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Dragon Age Kinktober Collection

Chapter Text


Dragon Age Kinktober Fics:


  1. Drunk in Darktown - Male Hawke/Anders 
    Warnings: Altered state/Drunk sex
    Prompt tags used: Deep-throating
    Additional tags: drunk sex, hook-up, seduction, finger sucking, blowjobs, face-fucking, swallowing.
  2. Just a Warning - Zevran/Original Male Character 
    Warnings: Non-Con
    Prompt tags used: Begging, Watersports
    Additional Tags: Interrogation, public humiliation, hair pulling, restraints, verbal degradation, verbal humiliation, urophagia/piss-drinking
  3. Lyrium Touch - Male Hawke/Fenris
    Prompt tags used: Sensory Deprivation, Temperature Play
    Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Restraints, Light Bondage, Blindfolds, Light Dom/Sub, Teasing, Grinding, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Magic Elements
  4. There's Only One Bed - Male Hawke/Fenris/Anders
    Prompt tags used: Spit-Roasting, Spanking, Crying
    Additional Tags:  Altered state, Threesome, Dom Fenris, Light S&M, Sub Anders, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Choking, Deep-Throating, Anal Sex, Come Swallowing, Orgasm Denial, Cuddle Pile.
  5. TBA
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  7. Poisonous - Anders/Fenris
    Prompt Tags Used: Aphrodisiacs, Praise-Kink
    Additional Tags: Oversensitivity, rival fucking/hate fucking, neck kissing, biting, hand jobs, grinding, post-sex guilt

  8.  TBA

  9. TBA
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  24. Strapped - Isabela/Fenris
    Prompt Tags Used: Pegging, Lapdance
    Additional Tags: FWBs, sloppy make outs, teasing, striptease, soft d/s, begging, strap-on, strap-on blowjob, cunnilingus, consent issues, past sexual abuse mention, blowjob, anal fingering, rimming, anal sex, hair pulling, hand jobs, cuddling

Chapter Text


It was well past nightfall in Darktown, even though it was almost impossible to tell sometimes in this part of Kirkwall. Hawke had come down to the clinic earlier in the evening, bringing Anders his portion of pay from a job they had completed together recently. Anders had convinced him to stay, bribing him with a vintage that had been traded to him for his healing services.


The bottle was half empty on the rickety table between them now. One of the table legs was too short, wobbling the surface and their miss-matched drinking glasses.


“Woah,” Hawke tried to right the table, for the fifth time at least, laughing as it wouldn’t steady. “Isn’t there something we can put under- Put under its-”


Anders chuckled as Hawke waved his hand towards the table legs repeatedly. Hawke had suggested this multiple times already, every time the words slurred more.


“You know you’re a real lightweight, considering you’re…” Anders gestured to Hawke’s broad shoulders, his muscled arms and swallowed hard on the acid aftertaste of the spirit they were sharing.


“It's this stuff it’s…” Hawke picked up the bottle and squinted at the label, unable to decipher the Antivan script. “It’s hard, this stuff, it’s really very hard.”


Hawke swayed on his stool as if he were sitting in the hull of a ship in a rocking sea, not in the back room of Anders’ clinic. Anders was feeling the drink too, albeit not as sharply as Hawke was, it was enough to dull the edges inside of him. Enough to cloud out Justice, to etch his own space where it was just him and Hawke.


He had only known Hawke for a few months, but it was enough for him to know that the Ferelden was exactly the type of person he wanted to follow. To be with, if he dared to dream. He was steadfast, honest, always willing to lend a helping hand and had the worst sense of humor that Anders couldn’t help but adore.


The only problem was that Hawke did not seem interested.


But Anders was sure he could convince him.


Hawke was just too polite, too sweet and probably not as experienced. He had been tossed into the fire that was Anders’ life and probably thought Anders needed space, time to collect himself. He had seen Justice but hadn’t called the Templars on him. There was something there, there had to be, Anders just had to nudge it along.


“Top me up?” Anders handed Hawke his glass, pulling his chair close to Hawke as he carefully refilled the glass with a jerky hand.


Their hands touched as Anders took the glass back, letting himself linger as he looked up at Hawke and gave him a shy smile. Hawke returned it, a flush in his cheeks as he cleared his throat and took another big swig.


“This is nice, isn’t it?” Anders asked, perhaps a little too eagerly as he pressed his knee against Hawke’s. “Just the two of us. We don’t really get much time alone like this.”


“Ah,” Hawke grinned, tilting his head at Anders like a giant puppy dog. “Is that why you invited me to stay?”


“What?” Anders smirked, feigning innocence as he let his hand fall to Hawke’s thigh. Maker, his thigh was solid, thick with muscle. What he wouldn’t give to see them bare.


“Oh, oh-ho-ho-ho,” Hawke chuckled lowly, his eyes narrowing as he let his knees slowly open. “Don’t think I didn’t notice, Anders, you’re not that sneaky.”


“Who said I was sneaking?” Anders’ hand rubbing generously over Hawke’s leg before slipping down to his inside thigh. Hawke jerked at the forward motion, alcohol dripping from his hand as he put the glass down. “I’m quite forward.”


Hawke’s breath was heavy as Anders traced a finger along the inside of his thigh. He took Hawke’s elbow and guided his soaked fingers to his mouth and stuck his tongue out to lick them clean. Hawke’s hands tasted of metal and sweat underneath the acidic sting of the spirit, unexpectedly thick as Anders took two into his mouth.


“Anders-” Hawke breathed, his cheeks burning red as his mouth twitched between a boyish grin and arousal.


“Do you want me?” Anders purred as he released his fingers. Of course, Hawke wanted him now. No man could reject another so willing to offer himself. It had started as a survival tactic years ago, one that had turned to a desperately hungry need.


“I’m- Ahh, I mean, of course, but-” Hawke blinked hard as Anders reached to stroke at the hardness that had grown between his legs. Warm and thick under the protective leathers. “Here? I don’t think I could really-”


Anders blinked slowly as he smiled at Hawke, slipping from his chair to the split and stained wood planks between the man’s open legs. Hawke groaned throatily, opening his legs wider as his hands twitched on his thighs. Anders nuzzled against his crotch, mouthing the tangy leather surrounding Hawke’s erect cock as he looked up at him through his blonde eyelashes.


“Let me,” He breathed against the damp leather, reaching for the laces of Hawke’s trousers. “Let me swallow you down.”


Hawke whined, hands falling helplessly as Anders worked the laces open. The thickness of his cock pushed up as Anders peeled away the tight leather, only needing the smallest nudge to help it spring from its captivity. Hawke was hard, the head of his cock already slick with excitement as Anders took it in hand and pumped.


Hawke rewarded Anders with a deep moan, one that betrayed how long it had been since anyone had touched him. What a tragedy. Hawke was flawless, handsome, rugged, kind and his cock was girthy in Anders’ hand. The poor man had been neglected, the world denying itself of his stunning cock.


Anders licked its tip lightly, savoring the strangled sounds that burst from Hawke as he gripped the sides of his stool. The precum at his head was salty upon Anders’ tongue as he returned to wetly trace a circle around the cock’s head, pooling spit and wetness against him. Hawke nearly yelled as Anders licked broadly up against the underside of his shaft, returning again to trace the vein that bulged in arousal.


“Anders- And- Ngh-” Hawke stuttered as Anders smirked against his cock.


Anders tilted his head, tongue flat as it propped up the thick cock, balancing the tip just above his nose. Hawke met his eyes and groaned with want, and Anders was all too happy to oblige. He opened his mouth and caught the cock between his lips, suckling on the head happily as he slowly sunk himself upon it.


Hawke was big. His cock filled Anders’ wanting mouth without space to spare, stretched his lips as it nudged eagerly against the back of his throat. Anders moaned around it, tongue flat to welcome Hawke deep inside of him. The man was beet red above him, panting in arousal as his knuckles turned white from the effort to hold onto the stool under him.


It reminded Anders of the mages he had affairs within the Circle, inexperienced and nervous but filled with desire and curiosity. Anders had always been too eager to guide them down a path of secretive debauchery and forbidden romances. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t handle Hawke’s initial dismission of his advances, why he longed to be the lover of a free Ferelden warrior.


“Anders- It’s-” Hawke moaned, biting down on his lip to stop himself from getting any louder. “You’re amazing I just want to-”


Anders blinked up at Hawke from where he had been bobbing up and down on his cock happily and watched him twist his lip under his teeth. Hawke’s hands were shaking, one had unlatched from the stool and hovered in the air, unsure. Anders’ own cock twitched at the expression, the clear thoughts Hawke was unwittingly exhibiting.


Anders came off of Hawke’s cock with a pop, his lips nearly dripping with saliva as he cleared his throat and smiled up at Hawke, “You can.”


“You’re sure? I mean-” Hawke shook his head, averting his gaze shyly as he put his hand back. He didn’t even seem to notice that Anders had read exactly what he wanted without voicing it.


“Please, Hawke, use me,” Anders purred, taking Hawke’s hand and guiding it to the small ponytail at the back of his head. Hawke answered with a sharp intake of breath, eyes wide as Anders smirked and wrapped his lips around that slick length.


Hawke’s fingers gripped in Ander’s hair experimentally, tightening around the tie as Anders moaned encouragement around Hawke’s cock. Hawke rolled his hips slightly, pushing himself a touch deeper into Anders. Ander’s legs were trembling where he knelt, wanting more.


Anders could take it.


Hawke’s grip tightened and Anders’ head was locked in place, cock lodged to the back of his throat as Hawke growled and rutted against him. He was overcome with desire, thrusting as Anders gagged and struggled around the thick length. His cock pushed and pushed until Anders felt the head push beyond and down into the tightened grip of his throat. His throat spasmed, fighting the intrusion as Anders breathed furiously through his nose and took it.


Hawke was moaning, his face a divine display of pleasure as Anders watched him from lidded eyes. This is what he wanted. Anders moaned his own pleasure in response, rewarded with sharp thrusts further and further into his throat as saliva dripped from his lips, slicking Hawke’s leather pants and Anders’ gripping hands.


Anders forced his body to relax, to take the delightful abuse, to be a sheath for Hawke’s throbbing length as it thrust within the tightness of his throat. Hawke’s second hand brushed stray tendrils of blond hair from Anders’ face, gazing into Anders’ glassy eyes before he wrapped his hand around Anders’ throat. Anders’ knobby adam’s apple shifted under Hawke’s palm as his cock filled and slid about behind it. Anders’ eyes rolled into the back of his head, sputtering and retching around the length despite how good it felt.


Hawke withdrew from Anders, letting him stutter and cough and spit on the floor before he propped himself back up eagerly, ready with his open mouth waiting.


“Anders,” Hawke’s hands were still locked tight against his scalp, loose around his throat as he stared into Anders’ eyes as if they held all the stars in the sky. “You look amazing like this.”


Anders opened his mouth wider with a grin and Hawke thrust into him, forcing him to take his entire cock. Hawke was off the stool, one hand fisted in Anders’ hair holding him against his crotch, his balls tight and heavy against Anders’ face. The thick intrusion twitched where it sheathed deep down Anders’ throat and Anders hummed as he felt Hawke come. Too deep to need to swallow, shooting directly down to Anders’ stomach as his throat tightened and fought against Hawke. Hawke grunted as he thrust a few more times, slowing as his balls emptied into Anders, sliding out finally as Anders tasted the last drops of come upon his slackened tongue.


“That was- Anders I-” Hawke was out of breath as he fell back into the stool, his hair stuck to the sweat on his forehead as his softening cock hung from his open trousers. “Maker.”


Anders wiped his mouth as his sleeve after a stuttered cough, his throat aching and his jaw pained as he smiled back at Hawke, “I thought you’d like that.”

Chapter Text

“Do you know why we’re here, Zevran?”


Zevran flashed the masked man a grin, the expression pulling on one of the particularly nasty welts the men had gifted him.


“I don’t suppose it’s a social call,” He responded, gloved fingers against his head tightening in his hair in annoyed response already. “But if it is, then I’m afraid I don’t have enough chairs for all of your friends, someone is going to have to sit on the floor. Which, ah, would probably be me, I see.”


The man standing behind Zevran with his hand gripped in his hair yanked on his ear in response, as if Zevran was a child being corrected. It was more insulting than painful, but Zevran knew better than to reveal either reaction.


Ah , so it is that type of social call,” Zevran winked up at the masked Crow, “You should have just said so. We could have established a watchword first, hey?”


Zevran chuckled where he was restrained on his knees, his hands tied painfully tight behind his back. He didn’t recognize the Crows that had descended upon him, which was rather the point he suspected. They had snuffed out the lanterns, worn their masks close, and only the man standing in front of Zevran had spoken aloud. The other four were arranged around him, one holding him by his hair, two of either side with daggers unsheathed, and another somewhere behind most likely with bow drawn.


It wasn’t the usual drop-in from Crow masters that he was accustomed to. And yet, he found he wasn’t entirely surprised. He had been skirting and skimping on his duties and contracts lately, it was only a matter of time before someone showed up to correct him.


“We’ve been watching your recent activity,” the Crow in front of Zevran continued, willfully ignoring him. Zevran wondered briefly if the man was a guildmaster stepping in to finally put him out of his misery. “And it’s become obvious that you’ve gotten sloppy, passive, weak .”


Zevran blinked slowly, grin widening. He didn’t have a response to that. He couldn’t even think of anything to say to lighten the dread weighing his shoulders.


“Taliesen has been covering for you,” The man continued and a chill curled in Zevran’s stomach. “Indeed, if it were not for him you would not have completed your last contract, would you? Do you deny this?”


There was a shifting of armor somewhere in the room, although Zevran had not been able to pinpoint which of the masked Crows it was. He wondered with a strained alarm whether Taliesen was in the room with him, watching him behind one of the masks.


“I suppose so,” Zevran shrugged a shoulder.


The masked man stared at him for a silent moment before crossing his arms, “Tell me elf, what has inspired such apathy in you? Such disrespect?”


Zevran sighed sadly, restraining himself from rolling his eyes at the man he was sure now was a guildmaster he hadn’t met before.


“I can’t help it if Taliesen is more skilled than me,” Zevran pitched his eyebrows in mock sadness, “Although, I am definitely more handsome, you can’t deny that. These lovely gentlemen here might have rearranged my face a bit, but you can see under the bruises and swelling, yes?”


The guildmaster, Zevran was convinced of his rank by now, looked away to exchange glances with one of the other Crows, as if in disbelief. Which was fair. Zevran didn’t know what he was talking about any more than this man did. At this point, he was just filling the silence before the inevitable, weaseling and squirming his way using the only method he knew how.


The guildmaster barked out a laugh so suddenly that it gave Zevran a start, “At least you know what little worth you have, elf.”


Zevran swallowed hard before returning the laugh with a friendly chuckle of his own, “Ah, you see? It’s not so much that I don’t care or that I’m avoiding the masters. I’m just much more suited to the seduction, the distraction, the illusions I weave with a flick of the hair and a flash of a smile.”


The guildmaster watched him with even, blue eyes burning into him, “Ah yes, much like your knife-ear mother. I suppose I cannot blame you for your nature, can I?”


Zevran’s lip twitched, but his smile remained in place.


The guildmaster stroked his chin with a gloved hand in an appraising gesture. His leather-soled footsteps silent as he crept up closer to Zevran and considered him from behind his mask.


“I am here to deliver a warning , Zevran,” Zevran was just able to catch a glimpse of a wicked smile under the beaked mask. “The next time you have a visit from me, or any of the other guildmasters, it will be your last. You have been a promising prospect in the past, and have almost paid off what House Arainai invested in you, and we do not want to see you go to waste. You understand, don’t you?”


“Of course,” Zevran’s face was starting to hurt, the forced smile at odds with his injuries.


“That’s a good boy,” The guildmaster’s voice dropped and Zevran had an idea of how the rest of this visit would go. “Now, my men here have already roughed you up a bit and I wouldn’t want to see lasting injury when there are contracts for you to do, so how about we find a more creative way to conclude this discipline? Hmm?”


“What did you have in mind, guildmaster?” Zevran raised an eyebrow playfully, as long as he was able to walk away from this with all his fingers and all his bones unbroken he was a happy man.


“Hold him,” The guildmaster instructed the Crow behind Zevran, who immediately fisted even tighter in his blonde hair and yanked his face upwards. A knee jammed against him, driving the thick rope restraining him into his spine to keep him in place.


Zevran fought back his alarm, forcing himself to release the instinct to struggle out of the cruel grip. Had he not shown how willing he was to use his body in repentance? Did the guildmaster just miss his constant cues and flirtatious advances?


The guildmaster sighed as he fumbled at the laces of his trousers, further confusing Zevran. If he was just wanting a blowjob he would do it, without protest, he’s an elf owned by House Arainai for fuck’s sake. It’s not like this was something he had never done for a higher-up before.


“I want you to beg for it,” The guildmaster said gruffly as he reached into his trousers.


Zevran steeled and readied himself before the guildmaster pulled out his completely flaccid cock. His ears twitched at the sight, usually these types of men where raging hard at throwing their importance around, at threatening and flexing their muscles. But he was soft, which Zevran would have expected him to hide if he was just-


“Beg me, elf, open your mouth and beg ,” The guildmaster peered down at him, the whites of his eyes stark against the darkness in the room. He held his cock delicately, posing it just above Zevran’s face. “You filthy knife-ear, tell me .”


Realization struck Zevran like a hilt to the back of his head.


“P-please,” Zevran stuttered, eyes widening as his head ached from the grip in his hair. His wide eyes flicking between the guildmaster’s masked facade and the soft prick above him. “Give it to me, sir, please.”


“You want it, don’t you?” The guildmaster breathed, reaching out to stroke Zevran’s face slowly. The warm leather of his gloves sliding much too slowly down his cheek. “Tell me how much you want it, elf.”


“I want it so bad,” Zevran wished he could sound more convincing, but suspected the edge of fear in his voice was exactly what the guildmaster was looking for. “Please, guildmaster, give it to me. I need it, please. Please, sir.”


The guildmaster chuckled lowly, releasing his hand from Zevran’s face and relaxing his shoulders just as a stream of hot piss poured onto Zevran. It burned his eyes in the split second it took for him to squeeze them shut. His throat tightened in humiliation as the wretched liquid splashed and ran over him, dripping back into his hairline, running into his ears and pooling in the planes of his face. It trickled against his lips as Zevran pressed them closed, a sudden jolt of memory forcing him to wretch it open to take it in.


It tasted vile. Sour and hot as it pooled under his tongue, his lip quivering as the shower continued.


“Tongue out, elf,” Guildmaster barked and Zevran had no choice but to obey.


The guildmaster’s piss seemed neverending, as if he had downed an entire bottle of wine in preparation for this one moment. He pissed generously across Zevran’s face before aiming directly on his tongue and down his throat. Zevran felt sick, his throat aching to close and reject the urine it was being force-fed.


He could almost feel the eyes of his fellow Crows upon him as the guildmaster emptied his bladder down Zevran’s throat. His stomach twisted in shame and disgust, his mind reeling far from the moment to consider how this would affect his position amongst the others. What if Taliesen was there? Watching Zevran forced to drink the stinking relief of their better?


Zevran couldn’t bear the thoughts, trading them in for the blank ringing empty space his mind reserved just for moments like this.


Finally, after what seemed like forever, the guildmaster’s stream waned down to a trickle. Zevran dared not open his eyes, feeling wetness gathering under his eyelashes. He felt the guildmaster shake himself off and heard him put his cock away. He hoped it was over, but he knew the likelihood of that concluding his discipline was slim.


“Anyone else?” The guildmaster invited and Zevran wished the hand holding his hair would relent, whether to hang his head in shame or attempt to shake off the sheen of piss, he wasn’t even sure.


Zevran blurted out a small hysterical laugh as he heard someone step forward, of course, of course at least one of them had to take the guildmaster up on his offer. It wasn’t enough to ambush him in the middle of the night and pound his face and body into a pulp. Why wouldn’t they take the opportunity?


Another stream of hot piss hit Zevran, between the eyes and pouring down under his nostrils.


“Keep that mouth open, knife-ear,” guildmaster wasn’t done, apparently, “The moment you’re not drinking your fellow Crows’ piss is the moment I want to hear you beg for it. You want to stay in my good graces, don’t you? You want to stay in the Crows? You want to make amends?”


Zevran couldn’t answer, not with his mouth open and accepting another round of vile liquid.


“Swallow it, elf. You love it, don’t you?” Guildmaster continued, the other Crows deadly silent as they stood witness.


The stream of piss sputtered and Zevran forced himself to swallow the urine, sharp and disgusting as his stomach heaved in protest.


“Yes,” He rasped, using the syllables as a chance to attempt to shake the taste from his tongue, “I love it, guildmaster, thank you.”


“You want more?” The guildmaster’s voice had an edge of humor, mocking, as if Zevran spoke the truth and he was laughing at the absurdity of it all. “You want another to piss down your throat?”


Zevran swam in the darkness behind his clenched eyelids, shame rolling down his spine as the Crow behind him adjusted his grasp.



Chapter Text


“I’m not sure I want to know how you learned to do this… so well ,” Hawke tested the ropes restraining his wrists, tugging at them and raising his eyebrows at Fenris.


Fenris smirked as he collected the straggling and tangling tail of the rope that snaked from the knot at Hawke’s wrist, “It’s not too tight?”


Hawke shook his head, dropping his bound hands into his lap as he watched Fenris handle the rope with meek curiosity. They had discussed using restraints before, but it had always been rhetorical. Hawke had asked, with nerves shining in his big brown eyes, if Fenris would ever be open to tying him up. Fenris was surprised, to say the least, but the idea had grown on him and he had spent the better part of two weeks planning this.


The rope was prepared to his satisfaction and Fenris met Hawke’s eyes, “Lie back.”


Hawke listened, moving a bit too quickly and betraying his nervous excitement. He flopped back on his four-poster bed, bare chest framed by his dark bedspread. Fenris flicked the rope that trailed from his wrists, as one might a horse, to encourage him to scoot back further on the bed.


He was so trusting, so eager, it warmed something inside of Fenris he didn’t realize was still frozen. It made him want to do his best for Hawke, to give him what he wanted and gift him with more he didn’t even know was coming. It was curious, but Fenris had spent enough time mulling over the implications. Now was the time to act.


Fenris straddled Hawke, smirking down at him as he pressed himself down on Hawke’s expanding ribs. Fenris pulled on the rope, Hawke’s bound hands following without objection. He lead them towards the headboard, over Hawke’s head, and expertly looped the tail end of the rope to a decorative curl in the carved wood. The knot tightened and Hawke’s hands fell just beneath it, bound and tethered.


Hawke sighed out a shaky breath, watching Fenris with an eager anticipation. Fenris ran his hands down Hawke’s hanging arms, feeling every goosebump and ticklish flinch in his forearms and down his biceps. He found Hawke’s lips and kissed him deeply, attempting to press in as much desire and devotion into his mouth as he could before he really got started.


Hawke whined a bit as Fenris pulled away and dismounted him, sliding off the side of the bed. He could feel Hawke’s eyes following him, trailing the exposed curved of his back, peeking down to the swirls of lyrium at his waistband. Usually, he enjoyed the way Hawke looked at him with his stark adoration. But tonight was going to be different.


Fenris opened a small drawer of Hawke’s wardrobe, plucking a silky dark handkerchief from the tangle of fabric inside. It had been part of an outfit Hawke had needed to wear to an event at the Viscount’s, but Fenris had a better use for it.


Hawke blinked in surprise when Fenris brought it to his face, carefully folded into a long strip. They had not discussed blindfolds before, but Fenris gave Hawke the chance to voice any objections. They stared at each other in tense silence before Hawke swallowed hard, adam’s apple bobbing gracefully, and nodded. Fenris closed the silky fabric over Hawke’s warm eyes, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before he doubled knotted the material behind his head.


Hawke’s demeanour changed immediately. His limbs tensed and softened on their own as he gave into the lack of control. Soft sounds escaped his lips as he wriggled against the restraints testingly, his head lolling just slightly, unsure of where Fenris was. Fenris knew the sensation of losing a sense and remaining vulnerable and was happy to see Hawke take to it well. So much trust, Fenris knew he had to take care.


Fenris breathed shallowly, keeping himself a ghost as Hawke remained in the dark, stepping close to trail soft fingertips from Hawke’s treasure trail, up his sternum and to his adam’s apple. Hawke shivered, moaned, his legs shifting against the bed.  


“More?” Fenris breathed against Hawke’s ear.


“Please, Fenris-” Hawke turned his head blindly towards him, nuzzling and pressing kisses wherever he found skin. Fenris pulled away with a soft sound, depriving Hawke so that his eventual release would be all that much sweeter.


“As you wish,” Fenris climbed onto the bed, folding his knees close to himself. Hawke’s hands twitched in their restraints as if he had forgotten about them and had tried to reach for Fenris. “Keep still.”


Hawke exhaled slowly, sinking into the bed. Fenris smiled and rewarded him with a twisting, trailing touch from Hawke’s nipple around his ribs and down to the lip of his trousers. Hawke groaned, trembling, holding himself back from moving. Fenris went to undo the laces from his trousers, slowly untying as he watched the muscles in Hawke’s jaw clench in a forced attempt to keep still.


Fenris pulled the garment from his hips, Hawke’s cock hanging hard in the air before laying against his stomach. He was rock-hard, the head of his cock flushed and red. It hadn’t taken much, and Fenris felt a touch of pride about it. He was almost tempted to lap at Hawke’s length teasingly or to give him a pinch on the sensitive skin over his sac, but he restrained himself. There would be time.


Instead Fenris straddled Hawke again. This time just above his groin, Fenris’ soft leather leggings just brushing the tip of Hawke’s cock, nestling it in the suggestion of his ass. Hawke groaned pitifully, his hips shifting before Fenris pressed a lyrium-lit hand against his chest.


“Still,” Fenris reminded him. Hawke whined but obeyed.


The white-blue light of his brands played against the shadows on Hawke’s face, and Fenris wondered if he could see the light through the blindfold. No matter. He would know in a second.


Fenris focused on his hands, calling the lyrium up into them, twisting a thought to turn the brands cold and cool. It was trick he had learned a while ago, one that had seemed to have no purpose, until now. He pressed his hands over Hawke’s chest, fingers playing at his hardening nipples as the cold settled into his skin.


Hawke cried out in surprise, goosebumps spreading across his hairy chest as Fenris lightly stroked his pecs. The chill settled in, sensitive and sharp on Hawke’s skin as he shook and trembled under Fenris.


“What are-” Hawke gasped, tilting his head up, unseeing.


“Just a little something I learned to use the lyrium for,” Fenris lifted his hands, let the lyrium light fall away from him. The goosebumps remained as Hawke shivered.


“It’s… It’s good …” Hawke managed between puffs of aroused breath.


Fenris smirked, he was just getting started. He grinded his hips against Hawke just a bit as he called his lyrium back, teasing the head of Hawke’s aching cock as the light returned to his hands. This time they came in hot, liquid fire. He lowered one down to the center of Hawke’s chest, trailing fingers down through the forest of hair as Hawke yelped in surprise.


Fenris spread his fingers across his chest, scratching lightly as the heat bore soft red lines of heat on Hawke’s pale skin as he writhed and moaned under him. Fenris pulled one of his hands away, leaning down to blow cool air over Hawke’s chest as he pulled cold back into his hand.


Hawke was a moaning, writhing mess by the time Fenris had one hand with warmth and one with cold, alternating in twisting trailing touches up and down his chest. Fenris shifted off of him to see that Hawke’s cock was beading precum, from just the toying touches Fenris had subjected him to. Interesting.


“More?” Fenris asked, trailing a cold fingertip down Hawke’s thigh.


“Yes!” Hawke blurted in desperation, arching his hips mindlessly.


Fenris knelt between Hawke’s open legs, reaching for the bottle of oil he had left at the foot of the bed. He poured it liberally over two fingers, rubbing the wetness together as he took Hawke’s cock in his other hand.


Hawke moaned loudly, Fenris’ hand was cold . He trembled in Fenris’ hand, almost shrinking before Fenris pulled the cold away, pumping his length slowly. Too much. He thumbed the dripping precum, turning his attention to Hawke’s hole instead. He pressed against the tight entrance, nudging invitingly until Hawke gasped and let his finger inside. It was warm and tight and Fenris groaned, removing his hand from Hawke’s cock to hasilty pull open his leggings and free his own hard cock.


He wasn’t going to fuck Hawke, not like this, not tonight. But the freedom from his leggings riled him farther, pressing possessively in Hawke’s hole and stroking the walls until he could fit another finger inside.


Fenris called the lyrium, warmth and heat filling him from his elbow down to the tips of his fingers. It ached dully, thick and sore from overuse. Hawke cried out in urgency, thrusting up in surprise and sudden need. The warmth hit him in the right spot, his cock twitching needily. Fenris leaned down, still working at Hawke’s hole and prostate with his hot fingers, and licked a stripe up the underside of his length.


Hawke made a strangled sound and Fenris knew he was so close. He continued his steady fucking, fingers hot and pressing. He pushed up farther and found Hawke’s cockhead with his tongue, delicately taking it into his mouth to suck the head. Hawke thrashed suddenly and Fenris let go, pressing hard and stilling inside of his tight hole as Hawke came with a shout.


Come spurted from him onto his stomach as Fenris continued to shallowly fuck him through it, balls tightening at each burst before everything slackened and softened. Fenris carefully removed his fingers, wiped them on a nearby rag and crawled up to Hawke, kissing his body all the way up.


“Fenris…” Hawke gasped.


“Hawke,” Fenris pressed a chaste kiss to Hawke’s slack lips, blindly untying the ropes from the headboard. Hawke’s tied hands fell over Fenris, hugging him. “When you’re ready would you…”


“Yeah I got you,” Hawke whispered, kissing every bit of Fenris he could find as he nuzzled blindly at him.


“Let go and I’ll untie you-” Fenris started, cut off by a quick wet kiss.


“Nah,” Hawke breathed as he pulled away, playful grin on his face. “I want to suck you off like this, don’t change a thing.”

Chapter Text

They had all been drinking entirely too much and too far into the night. The bartender had cut them off some time ago, giving the three of them enough time to sober from messy drunk to a pleasant buzz.


Fenris had suggested to Hawke that they go home after they had been cut off. But Fenris was always better at holding his liquor, and Hawke knew he needed more time to sober before leaving. So they stayed at the Hanged Man with Anders, talking as the drink lessened the grip on their heads.


In retrospect, it should have been a bad idea. Fenris and Anders didn’t get along, not even on a good day. But something about the drink, or the late night, or the pleasant quiet comfort of the tavern at the late hour had the three of them bond and open up. Anders had softened, focusing on Hawke for the better part of the night, honey eyes gazing longingly at Hawke as he recounted stories from his childhood. Fenris had sat back in his chair, listening quietly. Even when Hawke would look over expecting Fenris to be dozing, he was still listening.


Once Anders veered the conversation to his time with the wardens Fenris sat up. His ears drooped comfortably as he chimed in with his own tales of his time on the run, the odd mercenary jobs he had taken, evading the slavers on his heel. Anders took to the stories, finally pulling his eyes off Hawke, and soon the two were swapping tales of their respective brushes with capture, their clever ruses and escape routes.


They almost sounded like friends by the time their drunkenness receded. Hawke paid for a room for the last dark hours, too early in the morning for them to be comfortable walking home. He dragged Anders by his sleeve, not allowing him to try and convince them it was safe for him to wander home.


“I had a really good night,” Anders mumbled, wavering slightly on his feet in the room. Exhaustion crawling on him. “Thanks for letting me stay I’ll just-” he looked around, lingering on Fenris as he sat back on the one bed, then to the bare floor. The only room left had only one bed. “I’ll take the floor, obviously.”


Fenris gave Hawke a look that he wasn’t able to decipher. He sighed, trying to figure out how to salvage this situation without forcing the hard-done-by mage onto the floor.


“No, no, I can-” Hawke started and stopped as Fenris rose an eyebrow at him. “Uh- I mean-”


Fenris’ ears twitched, “He can join us.”


“Oh, I wouldn’t want to uh-” Anders blushed, his ears turning red. Hawke blinked at him, flicking his eyes back to Fenris whose eyebrows rose further. “I wouldn’t want to get in between you two.”


Fenris snorted, looking over at Hawke with a sharp look that Hawke still couldn’t quite follow.


“The bed’s big enough!” Hawke blurted, feeling more awkward than he had any right to be. The three of them had camped together on missions before, they had fit the three of them and Varric into one tent once. It was fine. “I can take middle.”


Hawke, determined to solve the puzzling situation, threw off his boots and took off his shirt. Anders’ gaze lingered for a moment before starting and turning, undoing the many clasps on his robes. Fenris turned to Hawke, the corner of his mouth quirking in a very quick and very small smirk. He flopped back on the bed and turned to the far edge of it before Hawke could even respond.


The bed creaked as Hawke crept onto it, sliding up close behind Fenris. Fenris lifted his head slightly, as if in response, and Hawke pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek before settling on his back behind him.


“Sleep well,” Hawke announced to the room, closing his eyes.


No one answered him. Anders put out the lantern and patted down his side of the bed in the dark, crawling up onto the bed and accidentally bumping into Hawke more than once. It wasn’t until he laid down finally, pulling up his gangly arms and legs to himself, that Hawke realized he was also shirtless.


Hawke listened to his breath in the dark. Too loud. He tried to soften it. He tried to not think about how he was sandwiched between Fenris and Anders. His lover and the mage who usually did as much as he could to aggravate him. Hawke had always wondered if it Anders had acted that way out of jealousy, since Hawke had clearly always been interested in Fenris even before they got together. It was no secret that Anders had always been attracted to Hawke.


A touch on his side made Hawke flinch. Anders gasped softly, his hand pulling away, “Sorry.”


“No problem…” Hawke answered. Fenris remained motionless on his other side.


“Not a lot of room,” Anders said, almost cheerfully. “You’re just so…. Wide …”


Hawke could have sworn he heard Fenris muffle a snicker.


“Yeah, I guess,” Hawke joked, butterflies tumbling confusingly in his stomach. “I can lie on my side if that would help…”


“No, no, you’re fine I just…” Anders trailed off, Hawke’s eyes had adjusted enough to the dark to see that Anders was gazing at him softly. “You’re very warm .”


Anders adjusted his head on the pillow, and although something in Hawke’s gut told him to turn away, he didn’t. Anders nuzzled closer, eyes locked on Hawke’s. Their lips touched, Hawke blinked dumbly and Anders pushed in and kissed him. Warm, hot, his tongue flicking into Hawke’s mouth before he had the sense to pull away.


“Sorry!” Anders breathed.


Fenris sat up. Hawke bolted upright, heart racing. Fenris was gonna kill Anders.


“Wait-” Hawke reached out, holding Fenris’ arm. But no lyrium flared and he didn’t pull away. Instead, he just watched Hawke with an even expression.


“Did he kiss you?” Fenris’ voice was flat.


Anders flinched on the bed, jerking still as if he had just remembered Fenris was there.


“I didn’t mean to!” Anders protested, Fenris didn’t even look at him.


A quirk of his lips in the dark, “Did you like it?”


What .


Anders scrambled out of the bed and summoned a small mage light into his hand. He looked terrified as the light flickered and wavered around his open palm, backing away from the bed. “I’ll just sleep on the floor, it’s no trouble, really…”


But Fenris didn’t even turn, allowing his small smirk to grow as he watched Hawke steadily.


“Did you like it, Hawke?” Fenris asked again, his voice lifting just enough for Hawke to really question what he was doing. “You can say yes. I think he liked it.”


Hawke searched Fenris’ eyes for a hint of anger, of jealousy, a shadow of something from his dark past haunting him. But there was nothing but a bold playfulness. The same playfulness he had when he suggested something for them to do in their bedroom, flirtatious, seductive.


“Uh-” Hawke blinked hard.”What are you…”


Fenris narrowed his eyes slightly, the closest thing he ever did to a wink. He turned to Anders, tilting his head slightly, “It is no secret you are attracted to Hawke, but what do you think about me?”


Anders swallowed so hard his adam’s apple bobbed.


Fenris reached out to him, lidding his eyes slightly, “Come here, mage.”


Hawke watched, dumbfounded, as Anders slowly crept back to the bed. The magelight lifted from his fingers to slowly wobble in the air above them, a soft muted light casting over the three of them, dreamlike. Fenris’ fingers caught Anders’ tousled hair, hooked around the back of his head and pulled him onto his knees on the bed. Their lips met, Fenris taking charge of the kiss. Anders moaned into his mouth, Fenris working him as he cupped the side of his face.


Hawke’s breath was too loud again. Almost panting. Too hot suddenly as he watched Fenris kiss Anders deeply, with a dominance that Hawke knew first hand but had never seen .


Fenris pulled Anders back by his hair, searching his heavily lidded eyes, “Do you want to be shared between us? Or are you still going to sleep on the floor?”


Anders nodded and Hawke’s slowly hardening cock twitched in interest.


Fenris looked back to Hawke, “What do you think, Hawke? Shall we take care of him?”


Hawke had forgotten how to form words so he nodded eagerly instead. There was no room in Hawke’s drink-hazed and aroused mind for doubt or question. Fenris was instigating, and if Anders was this entranced by a simple kiss from Fenris then… What was there for Hawke for worry about?


“Hmm,” Fenris’ was teasing Anders’ bright red ear, smirking at Hawke, working both of them like they were clay in his hands. “Don’t get any ideas, mage, I intend to keep Hawke but it does not mean I won’t share. All you need is a taste for now.”


“Yes, yes. Please…” Anders was transfixed, staring at Fenris with a reverence and awe that Hawke could relate to. Fenris was pulling so much strength and command into his voice, enough that Hawke could feel the tremors of anticipation trembling through Anders’ half-bare body.


“Undress for him first,” Fenris instructed, his eyes fixed on Anders’ as if he was watching for discomfort. The attentiveness made Hawke’s own nerves relax, he knew he could trust Fenris. “I am sure you are already hard, aren’t you mage?”


Anders’ eyelashes fluttered as Fenris’ fingers trailed from his ear along his jaw, down his throat and to the waistband of his flimsy trousers. Hawke bit back a groan as he noticed what Fenris had, clearly, seen before him. Anders was visibly hard, tented and straining against the thin fabric of his trousers.


Fenris sat back, leaning on the heels of his hands watching as Anders flushed deeply, eyes flicking between the two of them shyly.


“Go on,” Hawke encouraged, reaching down to palm at his rapidly hardening cock.


Anders sat up, balancing on his heels, and untied the knot that drew his trousers closed. As soon as it was untied it fell away, like cobwebs, Anders’ long thin cock breaking through the folds eagerly. Fenris glanced at Hawke, smirking when he saw Hawke was reaching under his waistband.


Anders shimmied out of the garment, tossing it to the floor and looking to Fenris for direction. Fenris was slowly undoing the closures at the front of his tunic, smirking at Anders’ attention.


“I’m going to fuck you,” Fenris said, his voice suddenly soft. They stared at each other intensely and Hawke realized that Fenris was asking , watching for a response. Anders was staring at him in disbelief, one of his hands wandering toward his cock before Fenris corrected him with a light tsk. “You may tend to Hawke, mage, but I will your lower half.”


Anders swallowed hard, his eyes flicking between Fenris and Hawke. He nudged up on his knees, needy, and Fenris held his face sweetly. Fenris pulled away his tunic, revealing his marked chest, to a soft gasp from Anders.


Hawke’s cock was hard and aching in his hand and he felt foolish sitting on the other side of the bed with his trousers still on. He sat up quickly, showing his approval of the situation by whipping the garment off. Anders was staring unabashedly when Hawke looked up, Fenris’s hands at both his hair and now at his cock.


Anders whimpered at Fenris’ touch, contorting and then twisting against him. Fenris was watching Hawke now, watching as he fisted his hard cock at the sight of them. The corners of Hawke’s vision were fuzzy, blurred by the early hour and the last drops of drink still in his system. It warmed him, made the scene in front of him all the more alluring.


“Go,” Fenris pushed Anders lightly, releasing his cock. Anders fell to his hands, looking up at Hawke with those honeyed eyes through the mess of blond hair as he crawled across the bed towards him. “He has a nice cock doesn’t he, mage?”


Anders moaned, his hands sliding across the bed on either side of Hawke’s thick bent legs. His back arched behind him like a yawning cat, longer and more gangly than Fenris, all knees and elbows. Something about it was incredibly endearing, and the unabashed desire in Anders’ eyes made Hawke want to take him. Evidently, Fenris felt the same, upon his knees behind Anders, his hands running comfortingly down his back and over his ass.


Anders was hovering over Hawke’s cock when he let out a whine, a tremor running through his body at the touch, “Fenris, please, I…”


Fenris’ ears perked behind Anders, “Please what?”


Anders planted his face on the bed, next to Hawke’s thigh. He whined again, his ears bright red and Hawke couldn’t help but stroke his hair comfortingly.


“Tell me, mage,” Fenris was rubbing long strokes up and down Anders’ thighs and ass, a lazy smile on his face when his eyes met Hawke’s. “You can swallow Hawke down if you want, can’t he Hawke?”


Nerves fluttered into a flame in Hawke’s stomach as he nodded, “Yes of course.”


Anders groaned against the mattress again, wavering on his knees, wriggling his ass in front of Fenris. Fenris frowned and nodded towards him, pushing Hawke to do something.


“You alright? We can stop if you don’t want to…” Hawke asked, stroking Anders’ back.


Anders turned his head, one wide eye blinking up, “N-no, I just want…” Anders stammered, face completely flushed. His voice dropped to a whisper, private between him and Hawke, “I want Fenris to… punish me.”


Fenris bit down a laugh, clearly still able to hear Anders despite his conspiratorial whisper. The wobbling mage light caught a mischievous flash in Fenris’ eyes as Hawke watched him lift a hand and slap Anders’ ass.  


Anders cried out, hands gripping the bedspread under him, arching his back even further .


“You can suck cock and take this, can’t you?” Fenris teased, rubbing a reassuring circle against Anders’ ass.


Anders didn't even answer, just scrambled into Hawke lap, the wet heat of his mouth latching to the thick swell of Hawke’s sac. Hawke groaned, Anders’ lips sucking him into his mouth, surrounded by the wet suction as Anders suckled eagerly, his nose brushing against the base of Hawke’s shaft.


Fenris chuckled lowly, watching Hawke’s reactions with a warm smile. Hawke wondered distantly what has inspired Fenris to instigate a scene like this if he had thought about it before if he had secretly been planning a way to see Hawke be ravished by another. His thoughts were cut off by another sharp slap at Anders’ ass. Anders whimpered against his balls, sucking and tonguing with even more vigour as Fenris followed with another and another and another .


Anders was slack-jawed, moaning and whimpering with rolling eyes against Hawke’s cock. Hawke couldn’t help but rut against Anders’ slack face, rubbing his balls and the base of his cock against his open moaning mouth as Fenris continued to spank him. Hawke’s shaft ground against Anders’ face lewdly, his hands holding the mage’s head as he thrust against him.


The ear-piercing slaps stopped and Fenris cooed softly, stroking reassuringly. Anders blinked warily, turning and finding the head of Hawke’s cock with those already swollen lips. Hawke moaned as Anders took his readily, lapping at his underside as his lips stretched around his girth. Fenris was watching, smile quirked on his lips as he continued to smooth out the sting that was surely deep in Anders’ cheeks.


Hawke closed his eyes, tipped his head back as Anders bobbed happily on his cock. His fingers wrapped around the base of Hawke’s shaft, gripping and stroking him up into his sloppy mouth. Salvia slick, dripping down into the bed of hair at his base, wet heat surrounding him. It felt different to when Fenris sucked him down, more clumsy somehow, but confident and eager. Practised refinement replaced with a desperate almost rushed attention. As if Anders feared it would end before he was ready.


Anders whimpered and Hawke opened his eyes to see that Fenris had disposed of his leggings, bottle of oil in one hand as his other… Hawke groaned, his cock twitching at the thought of Fenris preparing Anders’ hole. He wanted to watch Fenris take him, wanted to feel every thrust as Anders was shoved deeper and deeper onto his own cock.


“How does he feel?” Hawke asked, feeling emboldened, gripping Anders’ loose hair and guiding him up and down on his cock.


Fenris chuckled low, his ears twitching in an expression that Hawke knew to be a slight embarrassment, “Tight, but soft. Relax, mage, don’t you want me inside you?”


Anders moaned around Hawke’s cock, his shoulders slumping as he leaned heavily against Hawke’s thighs. He could feel Anders relax, his body warm and loose as his throat opened up to allow him deeper and deeper on each lazy bob of his blond head.


Time seemed to slip by and compound, Anders kitten licks and lazy, long lulls of his head up and down on Hawke’s head both felt like they had just started and been going on for hours. Fenris was working his ass expertly, Hawke could tell by the gasps and moans and pitched eyebrows Anders had on display. Tears were welling in the corners of Anders’ eyes, overwhelmed, Hawke’s cock twitching deep in his throat.


Fenris finally pulled his slicked fingers away and Hawke watched as he rubbed the wetness on his cock. He poured oil over his beautiful prick, slicking it up generously as Hawke sighed at the sight. They met eyes as Fenris readied himself behind Anders, smiles pulling on both their faces, this shared experience more fun than either had anticipated.


“Ready for me?” Fenris breathed, and from his motions and Anders’ wide eyes, Hawke knew Fenris was rubbing himself against Anders’ slacked hole.


Anders came off of Hawke’s cock with a wet pop, “ Please …”


Anders cried out, a high strangled noise that twisted into a deep, long moan that filled the small room. Fenris’ hands were gripping his bony hips, rolling slowly and shallowly against him, slowly inching his way inside. Anders’ welled tears were falling now, streaked down his face, catching the mage light so they glimmered.


Fenris was fully sheathed inside of him, stroking along his spine as he cooed encouragingly, allowing him to adjust to his cock. Hawke wiped one of the tears from Anders’ face, cupping the side of his face to guide him upwards. Anders’ jaw went slack, eyes glazed, ready to take his cock again.


“You alright?” Hawke asked and Fenris’ ears twitched as he slowed and listened.


Anders blinked lazily, slow and thick with arousal.


“Of course,” He breathed, flicking out his pink tongue over the tip of Hawke’s cock.


“Tap on Hawke if it's ever too much, if you want to stop,” Fenris instructed, voice firm.


Anders nodded quickly, adjusting himself to take Hawke’s cock again. Fenris met Hawke’s gaze, gave a curt nod, Hawke returned it, they were fine. Anders was fine. Fenris began to fuck him.


Anders whined, moaned and rocked on his knees as he let his jaw go slack. Every thrust from Fenris into Anders’ ass pushed him onto Hawke’s cock, his loose jaw allowing him deeper on every rocking thrust. It felt amazing. Hawke couldn’t help himself, had to tighten his grip in Anders’ hair as he watched Fenris rut at their friends’ ass. Fenris was gripping Anders’ hips hard, minute smile vanishing only to quietly gasp and moan at his own pleasure.


The sounds were overwhelming, Fenris slapping against Anders’ already-raw cheeks, the wet sounds of Fenris’ slicked cock working in and out of Anders hole. Anders moaned and gagged, gurgling wetly as Hawke began to thrust up into him, pushing at his throat as he held him in place. Both ends of him being fucked, being used, by people he probably never expected to be spit-roasted between. Something about it felt wrong, but something stronger made it feel so right .


Hawke wanted to take care of Anders, to fuck the tears out of him, to give him something he could hold onto. He wanted him and Fenris to help him in the only way he knew they could. Their cocks fucking and pushing and giving Anders everything he needed. Anders was staring up at Hawke now, tears flowing freely, breathing furiously through his nose as Hawke fucked into the tightness of his throat.


Anders was nothing more than a toy for them, a plaything for their cocks, and Hawke had to look away from his tear-stained face to Fenris’. A dark pleasure over him, teeth bared as he smiled, eyes closing in private pleasure as he pumped into Anders at an impressive speed, rabbit-style thrusts.


Anders broke off of Hawke’s cock, moaning louder than before, “Fuck, fuck. I’m going to-”


A sharp slap at his ass and Anders sobbed, “Not yet,” Fenris hissed, eyes meeting Hawke’s, “Swallow Hawke’s first.”


A hot knot of pleasure tightened in Hawke’s abdomen, his balls tightening at the command. Anders met his eyes, wild with need and desire before he sucked down on Hawke’s cock again. Tongue lavishing, pulling him past the tight muscle at the back of his mouth. Hawke pushed down on Anders’ head, pinning him with his cock lodged inside. Anders gagged, drool dripping from his lips, as Hawke came with a shout.


Anders swallowed him, his throat and mouth tightening around Hawke as he milked him clean. Hawke shoved him off, suddenly oversensitive, and groaned as Anders opened his mouth to show him the come still pooled on his tongue.


“Good,” Fenris grunted, grabbing Anders’ forearms and wrenching them back suddenly. Anders whimpered, allowing Fenris to rearranged him, gripping his thin wrists and pulling him back so his chest arched over Hawke.  “You can come on Hawke when you’re ready, mage.”


Anders groaned as Fenris fucked into him, rough, punishing. His cock was flushed an angry red, untouched, it and his balls bouncing in the air in front of Hawke as Fenris worked him. Hawke was spent, his cock soft against his thigh as he laid back and watched. Anders had tears falling down his cheeks again, soft moans pulled from him on every thrust as sweat beaded on his forehead and on his chest.


“Come on me,” Hawke teased, reaching to tweak one of Anders’ small hard nipples. “Make me a mess.”


Anders sobbed, his cock bouncing helplessly. Fenris pulled him enough to latch his mouth onto his shoulder, biting fiercely as he thrust up into him. Anders screeched, his cock twitching, Hawke sat forward, reaching, pumping that thin cock until it burst seed all over his hand and chest.


Anders blinked dumbly as he moaned through his climax, blindsided, Fenris kissing his shoulder as he fucked him slowly through it.


Anders was trembling as Fenris loosened his grip on his wrists, “Lick it up,” He purred, “I’m almost done.”


Hawke caressed Anders’ flushed, sweaty face as he stumbled down to Hawke’s broad chest. He groaned as his tongue flicked out to lick up his own seed, cleaning Hawke’s chest hair of the creamy mess.


Fenris’ eyes were closed in concentration, mouth open and breathing heavily as his lyrium sparked just slightly under the surface. Hawke watched as his eyebrows knit, almost guilty, as he twitched and held onto Anders. Anders whimpered, and Hawke knew Fenris had emptied himself inside of the mage’s used ass.


The next movements were a blur, Fenris carefully sliding from Anders’ hole, Anders falling flat against Hawke’s damp chest, Fenris stroking up Anders’ back and finding Hawke’s lips as the mage light dimmed. They were entangled, oil and come slick between them, hands stroking dewy skin, Anders’ deep rattling breaths as the last sobs emptied from him.


“I’m okay,” Anders’ voice croaked in the dark.


“Are you?” Fenris asked from where he was curled against Hawke.


“I needed that,” Anders asserted, sniffling, “I needed that.”

Chapter Text

Fenris coughed and hacked against the gas, his sharp gauntleted hand prying at his chest plate in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure as his lungs constricted against the fumes. Anders was doubled over, sounding as terrible as Fenris felt, spitting up something phlegmy and off-colour onto the ground near the bodies of the slavers he had just helped Fenris fell.


They were in the underused tunnels beneath Kirkwall, twisting misconceived crypts that connected the ‘safer’ parts of Dark Town. Fenris was attempting to deliver Anders to a couple liberated prisoners of a slave ring that Fenris had been tracking, refugees and other vulnerable people who had gotten caught and were currently suffering from minor injuries and sickness. Fenris had been confident that he had disposed of all the slavers, but evidently, he did not.


The slavers had tracked them since the clinic, most likely, Fenris wasn’t exactly subtle in his dealings. There had only been three of them, easy to deal with, but the smoke bomb was unexpected.


“You alright?” Anders asked, eyes welling and red as he held down a cough. The fumes were dying down, but it was probably too late by now. They both had breathed it in before they realized.


“No,” Fenris croaked between rattling coughs, his ribs aching. He took a few unsteady steps away from the bodies, easing himself down on a ledge to try and regain his breath. “Do you think it was poison?”


Anders followed, holding his chest as his breath slowly evened out, eyes narrowed in thought, “I don’t think so. But just to be safe I should try and dispel whatever it was…”


Fenris looked up at Anders expectantly but found his vision was double. A thick, warm fog swirled in his mind, easing through his body in a faint and vaguely familiar tingle. Anders was frowning at him, seemingly lost as the gas’ effects started to shift through him as well. Fenris felt warm, pleasantly so, his muscles relaxing as the tension in his body began to fall away. He was loose suddenly, tingling in his fingertips and -


“Anders,” Fenris said, too loud as his eyes snapped wide. “Dispel it, now.”


Anders swayed on the spot, his eyes soft and lidded before he blinked in surprise at the urgency in Fenris’ voice. He lifted a hand, the magic gathering in a faint glow before his hand fell to catch himself at his knee. He was shaking, his breath rolling in small shallow bursts. A visible shiver ran over him, his trembling reaching his head to shake vehemently.


“It’s not poison,” The mage blurted, forced past gritted teeth as he hunched. His fists were balled on his knees and Fenris couldn’t help but…


Fenris shook his head, “I know this, its-” He swallowed hard, looking everywhere but Anders in a helpless desperation. “Aphrodisiac.”


Anders’ breath was almost a pant, Fenris’ mind spiking unpleasantly at the thought of him becoming as aroused as he suddenly was.


“Why would-” Anders was struggling, his voice strained. Fenris’ ears perked as the mage moved closer to him, unable to stop himself from tonguing his lips. They felt swollen. “What possible-”


Fenris laughed, hysterical, scared. He clawed at the damp, old stone beneath him, shifting away as Anders crept up to claw at it for stability.


“Why do you think ?” Fenris snarled, turning away. His ears were burning, his cock was shifting in his leggings. It was impossible to fight it, no matter how hard he gritted his teeth or reminded himself that it was Anders who was sitting next to him. The last person he would ever want to be aroused by.


Hatred burned deep inside, stirring him. His body was too sensitive, the supple leathers suddenly too much, rubbing him with every shift. He was too hot, his sac thick between his trembling thighs as he spread his legs against the tide. As if someone was wrenching them apart. He had felt the effects of these concoctions before, drugged by large doses and set upon slaves, or bound down to be touched everywhere by Danarius’-


Fenris groaned, grabbing his head with the sharp points of his gauntlets. They dug in, pulling at his hair, pinprick pain that rose with the mounting and overwhelming heat .


Anders pressed close, the warmth of his body like a magnet. Fenris turned, his vision fuzzy, and almost fell onto him. He felt boneless, weak, and Anders was already reaching for him.


“Fenris?” Anders’ voice was warm, like honey dripping over his lips. Ugh.


“What?” Fenris’ gaze flicked up to Anders, his body aching, his cock painfully hard between his open thighs. He wanted to press himself against the mage, to have their skin touch, to have the other man do whatever he wanted to him. He hated it, but he knew the only way he could try and get this out of his system was to just climax…


“You, you look so handsome ,” Anders’ eyebrows knit as if he was telling the truth. It made Fenris draw closer, drawn in as if he was being controlled. He was in a way, wasn’t he? They were friends, weren’t they? But those words, they reeled him in helplessly until his chest plate was touching his robes…


“...What?” Fenris blinked against the arousal, thick as if he were drunk, out of his mind. He wanted to hear it again.


“I never really noticed,” Anders was whispering, leaning in, eyes flicking over Fenris’ face with a reverence. “You’re so strong, intimidating. But you are so handsome .”


Handsome. The word sent sparks down Fenris’ spine. Anders’ hand was at his back, fingertips tracing down the slit against his spine. He wanted more. He wanted none of it. He wanted…


“Can you…” The request twisted into a surprised gasp, Anders’ second hand at his thigh. The mage leaned in close, nuzzling against Fenris’ jaw. Anders squeezed his thigh and Fenris felt a bead of precum pearl almost painfully from his cock, still trapped in his leggings.


“That’s it,” Anders whispered between trailing kisses along Fenris’ jaw. Too close. Too warm. Fenris could feel the soft prickle of his unshorn face. “That’s good, let me treat you…”


“Mage-” Fenris snarled, his hips bucking despite the sudden break through the aphrodisiac’s hold. “We can’t, someone will…” What? Walk in? No one frequented these tunnels. No one needed to know. It wasn’t like he could fight it, even though he very much wanted to, he couldn’t pull against the animal inside of him that just-


Anders pulled away, “Are you- Can I-?” His face was flushed bright red, his lips wet and swollen from where he had started sucking on Fenris’ neck.


Fenris grabbed the back of Anders’ head, the mage groaning deliciously deep in his throat as gauntlets tightened around his stupid little ponytail.


“Don’t ask-” Fenris hissed, twisting until he was grinding against Anders’ knee. His cock aching for friction, for release, for this man to use him. Anders moaned, hands wrapping around Fenris’ hips, fingers pulling up the hem of his tunic.


“I got you,” Anders pulled Fenris’ tunic up clumsily, uncaring. Just enough to expose the laces to his too-tight leggings. “You’re so hot, fuck, so strong-”


Fenris yanked on Anders’ head, fighting between conflicting urges as Anders groaned louder and fumbled at the laces of his leggings. Fenris wanted this to be over with, his cock aching for touch, any touch. It didn’t matter. Just another unfavourable notch. But the mage’s soft words, his pleas of longing and throaty moans broke something under Fenris’ surface.


Fenris latched his lips against Anders’ throat, sucking on his adam’s apple and pressing his teeth in ever so slightly. Anders whined pitifully, the laces flew open and Fenris groaned against Anders’ skin as his prick was finally released.


Anders’ hand wrapped around his length, pulled him from the tangle of fabric and Fenris was set to burst already. Fenris’ gauntleted hand tightened against the mage’s scalp, sucking messily at his throat, his second hand reaching under the first layer of robe to possessively squeeze above his hip.


Fenris didn’t want Anders to get the wrong idea. He needed the mage to jerk him off to completion, but it didn’t mean anything. He was sure Anders felt the same way, his grip on Fenris’ cock too tight to be considered anything close to romantic. Fenris bucked up into the hand, his balls too full, his orgasm caught behind them as if he had been tormented for hours.


“You feel so good, your cock looks amazing..” Anders was gasping, his voice vibrating against Fenris’ lips, his breath hot against Fenris’ twitching ears. “Fuck, touch me, please.”


Fenris opened his eyes to lazily watch Anders’ eyelashes flutter, biting down hard on his lip between mumbled praise. He would touch him. Part of him couldn’t believe how easily he gave in, but a louder, more forceful part of him wanted to pump the mages’ cock so good that he would never forget. Fenris might be able to close out the images of his own come spurted and dripping down Anders’ hand, but he knew it wouldn’t be so easy for him.


“You’re gonna be good for me aren’t you?” Fenris purred, barely recognizing his voice. Anders whimpered, his hand on Fenris’ cock flagging for just a moment before stroking him harder . It looked like the mage was just as turned on by praise as Fenris was.


“Maker, yes, please, I want you. I want you to jerk me off with your lyrium hand-” The words slurred together, his free hand gathering and throwing up the skirts of his robes to expose himself. Fenris pulled away, dropping Anders’ hair to hastily rip his gauntlet from his arm, letting it clatter to the stone ground under them.


Anders was watching him with unveiled desire, his face several shades redder. Fenris might have wondered if the mage held a secret flame for him if he wasn’t rock hard and desperate to get the both of them off.


Fenris was upon Anders, shoving him down against the stone slab. His back hit the stone with a surprised grunt, blinking up wildly as he wrapped his fingers around Fenris’ aching cock again. Fenris groaned low in his throat, pinning Anders with his armoured hand flat against his chest, his freed hand roaming along Ander’s legs and up towards his cock. Fenris’s eyes flicked down to his hand wrapped around Anders’ length, the lyrium in his brands glowing ever so slightly as he spread the precum across its head with his thumb.


“Oh Maker , yes, yes, yes-” Anders sputtered underneath him. His other hand reached around Fenris, gripping the swell of his ass as Fenris rutted into the mage’s hand. Fenris was pumping him properly now and could tell that Anders was already so close. “Fenris, Fenris-”


Fenris’ mouth closed over Anders’ in an act that was almost a kiss but instead became a growling show of force. Fenris took Anders’ lower lip between his teeth, kneading and rolling the sensitive skin. Anders moaned, pumping Fenris’ cock in a frenzy and all Fenris could hear was the huffing and puffing of their laboured breaths and heightening moans.


Fenris imagined flipping the mage over and fucking his hole, raw and unprepared and the wanton noises he knew he would make. He liked rough treatment, that much was obvious, and Fenris’ mind was aflame of how much more he could do. His sac ached, drawing tight.


“Such a good slut for me,” Fenris breathed, letting go of Anders’ mouth. “Treating my cock so nice, so good at this aren’t you?”


It seemed to be too much for Anders, his moans turning into heightened cries as he thrust up against Fenris, “You feel so good, you’re so fucking strong, come on me like this-”


Something slid into place inside of Fenris as if the simple permission had unlocked his orgasm. He cried out, his entire body shook with a heightened frenzy as his cock emptied. Stars burst in his eyes, trailing down like electricity down his spine, thrashing against the wave of pleasure until his eyes rolled back into his head.


Gasping, he looked down to catch the last forceful spurt of come burst from his cock across Anders’ exposed thighs, his cock and robes. Anders whimpered under Fenris’ weight, his own cock red as a rattling orgasm took him, seed oozing down Fenris’ hand and joining his own where it cooled.


Their breaths slowed but Fenris dared not move for one long, agonizing moment. Anders swallowed hard, eyes wet as he averted them quickly, somehow becoming even redder.


“Get off me,” His voice croaked and Fenris compiled without hesitation. He pulled away, letting Anders’ prick fall thickly into his robes. He turned to right his leggings, ears pinned and needles and needles across his body.  


“It was the aphrodisiac,” Fenris clarified to the both of them, giving Anders a moment to recollect himself. Shame welled in his stomach, they should not have done that, even if the release had been amazing it wasn’t something he wanted to go misunderstood. “We had no choice. The only way to work it out of your system is to see it to completion.”


“Shut up,” Anders breathed behind Fenris. Fenris felt guilty, strangely enough, as if he was the one who had made this situation happen between them.


Fenris turned cautiously, saw Anders sitting up with his head in his hands, his ears a dark red.


“It would be best if we forgot about this,” Fenris asserted, already compressing the moment into a hard stone in his mind. “No one needs to know.”


Anders huffed what might have been a laugh before he peeked at Fenris through parted fingers, “Oh, definitely, if you tell anyone I will-”


Fenris laughed, absurdly, “Trust me mage, this is the last thing I want anyone knowing.”

Chapter Text

Fenris only had eyes for Isabella that night. She preened under his gaze, only too happy to reward his attention with a little more to look at. She crossed her arms onto the long pub table, pushing her breasts together. They met eyes for a brief instant before Isabela looked away with a smile. He hadn’t said anything but he didn’t need to, Isabella had become familiar with that look.

For years Fenris could barely unfold his brow, glowering down everything in his path. As if he couldn’t see past the tightly wound deadly instincts he carried. Every shadow and corner glared at until he decided it didn’t hide something life-threatening. It had carried with him to the Hanged Man almost every night, even as he slowly softened and learned to take a moment to enjoy himself every now and then. But even back then, Isabella found herself running her eyes over his tattooed skin, wondering if she could work those kinks out herself.

It had taken some work. Fenris liked to play hard to get. But now they had a rapport, one that didn’t even require hours of drinking to achieve. They had taken it slow, chipping away at the thick walls Fenris encased himself in. It started with soft wet kisses in the dark corners of the tavern, trailing to long nights talking about their past, building until he finally bit back.

Now it was like this: They would speak nothing of it, but they would begin to catch each other’s eye, long lingering and intense. Isabella would smile and Fenris would smile back before turning away to let his hair cover his eyes. He would look back when he thought she wouldn’t see, hunger and need building in those beautiful green eyes of his. They would continue, as they were doing right now, with Isabella pushing it as far as she could before he would finally crack.

Hawke was telling some boring story about the viscount, everyone listening except Isabella and Fenris. Isabella was tracing the condensation on her tankard, lazily circling the dew drops under her finger. Fenris shifted and Isabella flicked her eyes towards him, his ears pinned back in an adorable expression of self-restraint. She leaned further over the table, giving him more to look at as she brushed her foot against his leg under the table, crossing her legs.

Fenris huffed and stood from the table, shoving away from it as if it had offended him. Everyone looked up in surprise.

“Everything alright, elf?” Varric asked from the other end of the table.

Isabella smirked up at Fenris who was turning to the rest of the group as if he had forgotten they were there, “Everything is fine, dwarf.”

Isabella peeked down the table, feigning innocence as Fenris excused himself from the group. It wasn’t exactly secret that Fenris and Isabella were ‘seeing’ each other. Fenris had been more open and forward about it than Isabella had expected. But everyone seemed keen to ignore it, except for Varric, who occasionally smirked in Isabella’s direction.

“I think you should go check on him,” Varric smirked towards Isabella, yeah just like that. “Make sure he’s okay.”

“Oooh I think you’re right, Varric,” Isabella cooed, mocking concern as she slipped from her seat. “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of, don’t worry.”

“Maker, spare us,” Aveline groaned.

Isabella snickered, skipping away from the table and towards the stairs. She didn’t care what the others thought, she was the lucky one who got to bed the handsome brooding elf!

Fenris was pacing in the hall outside of her room staring at the floorboards until an ear twitched in her direction. He met her eyes and Isabella shivered at the pure need within them. No one knew Fenris like she did, that raw passion and that hunger. She closed the distance between them, pushing Fenris by his steel breastplate against her door and kissed him.

Wet, rushed, pressing, Fenris growled against her lips as she bit him. He kissed back as if it were a battle, seeking, his tongue flicking in her mouth as she fumbled for her room key. His gauntleted hands were already around her waist, the pointed edges catching on her dress as he possessively spread across her.

Isabella pulled off of him when she found her key. She smirked at the dazed look in Fenris’ eye, the way he always looked at her in these moments like he was in awe of her. She liked it. It suited her.

“Well, aren’t we eager,” Isabella purred, keeping Fenris pinned to the door as she unlocked it. “I have a surprise for you.”

Fenris shifted under Isabella as she opened the door, moving with it as his expression changed, his eyes narrowing, “A surprise?”

Isabella nodded quickly, grin spreading across her face as she led him inside, “You said something last time you were here and it got me thinking…” Isabella hummed playfully, trying to ease the suspicion Fenris was squinting at her, “You’ll like it, I promise.”

“I am not especially fond of surprises…” Fenris grumbled, his voice trailing as Isabella dropped her daggers to the floor and quickly began to undo her armor from her arm. “What exactly-”

“Shut up and take that armor off, handsome,” Isabela winked as Fenris blinked in shock, but quickly followed her lead.

Isabela dropped the last of her gloves and armor to the floor, watching as Fenris pried off one gauntlet and then the other. His ears pinned as he blinked rapidly, the only tell that he was flushing somewhere under that warm skin of his. He had told her once that he actually enjoyed when she told him what to do. Something about being direct and taking the guesswork out of it. Romance wasn’t something Fenris was experienced with, and lucky for him it wasn’t what Isabela was interested in.

But Isabela knew how to make a man happy, even if she was with a man as complicated and fraught as Fenris. It hadn’t taken long to discover what he liked, what boundaries she could push him to, what would bring his arousal to a delicious boil. Her surprise would test a lot of that tonight but she was confident, she knew she would just need to ride him out softly until it was time.

Fenris’ spiky armor was put aside, his lanky body hidden only by the thin tunic and leggings he wore. He looked up at her under a shield of his hair, having one of his shy moments, as if they hadn’t done this a dozen times already. Isabela took the lead, running her hands up his chest slowly as she pushed him back towards the cot. Hard muscle separated only by a thin leather, Fenris let himself be guided without challenge, watching her with an intense gaze as she pushed him to sit.

The cot groaned as she pressed her knee against it, locking lips with Fenris as she coaxed him to sit back farther, to let her straddle him. His hands were at her back, supporting her and running down the laces of her corset as if she were a harp.

“Sit back,” She breathed against his lips, her bottom lip caught in his teeth. “Let me give you something to look at.”

Fenris groaned and Isabela smirked as she felt him stir gently beneath her. She lifted on her knees and rolled her hips just above him. The ghost of a touch, she writhed over him, dancing slowly as Fenris watched her with wide eyes. She brushed the hair from his eyes, arching and rolling, tsking him softly when he tried to touch.

“Just your eyes, Fenris,” She cooed, Fenris’ eyebrows pitching in a silent plea as he dropped his hands. Something shifted in his eyes and Isabela distantly wondered for a moment if he had been told something like this before, if he was remembering being unallowed to touch another. She didn’t care, she knew he would enjoy it.

Isabela continued to dance, lowering onto Fenris’ lap to grind and tease before lifting out of reach. She tugged on the corset laces at her back, loosening until it fell away completely. Her breasts fell softly from their hold, loose under her dress as Fenris’ eyes immediately fell to them, level with his face. Isabela chuckled low, knowing how much Fenris loved to play with her chest, and how torturous it must be for him to be so close to them and not allowed to touch.

She pressed her chest against his, savouring the weak needy sound he made, his fingers tightening on the sheet beneath him. Her breasts were hardly contained, heaving against the laces of her dress as she pressed onto him. His ears pinned and a shuddered breath escaped him. She leaned back, humming gently as she ground her ass expertly on his lap. She could feel him harden under her and revelled in the power he gave her. The honest arousal, the gentle whine, Fenris was undone so easily in her hands and she adored him for it.

Fenris’ eyes darted back to her chest as she raised a hand to the laces that held them. Her nipples were hard, visible through her dress. Fenris groaned in urgency as she slowly pulled at the lace, teasing, the knot slowly slipping and coming apart as easily as Fenris. Her breasts were heavy against the fabric, coaxing their way out thickly as Fenris watched. Isabela tugged on the remaining cinch of the laces, freeing herself as Fenris groaned low.

His arms were trembling at his sides when she stood again, chuckling, “Like what you see?”

She turned before Fenris could answer with another groan growling from him. She swayed in front of him to the music in her head, backing up slowly as she rolled her hips. Her thighs pressed against Fenris, her ass finding his lap and his hardening cock. She shimmied, rolling her hips suggestively over him, teasing.

Fenris cursed. Isabela decided she had tortured him enough, twirling off and grinning at him from under her lidded lashes.

“You want to touch?” She teased.

Fenris set his jaw, his eyes pleading where his voice seemed to have failed him. He was fun to tease in this way, swinging passionately from timid nerves to unbridled passion so easily. He never presumed anything, never asked, and always so eager to please. She knew why. And although she would never admit it, it was part of what made him so delicious in bed.

She felt like the captain of his body, a ship rocking on a tide of his emotions as the storm of his past life battered against the sail. All she wanted was to give him more than anyone had before, to savour the sweetness that had grown in all that salt, to pull him from the ocean and see him live another day.

“Come on,” Isabela teased again, taking one of her breasts in hand to gently squeeze in invitation. “Don’t you want to touch me? Run your tongue along me?”

Fenris blinked slowly, his eyebrows pinching in a nearly pained expression as he sat on the cot, his cock hard within his leggings.

Please,” Fenris nearly croaked. Eyes widening as Isabella tugged her dress off, completely naked save for her smallclothes. “Please, Isabela, please.”

He begged so easily and so sweetly. Isabela wanted to spoil him. She smirked down at him as she climbed back into his lap, the soft leather of his tunic and leggings tickling her exposed skin as she held the back of his head and guided him into a deep, lingering kiss. She pressed and he bent, leaning back on the trembling support of his usually strong arms. She flattened him to the cot, his hair brushing the far wall as he aggressively matched her possessive kisses.

Isabela came up for breath, Fenris dazed and flat beneath her, his hair framing him like a halo of white light, “Go on then,” She teased, shifting so her chest hovered just above his. “Touch me.”

Fenris touched her. His hands grazing up along the curve of her back, through her hair and she hummed at his sweetness. He cupped her face in his hands and pulled her back into another kiss and Isabela melted at how soft and gentle Fenris was when given the chance. Underneath all that armor was someone more sentimental and romantic than anyone would have expected. Even if that wasn’t what they were, or what this was, it was appreciated all the same.

He broke away and found her chest, shuddering a breath as he gently took hold of her breasts. Isabela moaned softly, his hands gently squeezing into that softness and pushing them together, his eyes filled with awe. He loved her breasts, he had told her more than once. Isabela knew he liked men as well and knew a little about his past in Tevinter, but the way he responded to her body told her much, much more.

The first time they had slept together he had openly fixated, soaking up the sights and sensations of her chest and the wet folds between her legs like a starving man taking his first bite of a proper meal. He was not inexperienced, not in the least, but it was clear that he had not had the experiences he had wanted. It made Isabela wonder, though she dared not to ask, knowing that pointing any of this out to him would make him close up tighter than a clam.

All that mattered was that she could give him this and that he was so so damn good at ravishing her body.

Fenris’ mouth was on her now, sucking and lapping at her hard nipple as he teased the other in his hand. Isabela could barely contain the moans that poured from her slack mouth. She was wet, hungry for more, and she wanted to show him her surprise.

But not before she pulled away from him just to shove her chest in his face. Fenris muffled in surprise as she chuckled, his mouth opening on her skin to taste her as he thrust up against her small clothes. Oh. He was hard.

His arms wrapped around her as he thrust again and Isabela cried out with a laugh, “Oooh, you’re an animal, Fenris. Down boy!”

Fenris freed himself from her breasts just enough to match her with a challenging, mischievous glare. He held on tighter and thrust faster against her, clear rebellion as he growled and ran his teeth along one of her breasts. Isabela couldn’t tell if he was trying to prove her wrong or right.

Isabela tapped against the mattress next to Fenris’ head and he immediately stopped and let go, watching her curiously as she sat up. “Did you want your surprise now?”

Fenris blinked and his expression was wiped clean from his face, “What is the surprise?”

Isabela grinned, stuck her tongue out between her teeth and leapt off the cot. She shimmied out of her small clothes, giving Fenris a good view of her ass as she did, and retrieved the new treasure she had acquired just for him. She turned back to him with it in her hands, a tangle of soft leather straps attached to a girthy, handsome leather-covered phallus.

Fenris’ eyes widened, “A strap-on?”

Of course he knew it on sight, Isabela couldn’t even pretend to be surprised by that, “I saw it in a Hightown shop and I thought, ‘now, who would love to let me fuck them in the ass’?”

“Did you steal it?” Fenris smirked as he sat up, slowly undoing the clasps of his tunic.

Isabela gasped in mock offence, shaking out the tangle of straps to start putting it on, “Where would I have hidden it, I ask you?”

“I could think of a few places,” Fenris chuckled, pulling off his tunic to reveal that beautifully tattooed and toned chest of his. “But are you sure about this? Have you… done that to a man before?”

Isabela wiggled herself into the straps, tightening and buckling against her plush hips as she answered, “How hard could it be? I have been fucked enough times by enough people to know what not to do.”

Fenris didn’t look completely convinced, his eyes wandering away from her to stare off as he did when he was preoccupied with his own broodiness. If only he knew how beautiful he looked like that. Isabela knew she was taking a risk with jumping this on Fenris, but how else was she supposed to bring this idea up? If he didn’t want to do it today, then she knew he would come back in a week hoarsely begging for it. He had done that with her enough for her to know his pattern.

“Alright,” Fenris consented suddenly, eyes trailing over to the dick bobbing from Isabela’ crotch as she fastened the last strap. “Let’s do it.”

Well, that was easy.

Isabela took the cock in her fist, pumping her hand along it towards Fenris as her hunger to have him this way grew, “Come on over here then. Show me how you well you can suck a cock.”

Fenris breathed a laugh of embarrassment, his ears pinning back as he stood. He peeled off his leggings without being asked, tossing them aside as his own hard cock stood at attention between his legs. He knelt down to his knees and crept up to Isabela, sneaking a few shy looks up at her before taking her cock in hand, his other hand running up her thigh to squeeze her ass where it was framed by the leather straps.

Isabela moaned as Fenris pinned her forward, taking control despite his position on the floor in front of her, grasping her ass and tonguing lazily at the underside of the phallus as it pressed against his cheek. Oh, maker. His grip at the base of the strap-on held her firmly in place, tugging and putting pressure on every strap that hugged her curves. She hadn’t expected this and her cunt began to ache in need.

Fenris made a fist around one of the straps on her hip, flicking his eyes up to her with a mischievous gleam before he took the cock in his mouth. Isabela couldn’t help but groan as she watched his wet lips part around its round head, cheeks hollowing as he closed his eyes and sunk down on the length. Isabela wished she could feel it beyond the dull feedback in the straps and the push and pull of the phallus strapped close to her mound. He was sucking with a force that moved her hips, saliva hitting her thighs as she stumbled to give him more space and herself more balance.

Fenris pulled off the fake cock with a wet pop, his lips already swollen and the cock’s leather soaked through. He gave a little crooked smile as he looked up to Isabela, “It’s been a while since I sucked a woman off.”

“Oh, is that so?” Isabela feigned indifference, which was hard to do with Fenris flicking his tongue lazily under the cock’s head as he watched her. “You don’t even seem out of practice.”

The corners of Fenris’ eyes creased just slightly as he hid his smile by taking her cock in his mouth again, failing to hide the corner of his lips curling up just slightly. Adorable. Fenris responded to compliments so much easier and sweeter in bed. A comment that would have been shrugged off and ignored regularly became something he would grin and flush over like this. As if he only knew how to receive praise when he had a cock in his mouth.

Fenris’ mouth began to wander then, tongue stroking slowly down the underside of the cock as he shifted closer to Isabela, tugging on her straps as he did. He nestled between her soft thighs and flicked his wet tongue across her slit. Isabela yelped in surprise, all her nerves lighting up as Fenris huffed a laugh and pressed his lips against hers. His tongue lapped languidly, from the bottom up all the way through her folds. He sucked eagerly at her clit, suctioning his swollen lips around it, releasing only to trace around it with the tip of his tongue.

Isabela’s legs were shaking, she gripped the nearby cot for support and moaned as Fenris’ tongue breached her, sinking into her cunt and moaning as he tasted her. His ears twitched against his thighs, his hair soft where it brushed against her and suddenly she couldn’t even think of anything besides his eager tongue lavishing her cunt.

“Ugh, Maker,” Isabela groaned, Fenris was getting so good at this. She reached down, around her forgotten cock, and took Fenris’ hair into a fist and held him there. He made a small sound of disapproval, but didn’t tap out, didn’t stop. “Just open your mouth.”

Fenris did, soft lips and tongue laid out flat against her. Isabela held tight and rocked her hips forward, grinding her aching cunt over Fenris’ tongue, over his face as she cried out in pleasure. It felt amazing, her clit rubbing over Fenris’ open mouth over and over and over. He curled his tongue in time, able to slip between her folds on every thrust, She could feel her orgasm building, every nerve on fire and her cunt tightening as she used Fenris’ face.

She cried out as her orgasm took her, pleasure bursting inside her as she stilled and trembled in the throws of it. Fenris wriggled from her grasp, one of his slender hands stroking her shaking thigh as she fell back onto the cot. She sat back, legs wide, well aware of how wet she was under the bobbing cock that sat erect above her spent cunt.

“That was amazing,” She sighed, falling back on her elbows as she moaned out through a small aftershock.

Fenris sat on the cot, legs gathered under him, his own cock flagging, “Good.” The word was dry, what was his problem? “Next time don’t hold my head unless you want me to bite.”

Isabela laughed despite herself, despite the sour look Fenris shot her, “Oh right, cause you clearly hated being down there.”

“I didn’t,” Fenris’ ears pinned, “I just do not appreciate being handled in that way.”

“Then just say that,” Isabela rolled her eyes. Fenris frowned and she instantly regretted it, wanted to smooth out those lines on his handsome face. She leaned towards him, cupping his cheek and stroking him tenderly.

The lines faded slowly until Fenris was looking to her for reassurance, and she gave it to him with a deep, wet kiss. She could taste the tang of her own orgasm on his tongue, erotic under the sweetness she tried to press into him. Fenris’ ears were pinned back in embarrassed arousal when she pulled away, smirking as she reached for his half-hard cock.

“Let me take care of you, Fenris,” Isabela cooed, stroking his length slowly with a committed grasp. His lips parted, his eyebrows pinching, the minute expressions of controlled arousal. She wanted to throttle whoever it was that taught him to hide his pleasure like this, it always took so much to make him crack and cry out earnestly.

“You have to prepare me, otherwise-” Fenris cut himself off to bite at his lower lip, his cock hardening in Isabela’s hand as she stroked him luxuriously.

“I know, trust me, just because you haven't fucked my ass doesn’t mean no one has,” Isabela smirked, pulling her feet up under her on the cot and pulling at Fenris’ folded legs.

Fenris unfolded slowly, arranging until she was kneeling between his open legs. He flushed a bit at that, his expression screwing up as he averted his eyes. Cute. Come to think of it, Isabela wasn’t sure she had ever spread his legs like this before.

He looked amazing laid out in front of her like this. Fenris’ cut cock was flush and dark against his toned stomach, his sac looked delicious between the surprising softness of his inner thighs. Elves always seemed more attractive down here than their human counterparts, in her opinion anyhow, but Fenris was more unique than that. His tattoos almost seemed to glimmer in the low light, highlighting every muscle and curve on his body. His hands twitched on the sheets, tension tight in his long limbs as he stared up at her through a veil of white hair.

Oh, that wouldn’t do. Fenris always tried to hide his nerves but there was no way to do it when he was buck naked and spread out on her cot. Isabela ran her hands up and down his soft thighs, pressing and massaging each tight muscle she found.

“Relax, sweetness,” Isabela cooed, regretting not picking up massage oil for this purpose. Had she the patience she would work every knot out of his body before easing him open. She would just have to remember that for next time. “Don’t you want me to fuck you? It’s going to feel so good.”

Fenris’ eyes lowered to watch Isabela’s hands run up and down his thighs, framing his lovely untouched cock. Isabela watched how his expression shifted in his eyes, calculating and darting this way and that. Was he reconsidering? Isabela’s hands slowed to a stop, swallowing up a sigh before it escaped her.

“I do,” Fenris nodded thoughtfully after another moment of silence. He blinked up at her shyly, “Apologies, it has been some time since anyone…” His words trailed off, he swallowed up whatever it was he was going to say.

“I promise it won’t hurt,” Isabela pinched Fenris’ thigh playfully, he barely even reacted. “Well, can’t promise, I suppose, but I’m not going to just shove it in or anything.”

“I can prepare myself,” Fenris said quickly, sitting up on his elbows, “I don’t mind, I can make quick work of it.”

Isabela made a face at the offer. While it might be fun to watch Fenris finger and stretch himself open, the readiness of his offer was troubling. Is that how they did it in Tevinter? Where was the fun in that?

“I said I would take care of you, Fenris,” Isabela planted a hand on his bare chest and pushed him down on his back. “Let me open you up nice and good.”

Fenris took a deep breath under Isabela’s palm, his chest rising and dropping slowly before he nodded. His cock was still rock hard under them, any nerves he was handling weren’t enough to flag his arousal at least. Isabela knew this would be rocky but she didn’t mind, so long as Fenris was enjoying himself she would consider the night a success.

Isabela just needed to reassure Fenris, whenever he got nervous like this she found it could be smoothed over by giving him a little something-something. He was so eager to please, so ready to follow direction and give when asked. All she needed to do was give him what he wouldn’t ask for, pleasure that was for him only.

She dropped down to Fenris’ cock and give it a long, sensuous lick from his base to the tip. Fenris groaned, his hips rising to meet her lips. Isabela smirked up at him and lapped at his slit lazily, just enough to tease, just enough to pour some pleasure over his tension. She could feel his muscles loosen under where she braced against his thigh. Perfect.

She dragged her tongue back down, coating the underside of his cock with a lush layer of her saliva. She kissed against his sac, pulling a strangled moan from Fenris as she took it in her mouth. His thighs quivered as she worked them, pulling gentling and suckling them. She pulled herself off after only a second, giggling as Fenris groaned in disappointment.

“Feeling better?” Isabela teased, throwing her hair back and settling her cheek against Fenris’ thigh.

Fenris answered with a wistful sigh. Isabela lifted and pushed herself back, urging Fenris to bend his knees up. Once his feet were flat against the cot she pulled one of his cheeks to the side, sneaking a peek of his tight entrance under where his wet sac laid heavily.

“Hey, can you hold your knees- yeah, like that,” Isabela praised as Fenris hooked his hands behind his knees, pulling them back to give her full access to him. “Maker, look at you.”

“Shut up,” Fenris breathed, if it weren’t for the dazed and lidded look he was giving her she might have actually thought he meant it.

His ass was fully exposed, the firm swell of his cheeks pulled just so, his hole presented. Stunning. Any human man would be mired with thick hair here, but elves always had such fine pubic hair, it barely obscured the fine curves and lines of him. Isabela sucked on one of her fingers and brushed it teasingly against his hole, savouring the slight whimper that escaped Fenris at the barest touch.

Smirking, Isabela hunkered down on her front, taking Fenris’ ass in hand and pulling close to swipe her tongue across the tight ring of muscle. Fenris cried out in surprise, tightening until Isabela ran her tongue against him again. He tasted dark, musky, and not even close to as bad as Isabela expected his ass would taste.

“What- You don’t-” Fenris gasped, his voice strangled in arousal and surprise as Isabela swirled the tip of her tongue along the ring of his hole, feeling it ease and loosen under her ministrations. She pulled away to see his entrance glistening from her touch, relaxed, she traced the wetness and Fenris cursed.

“You didn’t...” Fenris panted as Isabela rubbed lightly at his hole, teasing it to flutter just slightly. “You didn’t need to…”

“I know,” Isabela kissed Fenris’ thigh before she reached off the side of the bed and retrieved her bottle of oil. “I just wanted to.”

Fenris’ eyebrows were knit in a heartbreakingly beautiful expression when she looked back, disbelief and arousal painted across his face. Maker, she was dying to see how he looked with her cock sheathed in him.

Isabela sat up and poured the oil generously over her fingers, letting it drip from them down to Fenris’ sac, running down to the curve of his ass. Fenris flinched slightly at the cool touch, his toes curling where they hung in the air. Isabela stroked his hole with her oiled fingers, coating it before dipping in just slightly. Fenris was warm and tight, despite the minimal resistance. His eyes eased closed, his lips slacked in pleasure as she stroked inside, working her way into him. It wasn’t long until she had one finger firmly pressed all the way in, petting the velvet walls of Fenris’ ass. He felt amazing, every sensation causing his walls to shudder and grip her.

Maker, she almost wished she had a real cock so she could feel him. Fenris was making soft noises at every movement, his eyebrows knitting just slightly as she retrieved her finger and added another. He took her easily, faster than she ever remembered taking anything like this herself. But his breath pitched, he moaned and whimpered, clearly every touch pulling pleasure from deep inside of him.

After only a moment of feeling around, she found his prostate. He cried out, announcing it as she pressed against it. “Oh,” She cooed softly, kissing his thigh as she stroked it. Fenris shuddered, his eyes squeezed shut and he bit down hard on his lip.

“Let me hear you,” Isabela ran a calming hand down his thigh, feeling how it shook. Fenris whimpered, gasped and spat out a curse in Tevene. She smirked and fluttered her fingers against him again, his hole tightening to grip her as he cried out again.

“Fuck me,” He gasped, desperate, his voice raw. His green eyes found her in the dark, wide and needy. “Fuck me.”

“Oooh, fuck me,” Isabela chuckled, slipping her oiled fingers from Fenris. She wiped them on her phallus and poured another generous amount over its length.

Fenris let go of his legs and scampered up to his knees, arranging himself on his chest with his ass in the air. He looked back at her hungrily from where his face laid against her cot, reaching behind him to pull one of his cheeks open. Isabela groaned at the sight, the wanton and submissive position too much for her to resist.

Isabela stood at the side of the bed, pulling Fenris back by his hip and down until his hole met the wet tip of her phallus. She took it in hand, uncaring of the slicked wetness, and rubbed its head against Fenris’ stretched hole. He moaned, arching his back and writhing against the cock like a wild animal.

“Damn,” Isabela gasped, “I should have done this a long time ago.”

She gripped Fenris’ hip and pushed the cock inside of him. Slowly, so slowly. She held her breath as she watched Fenris’ hole stretch and pull her inside. Fenris was silent save for the ragged, long breaths, and she realized he was focusing, forcing himself to relax and take the length. She eased him slowly, biting her lip as his hole stretched wider and wider to accommodate the girth at the base.

Fully sheathed now, Isabela’s hips were flush against Fenris’ firm ass. She groaned, running her hands up and down Fenris’ ass, then up and down his back, “You feel my cock inside you? You like that?”

Fenris groaned brokenly, his face hidden under the tangle of his white hair. Isabela chuckled, reaching under Fenris to take his cock in her fist. Fenris whimpered, her grip ringing around his base. He was rock hard, his sac heavy, his ass full of Isabela. She didn’t know she would like it this much, they hadn’t even begun fucking and she felt drunk on the power, on the immediate pleasure that had broken Fenris into a shuddering and panting mess.

Fenris tossed his hair, turning his face to the side and looking back at Isabela with a dark, lidded expression, “Fuck me, Isabela.”

Isabela didn’t need to be asked twice. She dragged the cock back slowly, the leather straps around her hips tightening as she watched Fenris’ hole stretch around it. She pushed it back in, experimentally this time, adjusting her stance. Fenris eyes were closed blissfully as Isabela rolled her hips, found her footing and her rhythm. It was harder than she expected, but within a moment she was rolling her hips, Fenris’ hole stretched enough that it took each thrust easily.

Fenris was moaning softly, hands fisted in the sheets, and every sound and pleasure filled expression spurred Isabela on. She wanted to fuck him hard, to fuck him until he couldn’t contain his cries, until he was shaking with need and out of control. But for now this was enough, the gentle and slow but purposeful thrusts she made into him. He groaned at each one, swaying on his knees until he began to push back against her.

“Faster,” He whispered, his eyes pinned back shyly. Isabela’s cunt ached at the softness of his voice, the way he pushed back against her thrusts, the gentle slap of skin on skin at each thrust. She gripped him harder and increased her pace, thrusting from her hips as if she had always had a cock.

Fenris moaned low and long, arching deeper. Emboldened and in the moment, Isabela reached across Fenris’ body, now glistening with a sheer layer of sweat, and took his hair in a tight fist. Fenris whimpered but didn’t tap out, letting himself be dragged into a deeper arch, Isabela using his hair as an anchor as she pounded against him as hard and fast as he could.

Fenris was moaning louder and louder, his self-consciousness forgotten. Isabela could hear the soft sound of his cock slapping hard against his stomach under him and the slick lewd sounds of his ass being properly fucked.

“Fuck, Fenris, fuck,” Isabela gasped, she was sweating too now, her breasts bouncing at every forceful impact between them. “You wanna come like this? You want to come for me?”

Fenris cried out, his voice cracking on pleasure, “Wait, wait, wait…”

Isabela slowed to a stop, both of them gasping as she let go of his hair and Fenris pulled off her cock with a wet sound. His hole was open, swollen just slightly. His movements were jerky, uncoordinated as he sat up.

“Let me…” Fenris panted, dazed under the hair that had fallen over his face. “Lie back, Isabela,”

Fenris patted the mattress in invitation. Isabela dropped to the cot, only realizing now that her legs were shaking, her chest heaving as she chased her breath. She dragged herself into place, feeling the wet slick from her cunt against her thighs as she laid back, her cock wet and erect in the air.

Isabela had wanted to see Fenris overcome with pleasure, broken and unbridled of the burdens he carried. And now she felt she was seeing it. His tattoos were glowing softly in the dark, outlining every muscle and curve on his body as he straddled her. His eyes were clouded with pleasure, his lids heavy. His mouth was slacked. His cock was dripping, untouched and clearly aching for release. And here was Fenris, his legs on either side of Isabela’s, pressing his mouth needily against hers as he took her cock in hand and guided it inside of him.

He moaned into her mouth as he speared himself. Isabela could feel the distant pull of his ass against the strap-on, the pressure as he lowered himself. He kissed her desperately, possessively, as if he had something to prove. He pulled off quickly, arching backwards as he took the full length inside of him, sitting flat against Isabela’s groin.

Isabela fisted his cock and Fenris cried out in sudden surprise, blinking rapidly in shock. Oh, maker, he was too perfect. Too beautiful and handsome. Too fun to take apart in this way. Isabela just wanted him to come at this point, she didn’t care what it took, she just wanted to see him climax and melt over her.

“Go on,” She whispered, stroking him as slowly as she could.

Fenris moaned and began to bounce on her cock. He was practised at this, it was clear, and he writhed and danced so beautifully. He pounded himself without mercy, without pause, his entire weight thrusting down harder and deeper than the last one. It almost hurt, the constant weight like a punch in the gut, but Isabela didn’t care. She increased her strokes, spoiling his flushed cock as he fucked himself as fast and as hard as he could manage against her.

His moans became cries, twisted and broken and desperate. He dropped forward on one hand, his other planting over Isabela’s breast, squeezing and kneading greedily as she jerked him. He met her eyes, the rich green jewels of his eyes pleading silently. She knew what he needed, what he couldn't express or ask for. She was only too happy to give him what he wanted.

“Mmm,” She moaned deeply, “You feel so good Fenris, so good on my cock.”

Fenris locked eyes with her, whimpering softly as he slowed. He writhed purposefully on her, slow and hard with long dragging thrusts.

“That’s it,” She breathed, quickening the pace on his cock. “Come all over me, Fenris, come for me.”

Fenris made an urgent, low sound and stiffened. Isabela tightened on him, stroking through the last stuttering thrusts he made on her cock before his mouth opened on a silent cry. He came in her hand, his come streaking across her breasts as she pumped it out of him. He arched and curved with it, his eyes closed in pleasure as he shot his last long streaks over her.

Gasping and panting, Fenris curved and collapsed at Isabela’s side. Her cock lonely and wet in the air as Fenris buried his face against her side, trembling and moaning through his aftershock. Isabela hummed softly, unhooking the strap on and throwing it to the floor, wiping down her chest with a washing rag she kept near the bedside.

All the while Fenris’ quickened breathing slowly levelled out, his lidded eyes watching Isabela in a soft daze. Once she was done cleaning herself off she pulled a blanket over them and pressed a kiss to Fenris’ warm cheek.

“How was it?” She asked, nestling in close beside Fenris as he wrapped an arm around her. “It looked amazing, you’re amazing.”

Fenris didn’t answer right away, burying his face close against her, “It was good.”

Isabela snorted a laugh, “Oh, just good? I suspect you’ve had better then?”

Fenris’ face reappeared at her side, eyes narrowed, “I came didn’t I?”

Isabela smirked, “Yeah, all over my tits!”

Fenris snorted and buried his face again, “Yeah,” he said sleepily. “Let’s do that again.”

“Fuck your ass? Or come on my tits?” Isabela teased.

Fenris put a leg around her, she could feel his soft cock pressed against her, “Both.”