F!Hawke/Fenris, Leather and Silver, Slave & Master role play (1)
anonymous
May 10 2011, 01:30:35 UTC
A/N: So... this will be my first fill on the meme, lurker that I am. Hopefully this is somewhat near what the OP was looking for, and apologies in advance for the length. I can't seem to write Hawke and Fenris without a good bit of introspection. Also, sorry if the formatting is off
( ... )
Re: F!Hawke/Fenris, Leather and Silver, Slave & Master role play (3)
anonymous
May 10 2011, 01:41:35 UTC
“Yes, role play. Sort of like what Isabela writes,” she laughs at that, having to fall back on Isabela’s smut for reference, but she’s grasping at straws in how to explain this to him. “The maiden and the rakish pirate captain, the king and the chambermaid, the templar and the naughty mage, or the magister and the slave. That one’s fairly common, actually.”
“You mean… to pretend?” he hazards, and arches one dark brow at her. He is the wolf of his name in this moment, his head canted faintly down, eyes green and intense behind the faint veil of his pale hair. He looks predatory, hungry, and she wants to be devoured. She could tempt him into it if she wanted to, have him wrapped around her here on the floor before the fire, but she wants this conversation more. Wants him to understand.
“Yes, to pretend.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “For fun. To satisfy desires that can’t be filled safely any other way.”
“For fun. Who would wish to debase themselves in that way, to submit to such a whim. Surely you cannot…” She squeezes her eyes
( ... )
Re: F!Hawke/Fenris, Leather and Silver, Slave & Master role play (4)
anonymous
May 10 2011, 01:45:34 UTC
He does not know what to do with himself, does not know what to think, and for a while he falls back into old habits. He breaks things, stalks around in the dark, drinks, curses Danarius’ name and wishes for earthquakes to shake the Imperium to the ground. And in the end, because he is weak and spends every waking moment of this new life with her that he has been granted but does not deserve wanting to bury himself in her hair, in her arms, in her scent and beneath her clothes, he ends up before the fire with his hand curled around his cock and images of her flashing before his eyes
( ... )
Re: F!Hawke/Fenris, Leather and Silver, Slave & Master role play (5)
anonymous
May 10 2011, 01:52:26 UTC
A/N: Let the smutness begin!
**
Days pass, long and seemingly endless. She knows better than to go to him before he is ready; that will only lead to a fight, and if there is anything she doesn’t want to fight about, it is this. She’s an idiot; this thing between them is so fragile, so new and undefined. She almost burns the collar, almost incinerates it between her fingers in a fit of power and pique, but she puts it away again, slams it in a drawer and goes to the Hanged Man instead.
More days pass, more long nights, and she almost asks Varric - or Maker help her, Isabela - for advice, but it’s too personal a thing. If it ever were to show up in print somewhere she will undo them all, unravel them like sweaters. She is fiercely protective of Fenris and will never expose so vulnerable a topic to the scrutiny of the others, no matter how well-meaning.
So she waits and waits, and is rewarded for her patience finally by two lines carefully written on a piece of parchment and tucked into the frame of her mirror.
Re: F!Hawke/Fenris, Leather and Silver, Slave & Master role play (6)
anonymous
May 10 2011, 01:57:00 UTC
She struggles, because she does not want it to be easy. She struggles because he would and because she wants to and because the way his arms trap her against him so effortlessly, holding her still as though it is a simple thing, makes her burn with desire. She itches to shed these robes, to feel his hands on her bare skin, to rub herself against him like a cat, but she is at his leisure.
He waits until she wears herself out, panting against his hand and sagging slightly, until she is disheveled and her robes are rumpled and her pale skin glistens faintly with sweat. He laughs at her and buries his face against her hair, breathing her in and gratified when she flinches. His tongue flickers out to taste her, dragging over the curve of her cheek, and she whimpers. It is a small sound, low in her throat, the first she has made that is not a growl of frustration or grunt of effort. He can feel himself stirring, the tightness of his breeches faintly uncomfortable. She can feel it too, and she goes still, motionless but not quiet
( ... )
Re: F!Hawke/Fenris, Leather and Silver, Slave & Master role play (7)
anonymous
May 10 2011, 02:00:06 UTC
Her hands twist and ball to fists within the ropes, testing the strength of their hold, but he has tied them tightly and even her slender wrists and hands will not be able to slip free. He presses against her, pleased somehow deep down at the way she goes rigid against him, the way she tries to draw back and is left with nowhere else to go. His hands roam her hips, slide up her small waist, and lift to grope at her breasts ungently, enjoying the way her pale flesh rises beneath the neckline of her robes
( ... )
Re: F!Hawke/Fenris, Leather and Silver, Slave & Master role play (8)
anonymous
May 10 2011, 02:06:21 UTC
She curses at him and he loosens his belt, drawing it from around his waist. The pressure constricting uncomfortably about his eager cock lessens as his trousers loosen about his hips, and he folds the belt in his hand, careful to keep the metal of its tongue and buckle from touching her flesh. That will break the skin and the spell he has over her along with it. He brands her with it, lightly at first and then harder as her skin pinks in stripes, growing tender along the backs of her thighs and the swell of her buttocks and between her shoulders. He strikes her in an uneven rhythm, enjoying the way she jumps at the touch of the leather, the small moans she tries to stifle at first and then the harsher cries from low in her throat when she can contain them no longer.
“Please,” she begs again, and he stops, a hand to trail down the curve of her spine, feeling the heat he has raised there.
He curls his hand around the taut curve of her backside, squeezing her flesh in his palm. “Please what.”
Re: F!Hawke/Fenris, Leather and Silver, Slave & Master role play (9)
anonymous
May 10 2011, 02:21:40 UTC
Those words are almost his undoing as well and he holds her tight until the tension passes, drawing her close and taut with pleasure until he pictures her body as a bowstring, ready to snap. “You may,” he murmurs against her ear and immediately she goes rigid in his arms, her back arching and her head thrown back against his shoulder. She sounds like an animal when she convulses and goes limp afterward, sagging between his body and the bedpost when he draws his hands from her. He holds her up and undoes the knots, letting her trickle out of his grasp slowly to come to her knees on the floor before the bed
( ... )
Re: F!Hawke/Fenris, Leather and Silver, Slave & Master role play (10)
anonymous
May 10 2011, 02:36:10 UTC
Marian’s mouth. If he were a man of poetic words he would write many pathetic odes to it, he was sure. Just as well that he was not for there was no language to describe its wet heat, the pressure and suction of her lips and the slide of her tongue. He had thought this a demeaning act in the not so distant past, but she had educated him otherwise. She claimed to enjoy doing this for him and did so as often as he would allow - which was not often lest he become unnaturally fixated on the act and neglect her in other ways - but she had never done so without the benefit of her hands. The awkwardness of it was endearing, helping a little to push back the looming threshold of his own need. He threaded his hands through her hair, guiding her motions gently and then harder until he was thrusting into her mouth. He hit the back of her throat and she gagged, but he held her there until she swallowed convulsively around him and righted herself.
Her blue eyes flickered up to his face, in vengeance he was sure, half-lidded and hazy. Come
( ... )
Re: F!Hawke/Fenris, Leather and Silver, Slave & Master role play (12)
anonymous
May 10 2011, 02:47:20 UTC
“Good,” he purrs against her hair. “There is no one else for you but me. No other lovers, no pleasant distractions. You belong to me, and you will remember that. You will remember me all across your body, all through this pretty white skin. You will remember that I have been inside you in every way, that it is my name you scream.” His hand fists in her hair, drags her head back; she arches and he slides all the way inside her like a key fit to a lock. She quivers, whimpers, and he holds her there, stretching her deliciously, filling her overfull. “No one can make you feel like I do, my little mage whore. Your magic, your body, your heart, your soul, they are mine to control. You will have no other master save for me.”
She shatters on the sound of his voice alone, and she is so tight around him that he cannot hope to move. When she goes lax again it is a race to the end; one hand slides between her thighs, thrumming against the swollen pearl there and the other roughly paws her breasts, gripping, grinding, using her whole
( ... )
Re: F!Hawke/Fenris, Leather and Silver, Slave & Master role play (13)
anonymous
May 10 2011, 02:51:10 UTC
“And then the Champion of Kirkwall came so hard she died,” she says from nowhere, eventually, and he laughs and groans and buries his face against her
( ... )
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“You mean… to pretend?” he hazards, and arches one dark brow at her. He is the wolf of his name in this moment, his head canted faintly down, eyes green and intense behind the faint veil of his pale hair. He looks predatory, hungry, and she wants to be devoured. She could tempt him into it if she wanted to, have him wrapped around her here on the floor before the fire, but she wants this conversation more. Wants him to understand.
“Yes, to pretend.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “For fun. To satisfy desires that can’t be filled safely any other way.”
“For fun. Who would wish to debase themselves in that way, to submit to such a whim. Surely you cannot…” She squeezes her eyes ( ... )
Reply
Reply
**
Days pass, long and seemingly endless. She knows better than to go to him before he is ready; that will only lead to a fight, and if there is anything she doesn’t want to fight about, it is this. She’s an idiot; this thing between them is so fragile, so new and undefined. She almost burns the collar, almost incinerates it between her fingers in a fit of power and pique, but she puts it away again, slams it in a drawer and goes to the Hanged Man instead.
More days pass, more long nights, and she almost asks Varric - or Maker help her, Isabela - for advice, but it’s too personal a thing. If it ever were to show up in print somewhere she will undo them all, unravel them like sweaters. She is fiercely protective of Fenris and will never expose so vulnerable a topic to the scrutiny of the others, no matter how well-meaning.
So she waits and waits, and is rewarded for her patience finally by two lines carefully written on a piece of parchment and tucked into the frame of her mirror.
Come to me ( ... )
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He waits until she wears herself out, panting against his hand and sagging slightly, until she is disheveled and her robes are rumpled and her pale skin glistens faintly with sweat. He laughs at her and buries his face against her hair, breathing her in and gratified when she flinches. His tongue flickers out to taste her, dragging over the curve of her cheek, and she whimpers. It is a small sound, low in her throat, the first she has made that is not a growl of frustration or grunt of effort. He can feel himself stirring, the tightness of his breeches faintly uncomfortable. She can feel it too, and she goes still, motionless but not quiet ( ... )
Reply
Reply
“Please,” she begs again, and he stops, a hand to trail down the curve of her spine, feeling the heat he has raised there.
He curls his hand around the taut curve of her backside, squeezing her flesh in his palm. “Please what.”
She is silent again except for her ( ... )
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Reply
I'LL BE IN MY BUNK.
err...
Yeah.
I'll be in my bunk.
I love thoughtful, introspective fills. SO GOOD!
Reply
Her blue eyes flickered up to his face, in vengeance he was sure, half-lidded and hazy. Come ( ... )
Reply
Reply
She shatters on the sound of his voice alone, and she is so tight around him that he cannot hope to move. When she goes lax again it is a race to the end; one hand slides between her thighs, thrumming against the swollen pearl there and the other roughly paws her breasts, gripping, grinding, using her whole ( ... )
Reply
Reply
I...
I'm going to be in my bunk.
Reply
Great wrap up for a great fill!
Bravo!
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