the Nine catching up with Dammon, I had found some good iron ingots and wanted to give them to him, he could use them more than me anyways…” -oh Karlach you cutie
Karlach looks into sundries and appears to be looking around a bit, her smile slowly dies away before she turns back to you, “Well, I think you're out of luck soldier, Rolan doesn't seem to be around.”
You shrug trying to seem as unfazed as possible, “That's fine, I will just leave it on the front desk.”
“Or you could give it to-”
“No! No the desk will work, I mean…it’s important but he will find it.” you quickly interject.
Karlach looks at you somewhat confused before she shrugs with a smile and follows you in. Finally, through the doorway, you quickly make your way to the desk and you feel…good! Finally one of your plans is going to work and you have Gales and Wyll's advice to thank! Maybe if this all goes well you will treat them to a drink at Elfsong. You will finally get your feelings off your chest, sure…it’s not exactly how you envisioned, but all the other attempts failed, this is easy and mess-free.
Right as you reach the desk, something tells you to look up. Looking up you see Rolan descending the stairs wrapped up in whatever tome he is reading. He hasn’t seemed to notice you however so maybe you can just drop the letter and run-
“Hey Rolan! What udder luck, Tav has a letter for you!” -shit
Rolan looks away from his tome, eyes seeming to widen when he sees you and Karlach. You feel all the blood rush to your face as his eyes meet yours, you can’t quite tell if he is pleased to see you or not, kinda of appears to be…annoyed…or surprised? Damn that handsome studious face!
Your hands tighten on the letter, you go to quickly place it on the desk and rush out but in the blink of an eye, the letter is out of your hand. Instead of it being in your hand or on the desk it's in Karlach’s hand as she is going towards the stairs…to Rolan…going to hand it to him! Oh, hells!
Rushing over to her you quickly snatch the letter from her hand. Karlach seems taken aback by your action, “Hey? What the fuck?”
Karlach tries to take the letter back after you rudely snatched it. “Tav isn’t this for him?”
“Uh…Yeah, but I changed my mind…”
“Changed your mind? But you said it was important?”
Karlach goes to take the letter from you again but this time it is not so easy to take from your hand. Now in the middle of Sundries, you and Karlach are having a tug of war over a letter while Rolan looks at you two trying to piece together what is going on. With some quick moves on your part, you're able to shoulder check Karlach, not knocking her over by any means but just enough to cause her to loosen her hold slightly.
Feeling successful you smile to yourself that you were able to get it back, but when you look back at Karlach your smile fades. Her eyes are narrowed and you see the hints of flames starting to spark around her, she looks pissed and you are about to get it. Looking up you see Rolan at the bottom of the stairs approaching you with a very irritated look, it makes sense you did have a fight in the middle of his shop.
Shoving the letter down your pocket you do the thing that you only seem to know how to do nowadays, run.
“Ohhhh…..so you wrote him a love letter….”
“Yeah…I wanted to just leave it on his desk but…that didn’t work out….”
You and Karlach sit on the stone wall looking out into the city watching the sunset. Of course, when you ran off she chased you down and demanded an explanation. You gave your explanation and that's how you are here now pouring your heart out to her.
“Tav, I think you're going about this all wrong.”
“Oh? How do you figure?”
“Well sure everyone giving their advice is nice but…I think you should just do what feels right to you. Instead of worrying about what he will say just…just stop being so scared and talk to him. Be honest. All these games, and trying to be sneaky isn’t how to do it. ”
You take in her words for a moment before you speak, “So…you're telling me Lae’zel had the best advice? Being direct?”
Karlach laughs “What I am saying is stop being so in your head Tav. Instead of talking to everyone else about this, just go talk to him. I promise it will be best that way.”
“When should I do it?”
Karlach hums then shrugs “Fuck if I know. Maybe it will just hit you.”
A smile spreads to your lips and you nod your head “Thanks Karlach, that...that's some really good advice…”
Karlach smacks your back, basically knocking the air out of you. “Don’t worry I am here for all your relationship advice needs!”
“So, how's Dammon?” you say coyly
“Oh don’t even start.”
Laying in bed you think about all the advice your friends gave you and how all the advice had turned out. Why does this have to be so hard….
Looking outside you see how late it is, people all around are either asleep or going home to rest but as you lay you listen to the stillness of the city. Then your thoughts go back to Rolan. How you ache to be held in his arms…to get to look into those golden eyes on a dark still night like this. To talk to him about everything and nothing as his fingers gently caress your skin. You know you would so easily melt under his touch. How it would comfort you, how you want to comfort him.
Rising from your warm bed you go to look out into the night of the city. With a click, you open the window and are met with the shivering cold of the night. A chill runs through you as you lean out and admire the star-dusted sky. For some reason, your thoughts go back to the night of the grove celebration. Rolan was being teased by his siblings as he focused on his fireworks show. They didn’t seem to be impressed but you clapped for him, before he gave some response about adoring fans there was a moment in his dark eyes where those golden fires shined just for you. That's when the glittering flickers within you started to storm. At the time you thought it was maybe residue from the magic, but now you know better.
Holding your hands out into the still night you mimic the moves that Rolan taught you after a few goblets of wine after he got more comfortable around you or maybe just got tired of your begging. As you gesture you feel the fluttering of magic down your arms to your hands, motioning your arms up you release the spell. You used to call it just simple fireworks. Though after that night it now has a new name for both of you; Rolan’s Fire
“What are you calling it?”
“Rolan’s Fire. You have to admit it has a nice ring to it.”
The bursting lights grow in a flash then dim in a beautiful marriott of colors and white light. The elegance of the spell always fit him and it never failed to fill you with warmth, but now you still feel the bite of the cold despite how many memories of him you conger or how many times you spill the lights from your hands.
“Just talk to him…” Karlach's words echo in your mind. Of course, it’s that simple, but would it be enough? Could you even be able to articulate how he sends sparks through you? Would he want you to? Or would he want something different…Clenching your fist hard, your mind running rampant with thoughts, with advice, with what you should do. Then finally you come to your decision.
The cold air stings your face as you run down the dark streets. With every step, your mind screams how this is crazy but your heart urges your tired feet forward. Running as fast as your legs can take you, the city and the few late-night pedestrians blur beside you as your eyes keep forward to one goal. Ramazith’s Tower.
Running up to the tower you don’t even give yourself a minute to catch your breath before banging on the doors with all your might. You know you won’t be able to rest until you finally settle this with him. Rolan needs to know, you need to know so you can function again. The pinning of your heart has thoroughly consumed you, it’s time. If only this damn door would open!
The frustration you feel gets released as you beat against the door,
“Stop beating against that damn door!”
The voice sounds rough with sleep but still has that formal tone you have grown to listen for, to adore…
The door swinging open you immediately feel those sparks. His hair, usually tied back so precisely is knotted back in a messy rush, he looks surprised to see you. His handsome face contorted to scrunch in confusion at your slummed body still trying to catch your breath. Staring at him in this state is not helping you catch your breath in the slightest.
Rolan's chest, usually concealed underneath his robes, is now exposed showing off his toned chest covered in those defining ridges that decorate his red skin. Unable to help yourself, your eyes follow the trail of his ridges to his abs then the simple trousers that are keeping the rest of him from you.
“Tav?” his voice is laced with concern before it's going back to his usual irritated one. “What are you doing here? Going to act like a lunatic then run off again?” Rolan steps closer “What's been going on with you? I thought we were friends and you keep avoiding me! So what is it now that is so damned impor-”
“Rolan, how do I ask you out?” you interrupt while still trying to catch your breath.
“Wh-What?” Rolan's dark eyes are wide, any trace of sleep has been knocked out of him by your question.
Pushing past him you walk into the tower. The tower has usually been lit up when you have seen it before, but now it's dark and intimidating. Turning to look at Rolan he still has that shocked look on his face. You know your question is sudden, but you couldn’t think of anything else. Nervously you begin rambling.
“Look, I know it’s a sudden question but I don’t know what else to do. I have asked everyone for advice, and I just can’t seem to do any of it right. So might as well just ask the source right? Because all the stuff I have tried I choke, or Im making a complete ass out of myself. So please, just tell me…so I can do it and get this…nonning ache out! I know the reject-”
During your pacing rant, you feel hands cupping your face gently, slowly they raise your head to have you meet his golden eyes. All the words die off in your throat, Rolan’s is staring at you so intensely. With him so close you take in the details of his horns, the freckles peppering his red skin. The feeling of his hands warming your skin, you want to stay like this forever but you just wish you knew what he was thinking.
“Rolan I-”
“Quiet.”
Rolan’s command instantly silences you. The sparks you have been feeling are erupting into a storm of excitement that rushes through you. His thumbs carefully brush against your skin only making you lean in closer. Rolons eyes glow in the darkness, you want to tell him how they set you on fire but right as you're parting your lips Rolan dips down and presses his mouth to yours. His soft lips make all your thoughts melt away. The thundering sparks are bursting into a warmth throughout your body. Rolan’s Fire…
Slowly as he keeps guiding your lips with a growing intensity, then carefully you feel your body being guided back. Once you feel your back meet the wall you break the kiss with a gasp, but it's only a quick second before his lips are pressing to yours once more. Rolan's hands slide down from your jaw to your hips bringing them closer to press against himself. A soft moan leaves your chest when you feel the hardness of his arousal straining against you.
Rolan slips his tongue between your lips to taste you, the deepening of the kiss causes you to tighten your thighs feeling yourself getting wetter with each pass of his tongue. Your hands find a place on the hard ridges on his warm chest, as you trace over them slowly you feel him groan into the kiss. Then Rolan breaks the and his warm breath fans over your ear as he speaks.
“Ask me now.”
The words barely register in your foggy mind as you feel Rolan slipping his hands underneath your shirt.
“What?” You can hardly manage the word, your shaky breath makes Rolan lean into your neck with a smile and a kiss, slowly he drags his soft lips against your skin sending shivers of excitement through you. Then his voice is back in your ear purring his words to you.
“Ask me out again…tell me what you want…please…I need to hear it.”
The hands underneath your shirt find your breasts and crease them as you stumble a moan trying to find your words.
“Rolan…”
“Yes?”, he whispers as he strips your shirt from you. His eyes roam over all your curves before he leans into your exposed chest, palming and lightly teasing at your sensitive skin.
“I want you in every way possible…I..want you,” you practically cry as you feel him move from your chest to sink lower, sliding his lips against your stomach. Once reaching the hem of your pants he tugs down your pants, rolling your pants and underwear down carefully exposing your wet sex.
Kneeling now you feel his lips press against your hips causing you to arch them forward. Shaky hands slide up the back of your thighs, suddenly you feel one of your legs being lifted to hook over his shoulder. Heart beating out of your chest you look down to see his eyes are already on you as he waits patiently on one knee. His eyes are completely blown with desire and you can feel the anticipation in his shaking touch as he rubs his hand on the outside of your thigh.
“Go out with me?” you ask desperately.
“Gods yes,” he groans before pressing his face into your folds, his hot tongue quickly finds your clit nudging and licking against the bundle making you throw your head back in a sharp gasp.
Rolan being a quick learner latches onto your swollen bundle, sucking and twirling his tongue against it. The sudden stimulation has a moan escaping you then quickly your hand comes down to grasp one of his horns, holding on desperately as you watch him ravishingly pleasure you.
Rolan's eyes widen then roll back as your grip gets tighter on his horn. The groan he releases from the sensation vibrates through you, tightening the coil in your stomach. The slick from your quivering slit is rolling down his chin. Moving slightly he laps his tongue to taste more, Adjusting so his perfect nose is rubbing against your clit. His tongue breaching your insides makes you grab both horns as you pull him in closer. You moan his name like a prayer as you ride against his face.
The more you tug on his horns the more he groans, he can't help but grasp hard on your behind making you whine more as his nails dig into you. Your stomach starts to suddenly tighten more as his velvet tongue finds the sweet stop within you.
“There! Fuck there! D-Don't, Ah!” you push your hips off the wall but he's quickly pushing them back against it to keep you still.
Keeping his eyes on you, he watches as the hot wave of pleasure rushes through you. Clasping your hand over your mouth you moan and shake as your orgasm hits. Rolan eagerly licks and sucks up your release as you ride out your high.
Finally coming down from it Rolan starts to move away from your spent cunt, though before he's moved away completely he gives a quick nip to your clit making you let out a sharp whine.
Body feeling feverish you lean and brace yourself against the wall, trembling and breathing heavily. Rolan rises from his kneel and you watch in awe as a mix of your arousal and his spit glistens against his perfect face. He brings his hand to wipe his face, his eyes flicking down at you as he smiles then licks up the residue from his fingers.
“Meet me at Elfsong tomorrow night?”
Stars in your eyes you nod absentmindedly at him, “Yes…”
Gods you can’t wait for tomorrow…
He is like a cat born in a sopping wet cardboard box all alone </333
Could I request a Rolan little one-shot where he realizes he has feelings for Tav/reader (your choice!) like hits him like a freight train kind of realization?
Thank you for the request! I bestow upon you my holiday tidings with a gift I hope you enjoy hehe
Thank You (Rolan x GN Tav)
He didn't think it possible, and yet… Here he was. A well known, well respected Master of Magic, thriving in the city of Baldur's Gate. Successful, secure, and safe. Surrounded by family and friends alike. It truly is nothing short of a miracle. To think 6 short months ago, he would have been ignorant enough to have thrown everything away all for a huff of Lorroakan's dust.
Rolan chuckled to himself. Were the bastard still alive, he couldn't hold a candle to him now. He stood proud atop the balcony of Sorcerous Sundries, watching patrons and practitioners peruse the enchanted wares. Now more than ever, business was booming. With the help of fellow magic adept Gale of Waterdeep and Tav - the very Hero of Baldur's Gate themselves - they had managed to uncover quite the trove of hidden knowledge within the depths of Ramazith's Tower. After setting aside what they together deemed too dangerous for public exposure, they gathered the remainder of the collection to add to the Sundries shelves.
Were it too bold to believe this would usher in a new era of magic for the common mage? Rolan had been juggling the thought. After everything he'd gone through - everything Tav had done for him - he had been trying to catch himself in moments like these. Reminding himself to remain humble. He was a proud man, why shouldn't he be? This was something to be proud of! But he knew all too well how easily pride devolved into arrogance, and arrogance to hubris. And he didn't achieve any of this alone. Were it not for that queer collection of intrepid adventures, he would still be under Lorroakan's thumb. Still the punching bag of a cruel and selfish Master.
His grip tightened on the banister before him, until he heard the familiar woosh of a transportation portal activating nearby. Soon followed by the unlatching of the locked metal doors, and the spilling of said adventurers from the upstairs offices. Hands full of tomes and scrolls and bits and bobbles collected from within the tower chambers.
"Don't mind us!" Gale stated once he caught Rolan staring, his chin just barely peaking over the stack of supplies in his arms, "Just one last restock of the shelves below to keep this fortuitous business of yours flourishing and we'll be back on our way!" Nearly tripping over himself in the process, he managed to make it down to the ground floor of the establishment without any disastrous spills occurring.
Cal and Lia came shuffling through the doors next, bickering with themselves, significantly more manageable amounts of potions and alchemical ingredients in their own arms to add to the storefront collection.
Tav came from the small room last, a bundle of wands and staffs strapped to their back. After turning to lock the office door behind them, they caught Rolan's eyes with a smile. Joining him by the terrace edge, they too overlooked the bustling crowd below.
"Pretty remarkable what you've managed to do with this place," they commented. Rolan smiled and shook his head.
"What I've managed-?" He scoffed, "I don't think any if this was independently my doing. But... Thank you," he replied, still watching the patrons beneath them.
Tav nodded, smiling once more before stepping away. They had barely made it three steps down before Rolan called after them.
"Actually-!" His voice caught as Tav turned back and looked up at him. Rolan bit his lip in thought, tilting his head as to motion for Tav to return. They made their way back by his side, and he shifted to look at them.
"Actually, Tav… I don't think I've ever thanked you. Properly, thanked you."
Tav smiled, friendly and goofy, "Actually, Rolan, you have thanked me before. Quite a number of times," to that, Rolan smiled sheepishly.
"Sure, sure. I've thanked you for saving my and my family's lives a dozen times. I've thanked you for saving the city. But I don't think I've ever thanked you for… well, This," he gestured back out towards the bustling business.
Tav looked out, smiling once more in sincerity. Taking a deep breath in, they turned to Rolan again, "I would say 'you're welcome', but I'm not sure why I'd have anything to do with your trade being a success. You're the wizard here, not me," they nudged at the staffs on their back, "If anything, I'm your glorified errand-boy. Thank me by giving me a pay raise," they joked.
Rolan laughed, "You're much more to me than an errand-boy, Tav. You know this."
He looked them in the eyes again. For a moment, he felt as if he were seeing them for the first time.
The events of the Absolute incursion took their toll on everyone in Baldur's Gate - in Faerûn as a whole. But Tav was at the center. Rolan wasn't sure he'd ever see a day when they managed to drop their seemingly perpetual state of being Battle Ready. But in this moment, they seemed so relaxed.
Their hair was down, their clothes were loose and comfortable. Save for a small dagger on their belt, they carried no weapons. And more than anything, Rolan could feel the energy around them was… Calm.
Tav wasn't much for magic. They knew a few handy cantrips, but they were no seasoned spell-slinger. Perhaps it was simply Rolan's attunement with the Weave itself, but he always felt the energy surrounding Tav was… Bristling. Like a consistent build up of static shock one bad touch from being released. However, before him, in this moment, Tav was calm as the Gray Harbor at the break of dawn.
"Uhm…" Tav cleared their throat, breaking the silence Rolan hadn't even registered was building between them. Snapping back into reality, he noticed his skin was warm. Palms clammy and fingers tingling, "I'm going to put the supplies up. Maybe once things settle for the evening, we can discuss my salary over a pint," they joked, winking as they turned to descend the stairs once more.
Rolan watched them go, blinking as their words caught up with him, "Ah, u-um, yes! Let's do that!" He called out, likely not even loud enough to be heard over the crowds.
His heart was racing. Why was his heart racing? Why was he watching them maneuver the crowds, assisting guests as they unloaded supplies? Why was he so enraptured as loose hairs fell into their face, and they ran their fingers through the wisps that framed their travel worn features? Gods, why was he noticing their travel worn features?!
Rolan swallowed deep, though his throat was dry. Tav was indeed so much more than an errand-boy.
And oh, how his cheeks burned as he realized… He may have incidentally agreed to a date with them. Tonight.
