#geraldus x you

[bxttxrflybxddie]

Dating Geraldus

A/n: Don't look at me like that. I tried working on requests but he's infiltrated my mind, running around day and night!!!! He's a cutie and I love him lol, might do spiced headcannons later who knows. I could probably write some more but these are the many thoughts that have been rummaging through my head.

Requested: no lol

Pairing: Harper (Soon-to-be Watcher) Geraldus x gn!Reader

Word Count: 1.7+k

Warnings: Lots of fluff, brief mentions of marriage and having children, brief food mentions as well, existential dread related to trauma and heavy disassociation towards the end. Reader = Tav, Tav = Reader

You accompany him to his ceremony where he’s named a Watcher! He offers an arm to escort you like a gentleman, and you not-so-secretly get a feel of the upper strength he’s been keeping private. You practically hang off of his elbow the entire evening and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Him being fiercely protective of you. Not crossing your boundaries, but keeping an eye open for any signs of danger when you’re around. He knows more than well that you’re capable of taking down enemies on your own but he wants to be someone you can lean on; someone you can look to being your shield against the evils of the world. It’s more than Geraldus wanting to be useful but more of him wanting to keep you safe and protected.

A plethora of nicknames for you. There’s the familiar use of “love” and “dear” with an occasional “my” before the term, but every now and then he calls you his “moonbeam” since you guide his way through the dark. 

You receive plenty of letters when he’s sent away for work. Long and detailed confessions of how he misses your warmth and how he can’t wait to return by your side. He writes dreamy imaginations of how you both would spend time at the current location he’s stuck in. Geraldus even tries his hand at poetry, each line about you.

Send him letters back! He has a growing collection of each note you’ve sent him, the majority are kept close to his nightstand but your most recent ones stay in his pockets while on duty. He likes to reread them in his spare time; memorizing each curve of every stroke of ink in your handwriting. He will also memorize specific phrases or terms of endearment you’ve written.

Meeting his mom! She instantly loves you for what you mean to her son, but makes an effort to get to know you personally as well. She adores when you lend a helping hand around the farm or assist her in making desserts! Geraldus is usually standing still; struck with Cupid’s arrow as he watches you and his mother get along. His heart melts in the beautiful domestic bliss of the moment!

Geraldus makes a daily effort to tell you how much you mean to him, one way or another. He tends to accidentally repeat sentences he’s already said to remind you that the words will always remain truthful. He also likes figuring out which vocabulary can make you shy, with a darted gaze and heated cheeks. He thinks it’s cute when you’re nervous given your reputation as the grand savior of Baldur’s Gate.

Being with you has him realize how much of a touchy cuddlebug he is deep down. Holding your hand, resting his head on your head/shoulder, and keeping a hold around your waist or bicep quickly become some of his favorite activities. Adores to hold you from behind when you are both standing and likes to be held against your chest when laying down in bed. It’s as if he can finally breathe; decompress and embrace the safety of purely you. He doesn’t mean to, but he does smell you when your bodies are intertwined. Your scent is very soothing to him. Very grabby in his sleep as well, he subconsciously wants to keep you close no matter when.

He’s so nervous under your stare; he can’t help feeling flustered. You’re looking at him, every detail about himself is completely bare and out in the open for you to judge. Along with a soft expression filled with adornment from you is, more likely than not, aimed at his direction. It doesn’t help that you can read him like a book. Further in your relationship he grows more confident and sure of himself. 

You can find him tripping over his words early in your relationship, particularly in moments where he’s trying to impress you. A few words of reassurance helps him immensely. 

He loves feeling your fingers between his raven locks. You usually brush his hair in the morning and at night, sometimes giving his scalp a comforting scratch. This is the quickest way to have him asleep in your lap. He snores slightly but is easy to wake if it’s time to get up. 

Geraldus frequently has nightmares. Not only from the incident where you both met but also from the other horrors he’s seen during his work as a Watcher. He despises waking you up in the middle of the night since he hates being bothersome. However, he’ll still selfishly indulge in your comfort after nudging you to consciousness if he can’t handle his fears himself. Pull him close, his pointed ear against the thump of your heartbeat is precisely what he needs as both consolement and a lullaby. 

Every time he thinks of his future, he pictures you. He wants to be yours for the rest of his life and is definitely considering proposing after a couple years of being your significant other. If you have previously expressed wanting children someday, Geraldus could spend hours imagining how amazing parents the two of you would be. It’s almost as if he’s conjuring them into reality with how much he’s thinking. Maybe your daughter will have your nose, maybe your son will have his hair…

His kisses leave you feeling special. He first kisses you with only lip, shaking slightly as he feels blessed by the Gods themselves to have this opportunity with both hands on each side of your face. As the kiss progresses he’ll clumsily add some tongue, but leave you to take control. He likes it when you do. 

With leaving some room for imagination, he really enjoys following your orders. He appreciates a kind tone when telling him to do something more than barking out instructions, but he’s a good boy and will do what’s needed nonetheless. He also appreciates rewards for his good behavior.

His laugh is so loud now that he’s found it again, largely in thanks to you.

Geraldus will always catch you if you were to throw yourself at him, maybe not lift you off the ground but certainly collide his toned body with yours. He might stumble depending on the day and sometimes he’ll even fall over but he'll use his figure to soften the blow. Hold him against yourself nevertheless! Squeeze him tightly when he walks through the door after not seeing him for a while because of his duties! It makes him feel treasured and wanted. 

The Watcher isn’t necessarily a bad cook, but simple is a better word to describe his meals. He has primarily made food for only himself after leaving his mother’s care, but was mainly helping with the side dishes in his youth instead of the main course. Since you’ve lightened his life, he tries to improve as a chef! From experimenting dishes to asking his mother about certain recipes, he’ll be trying his best to make a “Marry Me” meal that’ll make you proud! 

Since Geraldus is gone for duty every now and then, he likes to return with special dates planned. It’s one of the many ways he likes to thank you for your patience and for choosing to stay by his side. Sometimes the dates are fancy, but more often than not they’re inexpensive and personal. Involving your favorites across multiple categories and sweet moments the two of you have previously shared. 

On dates in general, he tends to keep quiet and let you do the talking. He loves to hear about your dreams, aspirations, thoughts, opinions, and how your day went. Listening to how a scenario played out, even if he was there/involved, from your point of view is a joy to him. Yes, you’ll have to be the “He asked for no pickles!” in this relationship but it’s worth it and more. However, if you ask him a question he’s sure to respond. If it’s about a particular topic he may rant a tangent and then promptly apologize. Ask him about his work, he has so much gossip stored that's ready to be shared.

Geraldus does have thoughts about how lucky he is to be yours, and how it almost doesn’t feel real to him. Sometimes, he wonders if he met his end all the way back on that horrible night, and your time together has only been a vision. Or, maybe it’s what was in store for him after his life all along. He also speculates if he's currently going through his passing, and instead of flashing through the memories of his life he’s instead creating new and beautiful ones with you by his side and being named a Watcher. You’ll have to regularly ground him and bring himself back from the deceiving space his trauma has created in his mind. You’re here, He’s here, you two are here together, all of his memories are real, and you are both alive in this very moment. Learning a few breathing practices and taking the time to inhale and exhale with him is something he couldn’t live without. 

On the other side of that coin, he also has moments - very brief moments - where he wonders if you’re a doppelganger. That the real you, who he never had a chance with to begin with, is gone and in your place is this face-stealing creature that has seen him at his realest, weakest, and most vulnerable self. He is quick to brush those thoughts away. If you were a doppelganger, then surely, you would’ve ended him already; you’ve had every chance to do so. On his worst days, he thinks of the latter that wraps around into his “Is this even real?” moments. Ground and breathe with him still, but giving him some extra support through therapy will be beneficial for him for years to come. He still needs a good cry on occasions, hold him close and rub his back while he gets everything off of his chest and starts the day anew. 

He’s all yours; every fiber of his being is under your mercy and you continue to prove that you sweetly care for him. For that, he loves you. He loves you with the gentle thrum of his heart, with every moment shared between you two, with each arrow he aims, and with all of the years that pass. 

© BXTTXRFLYBXDDIE

[redroomroaving]

Realising I hadn't posted my Olly x Cal here!

From an upcoming Pirate AU verse project that I'm working on with the Hamlet Discord and the wonderful @tickitytockityrattityrottity and @beesht - watch this space.

[redroomroaving]

It's my boys 😭 I'm dying

[underdark-dreams]

Fellow Rolan lovers forgive me 👀 I have no idea where this came from. I just encountered Harper Geraldus in Act 3 again in my playthrough last night, and my brain said, that boy needs to get [redacted]

Harper Geraldus x afab!OC (unnamed, description kept vague)

Wet Behind the Ears

"What would you like, Geraldus? You can tell me." Harper Geraldus has had a very bad, terrible, absolutely no-good week. His superiors decide he needs a night at the Sharess's Caress to cure what ails him.

Tags: Size Kink, Sexual Inexperience, Face Sitting, Explicit | afab!OC

Word Count: 5.6k [Read on AO3]

No sooner had she stepped from the bathwater did the door to her chambers swing open.

“Hope you’re not headed to bed,” called a sing-song voice.

She wrapped a towel around her wet middle just as Irenya flounced brazenly past the wooden screen beside her bath. Privacy was a rare luxury in Sharess’s Caress, but her workday was well over—she’d earned the right to a bit of it.

“Do come in,” she drawled. 

The elf only gave her a coy smile as she toyed with the laces of her tiny bodice. Even for a courtesan, Irenya wore as little as she could get away with. And the bar downstairs owed her half its profits for it.

“Good, you’re up. Mamzell’s got another client for you.”

“At this hour?” A bit of impatience crept into her voice; it was far past midnight. Whoever they were, they’d better be paying well. “Don’t suppose they’d prefer one of our lovely drow.”  

“You know that’s not how this works,” Irenya laughed, a tinkling sound. “Mamzell handpicked you. Said you’ll be his type.” 

That meant he was either quite green, or quite reserved—she knew her niche well. She busied herself with toweling off and wondered which. “Patriar?”

“Harper,” answered Irenya.

That did stir a mild curiosity. Harpers were even rarer than Guild members on the upper floors of this place, and that was saying something. Folk who dealt in secrecy and under-dealings were strongly discouraged from visiting pleasure houses—though she knew from personal experience that they didn’t always listen to orders. 

And why should they? Sharess’s Caress kept secrets better than any of them put together. But unlike the Guild or the Zhent, most Harpers weren’t known to have pockets deep enough for after-hours trysts. 

“If this is another favor for Entharl Danthelon,” she warned, cinching a gauze robe around her waist. “I swear, Amira turns into a giggling maid around that bloke. Don’t tell her I said that,” she added swiftly.

Thankfully, Irenya didn’t seem to hear. She took an eager step closer. “Just wait till you see, you might have fun with this one. He’s so pretty,” Irenya groaned, biting her lip in the way that earned all that coin.

Pretty or not, her body yearned only for her empty bed. But telling Irenya that would ensure it got back to Mamzell Amira, and the house mother’s patience had its limits. She put on a practiced smile instead.

“Then kindly shoo,” she told Irenya. “And send the pretty man up.”

As the door swung shut behind the elf—who was no doubt headed for a good night’s sleep, unlike herself—she heaved a sigh and moved to prepare her room for clientele. A second goblet on the tray; a pass over the covers and pillows to ensure they looked fresh and unslept in. She shook her hair down from its clasp, glancing in the mirror by the bath to smooth it. Then she perched herself on the edge of the mattress and arranged her robe to show a sliver of leg. Just enough to catch the eye. 

If this Harper was openly visiting the Caress, he must have done something very impressive worth rewarding. Or else survived something awful enough to warrant a professional distraction.

Gods, let it not be the latter. She’d comforted her share of men and women who only wanted to be held while they cried, but tonight, the prospect made her groan. A tumble in the sheets would be far less work on her part, and the customer usually left just as satisfied in the end.

A soft tap at the door broke her reverie. 

Her brow furrowed for a moment—knocks were rare. “Come in,” she called.

When the youth stepped slowly into her room, it was immediately apparent why he hadn’t just opened the door like any other patron would.

Irenya hadn’t lied—he was certainly pretty. But gods, he was young. Couldn’t be older than twenty or so, with an angular jaw and wide hazel eyes framed by long, dark lashes the same color as the hair curling just past his shoulders. He had the look of a fawn who’d just stumbled into the middle of civilization.

She watched his large eyes quickly take in the room. When they fell on her where she sat, the blush that traveled up his face was noticeable even in candlelight.

Her mind switched tack at once. She rose to her bare feet, wearing her friendliest and least wanton smile. 

“Please,” she invited, drawing an arm out to welcome him in. 

His eyes flicked down her figure once, then settled firmly up on her face. “Thank you,” he managed, and strode briskly into the room as if afraid she might rescind the offer. 

It took only a few seconds to size him up. His leather jerkin was well-worn but clean, same as his boots. He was tall and fit, yet he moved with more of a cautious ranger’s gait than that of a soldier or swordsman. Perhaps that was just down to nerves. As she watched him close the door, she noticed his pale fingers fidget and shake on the latch slightly.  

Few of his age and apparent rank could afford this place, particularly by special appointment. Someone must be very fond of this young man.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she told him, filling the inevitable silence before it could form. “Would you like a drink? I’ve got something excellent from Amn.”

She turned away to uncork the bottle and give him a chance to look around. In truth, this was a vintage she’d been saving for a quiet moment alone tonight—but it would taste just as fine with company. As she filled both cups, she could hear him shifting on his feet behind her.

“Thank you,” he repeated again as she turned back. His voice was a gentle tenor, and there was a nervous tremble on the first word. 

“So.” She offered the wine out to him—he was careful not to touch her fingers as he accepted it. “What shall I call you?”

“Geraldus,” he blurted out. Clearly not taking up her veiled offer to give a pseudonym. When his doelike eyes finally met hers again, they were unsure. “Can—could I ask your name?”

She gave him another easy smile and replied with the usual. Not returning his honesty—but when did she ever?

“Very nice to meet you.” And young Geraldus actually dipped his head in a little bow to her. Oh, she would have this one fast asleep in half an hour.

“What a gentleman,” she laughed, finding herself harmlessly charmed by the gesture. “The pleasure’s all mine. Seat?” 

She sank back down on the edge of the bed while leaving plenty of space for a gap. For a moment Geraldus froze, and she was afraid she’d broken him. Then he followed suit wordlessly, wine in hand, and took a seat on the very far corner of the mattress.

Really should bother Amira for some chairs, she noted to herself. Then again, most of the clientele didn’t mind beds as much as Geraldus apparently did.

At least he was drinking. It would help him forget his nerves, and she was pleased to see Geraldus take a long drought as his eyes roamed across the room again over the edge of his cup.

She took a savoring sip. “Good, isn’t it?”

“It’s sweet,” he agreed in surprise. “It doesn’t burn like—” He caught himself, looking sheepishly at her. “That is, it’s better than the wine back home.”

“Where’s home for you, Geraldus?” She tried and failed to imagine such a gentle soul growing up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

“Nowhere special,” he said, looking down to swirl the liquid in his cup. “Just a little village in the Greenfields.”

“Ah—” She half-reclined with an elbow on the mattress, and felt a grin rise to her face in spite of herself. “Yeah, that’s firmly ale country. Damn good ale, though.”

Geraldus’s face finally relaxed. “You’re from Greenfields too?”

“Just lived there for a while. Long enough to miss it after a few years in the Gate. Let me guess, was your family in barley or sheep?”

“Sheep,” he laughed, and she admired how handsome he was with a touch more confidence. “On rainy days I can still smell the wool.”

“You think sheep are bad? Try pigs.” She cocked a brow at him and took another drink.

Geraldus looked at her as though trying to tell whether she was joking. “There’s no way someone like you has mucked out a pig stall.”

“Why not?”

“You’re a lady,” he protested, as if that ended the discussion. “You drink Amnian wine, you smell like lavender—” Geraldus straightened up slightly, looking as though he'd given too much away. 

She found she enjoyed his guilelessness. She had no regrets about the comforts this life afforded her, but ‘lady’ was a stretch. Still, manners were always appreciated.

“How else do you think I paid my way here?” She teased him. “Selling my best sows set me up quite nicely my first year in Wrym’s Crossing.”

The subjects of life in the country compared to life in Baldur’s Gate took them far. She refilled their wine twice, eventually just leaving the bottle within arm’s reach on the floor. Geraldus had relaxed enough to mirror her pose and lean back on his elbow; she brought her feet up on the bed to curl into a comfortable shape beside him.

Perhaps sleepiness and the wine were going to her own head…but Geraldus looked prettier by the minute. She watched the rose-petal curve under his lower lip as he spoke, not catching what he was saying. His eyes were more of a pale green than the hazel gold she’d taken them for at first. Or maybe that was just a trick of the candlelight?

As she pondered, she realized that he had grown silent and was watching her face in turn. She'd angled herself closer to him involuntarily while he spoke. They were close enough she could hear the shallow note of his breathing.

“Can I ask you something?” She requested, breaking the quiet. Geraldus nodded.

“Why exactly did you come here tonight? You’re not the usual type,” she added, and touched her fingers to his free hand in an attempt to soften the observation.

“Oh.” Geraldus fiddled with the neck of the wine glass in his hand. “It wasn’t really my idea. Not that—this is nice,” he said in a rush, and she felt his fingers twining up through hers on the bedspread. “Not like I expected.”

She cocked her head. “Did you expect me to eat you up?” Not a bad idea, she thought, glancing over the lines of his body under his jerkin.

“No!” He blurted out in surprise. “Maybe? I don’t know…it just happened so fast. Entharl pushed me out the doors before I knew where I was. Said I was too gloomy for usual company,” he added, looking down at his boots. 

So that confirmed her earlier suspicions. Harpers may be discreet, but it was hard to miss things when you worked down the street from what was almost certainly one of their safehouses. Which meant poor Geraldus must have been sent here tonight for comforting as much as pleasuring.

“Have you had a bad day?” She asked gently.

His large eyes met hers with a long look. For a moment, he almost seemed close to tears. “Bad week,” he answered.

She brushed the back of his hand with her thumb. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Vehemently, he shook his head at her.

“What would you like to do then, Geraldus? You can tell me.”

“I don't know…I’m not sure.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Can I kiss you?”

In answer, she took the wine glass from his hand and set it at the foot of the bed beside her own. Then she reclined parallel to him, tilting her face up in an open offer.

Without another word, he leaned down to press his lips to hers. He trembled slightly against her, whether from nerves or from a more sober emotion she couldn’t tell. She brought a hand up to his hair regardless, smoothing and tucking the dark waves back behind one lightly pointed ear.

Their lips slid together softly like that for a long moment. Eventually she felt Geraldus relaxing against her mouth. But his frame still hovered over her, as if he wasn’t sure where to put his weight.

Without breaking the kiss, she guided his far arm to her side. Though she’d placed it there herself, the feel of his large palm pressing against her waist stirred a pleasant warmth in her belly. She clasped both hands behind his neck, encouraging him to lean down further over her while they kissed.

When he left his lips parted for a few seconds, she took the chance to gently touch her tongue to his. Geraldus made a soft, eager sound against her, returning the gesture with enthusiasm. His mouth was warm and sweet and tasted of rich Amnian wine.

While kissing him was lovely, she was increasingly curious to know how else she might take this poor boy’s mind off his apparent troubles. When she pulled away, Geraldus’s face trailed after hers as though reluctant to end the kiss.

“Would you like me to kiss you anywhere else, darling?”

Geraldus blinked down at her, perhaps thrown by the pet name. “Where else is there?”

It brought a laugh from her, and she curled her fingers through the dark locks behind his neck. “You really don’t know how this works, do you.”

His eyes widened with a nervousness that only confirmed her suspicions. 

“I've been with a woman before,” he answered defensively. 

“Oh?” She continued petting his hair, keeping her tone light and unteasing. “Have you been kissed other places, then? By men or women?”

From there, it was easy to suss out the exact limits of his experience. It came as no shock that no one had ever put their lips anywhere but his mouth. Not his neck, his chest, his cock—that last fact she withheld her kisses from him until he admitted, flushing profusely right up to his dark hair all the while. 

She found herself speaking more plainly than usual. “Geraldus, first I’d like to help you out of these clothes. Then I’d like to suck you off before I ride you. How does that sound?”

That had most certainly broken him. He stammered and blushed somehow darker; she could practically feel the heat radiating off his face above hers.

Finally, he managed a breathless response of “yes, please.”

She drew his lips in against hers again as she went to work. She felt him reach a hand to the buckles under his side, but she was already springing them open on both right and left.

“How do you know—” He began, impressed, before quieting as the realization hit him. She slid the leather pieces up over his head and leaned in to give him a quick, enthusiastic kiss. When his linen tunic followed, she kept him held back for a moment with a hand splayed over his sternum.

Gods damn, but they grew them right back in Greenfields. 

Geraldus was broad-shouldered and lean, with firm bands of muscle beneath the pale skin of his arms and chest and stomach. From the sinews in his forearms and the strong cut of his shoulders, she guessed he handled a longbow quite often.

As her eyes raked over him with open appreciation, she caught sight of a shining scar across his left side. Young he may be, but his body already bore evidence of his chosen profession. She reached to brush down the line of it with her fingers; Geraldus shivered but tilted slightly into her hand.

“Didn’t get that shepherding,” she observed.

“No,” Geraldus agreed. He licked his lips again—the gesture was much more intriguing combined with shirtlessness. She hooked her thumbs over the waist of his pants in suggestion.

“Wait,” he requested, his gentle voice trembling again. She watched his eyes moving over the curves under her thin robe. “Can I?”

She leaned back and stretched her arms up over the pillows, arching her back in invitation. 

Slowly and deliberately, as if unwrapping an expensive gift, his fingers reached for the tie at her waist. She watched with satisfaction as he drew the garment open to each side to expose the bare length of her body. His lips parted in admiration as he took her in.

“Can I touch you?” Geraldus asked in a whisper.

“Anywhere you like,” she assured him.

To her delight, Geraldus fell over her and began eagerly exploring her chest with his lips. When his hot mouth closed over the hard peak of one breast, she hummed in approval and ran her nails up through his long hair. It seemed to encourage him; his calloused palm moved to cup the other.

“Tonight’s for you, darling,” she reminded him lazily, not really in a hurry to interrupt him.

He responded between hungry swirls of his tongue. “I’d kiss you here if you’d let me,” he said, and his hand actually slid from her breast to land boldly above the apex of her thighs.

“Absolutely not,” she laughed against his brow. “Gods, you’re unbelievable—how dare those Harpers keep you hidden away so long? Sure you don’t have a little sweetheart in Rivington?”

“Of course not—” There was a wet sound as he released her breast to stare up at her, wide-eyed. “I wouldn’t be here if—if I was—”

She clasped his jaw in a hand to kiss him again, drowning out whatever earnest response he was trying to make to her teasing. “If you’re very, very good tonight, I’ll sit on your pretty face. How about that?”

“Gods,” he groaned, and that pretty face landed between her breasts. “Would you?”

She looked down at him quizzically. “You honestly want to, don’t you?”

His cheeks flushed a deep pink. “Yes,” he admitted.

“As long as you’re a good boy, then,” she told him. With a firm shove, she sent him sitting back on his heels at the end of the bed. “Now take off your pants, Geraldus.”

He scrambled to obey, kicking off his boots before his fingers fumbled at the laces of his trousers. She lay back and watched him with genuine anticipation. From the size of the tent straining at his front, she already suspected that the gods had given to him with both hands.

And what a delightful bit of justice in a harsh world—for young Harper Geraldus to be blessed with such a big cock.

His impressive length stood stiff at attention, skin a lovely smooth pink—and the size of him. Not the biggest she'd had, but much closer than his blushing shyness had led her to believe.

She crooked one finger at him where he stood in a come-hither motion. He crawled up the bed eagerly, but she shifted away to the side at the last minute. “On your back,” she directed him. 

Geraldus obeyed again, his tall frame collapsing into the pillows as he watched her shuck the robe all the way back off her shoulders. She curled up into his side, tracing a finger down the firm, fair planes of his chest and stomach. He shivered under her touch.

Then her fingers closed gently around his base—barely fitting a third of his length in her grip. She pumped him a few slow times from base to tip. It would require most of her creativity to take him, either with her mouth or her cunt.

But if anyone deserved both, it was the young man currently squirming and whining in her bed. She could tell Geraldus was struggling to quell the instinct to thrust up faster into her grip. No doubt trying to be good enough to earn what she’d promised, judging by the way his wide eyes were fixed in anticipation on her face. She clenched her thighs together at the thought of having his eager mouth between them.

“I can see why no one’s put lips to your cock before,” she mused, enjoying the way his dark brows screwed up just from the unhurried strokes of her hand.

“W-why?” His tenor had shot up to a strained pitch. She loosened her grasp completely—it would be too easy to finish him like that.

“You’ve got enough to choke on,” she told him, and climbed between his legs. “But don’t worry, I’m quite good at this.”

Before he could clear his expression from its jumbled mixture of shock and hope, she leaned to take his tip softly over her tongue.

His body made a sharp jackknife at the waist, and Geraldus let out a word much filthier than she expected. But she was ready for his physical reaction—the weight of her forearms on his hips kept them firmly planted into the mattress.

She slid her mouth over him, relaxing her jaw to take him all the way to the back of her throat before releasing everything but the very tip of his cock. She continued the motion several times until saliva trickled down the rest of his length. Then she returned her hand to his base, twisting her grip to meet her lips with each motion.  

She took him just like that, giving attention to his full length, relishing the way his smooth tip bumped the back of her throat with each thrust. He whimpered and begged incoherently above her at the sensations of her mouth and hand taking him in tandem. Could he already be as close as he sounded?

Just as the thought occurred, she felt his legs tense on either side of her own. Almost disappointed, she instantly slid her mouth off him with a wet kiss of release. 

Geraldus made a sound like a sob at the absence. When she glanced up, there were actual tears pricking at the corners of his dark eyelashes.

“Dearest,” she murmured up to him. It was far too tempting to apologize to that face; she placed nipping kisses along his thighs instead. “You deserve to feel my cunt first, don't you think?”

“Yes,” he groaned, obviously trying to master the strain in his voice. It suddenly seemed like a very good time to reward his patience.

“Be a good boy and slide down,” she urged him, already moving up around his straining erection on her knees to straddle his waist.

That brought a spark of hope to his eyes. Geraldus frantically gripped her torso for leverage, tugging her bodily up the bedcovers as he somehow nudged each of his broad shoulders through the gap in her legs. As he settled her above him, he stared up at the slick view between her thighs like a penitent.

“Smack me twice if you can’t breathe,” she told him, giving his dark locks a teasing pull to try and get his attention. The way he nodded left her unconvinced he’d heard.

Deciding he looked ready enough, she lowered herself firmly over his waiting mouth.

For all his obvious inexperience, the instant heat and enthusiasm of his tongue was a pleasant start. Her eyelashes fluttered in satisfaction as he painted firm strokes up her folds, just barely reaching her peak.

“Good,” she praised with a sigh. “Higher—”

He listened attentively despite wearing her thighs clasped around the delicate points of his ears. His hands rose to her hips as he angled his mouth higher, finally hitting the spot where she needed him most. Her toes curled where they were pressed over his biceps.

He was completely unpracticed, but he had good enough instincts to keep the pace steady as she rocked herself against his face. She imagined his hips bucking uselessly into the air behind her, desperate to wet his neglected cock in the folds his tongue was parting.

“Pretty Geraldus,” she sighed, her hand a fist in his dark hair, trying to keep her wits about her as she felt a twitching climax build at her core. “Shall I come on your tongue?”

His eyes flew wide between her legs. In answer, strong forearms gripped tighter over each of her thighs, holding her down onto the now-frantic lapping of his tongue over her slit. She closed her eyes and arched her back against him, giving way to the heat of his mouth desperately sucking and licking her closer to the edge.

With one last tug on his hair, she shuddered against him and rode out her orgasm over his tongue. She felt a gush of arousal from her center flow out over his lips. Geraldus moaned something against her flesh, but the words dissolved into a hum that ran straight to her core and reverberated as another shiver of pleasure up her spine.    

With effort, she pushed herself back to sit on his chest, freeing his arms. Geraldus gasped for air slightly, but his expression was drunk with pleasure and a bit of pride. His mouth and chin were painted wet with her arousal.

“Such a good boy,” she purred in praise. “Getting me ready to take that big cock of yours—” Before he could respond, she reached to swipe her thumb along the wet line of his jaw, then nudged at the juncture of his lips.

He understood immediately, obediently sucking her finger into his mouth and cleaning her release off with his tongue. She felt his hips rocking involuntarily behind her.

With a smooth shift of her weight, she landed with her bare chest pressed to his and pushed her wet slit back against the top of his cock.

“Oh,” Geraldus whined above her, and his beautiful eyes squeezed shut at the feeling. She continued slicking her folds up and down his length to wet him, all the while watching the way his face screwed up as if pained. His fingers flew to grip around hers where they lay over his ribs. 

It was difficult enough to line up her opening with his cock from this angle—let alone while having both hands held hostage under his own. Using his firm stomach as leverage, she pushed up to straddle him against her and then sank down. It seated the tip of him perfectly inside her. 

Just that first stretch was delicious. Geraldus seemed to feel the same; his hands released hers, instead landing on her hips with an enthusiastic squeeze. But he panted obediently under her, eyelids still shut tight, waiting for her to take him further.

Little by little, she eased herself down onto each inch of him, her jaw falling slack as he stretched her walls to their limit. Finally her hips landed to slot against his own. 

She stayed there for a moment, relishing the utter fullness of having his cock entirely buried within her. The ache at her opening was slowly tipping from a twinge of pain to a throb of pleasure.

But she wouldn’t be able to ride him from this angle. Instead, she leaned forward to grasp his strong shoulders and braced her arms straight against them. “Geraldus, look at me.”

His eyes fluttered open then, and landed on her face where it hovered above his. She took in his parted lips, the aquiline line of his nose, the youthful smoothness of his brow marred by a pleading wrinkle as he waited for her to move. And his expressive eyes, which she now decided with certainty were a pretty shade of hazel—currently traveling over her face as if trying to read her thoughts. 

“You are the loveliest man,” she told him with utter sincerity. And I’m going to fuck you until you forget everything but my cunt.

With his eyes still on her, she slid her hips up and back down over his length. A guttural, breathy sound rose straight from his chest. She continued working him in and out of her tight wetness, finding a slow but steady pace that was just barely past the edge of teasing for both of them.

“Oh, Gods—” His hands spasmed against her hips, as if he wanted to bounce her faster on him but wasn’t sure whether it was permitted.

She took the cue herself. She ground her hips into his at a more brisk clip—and bit her lip hard at the sensation of his tip knocking deep inside her with each thrust. At this angle and pace, he filled her to the point of incoherence.

After being taken up to the edge of release by her mouth, she could tell Geraldus was already close again. When her fingers brushed up over his hard nipples, he let out a shuddering whine of pleasure. His hard length twitched against her walls.

At once, she slowed to grind her hips into him, relishing the pressure of his hard cock filling her so fully. He panted at yet another denial, and she felt his calloused fingertips digging into the flesh of her hips. Geraldus gazed up at her with a plea for more.

“Have you been good enough to come in me?” She studied his face unhurried, admiring the way his fair brow screwed up in anguish and pleasure at the question. “What do you think, darling?”

“Yes,” he begged, too sweet to know he was strong enough to fuck her at whatever pace he wanted, even from this angle. “Please, yes, I have—”

She splayed her fingers across his chest, rocking herself deeper atop him. “Ask me for it.”

“Please,” he whined prettily, his eyes shining with tears again. “Please, please, I’ve been good, I swear—Gods, let me come inside you, please—”

He was so earnest, so beyond desperate, it would be unthinkably cruel to deny him. She leaned both hands back on his thighs and rode him hard, using the angle to drive his cock into her center again and again. Stars swelled across her vision; each thrust sent his considerable length pounding against the limits of her insides. She closed her eyes against another rush of pleasure to her core, listening to the sweet way Geraldus whimpered her name.

Large palms pressed hard against her lower back—the angle of him shifted inside her as he leaned up to muffle his sounds into the skin of her breast. Then his arms and legs shuddered as he released inside her, spilling and twitching against her walls. She rode him out through it, as best she could with the way he clutched her to him, wanting him to feel every last scrap of pleasure.

Her own climax hit her like the snap of a bowstring. She found her arms clenching around his shoulders for balance, as if she might tumble away on the wave that rushed through her body. 

Geraldus supported her firmly, sweet thing that he was, holding her tight despite the way his own limbs trembled.

After a while of him holding her straddled on his lap, the pressure between her legs turned to an ache. She stifled a wince as she shifted to slide off him. Even his softening length was a stretch for her tender and likely now bruised insides. She chided herself for riding him so enthusiastically before—she knew better than that. 

As she began to pull away further, Geraldus clutched his arms tight around her back.

“We just need a towel,” she explained, turning to kiss the tip of his ear. “Did you think I was leaving?”

“No,” he lied, growing sheepish again, but his arms loosened to let her up.

She returned with a soft cloth for each of them. He reached for one, but she knelt beside the bed to neatly clean him. Even now, he was still too green to grasp exactly how this all worked.

And the mess between her own legs could wait; by now his release had already dripped out of her to generously coat her thighs.

Once they were both tidy, she rose to her feet and smoothed back a stray lock of his hair. “Would you like me to draw you a bath?”

Geraldus shook his head, looking up at her with sleepy affection.

“Would you like to go to bed, then?”

His eyes filled with innocent delight. “I can stay?”

She considered telling him that after the sum his keepers had no doubt paid, he could do a great many more things with her. But it might be nice to surprise him with that in the morning. 

Instead, she raked her fingers through his hair and tilted his face up for a soft kiss. “Of course, darling.”

She moved on rather unsteady legs to snuff all the candles, then helped guide him under the covers through the dark. 

When it came to sleeping, she didn’t usually care to share her bed with others. Tonight she found herself in an unusually generous mood. Geraldus was long-limbed and full of wiry muscle, yet every bit as gentle as a lamb. 

As she settled herself under the blankets, he notched his face up against her shoulder and rested an arm securely across her middle. She leaned her cheek against his dark hair like a pillow. The feel of being weighed down by his body against her side was comforting in a way she didn’t expect.

“I love you,” Geraldus abruptly sighed against her neck.

She let out a sleepy breath of laughter that ruffled the locks of his hair. 

“No you don’t,” she told him gently, and pressed a kiss to his brow. “You just really, really needed that.”

[el-tur-el]

like a heathen clung to the homily.

Pairing: Harper Geraldus x F!Tav

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content. 18+, Minors DNI.

Word Count: 1,102. Read it on AO3.

Little bit of a schedule swap - Rolan piece should be up on Sunday. Have this in the meantime, the brain bees said 'must write sad wet cat man'. (This is not the fic I have planned that involves edging, that will be coming later.)

Warmth. Patchouli and some kind of flower that she doesn’t know the name of, essential oils pooling in little slicks on the surface of the water. She sees herself in them, iridescent and raw, constantly changing shape. Home can be whatever you make it; she learned that during her time fighting the Illithid threat, when it came in the form of purple robes, of quietly murmured prayers. Of the flash of a silver sword, the peek of fangs from between pouty lips. The most elegant horns she had ever seen. The smell of peat moss and petrichor. Brimstone and something sweet.

It looks a little different now. A solid torso, a wiry frame; his back pressed against her stomach, his head tilted against her shoulder. His eyes are closed, and she can’t help but think that it was all worth it. For this. Just this. To be able to hold him, to be able to contort herself into the shape of his home.

She loves him, she loves him, she loves him.

She presses her lips to the crown of his head, and he smiles, slow and lazy. Sweet in that sort of way that makes her heart seize up behind her sternum. He deserves the world - she only wishes a human being could be capable of offering up something of that magnitude. She would move mountains. She would write sonnets. She’d kiss every freckle, trace the constellations mapped out on his skin, document them all to memory.

What a beautiful, fragile thing a heart is. What a privilege to be able to cradle one in your hands.

“I love you.” She murmurs against the soft black of his hair, slick with sweat and water and oils that were far, far too expensive. Indulgence breeds complacency, but he’s worth it. “Can I take care of you, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” He rasps, all wet-eyed wonder, thick and tempting, pools of honey.

Her palm splays out flat between his pectorals, soapy and damp, and she drags it down the dip and curve of his stomach, his flanks. Past his navel and southward, to somewhere warmer. Yielding. Her fingers loosely wrap around his cock, and she swears she will take him apart piece by piece with the reverence he deserves.

He lets out a shuddering breath, tilting his head to press his lips against the soft column of her throat. Such a pretty thing, soft and pliable against her. Malleable like clay, something to shape with her hands, make and unmake. She moves, slow, and he whines against her skin. She could bottle that sound. Drink it down every night. Headier than wine. Sweeter than mead.

“So good for me.” She breathes out, praise and prayer all in one. “Just like that, sweetheart. Look at you.”

His hips shift against her grip, the water in the tub sloshing with the movement. She’ll have to wipe up the floors later, but she cares little; another act of tenderness, another reminder of a love that she never once thought she’d be blessed with.

“Tav.”

“I’ve got you, lovely.” She moves at an achingly slow pace. There’s no rush anymore. Not now, not here, in this space she’s made for him. In the yawning canyon of tenderness that she’s so carefully crafted. A house of worship. A church, an altar, a prayer. Communion.

He’s always been a restless thing, and this time is no different; squirming against her, pushing up into her hand. Needy. Wanton. Debauched. She studies his face, the furrow of his brow, the bow of his lips. Memorizes it, pockets it for later. Savors every little detail, every whine, every moan.

“Does that feel good, Geraldus?” Something about this man, this bright and beautiful and brilliant man, has put her in a state of perpetual motion. The movement of her lips wrapping around every syllable, the innate need to be touching him at all times. Frenetic and frenzied in her need to prove devotion.

“Y-Yes, Tav, Gods.” His voice cracks, trembles. A low heat pools in her stomach. “I want - I -”

“Anything.” She whispers, and she means it.

“I want you, please.”

And really, truly, who is she to say no to that.

She’s silently grateful that she splurged on the ornate tub for their home, nearly the size of a pool; one of the few things she’d allowed herself to be selfish about. He gently disentangles himself from her grasp, turning over so he’s facing her, his cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink. He presses his lips to hers like it’s the first time. Does this every time. Still so soft and unsure of himself, even now.

Her hands come to his shoulder blades, and she sighs into the tentative press of his mouth as he pushes into her. She feels weightless, here, underneath him, the heat of the water around them. He traces a fingertip between the valley of her breasts, down to her hip bone. Exploratory. Cartography. Venturing landscapes made of flesh and breath. Two fingers slowly press against her clit as he ruts into her - shallow, languid.

It is not heat and fire and fury. It is home.

“I love you.” He sighs, his forehead pressing against hers.

Even now, with him settled against her, she is sick with yearning. It’s cloying and syrupy and saccharine, the way she loves him. Her friends regularly rib her about it. But she doesn’t care.

Happy. For the first time in a very, very long time.

His breathing grows ragged, his noises a little breathier, a little higher. Her muscles tense, anticipation thrumming under the surface of paper-thin skin, bursting at the seams. To watch him unspool like embroidery thread, to hold the weight of him against her as he falls apart.

“I’ve got you.” She breathes out again. “Let go for me, sweet thing.”

He shakes against her, a thin, high whimper spilling past his lips. His fingers press against her clit a little more firmly, still so eager to please even as he dissolves into little more than broken sounds before her. She keens, heat rushing through her veins, spilling forth. Her head tilts back and her eyes flutter shut, caught between the here and not, weightless.

They settle against one another, arms wrapping around skin spattered with rivulets of water, his face tucked into the crook of her neck.

Would that she were a church, so that she may bless and keep him always.

The silk swallows her up that evening. The thought haunts her, rattles about her mind.

Milk and honey. A crown of thistle and thorn. Royalty. Deity. Lover.

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Click My Heels But I Am Stuck Here - Epilogue

Pairing: Rolan x Tav

Work Summary:

Rolan is battered, beaten and exhausted. After everything he’s been through to get to Baldur’s Gate, he still has no reprieve from violence and prejudice.

But wouldn’t it just be so sweet to fuck his master’s pretty little wife?

AU where Tav is Lorroakan’s wife.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Epilogue

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1652

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

Notes: It's been a wild ride folks. Hope you enjoyed :) I have a whole queue of fics that I've been neglecting to focus on this one, so it might be a little while before I write Rolan x Tav again, but I do have plans for the future, and perhaps I could be persuaded to expedite them <3

---

Two Years Later

Tav’s boots were muddy, but she could see Baldur’s Gate in the distance. She was bone-tired, and on any other day, she would concede to Jaheira’s suggestion that they should make camp for the night and continue their journey tomorrow morning.

But she needed to see Rolan. It had been almost two months since she’d last seen him, and the distance was starting to ache in her chest. More than that, she had something important to tell him.

Lia and Geraldus were both on board, so they left their fellow Harpers in a clearing in the woods and began the five-mile trek home. Jaheira had pursed her lips, but not argued. This last stretch of road was very safe, and the three of them were well-armed in any case.

“Are you sure you’re alright to keep walking?” asked Lia, looking at Tav anxiously. Her eyes darted to Tav’s stomach, which was covered by armour, so she wouldn’t have been able to see anything even if there was anything to see.

She hadn’t actually told Lia anything, but her sister-in-law could be annoyingly perceptive when she wanted to be. These last few days of travel had been slow going, because Tav had been ill.

At the last town they’d passed through, she had gone for a private appointment with a cleric, and emerged with more than just potions for her nausea. She was sure that Lia had probably figured it out then, if she hadn’t already.

“I’m fine,” said Tav. “I just want to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“Me too,” said Geraldus.

“Cal’s bed, you mean,” said Lia, poking him in the arm.

“Hush, you.” In the early stages of their relationship, Geraldus probably would’ve chuckled and blushed at the gentle ribbing from his boyfriend’s sister, but they’d been together for almost a year and a half now, and he’d also spent almost as much time with Lia as he had with Cal at this point.

When Tav and Lia had initially joined the Harpers, Cal had briefly considered joining too, but decided the adventurer’s life was not for him. He would much rather help Rolan tend Sorcerous Sundries and stay in the relative safety of Baldur’s Gate.

Privately, Tav knew that he was also staying to make sure Rolan wasn’t alone. She was glad. She would never have been able to go on such long missions if she knew that Rolan didn’t have anyone watching over him and making sure he was eating.

“Excited to get home to your husband?” Geraldus asked her.

She gave him a weak smile. Three years ago, the question would’ve made her blanche. But Rolan was not Lorroakan. The plan gold wedding band he’d given her didn’t weigh her down like the gaudy thing that she’d had from Lorroakan.

Still, she hadn’t expected marriage to feel so natural this time around. She hadn’t expected to want it, no matter how much she loved Rolan.

But about six months ago, it had come up in conversation, and she realised that marrying him didn’t terrify her the way she’d thought it would. In fact, the idea of calling him her husband was very appealing.

Within a month, they were married. It was a small ceremony with just their closest friends, and his siblings. Afterwards, they’d all had a very merry evening at the Elfsong Tavern. It was perfect.

“I’m hoping he’ll help me with my hair,” she said, lightly touching her braid. “All these weeks on the road haven’t been good for it. And Rolan gives excellent head-”

“I don’t want to hear about that!” Lia interrupted.

“Head massages! Don’t be crass!”

The three of them descended into laughter. It made the long walk a little easier.

It was past midnight by the time they made it to Ramazith’s tower. All three of them were excluded from the extensive wards that kept the tower safe, so they walked in with little fanfare.

The lights were on in the kitchen. That was where the three of them found Cal and Rolan, playing some kind of intricate card game. Myshka was curled up on Rolan’s lap, but as soon as he saw Tav, he leapt into her arms.

“MERMER!” he cried, nuzzling into her neck immediately. She had cast Speak with Animals in preparation for this very moment.

“Hi there, baby,” she murmured, scratching under his chin. Suddenly, she was being lifted off her feet. Myshka was sandwiched between her chest and Rolan’s as he embraced them both.

“Tav…” Rolan sounded breathlessly exhilarated. “I didn’t know you would be home tonight…”

“But you stayed up anyway,” she said as he set her back on her feet.

“Well, I did hope.”

“He stayed up last night too,” Cal chimed in from where he was entangled in Geraldus’ embrace.

“Shut up, Cal.”

“I suppose neither of my brothers are all that happy to see me. The perils of being a fifth wheel,” said Lia pointedly, walking over to the stove.

There was a pot of soup that was slowly simmering. She grabbed herself a bowl and began to spoon soup into it, but almost spilled it all over herself when Cal hugged her from behind.

“I missed you too, Lia,” he said.

Looking a little chastened, Rolan released Tav to go and embrace his sister as well.

“How was your trip?” Cal asked cheerfully.

“Long,” said Tav. “I really need a bath.” She tugged her braid loose from its tie, letting her tangled hair cascade over her shoulders.

“I’m sure I can manage that,” said Rolan.

“Cal, Geraldus,” said Lia suddenly. “Will you help me with my bags? I left some stuff downstairs that needs bringing up.

“What bags?” asked Geraldus, confused, but she elbowed him in the ribs. “Right, of course, let’s go.”

And then Tav and Rolan were alone. Tav was sure there were no bags to be brought up. Lia was just giving them an excuse to be alone.

Rolan put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arms’ length as he surveyed her.

“You’re looking well,” he said. “Lots of colour in your cheeks. That’s good to see. Being a Harper is good for you, as much as I hate to be away from you.”

She knew that he was downplaying his own feelings. Cal had once told her that her long absences were hard on Rolan. He feared for her safety, and he missed her deeply.

He would never tell her the full extent of his feelings though. He didn’t want to pressure her into putting his needs over her own.

“I never want to be away for that long again,” she said, and it was true.

She loved the thrill of adventure, but the tower was her home. Gone were the traces of Lorroakan that had haunted the place. With a combination of magic and interior design, they had made this place into a home for themselves.

“And I doubt I’ll be leaving Baldur’s Gate again any time soon. I’m going to be taking a little bit of a leave of absence, from fieldwork at least. With the resources we have at our disposal here, I can still make a difference without putting myself on the frontline.”

Rolan swallowed. “Really?” There was a quiet, but obvious spark of hope in his tone. “Tired of adventuring already?”

“Well, it’s more that I think it’s probably too dangerous for me right now, in my condition.”

“Condition?” he asked, drawing his eyebrows together in confusion.

She took his hand and guided it to her belly. In the last leg of the journey, she’d removed some of her armour, leaving her in a loose-fitting tunic. His eyes widened as understanding dawned on his face.

“You’re- We’re-” he stammered, disbelieving.

“Pregnant? Yes.”

“Gods, Tav.” He dropped to his knees and pressed his face into her clothed stomach. She put her arms around him, a laugh bubbling up in her chest.

“Are you…” A hint of nervousness entered her tone. “Happy to hear that?”

“I’m elated,” he said. “Are you?”

“I never thought I would want this,” she said. “I vowed to never give Lorroakan a child, so I thought that was it for me. But I want this with you. I want to have your child.”

“Tav…” Tears were rolling down Rolan’s cheeks. He pressed a kiss to her stomach. “I love you so much.

“I love you too.” She smoothed her fingers into his hair, loosening it from the hair tie that was holding it in place. He didn’t protest, still pressing his face against her.

That was how Cal, Lia and Geraldus found them a few minutes later, with him still on his knees, holding her. Lia let out an excited yelp as she took in the scene.

Rolan got to his feet quickly, embarrassed. “Should we tell them?” he whispered to Tav.

“I think Lia already knows. So I think it’s only fair.”

“Alright.” He nodded.

“We’re having a baby,” she said, and Cal almost knocked her off her feet as he pulled her into a hug.  

“I knew it,” she hear Lia shriek, and chuckled into the material of Cal’s shirt. Rolan was hovering behind her, a protective hand on her lower back. As soon as Cal moved out of the way, Lia took his place, throwing her arms around Tav’s neck. “I’m so happy for you two.” She pulled back and held Tav’s face in her hands. “You’re brilliant, you know that? Your kid is going to be a superstar.”

“Our kid is going to have the best aunt and uncles in the world,” said Tav.

Lia turned to Rolan. “You’d better get to work, the mother of your unborn child wants a bath.”

“With rose petals,” Tav supplied.

“She wants rose petals,” said Lia, helpfully.

“I suppose I better get on that,” said Rolan, kissing Tav’s temple. “Anything for you.”

---

Notes:

fic title is from Black Ink Revenge by Automatic Loveletter

"Don't you let 'em know you're dying, dying Dying to break out Dying to get, get, get out Through the window of the upstairs Click my heels but I am stuck here"

[forgeofthenine]

Rolan x Geraldus is a new one for me, but in one of the discord servers I’m in there’s a big support for Cal x Geraldus (rarepairs forever)

Cal x Geraldus actually seems so sweet now that I think about it! Geraldus is so meek to start with though still very ambitious. Cal has such an even temperament and already knows how best to handle people with lofty ambitions (thank you Rolan)

Pairing the two together I feel like it would help them build each other up without too much clashing of personalities. The more I consider this, the more I love it. Thanks for bringing this rarepair to my attention anon!

[voloslobotomyservice]

wip whenever

tagged by @commander-krios @my-favourite-zhent@rolansrighthorn

tagging @dustdeepsea and @wanderingisobel bc I know they're cooking something good

this is actually from chapter 2 of an upcoming fic featuring Geraldus x Named Tav, where Estrelle, a Cleric of Selune, meets Geraldus before the events of the game.

(yes I'm still working on Killing Me Softly don't worry! hoping to get the next chapter out next week)

this is very much a work in progress so pls be kind

Estrelle sighed deeply into her empty wine glass. Her sponsor, Faelynn, had convinced her to celebrate her induction at the Elfsong, her treat. She was more than happy to drink to her success, but after finishing her first glass, her mind filled with clouds of doubt.  The thoughts trickled in like rain, contrasting the late summer sun shining through the windows: Did she make the right choice? Was it worth it to risk her life to keep the city she loved safe? Would she make the citizens of Baldur’s Gate proud? In fact, would she make her parents proud? “Done already?” A half-elf asked, pulling Estrelle out of her thoughts. She sat across her in the booth, tankard freshly filled. “It usually takes you years to finish a glass.” “And you’re on your third drink, Faelynn.” She chuckled, lifting her empty glass and tapping the rim against the tankard. “Try not to go too wild tonight, hm?” “But we’re celebrating!” Faelynn exclaimed before taking a large swig of her ale. “If anyone should be getting drunk, it should be the new Harper Elle!” “I think I’ll pace myself tonight, thank you.” The last thing she wanted was for more intrusive thoughts to fill up her mind. Or to be sloppy drunk in the streets of the city she swore to protect.  “Suit yourself,” Faelynn shrugged, “but I hope you know how proud I am. You’re gonna do great work in the Harpers, kiddo.” “Likewise.” she smiled before bringing her glass to her lips, forgetting it was empty. The half-elf’s eyebrows raised in amusement. “Aye, looks like you need that second drink, eh?” She laughed before taking a few more sips of her own drink. “I’ll get you another once mine is done” “Thank you, Fae. You’re too good to me.” Estrelle let her eyes wander around the Elfsong, glancing over from one person to the next. It was always interesting to spy on the different patrons and predict why they were there. For example, the couple at the table next to hers was most certainly a man with his elven mistress. The elderly man was trying to hide his face from most of the other patrons, and the woman looked much, much younger than him.  Though elves do live much longer than humans, she thought, so maybe it’s not as taboo as it seems.  Then, on the other side of the tavern, a blonde man looked to be crying tears into his drink, his face rather forlorn. Perhaps he was dumped by his lover, or maybe his mother had passed away. Either way, probably not the healthiest way to handle his emotions. And at the bar sat a young, handsome half-elf, with raven hair that settled just above his shoulders… Wait a minute… is that… She squinted, trying to make out the details of his side profile. Sure enough, she saw his big, hazel eyes, shimmering in the dim tavern lighting. Geraldus?!

[russica]

Like Harper Geraldus? Did that fic by Isntthatrightzach on AO3 hook you on RolanxGeraldus???? Here ya go lol

[rolansrighthorn]

Songfic Tag Game!

Pick a song to accompany each of your fics or as many as you like. This might be the fic's inspiration or just pure vibes that you'd like to share with readers. Tag as many people as fics you feature (or do as you please).

I have been on a Mitski kick so all of these are going to be Mitski songs lmao.

Apologies Aren't Enough (Rugan x Rue (OC) x Geraldus):

I Will- Mitski

I will take good care of you I will take good care of you Everything you feel is good If you would only let you I will wash your hair at night And dry it off with care I will see your body bare And still I will live here

Only Together, With You (Rolan x Daryna (OC)):

Come Into The Water- Mitski

I didn't know I had a dream I didn't know until I saw you So would you tell me if you want me? 'Cause I can't movie until you show me

Tender For You (Geraldus x Willow (OC)) (unpublished as of posting this):

First Love/Late Spring- Mitski So please hurry leave me, I can't breathe Please don't say you love me 胸がはち切れそうで (My heart feels like it's going to burst)

Another Chance At Love (Rolan x Penelope (OC)):

Once More To See You- Mitski If you would let me give you pinky promises kisses Then I wouldn't have to scream your name Atop of every roof in the city of my heart If I could see you Once more to see you

Tagged by @dustdeepsea

Tagging @underdark-dreams @thisaccountisagainstmywill @voloslobotomyservice and anyone else who wants to do it!

[bxttxrflybxddie]

Beautiful Sad, Wet Eyes

Headcanons

Dating Geraldus

Imagines

Kinktober Day 4: Praise

© BXTTXRFLYBXDDIE

[redroomroaving]

"...did, did I get it right?"

"That was clever - with the code - way to keep your head, recruit."

Harper Bor x Harper Geraldus

(Blame @captainsigge for "so what if Bor met Geraldus" and the ensuing problem we now have.)

[redroomroaving]

Yes and thank you

[neontokyoo]

How many characters can we request for headcanons? Would you do the same prompt with different characters? Can we request for gender neutral reader? Are there any characters you won't do in each fandom? Can we request Baldur's Gate 3 Geraldus, Cal, Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor? Can we request characters from different fandoms in a request? Are there any dark topics you won't do like rape, suicide, etc? Do you do poly ships x reader? Would you mind if we request for Alternate Universes or Aus like AU where the character lives happily? Would you mind if the request is suggestive, implied sex, or mentioned sex but no explicit sex? For Baldur's Gate 3 requests, would you mind if we don't specify the race/class to leave it ambiguous or if we ask specify the race/class like human/healer? What kinks would you accept for requests? Can anons request smut? Can we check with you if you received our requests? Thank you in advance!

You can request as many characters as you want for headcanons, but it may take longer for me to post them if there’s a lot of characters to write for.

would love to do the same prompts for different characters.

I do write for gender neutral readers, unless I’m writing smut or someone specifically requested a female reader.

I write for literally everyone for the fandoms I write for. Except for maybe Cazador because if characters are problematic, I prefer not to write for them.

You can request anyone you want except for Cazador.

I don’t do crossovers so I won’t write for different characters from different fandoms in one post.

I won’t write about dark topics such as rape/non-con, suicide, etc., but I can mention them depending on the request.

don’t do poly ships just because I find it hard to write about more than 2 people being in a relationship.

I really don’t mind writing for AUs. If you have an AU you’d like me to write, don’t hesitate to send it to me.

I will write suggestive content, but you would have to specify that in the request, or I would probably end up writing smut.

Race/class doesn’t matter unless the request specifically asks for a certain race/class.

I accept most kinks as long as they’re harmless. I won’t write about weapon or food-play or anything like that.

Anons can request anything they want, including smut.

yes, you can check in to see if I got your request! Some requests I won’t do if I don’t want to, and I’ll let you know. But sometimes my inbox glitches and requests don’t always show up, so feel free to check in with me!

I hope this helps, and I will make sure to add these to my rules because these were really amazing questions! Thank you for asking!

[el-tur-el]

Poll time! What would you like to see from me next? (I wrote two NSFW fics and now that seems to be all my brain can come up with, so, sorry about that.)

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Click My Heels But I Am Stuck Here - Chapter Nine

Pairing: Rolan x Tav

Work Summary:

Rolan is battered, beaten and exhausted. After everything he’s been through to get to Baldur’s Gate, he still has no reprieve from violence and prejudice.

But wouldn’t it just be so sweet to fuck his master’s pretty little wife?

AU where Tav is Lorroakan’s wife.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Epilogue

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3962

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

Notes:

final chapter! stay tuned for the epilogue, should hopefully be up this week. Thank you for coming on this journey with me.

---

When Geraldus had run into the refugee camp, telling Cal and Lia to come quickly and bring their things, Lia hadn’t expected this. Ramazith’s tower belonged to Tav and Rolan now. They had a home, finally.

Rolan had offered his siblings their choice of bedrooms. Every single one of them was larger than any of their rooms back home. No more sleeping in tents.

It hadn’t taken Lia long to unpack her belongings. Between the fall of Elturel and months on the road, everything she owned could fit into a rucksack.

She chose a bedroom with its own small balcony that overlooked the city. Cal took the one right next door, although there were plenty of other options. She had to admit that it felt good to have him close. She needed to know he was safe. Perhaps a few months down the line, they would be squabbling and getting in each other’s way, but right now, she was grateful.

The sun was just setting when she stepped out into the hallway. The tower’s ceilings were incredibly high. Lia wondered how they dealt with cobwebs. Magic, probably.

Ramazith’s tower was so large that she was afraid she might get lost, but she really wanted to explore all the same. She wandered in the general direction that she’d come from, poking her head into any room with an open door.

There were a lot of magical artifacts. Rolan had warned her not to touch anything until he was sure it was safe, but she had to admit she was tempted. It would surely take him months, if not years, to catalogue everything here.

She slipped into a room. It was dark and dusty inside. As far as she could tell, it was a disused office or study, but it was admittedly hard to tell, as a lot of random items appeared to have been stored here.

She dragged her fingertip across the desk, taking off a thick layer of dust and revealing the mahogany underneath. Behind her, something creaked.

The last year of her life had sharpened her senses and her reactions, so she spun on the spot, but there was no need to fear. Tav’s cat, Myshka, was sitting in the doorway, his bright blue eyes fixed on Lia. His tail flicked from side to side, seemingly agitated.

“Are you going to tell on me?” she asked him. He stared back, uncomprehending.

Distantly, she heard Tav’s voice calling out, “Myshka?”

The cat didn’t move. It was watching Lia. Nervous, she took a step towards him, and he stood up. Once he seemed certain that she was following him, he walked out into the hallway. She stepped out behind him, leaving the door ajar, just as Tav rounded the corner.

“Oh, there you are,” she said, looking at Myshka. The cat meowed and sprinted towards her. She opened her arms and he leapt into them. She hugged him to her chest and then turned to Lia. “Are you alright? You look out of sorts.”

Lia swallowed. After everything she had been through, it was hard to turn off the part of her brain that told her she was in danger.

Tav was no danger to her. By all accounts, she was a kind and gentle woman. A kind and gentle woman who had just murdered her own husband.

Lia shook her head slightly. Lorroakan was a monster. Tav had done the world a favour when she’d stabbed him through the heart.

“I’m fine,” said Lia. “Just… looking around.”

Myshka meowed, and Tav stroked his head. “Don’t mind Myshka,” she said. “He has trust issues. Feed him some meat and he’ll warm right up to you.”

“Right…”

“Are you hungry? Rolan has an Unseen Servant working in the kitchen. I’m sure it could whip us up something.”

“I am. Very hungry, actually.” Hot meals were few and far between at the refugee camp. She wasn’t sure that she’d truly felt full since the time the four of them had met at the Elfsong.

“Come with me, I’ll show you to the kitchen.”

Tav filled the silence as they walked together, half with comments to Lia and half mumbled baby talk to Myshka, who was still lounging in her arms.

Apparently, Tav was very glad to have the use of the Unseen Servant. When Lorroakan was alive, she had done most of the chores herself, but Rolan had promised her that that wasn’t going to happen anymore.

“What are you hungry for?” she asked as she opened the door into the kitchen. “We have a very well-stocked pantry.”

“Something hot. And filling.”

Tav grinned at her. “I’m sure we can rustle something like that up. I personally have a hankering for a beef stew. Does that sound good?”

Lia’s stomach rumbled. “That sounds amazing.”

She waited as Tav relayed her instructions to the Unseen Servant. As soon as she was done, she said, “Come, let’s go and sit in the dining room.”

The dining room was just as grand and palatial as she’d expected. There was a huge, throne-like chair at the head of the table, but Tav just pushed it out of the way to put a more modest chair in that spot. Myshka leapt from her arms and settled himself down on the throne.

“We’re going to need to get a lot of new furniture,” she said. “I’m not sitting like a pretty little ornament at a man’s side ever again, even if it is a man I love this time.”

“Are you talking about Rolan or Myshka?” asked Lia with a wry smile.

“Both of them.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“Oh! Wine! That’s what we’re missing. Take a seat, I’ll be right back.”

Feeling awkward, Lia sat down in the seat beside the head of the table. As promised, Tav was back a moment later with a bottle of wine and several goblets.

“Red?”

“Yes please.”

Lia watched Tav’s face as she poured the wine. For a split second, she caught a slight tremor in her hands. Tav was nervous. Her frenetic talkativeness made that clear.  That, conversely, put Lia more at ease.

“I hope that this goes without saying,” said Tav, “But please help yourself to anything in the pantry. This is your home now too, after all.”

“Thank you. I really don’t have words for how grateful I am.”

Tav chuckled awkwardly and took a sip of her wine. “I don’t need gratitude. It was enough seeing the look on Rolan’s face when you arrived. He really loves you and Cal.”

“We really love him too.”

The wine made conversation a little easier. Tav settled into the seat opposite Lia’s, and they chatted until two bowls of stew floated out of the kitchen towards them.

It was piping hot, with rich chunks of meat and dumplings floating in it. Lia tried to be polite, but she was ravenous. Tav had barely eaten half of hers by the time Lia had finished. Still, Tav called for the Unseen Servant to bring her another bowl.

Lia might’ve been embarrassed but Tav was good humoured about it. After months of too-small-portions and whatever scraps that Cal and Lia could scavenge or buy for themselves, this was heavenly.

“We should go back to the Elfsong sometime,” said Tav. “Now that I have no one to stop me.” There was a sad look in her eye that was gone almost as soon as it arrived. She turned and grinned at Lia. “Maybe Cal can invite Geraldus.”

Lia stifled a laugh. “I’ll see if I can persuade him. I’m sure he’d-”

She was interrupted by the door to the hallway opening. Standing in the doorway was a human man that Lia didn’t recognise. He was middle-aged, fairly short, with greying, dark brown hair.

“Tavya,” he said, and Tav was on her feet at once, upending her bowl of stew. Lia jumped to her feet to avoid the splashback.

“What are you doing here?” There was a tremor in Tav’s tone. Whether it was from anger or fear, Lia couldn’t tell.

“I heard what happened to Lorroakan,” said the man, stepping towards Tav, who took a step back. “You’re not safe here.” His eyes darted to Lia. “If he’s willing to kill Lorroakan, imagine what he would do to you.”

“He?”

“That bloody hellspawn that moved into Lorroakan’s tower and murdered him!”

Lia tensed. She was no stranger to slurs being thrown her way, but after the delicious food and good conversation, this was giving her emotional whiplash. Her hands curled into fists.

“Don’t call him that!” Tav snarled. “And for your information, Rolan didn’t kill Lorroakan. I did.”

The man faltered. “Tavya, please, don’t say such things. I’m trying to help you.”

“You’ve never given a damn about me, father, or else you wouldn’t have sold me to Lorroakan.”

Everything clicked into place. Tavya had mentioned her father while they were at the Elfsong, but hadn’t gone into detail. There wasn’t much family resemblance, but they did have the same dark brown eyes.

“You never cared about my safety when Lorroakan was beating and raping me.” Her tone was chilling. Lia had gathered that her marriage to Lorroakan had not been a happy one, but she hadn’t known the full extent of his abuse. She looked at Tav sympathetically, but Tav’s attention was fixed on her father, eyes ablaze. “I begged you for your help then, and you refused me. What kind of father does that? You left me to rot with that monster! You’re not my father! I hate you even more than I hated him!”

Angry tears were rolling down Tav’s cheeks now. Her shouts must’ve echoed through the halls, because a moment later, Rolan appeared at the door, looking out of breath. His gazed homed in on Tav’s father immediately.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, incredulous. “How did you get in?”

“Through the front door,” said the man. “It wasn’t locked.”

“There are supposed to be wards up to stop people from getting in without permission.” Rolan sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I suppose they died with Lorroakan. I’ll have to get started on putting them back up.”

“Look at you,” said Tav’s father, glaring at Rolan. “Lording about the place already, when your master’s body is barely cold.”

Rolan opened his mouth to speak, but Tav was already crossing the distance between them. She slapped her father hard across the face, the resounding smack echoing throughout the high-ceilinged room.

Her father blinked at her, cheek reddening. “You insolent little whore,” he said, “I ought to-” He raised his hand, but Rolan cast Hold Person on him before he could do anything else.

“I ought to kill you.” She let out a hollow laugh, staring at her father’s frozen face. “But there has been enough bloodshed today. This is your one warning. As soon as Rolan releases you, you’re going to leave this tower. If you try anything, I’ll kill you the way I killed Lorroakan. With a knife to the heart.” She reached out to Rolan, and he took her hand. “Rolan is a far stronger wizard than Lorroakan ever was. So I advise that you walk away and never come back here. Is that understood?”

Her father stared back at her, unable to speak.

“And if you ever try to make trouble for me and mine again, I will make sure you pay for it. Because I’m not alone anymore. Not like I was when you sold me into this life. I have powerful friends now.”

She gave Rolan a small nod, and he released the spell. Tav’s father stumbled forward, clutching his chest. He looked up at Tav desperately, but didn’t move.

“You can leave through the front door, or through the window. Your choice,” she said.

Begrudgingly, he turned to walk away.

“I’ll see you out,” said Rolan. “I need to put up those wards anyway.” He squeezed Tav’s hand and then let her go, following her father from the room.

And then Lia and Tav were alone again. Tav let out a soft laugh that turned into a sob.

“Are you alright?” asked Lia.

“I need more wine.”

*

Later that evening found Rolan, Tav, Cal and Lia on the dining room’s balcony. It was large enough for several benches around a low table. The balcony itself overlooked the city, and beyond it, the Chionthar. In the distance, they could see the domed roof of Sorcerous Sundries.

Tav was sharing a bench with Rolan. She let her head fall onto his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut. Rolan put his arm around her, ignoring the stares of his siblings.

“It’s been a long day,” said Cal. “Perhaps we should all get some rest?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” said Tav sleepily. “I killed my husband today.” Surprised at her bluntness, Lia laughed. Tav was evidently still adjusting to this new situation. “But yes, you’re right. I should go to bed.”

She got to her feet, pulling her hair back into a loose bun as she did so. She looked at Rolan, who was sitting awkwardly, unsure if he should follow.

“You wanna come with me?” she asked, a shy smile on her face.

“Of course.”

It was what he’d been hoping for. He hadn’t wanted to assume that she’d be happy to share her bed with him. Perhaps after Lorroakan she might want to be alone. But she reached out her hand to him, and he took it.

He bid goodnight to his siblings, and then the two of them made their way down the corridors to Tav’s room.

Once they crossed the threshold of the room, Tav wasted no time in getting undressed. The door had barely closed behind them before she threw herself at him, her bare body pressed against his clothed one.

“Zurgan, Tav,” he cursed as her hands fumbled with the fastenings of his robe. “There’s no rush.”

“Not for you, maybe,” she said. “But if you’re not inside me in thirty seconds I swear I’m going to cry.”

He chuckled as she grew frustrated with the amount of clothing he was wearing, and instead opted to grab his hand and guide it between her thighs.

He spread her lower lips with his fingers, feeling the wetness there. Her eyes fell shut, and she leant against him, letting him support the weight of her body.

Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he leant down and kissed her rounded ear.

“We have time, my love,” he murmured. She shivered at the feeling of his hot breath against her ear.

“I know we do,” she said, softly. “But for the first time in my life I’m actually getting what I want. It’s intoxicating. I want you so bad.”

With the hand that wasn’t playing with her pussy, he swiped a fingertip between the cheeks of her arse, relishing the high-pitched squeak she let out as he did.

“Go lie down, love,” he said. “Let me take care of you.”

These were the moments he really cherished. As he stripped off his own clothes, he watched her make herself comfortable on the bed. Her pale skin was smattered with freckles, and he wanted to map every one of them with his tongue.

He took his time with her, the way he’d never had the opportunity to before. Taking her foot into his hand, he laid a kiss on the inside of her ankle, and then further down her calf. As he reached her knee, she grabbed at his horn, but he ignored her urgings, moving instead to her other ankle.

Slowly, he moved himself between her legs. His hands smoothed over the muscles of her thighs, rubbing out the tension in them. As he worked on them, he listened to her breathing slow and her body grow more lax.

“Are you falling asleep??” he asked, pressing teasing kisses to her thighs.

“Noooo,” she said sleepily.

“I can stop, if you’d like.”

“Don’t you dare!” She sat up on her elbows. Her hair had come loose again, falling in messy curls around her shoulders. She looked like a goddess like this, illuminated by the warm lamplight. How could he possibly deny her anything she wanted?

When his mouth found her cunt, she let out a soft sigh of relief. She spread her legs for him, one hand on his horn to keep him in place.

“You’re good at that,” she said serenely, her free hand coming up to play with her own nipple.

“Practice makes perfect,” he said. “And I’m having a lot of fun striving for perfection with you.”

In truth, Rolan was sure that he was clumsy and inexperienced, but he was still probably better than anyone Tav had been with before. It was nice to be praised, in any case. He would happily spend the rest of his life learning what made her whimper and moan, if she let him.

His thumb, which had been lazily rubbing her clit, sped up, and she started to breathe harder, her legs moving to wrap around him. He kept up the pace, holding her thighs open with a firm hand, and in moments, she was cumming, her back arching off the bed.

He would’ve been happy to keep going, but she was pushing him back, so he pulled away. She didn’t let him go far. She dragged him down for a kiss again, chasing the taste of herself on his lips.

With gentle but insistent tugs, she manoeuvred him around so that he was now lying back against the pillows. She couldn’t manhandle him the way he could her, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try.

His cock was achingly hard where it lay against his stomach. She straddled his waist, her pussy hot and wet against his skin.

There was a fond smile on her face. She brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen from his bun, tucking it behind his ear.

“Hi,” she said.

He chuckled. “Hi.”

And then she grasped his cock with one hand, lining it up with her entrance. As she slid down onto him, a fire sparked inside him, and he grabbed her hips to help her down the rest of the way, gentle but firm. She was so wet that she sank down easily until he was buried inside her up to the hilt.

“Fuck, Rolan,” she said breathlessly. “I’m still not used to how big you are.”

“Sorry,” he said, not sorry at all.

She splayed her hands across his chest as she started to move. Her fingers stroked the ridged skin there, making him shiver. His hands on her hips kept her steady, but didn’t push. He wanted her to set the pace.

Her breasts bounced with every flex of her hips and thighs, and suddenly her body felt like a feast and Rolan didn’t know what to taste first. His right hand smoothed up her thigh while his left grabbed her breast, pinching her nipple.

She keened, bracing herself on his chest, and he felt her clench around him. The first time they’d fucked, that might’ve been the end of it for him, but he was more practised now, and wasn’t ready for this to be over.

She rode him through her orgasm, and he met her in the middle, thrusting up into her. Her thumbs came up to tweak his nipples, and he gasped, a bolt of pleasure running through him.

Her head was thrown back, moaning every time she bounced on his cock. He slipped his hand between them, brushing over her clit and trying to draw her into another orgasm.

This time, when she came, she collapsed forward onto his chest, breathing hard. That was fine. He didn’t mind having to work for his pleasure.

His hands went back to her hips as he thrust into her, spearing her on his ridged cock. He knew now how to hit the spots inside her that made her keen. She dug her fingernails into the skin of his chest, gasping his name.

“Come for me, Rolan. Please, come inside me,” she whimpered.

And once again, how could he deny her anything she wanted?

His orgasm hit him hard, his balls squeezing as he emptied himself inside her. Her mouth was on his neck, her teeth scraping against his skin, and all he could do was cling to her as he rode out the aftershocks.

When he was done, she leant forward, letting him slip out of her. They were face to face now. She was smiling at him, a warm tingle ignited in his gut. She dropped a chaste kiss onto his lips and then rolled off him.

It was strange. For the first time, there was no rush to bathe or redress. There was no fear of being caught. There was no looming spectre of Lorroakan to ruin the afterglow. Rolan almost didn’t know what to do with himself.

“I think we should burn this bed,” said Tav. He looked at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on some point on the ceiling. “And the curtains. Most things in this room, honestly. I don’t want to be reminded of him.”

“We can start fresh,” said Rolan. “We have access to all of Lorroakan’s money now. We can redecorate however you want.”

“Well…” Tav turned to him now, her shy gaze meeting his. “I was hoping you’d have some input. This is your room now too.”

Rolan swallowed, his throat feeling dry. That was a lovely thought, but he had to be sure of something before he let himself indulge in it.

“Tav…” he said. Her eyes were fixed on him, wide and curious. “I just wanted to say… It doesn’t have to be my room, if you don’t want that. I don’t want you to feel pressured to share your life with me, especially not so soon after Lorroakan.”

 “Oh,” she said. She sat up, pulling the blanket with her so that it covered her breasts. “That’s… I mean… You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to. There are plenty of spare rooms.” He watched her pull her hair into a loose bun, not looking at him.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said softly. He sat up too, putting his arms around her. As he kissed her cheek, she relaxed into him again. “I love you. I want to be with you. But I also want you to know that it’s okay if you don’t want the same thing.”

His throat felt tight. In truth, he would be devastated if she pushed him away now, but he wanted her to know that he’d support her even if she did.  

“Rolan…” She let out a quiet sob. “I love you too.”

“I know you do,” he said, pulling her into a proper hug. She turned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“This is all so confusing,” she said. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never really made my own decisions before. But I do know that I want you to stay with me tonight.”

“Then I’ll be here tonight. And tomorrow night, if you still want me then. Let’s take this slow. One step at a time. If at any point, you need space, or time, I will give it to you. I don’t think I could deny you of anything.”

Fiercely, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He let her lead him, holding her against him. Her arms were so tightly wrapped around his neck that he almost couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t care. She was here. They were here together.

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