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daisyofwaterdeep · 1 year ago

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Okay about that Rolan thought where he is mean to himself as he masterbaits is just *chefs kiss*

What if Tav hears him? Like he’s in the back and she walks past the door and hears clapping? So she leans her ear to the door and hears him…

“So…ah-fucking pathetic…mhmm thinking about….her ahh snug cunt.”

Rolan’s knuckles are white as he strokes himself faster and faster… then he hears a slight whine.

Your ear is pressed to the door as your thighs squeeze together trying to ease the ache in your ruined panties… then Rolan sets himself back in his pants and opens the door but when he opens the door he sees, nothing? He doesn’t know that you’re just around the corner with your heart racing out for your chest and the plans to check that closet every day now.

(i was gonna link the post you mentioned but i cant fuckin FIND it hghg) EDIT: FOUND IT!!

Hope you don't mind that I wrote this, as soon as I saw it I was a MESS and had to share some more solid thoughts hghghg

~~~

'Caught?'

Rolan/femcis!Reader !NSFW!

When the last customer of the day leaves and you hear the magical mechanism lock the front doors, you finally let yourself deflate out of customer service mode.

“I don’t think that man was an adventurer.” You say, leaning comfortably on the front desk.

Rolan is crouched down under the counter, taking inventory of the scrolls beside you. He doesn’t look up from his task as he answers. “It’s not just adventurers that shop here.”

“Yes, but he bought a Scroll of Enlarge. What in the world would he need that for?”

“It’s not our job to know.” The tip of Rolan’s quill dances over the furled ends of a scroll. “...Perhaps he wants to clean some high shelves in his home.”

“65 gold to clean some shelves? I doubt it.”

You can see Rolan’s attention to his task waning as he settles more comfortably on his knees beside you, “Alright, so what’s your theory?”

“My theory?” You ponder for a second before the obvious presents itself. “Probably a sex thing.”

“Wh– a sex…thing?” Rolan sputters before waving his quill in front of himself, “What sort of nonsense are you talking?”

You’re shocked at just how flustered Rolan seems all of a sudden. You wonder just how more flustered he can get.

“It’s not nonsense, though.” You lean against the counter, looking out across the shop floor as you speak in a confidential low tone, “Your partner would be able to really toss you around like that. And I mean, the size aspect, of course…”

Rolan says nothing, and from the corner of your eye he seems almost like a statue, completely unmoving. You’re tempted to take a better look, but resist as you continue.

“Really though, I bet most of your customers are actually perverts. Why else would Scrolls of Grease and Dominate Person be our biggest sellers?”

“Alright,” Rolan says, voice on the brink of exasperation, “I get Dominate Person, sure, but Grease?”

“Think about it. Oiling up your partner from head to toe. Everything being all slick and wet and well… greasy.”

Rolan scoffs, “But the mess.”

“It’s magical lubricant,” You retort easily, “It dissipates after a while. Easy cleanup.” You take the side of your leg and bump him with it playfully, “Besides, sometimes the mess is part of the fun. Come on, you’ve had to have thought about it before.”

“Enough.” Rolan stands and straightens his robes brusquely, “This is inappropriate talk for work.”

You want to point out that he’s the one that encouraged you, but you can see annoyance written all across his flushed face, and you don’t want to push it into a full-blown bad mood. You’re not really sure what flipped his switch so suddenly, but Rolan’s moods can be fickle like that sometimes. You’ve learned that it’s best to just distance yourself and don’t question it, lest you get a chewing out. With how well you both get along, it’s sometimes easy to forget that he’s your boss, and you’re his employee.

He turns quickly on his heel and makes for the back of the store, mumbling something about taking inventory in the store room, leaving you alone to close up shop for the day.

You go about straightening up, smiling at Tolna as she waves a silent goodbye and leaves. Luckily for you, today was a fairly calm one. There’s no mysterious goop to clean from the floors or fire-singed books to pull for repairs.

As you move back behind the front desk to wipe down the counter, you notice a piece of parchment on the ground, near where you were previously standing. You pick it up and realize that it’s Rolan’s inventory list. It’s odd that he hasn’t come back to retrieve it.

You brush it off and begin making your way to the storage room, already imagining Rolan standing along one of the shelves, nose in some tome and his task completely forgotten.

But right as your hand touches the handle, you hear the faint whisper of Rolan’s voice. Is he talking to himself as he works? Or maybe he’s reading something out loud. It’s nearly indiscernible through the thick wood, and before you can think better of it, you find yourself pressing your ear against the door.

“....pathetic…fucking pathetic...”

His voice sounds tight and breathless and very pissed off. Did you really anger him that much? And is he calling you pathetic? It feels like a slap across the face– because to be fair, you were being pathetic, trying to get a rise out of him in some backwards, stupid way of flirting.

Your mind is already twisting around, trying to nurse at your wounded pride as you take a step back, but then you hear something that makes your entire body freeze.

“She doesn’t f-fucking want you–” His scathing words break off into a low moan and you can hear the faintest wet sound, a fast, repetitive ‘shlickshlickshlick’ that gets drowned out as he continues in the same hushed, angry tone, “You’re worthless, just a, ahh- a worthless fucking pervert.”

The crash of arousal that hits you is nearly debilitating, but there’s a thread of pity that doesn’t let you fully indulge in the feeling. Rolan is on the other side of the door, masturbating and berating himself. It could just be a kink for him, but the way he’s hissing the words makes it seem like he’s punishing himself, like he’s saying them to keep from enjoying himself entirely. Is it because you’re his employee? Is it because he thinks he’s not good enough for you?

You tell yourself not to be presumptuous. Maybe it’s not even about you. But at the same time, who the hell else could he be talking about? And after the chat you both had…did your playful teasing really rile him up to such an extent?

Gods, what would he do if he knew you were listening to him? That your cunt was throbbing at the sounds of him stroking himself, that each of his breathy, desperate moans made you clench uselessly around nothing? What would he do if you opened the door? If you caught him with those long, pretty fingers wrapped around his hard cock?

The thought is tempting, intoxicating…but even in your lust-muddied mind, you know you can’t. Rolan is sensitive, and a blow to his self image like that would be something you’re not sure you could reassure him out of. Especially with the cruel words he’s muttering to himself…it’s clear he has a fair share of sexual hang-ups.

You press your thighs together and lean harder against the door, hungry to pick up on every minute sound. The wet noise is quicker now, almost manic, and his breathing is harsh. Rolan is getting close– the thought is so mind-numbingly erotic that your hips roll against the door in time with his small, overwhelmed whimpers.

“Fuck, f-fuck—” He pants out, voice teetering on distress.

You wonder where he’s going to cum. In his hand? A handkerchief? Does he even have a plan for what he’s going to do? If only you were in there with him, you’d stick out your tongue for him and take every hot, thick shot in your mouth.

As exciting as your sordid thoughts are, it’s nothing compared to the sound of your name– one you’ve heard so many times from him, usually from across the store, oftentimes distracted, sometimes annoyed– but this time, it’s a desperate plea. He says it like it’s the sweetest word he knows, like the mere forming of it in his mouth is a deep, aching relief.

You groan despite yourself, and realize your error almost immediately. Rolan goes deathly silent in the storeroom, and even though you’re in a drunken daze, you jerk away from the door.

Son of a bitch. Son a bitch!

It’s your turn to berate yourself as you speed walk to the other side of the store, cheeks on fire and heart thundering so hard in your chest that you’re surprised it doesn’t break a rib.

Did he hear you? Does he know you were eavesdropping?

You reach the counter and immediately start fussing with a stack of pamphlets as your thoughts flit ceaselessly.

When you hear the door to the store room open, you fight the urge to stiffen and instead continue to make yourself look busy, your breath held as you hear the soft tapping of Rolan’s shoes against the tiled floor.

They seem to head in your direction, then stop. A few beats of silence, then they veer to the left, seeming to head towards the tome counter.

You wait a few moments before daring to take a look. Rolan’s back is turned away from you, the end of his quill dancing over the edges of the books as he continues to take inventory, like nothing happened.

Oh yeah, the inventory list! It’s only then that you realize that it’s no longer in your hands. You whip around, looking around your feet, then along the path to the store room.

You don’t see it.

You turn back to Rolan just as he jots something down on a piece of parchment. It’s a little hard to see from this distance, but you’re almost certain that it’s the same one as before.

Even if there’s no solid proof that he knows you were peeping, the horrified screaming in your head doesn’t relent.

#rolan x reader #bg3 rolan #daisy drabbles #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

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