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Every mpreg power couple has a straight best friend cheering them on.
Here we see Cassandra supporting Adaar and The Iron Bull, she was the one who suggested they get married after all.
And River Ward offers his support to V and Ben, it never hurts to have a friend that would be happy to baby sit.
(Ben Stone, AKA Basketball Thug from the Corpo prologue is the best man for me since Kerry is a bottom and River is straight. I like to think it started as hate fucking but grew into a full on enemies-to-lovers type of deal)
Romance options for the Inquisitor in DATV CC (descriptions)
for THE IRON BULL, DORIAN PAVUS, CULLEN RUTHERFORD (preview), SOLAS, NONE. with transcriptions!
THE IRON BULL
Soldier, spy, survivor—the Iron Bull was many things even before a romance inside the Inquisition changed his life forever.
The hulking Qunari called the Iron Bull, a shameless flirt, was pleased when the Inquisitor returned his overtures. But what began as a way for them to unwind grew into something deeper and more profound. When The Iron Bull's superiors demanded he turn on the Inquisitor, he refused—and never regretted it.
DORIAN
When the northern mage came to the Inquisition looking for help, he discovered a love enduring and rare.
Born and raised in the Tevinter Imperium, Dorian hadn't though he'd find much to impress him when he travelled south. But as he and the Inquisitor became drawn to each other, their attraction bloomed into a deep and caring relationship that endured even after Dorian reluctantly returned home.
SOLAS
He possessed knowledge beyond any mortal, yet even the Dread Wolf could not foresee what it would mean to fall in love.
Though Solas hid his past from the Inquisitor, the more time they spent together, the more precious that time became. Their connection was passionate and undeniable. Solas mourned that his duty to the past forced him to leave her in the end, but the Inquisitor knew what they had might not be so quick to fade.
CULLEN
A man haunted by duty's demands, Cullen Rutherford never expected to find love during his time in the Inquisition.
NONE
The Inquisitor was always busy handing her/his/their growing forces, potential allies, and dealing with ever more dangerous threats.
The Inquisitor led by example, plunging into the wilds to recruit followers, end rivalries and keep the common folk safe from monsters. She/he/they even made forays into the grand politics that decided the fate of an empire. She/He/They gained lifelong friends, enemies, and rivals along the way.
Note: I've made direct transcriptions, typos included.
sources: bull, dorian, none (not the original sources though because i can't find them. i'll edit this post if i do) ; cullen ; solas
Edit:
Added Solas!
Because there seems to be some confusion: No, this is not all of the romances. All of the romances available in Inquisition are available for the Inquisitor in this game as well. We just haven't seen the text for them (the reason some of the romances are blocked is because their romances were blocked in Inquisition. In this case, the inquisitor was probably a female non-elf, since they can't romance Solas (only elf female), Dorian (only male) or Cassandra (only male.))
As you can see in the source and the title of this post, the Cullen romance bit is just a preview, that's not the whole text. I clarified it in the beginning of the post but I guess some people didn't understand.
Might post on ao3 later. Prompt fill that got away from me, but what else is new? 😅
Prompt from @butter-and-too-much-bread for Bull putting on a chastity belt to punish m!Adaar. Nothing too explicit, at least in my opinion. Sorry this took so long, but I hope you enjoy! Leave it to me to go for extra tenderness on this one. 😄
~~~
If nothing else, Adaar was what many would call a "people pleaser."
While his innate sense of selflessness was often an admirable trait, the Iron Bull knew better than most that it could be just as much of a burden as well. On days when it was particularly bad, Adaar always had trouble saying “no” to people, even when it was to the detriment of his own health.
Which is why it was so hard for Bull to not intervene, but he knew his place.
Out there, for others to see, Adaar was the boss. He was their Inquisitor. He called the shots, and Bull wouldn’t dare undermine his authority.
In private, however…
Well, that was a completely different story.
Still, what was supposed to be a relaxing day to themselves quickly became anything but. Every time Adaar finished one task, someone else would pull him aside with another menial request. “One last thing” became the mantra for the day any time Adaar happened across Bull’s path.
Usually, the Iron Bull knew better than to let that get to him, but he was finding it more difficult to suppress his annoyance as the day wore on.
When even the tavern failed to restore his jovial mood, Krem all but dragged him outside to spar. Their practice session went on until sunset before the Inquisitor finally found them.
The instant Krem let his guard down to wave at him, Bull rammed into his side.
Krem hit the ground with a grunt, but refused to let that deter him.
He flashed a grin in Adaar’s direction.
“Here to take the boss off my hands, yeah?” he asked.
Adaar shuffled from foot to foot, taking in the sight of Bull.
“If he will let me,” he murmured, his eyes cast downwards as he tugged idly at his shirt.
Krem tossed Bull a pointed glance, then jerked his chin in the Inquisitor’s direction.
With a grumble, Bull said, “Yeah, I’ll let ya, kadan.”
How quickly Adaar perked up at the reassurance. His head shot up, eyes wide and mouth agape.
Handing the training equipment off to Krem, Bull’s second-in-command lugged it away without so much as a backwards glance, undoubtedly rushing to get back to the tavern with the other Chargers.
The corners of Adaar’s lips started to quirk up into the beginning of a smile, but Bull’s warning glare made his expression fall again.
Scanning the area, Bull made sure that the coast was clear, no one around to overhear them.
“This doesn’t mean you’re out of trouble,” he bit out.
“So, I am in trouble then?” Adaar sighed. His bottom lip poked out into a semblance of a pout.
With his arms crossed over his chest, Bull leveled him with a scathing look. He raised a brow at him, unimpressed.
“Oh, most definitely.”
“I’m sor—”
“Don’t,” Bull retorted.
Adaar snapped his mouth shut in the blink of an eye.
Bull stood there for a moment, letting Adaar squirm in all of his uncertainty.
He gave Adaar a thorough once-over before closing the distance between them.
He crashed his lips against Adaar’s into a bruising kiss.
Adaar melted against him without hesitation, but Bull caught his wrists when the Inquisitor tried to wrap his arms around his shoulders.
Bull pinned them to his sides, kept them in place as he pulled away.
A sweet whimper was coaxed free from Adaar’s swollen lips. When Bull parted from their kiss, Adaar tried to chase after Bull’s lips, but the latter remained firm in his resolve, simply resting his forehead against Adaar’s.
“Please,” Adaar breathed, desperate for more. Excitement spread through him like a wildfire. An all-too-familiar glaze settled over his eyes, his pupils blown wide enough that they threatened to consume his irises whole. “Please, Bull. Let me make it up to you.”
It was all too tempting, the urge to get swept up in the heat of the moment. To let that haze cloud his mind, where the lines of authority blurred.
But Bull had to be stronger than that. In situations such as those, Adaar relied on him to be.
He took Adaar’s chin in hand with a gentle squeeze. Not hard enough to leave marks, but tight enough to get his attention.
Only when Adaar’s eyes focused on him did he ask, “What’s our watchword, kadan?”
It was a test that Adaar knew all too well. If he couldn’t even recall their word when Bull got a bit handsy, then he was hardly in a headspace to proceed further.
Using the word needed to be instinctive, something done without thought or concern the second Adaar felt like he was in over his head.
By that point in their relationship, he didn’t even need to think twice about it.
“Katoh,” he said, eager to please.
That time, Bull couldn’t help but to smile in approval. Adaar’s excitement proved too contagious, even for him.
It sent Adaar’s heart racing. Oh, how it sang with joy.
Clearing his throat, the Iron Bull smoothed out his face into a neutral expression, ignoring how his emotions so easily betrayed him.
“That’s right,” he murmured. “Now, what you’re going to do is go straight to your quarters, strip down, and wait for me there. Got it?”
Adaar nodded.
He turned on his heel, only to jolt when Bull delivered a playful smack to his ass. Glancing over his shoulder, Adaar’s responding grin sent Bull’s heart aflutter.
Bull watched him walk away, fixated on the movement of his hips and thighs with every step.
By the time he disappeared out of sight, Bull had to shake himself free of his thoughts.
While he was certain that Adaar made haste to follow his instructions, the Iron Bull took his time in preparing himself. He strolled at a leisurely pace back to the Chargers’ quarters, taking in the sights of the evening sky. If anyone stopped him on his way, he made sure to chat with them. He hummed a lighthearted tune, savoring the light chill to the air.
After all, the longer Adaar waited, the more anticipation would build, and the more impatient he would become.
After the day Bull had, he figured that it would do Adaar some good to see what it was like.
Once he arrived at his bunk, the Iron Bull dug through the chest that contained his personal belongings. He hummed to himself as he appraised the items, his expression brightening when he came up with the perfect idea for the evening.
The journey to the Inquisitor’s quarters took just as long, if not longer, than the walk to his own.
Nevertheless, when Bull arrived, he let himself in with the key he had, locking the door behind him.
The last thing they needed were any interruptions.
Climbing the stairs, he ignored the various aches and pains that ailed him, focused instead on getting to his Inquisitor.
As soon as he entered the room, he stopped to lean against the doorframe, drinking in the sight of Adaar.
And what a fine sight he was.
There, before the bed, he knelt with his thighs parted and his skin bared. His back was slightly arched to display his chest more openly, his wrists resting one over the other behind his back. He held his head high, yet his eyes remained fixated on the floor, ready for whatever Bull had in store for him.
Obviously, Adaar was well-aware of his presence by then, but Bull made sure to drag it out.
Each step towards him was heavy and loud, deliberate in its purpose.
When Bull finally stood in front of him, Adaar sank his teeth into his bottom lip to bite back the noises that threatened to escape, resisting the urge to throw any remaining shame he had out the window.
Bull watched him closely.
Then, he took Adaar’s chin in hand. His thumb freed his lip from its hold, swiping along its enticing curve.
Breathless, Adaar parted his lips. His tongue darted out to press tentatively against the pad of Bull’s thumb, but Bull withdrew his touch before Adaar could get any bright ideas, his brow raised in amusement.
Taking a step back, Bull cocked his head to the side before tossing the rope he had gathered onto the bed.
He took one of Adaar’s horns in hand and yanked his head back.
There was a slight wince of discomfort, but Adaar didn’t complain in the slightest. If anything, he followed through with the motion easily enough.
He didn’t speak without permission, nor did he lift his eyes to meet Bull’s gaze.
It made what Bull had to do all the more difficult.
For someone so obedient, Adaar really did manage to get himself into trouble more often than expected.
Bull sighed, releasing his grip on Adaar’s horn.
“Stand,” he told him, his voice low and even.
Adaar sprang to his feet without a second thought, almost knocking Bull back on his ass in the process. The Iron Bull recovered quickly, though, taking note of Adaar’s sheepish grin.
With a fond shake of his head, Bull stepped forward until they were chest-to-chest. His hands settled upon Adaar’s hips.
“You may look at me,” he murmured. He pressed a careful kiss to Adaar’s temple, his words soft against his skin. “You may touch me, if you wish.”
Adaar let out a loud whine, as if a great pressure had been relieved.
Tossing his arms around Bull’s shoulders, he didn’t waste any time before he pressed himself flush against Bull’s body. Reverent kisses trailed along Bull’s jaw, starved for his attention.
The second Bull felt Adaar’s lips on his, he knew he was a goner.
Adaar kissed with the same passion and intensity that he approached all else in life. Getting lost in the moment was as easy as breathing when it came to him. Everything about him weakened Bull’s resolve, made him want the Inquisitor unlike any other. Made Bull crave him until his entire world was consumed by his presence.
Of course, as soon as Bull took control, Adaar melted against him. His hands roamed over Bull’s body, always wanting more yet never getting enough.
Bull parted Adaar’s lips with his own, deepened the kiss with an insatiable groan.
Their tongues explored each other’s mouths until they had little choice but to part for air.
Even then, while Bull struggled to catch his breath, Adaar covered his neck in a flurry of open-mouthed kisses. He panted against Bull’s skin, face flushed when Bull had to pry him off to get some distance.
It was a stark reminder that, though Bull still held the reins in some sense, the influence that Adaar wielded over him was nothing to turn his nose up at either.
With a snort, Bull chuckled.
“You’re a dangerous one,” he stated, more so as a word of caution to himself. Bull reached out and trailed the tips of his fingers down along the outline of Adaar’s cheek while he spoke. “One kiss, and my willpower crumbles.”
Adaar leaned eagerly into his touch, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks while his eyes slid closed.
“But that doesn’t mean you’re getting out of trouble that easily.”
The instant Bull pulled away, Adaar’s eyes flew open, blinking owlishly at the loss.
“I—”
“Do you even know why you’re in trouble, kadan?” Bull asked, to which Adaar flinched.
Adaar curled in on himself, as if to make himself appear smaller. Which would have been quite the sight, had it not been for the sudden tension that blanketed the room.
Swallowing thickly, Adaar struggled for words, but he eventually managed to force something out.
“Be—Because we were supposed to be spending the day together,” he mumbled, albeit uncertainly. Bull stared at him, unimpressed, which only served to put him even more on edge. “And I kept you waiting…?”
It came out as more of a question than an answer.
Adaar started to wring his hands together, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
After a minute or two of unbearable silence, Bull’s expression gentled.
When he offered his hands, Adaar swiftly reached out to slide his own into Bull’s warm grasp.
Bull led him away from the bed.
“Come,” he whispered, and Adaar followed.
His blind devotion quickly turned into confusion, however, when Bull tugged him along to stand in front of the full length mirror that was nestled in the corner of his room.
Confusion was instantly followed by realization.
Bull twirled Adaar around so that Adaar was standing in front of him. Both of them faced the mirror with Adaar’s back pressed against Bull’s chest.
Adaar tried to turn his face away, but Bull caught his chin and forced his face back in the direction of the mirror.
Adaar averted his eyes, feeling the sting of unshed tears growing worse by the second.
“Kadan, look.”
And because it was Bull telling him to do so, Adaar found himself unable to resist.
Slowly, he met his eyes in the mirror, taking in the sight of himself from head to toe.
Never had he felt so vulnerable, so exposed, before.
He could taste salt upon his tongue as the first few tears trailed down his cheeks.
“Now, tell me what you see,” Bull ordered, but Adaar shook his head in defiance, unable to find the words to encompass what he felt in that exact moment. “No? Alright, then I’ll tell you what I see.”
Bull reached out to trace along the dark rings underneath Adaar’s eyes.
“I see a man who hasn’t slept well in days. I see a man who hasn’t allowed himself a proper break in weeks.”
With a tender kiss to the nape of Adaar’s neck, Bull’s hands roamed down the front of his chest.
“I see a man whose horns have lost their luster, whose eyes no longer sparkle with excitement at the start of each day.”
He caressed the curves of Adaar’s stomach, what once used to be fuller and softer than at present.
“I see a man so caught up in his role as Inquisitor that he forgets to eat as he’s supposed to. Have you even noticed how your clothes have been hanging off of you?”
Overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of emotions, Adaar could barely draw breath, let alone form an answer.
Instead, he nodded, because the sad truth of it all was that he had noticed.
He had noticed, and he had ignored it.
Adaar always told himself that he would do better the next day.
There was always some excuse. Always something to be done.
All at once, the weight of the world came crashing down on him.
Turning in place, he threw himself into Bull’s arms without warning. He clung to him, buried his face into his throat.
“I—I’m sorry,” he sobbed, the apology noticeably more genuine than the one from earlier.
Bull held him as he cried, tightening his arms around him.
“Put yourself in my shoes,” Bull whispered. Carefully, he brushed Adaar’s hair back from his face. “Us not getting to spend time together as we planned felt bad, don’t get me wrong, but that is not why you’re in trouble.”
The Iron Bull took a deep, bracing breath.
“I can tolerate being stood up for a date, don’t worry about that,” he said, “but what I absolutely cannot tolerate is you neglecting yourself, kadan.”
When all he received was a sniffle in response, Bull pressed the subject.
“Tell me,” he insisted, “how would you feel if you found out that I wasn’t eating or sleeping or resting like I was supposed to?”
Adaar didn’t miss a beat.
“I’d be upset,” he answered, his voice muffled into the crook of Bull’s neck.
“Then, do you understand why I’m upset?”
“Yes.”
“And do you understand why I’m going to punish you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” But Bull would like to think that he knew Adaar well enough by now.
If he kept pushing too hard and too fast without some offer of reassurance, without some show that they were well and truly okay, then Adaar would use his watchword and withdraw to one of those dark corners of his mind.
Bull would make sure that didn’t happen.
Tangling his hand into his hair, Bull carefully peeled Adaar away from his neck. He took a second to wipe away the snot and tears, undeterred by the mess.
After all, through the puffy eyes and the splotchy face, he was still just Adaar, as breathtaking as always.
Bull cupped Adaar’s cheeks with a tender smile.
He leaned his forehead against his.
“I adore you,” Bull said, “if that wasn’t obvious enough.”
Reaching between them, he took Adaar’s necklace in hand, brushing his thumb along his fragment of the dragon’s tooth.
Adaar watched him. A shiver trailed down his spine.
“I know,” he breathed, his responding smile bashful, sweeter than it had any right to be.
“Asala. Kadan.” Bull tugged him forward, rewarded him with a brief kiss. “What would be left of me, if not for you?”
“You won’t ever have to find out." His expression turned coy. Violet eyes tried to lure him in with promises of more. "Now, let me take care of you."
Adaar thought himself sly, but he should've known that it took more than a pretty face to get one over on ole Bull.
The Iron Bull was more than capable of playing along with his little game, though. Adaar obviously thought that he could work his way around his punishment by earning Bull’s forgiveness in one way or another, but little did he know that he was already playing right into Bull’s hands.
Besides, Adaar’s trick wouldn't be much of a punishment, not when he so clearly enjoyed the idea.
Still, Bull would let him have his fun, at least for now.
"Heh." Bull snorted. "That's my line." When Adaar squirmed, looking to Bull for permission, the Iron Bull nodded at him. "Go ahead, kadan. Undress me. You earned that much."
Adaar didn't even let him finish before he was fumbling with the brace on his shoulder. One by one, the clasps came undone until it fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
Bull's belt soon followed, Adaar covering his scarred skin with appreciative kisses as Adaar sank to his knees before him.
Staring up at Bull, Adaar smirked when Bull shifted, attempting to alleviate the growing pressure.
"I want you," Adaar sighed, trailing kisses down his stomach.
When the muscles clenched beneath his lips, Adaar traced the outline of them with his tongue.
"Need you," he mumbled.
After helping Bull out of his shoes, Adaar took the waistband of his pants in hand. Slowly, he eased fabric down over Bull’s hips, teasing the newly-exposed skin with teeth and tongue alike.
At least, that was the plan, but Adaar instantly stopped short when he encountered leather.
Brow furrowed, he pulled away, only to scowl at the leather harness that blocked his path.
Adaar knew from the instant Bull bought the damn thing in one of Orlais' more "risqué" shops that it was going to be trouble.
Leave it to him to decide to test it out, today of all days.
"Bull…" Trailing off, Adaar turned his glare onto his lover.
The Iron Bull roared with laughter.
"Bull!" Adaar scolded, more insistent this time.
Before Adaar could object, the Iron Bull bent down at the waist and slung Adaar up over his shoulder. Allowing his pants to fall loosely to the floor, he kicked each leg free, sporting the rather snug harness with pride.
"What's wrong, kadan?" Bull taunted. He smacked his ass for good measure, his hand lingering with a tight squeeze. "Is my sweet boy talking back now?"
"You could have given me a heads-up!"
"Yeah, I could have, but I didn't."
Adaar couldn't find an exact angle to make it perfect, but he struck out nonetheless. His teeth clamped down onto Bull’s side, but the sharp bite didn't even so much as get a flinch in return.
Bull snickered at his antics, strolling over to the bed at a leisurely pace.
"Oh…" He hummed in delight. "Getting feisty, are we? You know, if I knew you'd get this riled up, I would have done this much sooner. You so rarely act out."
With a huff, Adaar tried to wiggle free.
"Put me dow—"
He landed on the bed with a grunt, tossed down onto the mattress before he could even finish speaking.
Bull towered over him at the end of the bed, amused.
Adaar gave a long, languid stretch atop the sheets. White, wavy hair fanned out around his head, cascading down over the pillows.
“Hmph, such a tease,” Adaar muttered, bright purple eyes darkening with desire.
“That, I am,” Bull said, not even bothering to contradict him. “Now, arms up.”
Adaar obeyed his command without second thought.
When the Iron Bull started to bind his wrists to the bedposts, Adaar watched him while he worked, tying the rope with sure, steady hands.
He’d never get tired of the sight.
Once Bull was done, Adaar tested his handiwork with a couple of pointed tugs.
The rope tightened around his wrists in warning, but they showed no sign of coming loose, not without intervention at least.
Adaar eyed Bull, adjusting until he was comfortable.
“I just want to make you feel good,” Adaar admitted in a whisper, less confident than intended.
His words were so small and uncertain that Bull couldn’t help but to go easy on him.
Perhaps his affection for Adaar was his weakness after all, but it was one he would gladly accept.
As he placed a knee on the bed, Bull’s expression gentled.
"Then let me take care of you," Bull told him. "That makes me feel good."
Leaning in, Bull smirked up at Adaar when his legs instantly parted to make room for him. Adaar smiled sheepishly, yet made no move to hide just how eager he was.
A slow, swirling heat gathered in Bull's chest until the pressure that built up was near suffocating in its intensity. With few places left to go, it spread.
While Bull remained in complete control of himself, desire permeated his mind. Everything else melted away until the only thing that remained was the man spread out before him. Bull stared at him through a haze, yet he felt as if he had never known such perfect clarity, committing every last detail of Adaar to his memory.
The portion of that heat that spread to his gut settled there like a heavy weight. His legs grew weak. His thighs became sensitive, that leather turning into more of a burden by the second.
When his cock eventually did swell, it quickly met resistance. Bull refrained from wincing at how fast the harness constricted around him, but Adaar was nothing, if not perceptive.
A wrinkle settled over his brow.
"Bull, please," he begged. "Let me—"
"No," Bull answered, and that was that, his tone leaving no room for argument. When Adaar grumbled under his breath, Bull gave a sharp pinch to one of his thighs, causing Adaar to jolt in shock. "Listen, as hard as it might be for you, let's have one night that's only about you, alright?"
Hesitant, Adaar thought it over, then nodded, swallowing thickly.
"Yes, sir."
His approach was timid and compliant, but the way he searched for even the slightest hint of approval from Bull was unmistakable. The weight of his gaze felt all too familiar.
Nevertheless, the Iron Bull figured that he could spare Adaar a small treat.
Pressing his lips to the spot right below his navel, warm praise caressed Adaar’s skin.
“Good boy,” Bull murmured.
One would swear that he hit Adaar with one of those fancy lightning spells that Adaar loved to fling around so much.
A sharp gasp tore through the air.
Adaar took some of the rope in hand and tightened his grip, tugging thoughtlessly until it pulled taut. It strained ever so slightly when faced with his strength, but ultimately refused to give in.
The coarse burn of rope against his wrists only enticed him further, the sting more of an encouragement than a deterrent.
His back arched, seeking out more attention from Bull’s lips.
“M–More,” he pleaded.
Bull took a moment to marvel at how responsive he was, watching Adaar’s teeth sink into his bottom lip.
Adaar writhed in an attempt to roll his hips against him, his face and chest flushed with need.
Grabbing Adaar by the hips, Bull forced them back against the bed, his hold on Adaar unbreakable. He earned a breathless whine in response, to which Bull simply tsked.
“You want more?” Bull questioned. “You’ll have to be more specific than that. More of what?”
As if Adaar could string together a single thought, let alone an entire sentence.
Frustrated, he grunted, “More of you.”
“Heh, now we’re getting somewhere,” Bull said, rewarding him with a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses. He kept Adaar’s hips pinned to the bed while he forged a path down his chest. “Come on, kadan. You can get more detailed than that.”
“I—”
When Bull finally teased his tongue along the curves of his hips, Adaar cried out, trembling beneath him.
His hands clenched into fists, the lines of his muscles stretched tight.
Again, Adaar yanked mindlessly at the rope. And again, it held.
Bull chuckled darkly, so close to where Adaar wanted him yet denying him even a sliver of relief.
When he skirted around Adaar’s cock, sucking and nipping at his thighs as he pleased, Bull smirked at Adaar’s petulant growl.
“Come on,” Bull insisted. Adaar jolted when he felt the pad of one of Bull’s fingers trail down along the seam of his ass, stopping only to tease over his puckered entrance. “Tell me what you want, kadan.”
Considering the day Adaar had so far, telling someone what he wanted was definitely a change of pace, albeit a welcome one.
Few had thought to ask, and Adaar had shied away from the thought of burdening others with his problems.
So, he held his tongue. He let his exhaustion fester.
Now, when Bull made it so clear that his opinions did matter, all of that pent-up frustration hit him at once.
There were so many emotions to sort through, but there was one thing Adaar was certain about.
Turning his head to the side, he averted his eyes as he mumbled, “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I guess that I just want you to take care of me…?”
He trailed off, suddenly uncertain.
“Not to say you don’t take care of me enough already, but I—”
Before he could get himself worked up, Bull interrupted.
“Kadan.”
“Yeah?”
Bull spared him a soft smile.
“I think I can handle that.”
Sighing in relief, Adaar nodded.
“Anything else?” Bull asked.
“Well…” He gave a pointed tug at the ropes. “I want to touch you, but only if that’s okay!”
Before he could finish, the Iron Bull had reached up; and with a few deliberate tugs, the ropes came undone.
Massaging Adaar’s wrists, Bull watched him closely while he coaxed the blood to flow freely once more.
“Good?”
Adaar nodded. “Good.”
“Great,” Bull said, his voice rumbling through his chest, “because I’m not letting you go until you’ve been properly spoiled.”
When he dove in for a kiss, Adaar released a brief squeal, silenced only by Bull’s lips on his.
He wrapped his legs and arms around him, refusing to let go.
From there, each brush of his fingers brought him closer to his peak. Each curl of his tongue stoked the flames that burned bright inside him.
Adaar’s magic grew thick in the air, spurred on by the tension between them.
Little sparks of electricity played over their skin. It teased along their nerves, but the Iron Bull simply took it in stride, admiring the power he wielded, all while surrendering it in the heat of the moment.
In time, he spread Adaar open on thick fingers, slick with that fancy oil that he favored so much.
When Bull’s lips eventually wrapped around him, Adaar cradled the back of his head, guiding him up and down the length of his cock, each thrust of his hips sending him deeper down Bull’s throat.
Everything about the act soon became sloppy and desperate and rushed, but Adaar couldn’t find it in himself to care in the slightest. He squirmed. He panted, ultimately unashamed when his voice grew louder with need.
He scratched at Bull’s back with his free hand, but Bull allowed for no apologies on his part, all but ordering Adaar to use him as he pleased.
And when Adaar finally did find his release, the Iron Bull held his hips in place, swallowing around him until he collapsed against the bed.
Only after Adaar rode out the remnants of his orgasm did Bull release him from his hold, briefly departing from his bed.
Sated for the moment, Adaar basked in the tingling rush of endorphins until Bull returned with a rag in hand.
In between sweet kisses, Bull gently cleaned the mess that they made of themselves. His harness soon found its way onto the floor, abandoned as the need to be together soon overpowered the desire for punishment.
They snuggled up to one another underneath the sheets, legs tangled together.
For a while, they simply laid there.
They only had eyes for each other.
Loving caresses said all that they needed to know, even as they stayed up, talking about anything and everything late into the night.
Summary: Dorian Pavus has run away from home, from a life of misery, from some unspeakable incident with his father, from Tevinter, from himself. He has run out of money, too, and now he is stuck way out here away from things. But maybe it's not so bad. Ehsaan is sweet, The Iron Bull is kind in his own way, and they both say that he can stay as long as he likes.
From the top
Chapter Snippet:
Dorian had been dreaming of little else since he’d arrived, and nothing at all else since it had become a real possibility. Yet still, he had only been with a handful of men, and only once in a situation with more than one of them at a time, and that had been… well he didn’t even remember all of it. Sort of sloppy. Disorganized. Boring, in parts. This, he was sure, wouldn’t be. But he wasn’t sure of the rest.
"I'm just... it's only I've never... I'm simply—" he stammered on.
"It's ok to be nervous. We can take things slow. Nothing has to happen today, nothing unless you want it to,” said The Iron Bull, now very calm and shockingly gentle.
“I do,” Dorian corrected again quickly. “I do want it to. I’m just, kaffas, I’m sorry, Bull. I —”
Bull raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you worried about?” he asked, “tell me.”
Dorian sighed.
He’d talked to Bull more than Ehsaan about home , about what had happened there, and why he’d left. Sweet as Ehsaan was, he felt as though The Bull somehow understood more than he did about it. He’d shared a bit of his own in turn, explaining plainly how he had been through his own share of abuses in a similar part of the world. For all their warring ideologies, Qunandar and Qarinus weren’t separated by much space at all.
“I don’t know,” he said, “what if — what if I have a bloody breakdown or —”
“You’re not going to have a breakdown,” Bull soothed with a small smile, placing that tough, gentle hand under his jaw again and pulling his gaze up into his own, “you’re going to have an orgasm. Several, if I get my way about it.”
Dorian swallowed. The Iron Bull’s smirk grew fuller.
“And the thing is, I always get my way.” He did that thing he did that wasn’t a wink.
Dorian snorted out a surprised laugh, but before he could protest, The Iron Bull kissed him once more. He leaned down, and pulled Dorian up. He wrapped him in tight arms and pressed his body into his full, broad chest. He dug his lips through the heat and hesitation, plundered his mouth and fought with his tongue until he’d worked Dorian into a frenzy to match, lowered his hands down, and nearly lifted him off the ground with the squeeze he gave Dorian's ass. Then he let him go, grinned at him.
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Happy Friday! I’d love to see f!Adaar/Bull with the prompt [ STRADDLE ] : while sparring, sender gains the upper hand and pins the receiver in place, straddling their waist in the process!
"Hey, boss," Bull said, leaning against the rail of the sparring ring. "Got one more in ya?"
Hissera grinned. "Always, for you, Bull." She swung her quarterstaff in an arc, stepping back to give him space to hop the fence. He did so, and she once again marvelled at his grace. Bull was large, even for a Qunari -Tal Vashoth, now- but he moved with the same easy grace as Solas; she was envious of it, but their sparring lessons had yet to give her anything but bruises.
"Always so cocky, aint'cha, 'Hope'?" he teased. "Hand-to-hand, or do I get my own stick?"
Hissera tossed the quarterstaff aside. "Hand-to-hand works for me. Count us in?" she added to her previous sparring partner.
"3, 2, 1, fight!"
The two of them circled each other warily for a few moments as more and more of Skyhold surrounded the ring. Their sparring matches had become very popular entertainment over the last few weeks, with Vrric eagerly running bets on the outcomes (Hissera won just often enough to keep things interesting, even if she secretly thought Bull was throwing matches at Varric's request).
Suddenly, Bull was behind her, leg catching hers and throwing off her balance. Hissera twisted, catching herself on his shoulder before throwing herself over and around him. She panted for a moment before slamming her shoulder into his bad knee and diving through his legs. Bull roared as he hit the ground hard, and Hissera caught herself, pushing off the ground and hitting his chest bodily.
Scrambling for purchase, Hissera wrapped her legs around his waist and pinned his wrists to the ground above his head. Her chest heaved as she grinned viciously down at him. "Yield, Hissrad?" she spat.
