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.”
Rolan reacting to seeing Tav in the wavemother robes? 👀 Do you think he would have a hard time keeping his eyes from straying or staring?
!NSFW!
You know the poor boy would be a fucking wreck, bless his heart. I'm talking eyes refusing to meet yours, stuttering over words, hands fidgeting with his clothes, losing his train of thought...it's embarrassing just how flustered he's getting over a garment.
But later that night, when the shop's closed and he's in bed, he's going to curse himself for not looking more. He should have memorized the curve of your bare hips, the tightness of the fabric around your tits, the way that the parts of your body that are covered are still so visible through the light fabric....
Even if he only allowed himself the briefest of looks, his imagination is more than active enough to fill in any blanks he may have.
And I mean, obviously he's going to jack off to the thought. Teeth bared and body rigid as he strokes his cock vigorously and pathetically until he cums-- and then he's going to keep going, because damnation, what the hells is he supposed to do? You had to have worn that damn dress on purpose, just to see what he would do. And he wonders if you would like the reaction it's given him; cock sticky and sore and spent yet still twitching, shooting blanks as he whimpers and growls low in his throat, wishing he was brave enough to let you know just how sexy you are to him
Can I request headcanons for (poly but none of them are dating yet) Zevlor and Rolan reacting to gn human Tav confessing to both of them but they explained they would understand if they're rejected since they're the same kind who has discriminated them so much? With a happy ending please?
Sweet beautiful Anon! Again I thank you deeply for your patience and am sorry it took so long. I absolutely loved the idea though and turned it into a little fic. It is going to be two chapters and here is part one (second one should be ready later this week lol) Please enjoy the angst and yearning (✿◡‿◡) 💜💜💜
Falling into Place
Pt 1 (pt 2 is Here !🥰)
Reader x Rolan x Zevlor
Light suggestive imagery (the nsfw lives in pt two)
You hadn’t intended on being so bold when you planned to visit Ramazith’s tower, but something in the way the corners of Rolan’s mouth curled as he brushed off your words sent a rush of boldness through you. Even as you sat on the corner of his desk, obscuring part of the map that ran past the edge practically hitting the floor, the wizard kept a playful look in his eye that made your heart pound.
“You know, if I wanted a horrid little creature to disturb my work and make a mess of my things I could have picked up an alley cat by now.” He mused, still pretending to read the papers in his hands.
“You should! You’ve got the room now.” You smiled as Rolan rolled his eyes.“Will you at least consider it?”
“Consider roaming around the countryside- for gods knows how long- looking for a troop of goblins?” He leaned back in his chair throwing the papers to the side. “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t sound terribly appealing.”
“Oh come on, won’t it be a nice change from locking yourself in here night and day?” You gesture around you at the chaos of books and scrolls that was his office.
“ Well, hero,” Rolan scoffed. “I am perfectly comfortable in my tower and don’t require saving at the moment. You’ll be the first to know should that change.” He turned his attention back to the map in front of him.
“Please.” You whine. “It’ll be fun! And they’ll just be a few of us. Wyll, Karlach, Zevlor-”
“In that case I must go.” The tiefling wrinkles his nose, cutting you off. For a moment you second guessed how real his annoyance might be. “With all the praise you showered on him after your last little adventure I would have thought him capable of taking down the goblins all by himself.”
“My word, is the great master of Ramazith’s Tower jealous of a paladin?” you tease.
“No.” Rolan snapped quickly. He stood, reaching across the sprawling paper to scribble some notes towards the top. “And could you get off my desk now?”
You didn’t move, rather regarded the wizard and the knit in his brow. It was no secret that he wasn’t the warmest man you’ve known and the signals of his true feelings were sometimes hard to read. Suddenly missing the mild affection he gave you from time to time, you leaned your head against his shoulder causing him to freeze completely.
“Obviously you don’t have to go.” You sighed. “But, I just thought it would be nice. I do like having you around. For some reason.”
He snorted out a small laugh and you could have sworn he shifted closed to you. Even the slight contact brought a smile to your lips.
“Good. The feeling is… mutual.” He paused, his eyes darted about not knowing where to look.“ And I suppose that wizard of yours is still busy boring his students to death?”
“He’s not my wizard. I haven’t got one, unless you’ve suddenly had a change of heart in the last two seconds.” You glance up at him coyly and could have sworn he took a sharp intake of breath.
“Well, it still sounds like a horrible time and I have no real interest in it. However, it would be irresponsible of me to let you lot go on your little adventure without the skills of a wizard. So- to save myself from losing sleep- yes I will-”
You let out a squeal and flung your arms around him causing his words to catch in his throat. Thanking him profusely and you let out a flood of words assuring him his worries were unfounded. Rolan kept still, hardly even breathing, in your embrace. Cautiously, he slid his arms around you and lightly ran his hand up and down your back.
“Now, now, there’s no need for such thanks.” he let out a nervous laugh. “ Not yet anyway. I’m sure I’ll end up pulling you out of some mess before too long.”
The spring in your step as you walked home that evening quickly turned back into worry. It was true that Rolan tagging along would be helpful and- of course- you desperately wanted him around. As the tiefling had advanced in his magical mastery you had seen less and less of him. It made you question if he’d lost some of the little affection he may have held for you. Not that it mattered in the end. You very much doubted you’d have the chance to come clean about your feelings.
You had always taken your time with love affairs, trying to gauge the situation before laying your heart bare. You had a heart overflowing with a care that was more than happy to give to however many people you loved. Of course taking multiple partners wasn’t for everyone and as careful as you were to be honest with potential lovers you had been burned horribly in the past. Rejection was a fear you carried with you now more than ever.
There was no point in lying to yourself anymore. You had never been so in love with two people than you were at the moment. Perhaps serendipity, perhaps a curse, both Rolan and Zevlor had taken your heart utterly. The cleanup and rebuilding of the city would have been impossible without them. They had both spent countless hours at your side ready to aid you in any way you needed. As time pressed on your bonds had deepened and the idea of not having your favourite wizard and paladin in your life broke your heart.
How could you tell either of them the truth when it may mean losing one of your closest friends? Would you have to choose one of them? And if your greatest hope was true and they shared your affection you couldn’t bring yourself to break one of their hearts.
Neither of them had ever indicated how they might feel about having partners. It had never come up in conversation and every time you considered breaching the subject you backed out at the last minute, too afraid of what they may say. As much as you had learned of tiefling culture, you hadn't found anything that may give you a hint. For now the only decision was to try and stay sane while your desire ate you alive.
***
At a glance the journey was off to an excellent start; the weather had been fair and after only a week of travel you had stumbled across a strong lead. The comfortable routine of traveling with your companions was a welcomed change. Rolan seemed in good spirits despite his playful jabs and endless complaints. It was mid way through the second week when everything went south.
The path chosen turned out to be far longer and harder to traverse than you hoped. One with twisting slopes and leaden with brambles and jagged, uneven rocks. After taking a deeply embarrassing tumble, Zevlor had taken to staying at side, ready to offer his hand or an arm to cling to for balance. More than once, perhaps subconsciously, you allowed the contact to pass the need for stability. For a moment you could revel in the dream of having such a kind and gentle man on your arm. Again, you hadn’t meant to over step. The two of you never shied away from physical contact- you’d had plenty of sparring sessions with the man- but there was still an unspoken tension no matter how comfortable you had become. Unlike with Rolan, it was easy to slip over the line- the one you had given yourself- with Zevlor and not even realize it had happened. In the end it always made you feel just as foolish as the night you had invited Rolan. .
To make matters worse the late summer weather had turned uncharacteristically cool and wet. Ending days chilled and soaked to the bone did nothing for morale. As much as you tried to stay optimistic after a few days of truely unpleasant conditions, something in Rolan’s demeanor shifted. His witty remarks turned to a cold silence. He did his duties thoroughly and without complaint all the while seeming a million yards away. You had become certain he was actively avoiding you. Time and again he would distance himself from you however possible. Even when you attempted to assist him he was determined to work alone.
While huddled around a fire for supper with your companions, you found yourself across from Rolan and couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes fell everywhere but forward. As if you weren’t even there. To your surprise Wyll, ever the charismatic one, was able to jump back into a conservation the two had started earlier. The wizard sounded weary but friendly nonetheless. Your gut might as well have sunken into the abyss as you mulled over the past few days. Rolan had become quiet but you had yet to seem in distance himself from Wyll or Karlach. Not as he had done with you and Zevlor. A cold fear ran through your bones at the thought of it being more than bad weather to sour his mood.
The prospects left you dizzy. You couldn’t completely mask the distress in your voice as you made an excuse to retire to your tent. Zevlor followed you, checking if you required any help or healing he could provide. As you reassured him your eyes drifted to the glint of gold shining past his shoulder. You have caught Rolan’s eyes fixed on the two of you before turning back to Wyll.
Most of the night was spent tossing and turning in your bedroll as you tried to quell the endless scenarios in your brain. Tried to swallow down all the tears you’d been holding back for far too long. It felt practically indulgent to imagine Rolan was actually jealous of Zevlor or that he did in fact harbor feelings for you. They both felt out of character for him, or was he just better at hiding it than you had been? Whatever the case, you had awoken early ready to throw yourself into anything that wasn’t thinking about what a fool you’ve been.
Zevlor, as usual, was the only one awake at such an hour. Not wanting to waste the time you had together you decided on a sparring session and settled in a clearing not too far from camp. As skilled a fighter as you were you didn't come close to his mastery of the sword and still had much to learn. As if sensing your need for a distraction Zevlor kept you on your toes, moving with all the grace and ferocity he displayed in a real battle. You were unsure if the stress of your worries had shaken your hand or if Zevlor had finally stopped going easy on you, either way he was subduing you with ease. Frustrations hot in your chest you were becoming more clumsy and frantic with every swing. In a misguided attempt to break the deadlock your shaking arms could barely hold, you tried hooking your foot around Zevlor’s ankle to throw off his balance. However it worked a bit too well, sending the two of you down hard, the tiefling crashing directly on top of you.
You laughed with what little air wasn’t knocked out of your lungs. At the stupid idea, at the befuddled look on Zevlor’s face. You were certain he was about to scold you, but no sound passed his lips. Still breathing hard against you, he studied your face as if trying to solve a riddle. Helpless, you could only gaze up at him. He was a vision, with his hair loose and clinging to his sweat laden brow. A smile bloomed wide across your face. How long had you dreamed of feeling his weight on you? Of looking up into those flaming eyes? Instinctively your hands rose to his shoulders keeping him there. You could feel his breath on your face, the hammering of your heart flooding every vein. Your mind screamed to stop before you only made things worse but you both lingered like this for too long not to act.
Zevlor's whole body tensed as you pressed your lips to his with an aggression he had not been prepared for. Soon he matched your passion and welcomed your curious tongue into his mouth. He moaned your name and you had to fight the urge to wrap your legs around him along with your arms. The worry and uncertainty fell to the back of your mind as your hands found their way across his chest. Dressed down in a tonic, you were able to delight in the pattern of ridges he bore. Your hands roamed everywhere as the paladin’s lips sought to devour you. He moved from mouth to jaw, to neck and back again, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could find. Drunk on the taste of him, your fingers dipped past his shirt to caress the warm tight muscle of his stomach. Also lost in the sensation he rolled his hips against you causing you both to groan into each other's mouth.
“Stop!” Zevlor tore himself away from you as if burned. Sitting up on his knees he bowed head, red faced and clearly frustrated. “Stop. Please, I don’t want to-to-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, don’t worry.” you move to his side. “I should apologize. I was rash and I haven’t slept and I just-”
“I didn’t want this to happen this way.” His soft eyes meet yours.
You want to ask what he means yet it seems a better solution to leave and blame your actions on the lack of sleep. But the warmth radiating from his weathered face held you like a spell.
“I- the time never felt quite right. And you deserve nothing less than a proper courting, to be adorned with lovely things and beautiful words. However, you know-you must know-” the former commander cups your face with a shocking amount of gentleness for such rough hands. “That I adore you.”
Zevlor’s searched your face. As hard as you tried to steal yourself you couldn’t push down the rush of joy; the pleading in your eyes that invited him into another kiss.
This time his mouth moved slowly, tenderly; it held a sort of honesty that made you shiver. You tried not to get ahead of yourself but you swear you can feel his longing in every movement, as if he had been holding back just as you had. You could feel the grin on those perfectly full lips when he pulled away. Everything you’re about to say leaves your mind as Zevlor's eyes darted suddenly to something behind you. A chill runs down your spine as you whip around to see Rolan standing in the tree line. His look of genuine shock melted into a disdainful grimace.
“There’s breakfast ready. If you’re so inclined.” Rolan spat out before turning on his heel to hastily march back to camp.
Panicked, you jumped to your feet. Calling after the wizard repeatedly only made him move quicker leaving you standing there face hot, pushing down the lump in your throat. You were rooted to the spot, breathing hard. Zevlor’s eyes were on you- you were sure of it- but you didn’t dare look at him.
“I don’t mean to pry,” the tiefling spoke softly. “Have I, perhaps, misjudged the situation?”
“No, Zevlor. I- Gods I'm mad for you. It’s just- I just-it’s hard to-” you fought to keep your voice steady.
“It’s complicated.” His lips held a smile that could not mask the disappointment in his eyes. “I understand. I’ve had my fair share of complications when it comes to romance. And Rolan is a quite accomplished young man.”
“I don’t know what I'm doing. I’m sorry.” you breathed.
“You’ve done nothing wrong. I have heard it said that the course of true love never did run smooth. Should you need to talk or anything really, don’t hesitate to find me.” He affirmed and kissed your hand.
As the two of you made your way back, Zevlor chuckled to himself.
“I must say I am relieved to know that all my worries of you not having an interest in tieflings were unfounded.” He grinned.
Despite your tempest of emotions you couldn’t help but laugh.
↬ Warnings: afab!reader, she/her pronouns for reader, mentions of breastfeeding and some old coot being uppity about it, protective!Rolan
↬ This is the brain rot result of @drizztdohurtin and I discussing proective!Rolan. Hope y'all enjoy, Rolan Nation. Love y'all. ♡
Sorcerous Sundries was thronged with customers, and it seemed every one of them had a question they only wished to ask the Master of the Tower himself. Rolan did well with maintaining his pleasant demeanor, even after he finished speaking to the third person in a row who struggled with the somatic components of simple spells. Regardless of how trivial the questions, or how dense the customers, Rolan thoroughly enjoyed his job. After all, this was everything he'd dreamed of, and more.
The company he kept in the shop area of the Sundries on this particular day helped as well.
Naturally, the brief moment to himself was snatched away by a customer approaching Rolan – albeit looking considerably more agitated than the others, but not a sight he was unfamiliar with.
Ah, the joys of customer service.
“I'd like to speak with the manager of this establishment,” the middle-aged woman stated, the deep frown set upon her features making her wrinkles all the more noticeable.
“You're looking at him. How might I assist you?” Rolan asked calmly, giving her the same kind smile he gives everyone in the Sundries.
“I have been here many times over the past few decades, and never before have I had any concerns about the atmosphere or decorum. Until today. And I must say, I am downright appalled.”
Rolan's smile faded. Gods, had Cal or Lia gotten cross with a rude customer and swore at them? Or maybe something simpler – like one of the newer employees guided her in the wrong direction?
“I am grateful you have come to me about this, so that I have the opportunity to right whatever wrong has occurred. Could you tell me more about what happened?” Rolan asked sincerely.
“Yes. I simply cannot believe the indecency you would allow in a place of such esteemed business. For the sake of the gods, that – that harlot over there is lounging about, exposed.”
Rolan's brows furrowed in genuine confusion, as he swiveled his entire body around to examine the space. The only person seated, on the entire ground floor, was you. His wife. Who just so happened to be breastfeeding his son.
You smiled at him when you caught his eye, confused when he did not return it. Instead, your husband's expression soured, before he returned his attention to the woman in front of him.
“Are you referring to the woman on the settee, feeding her baby?”
“Why, yes I am. That is indecent. She should be covered up, or in a washroom. Or, better yet, she should have left and gone home to do that!”
“She is here because this is her home,” Rolan said, slowly and carefully, attempting to conceal the intense irritation he felt. The woman appeared confused, until Rolan spoke again. “Ignoring the fact that she is the Hero of Baldur's Gate, and you should show her due respect – she is my wife, and she is feeding my son. I hardly see how that is indecent.”
“Well, she – it – that isn't something she should be doing in public! You ought to tell her to go elsewhere,” the woman sputtered, crossing her arms.
“The only person I'll be telling to go elsewhere is you, madam.” The woman sputtered some more, alternating between halved arguments and requests for forgiveness, but Rolan merely held up a hand, effectively silencing her. “Please leave this establishment at once. Should you wish to return with a kinder demeanor, you are welcome here. If not, do not bother coming back. Have the day the gods see fit to bestow upon you.”
Rolan turned on his heel and walked away then, noticing the woman huffing but leaving from his peripheral vision, as he made his way over to you. He sat beside you on the settee, a beaming smile quickly replacing his scowl as you handed him the baby, having just finished feeding and burping him.
“What was all that about? That woman looked positively irate,” you inquired with a chuckle.
Rolan merely shook his head, placing a gentle kiss between the still-tiny nubs of his son's horns, then giving you a quick kiss.
