Jul 1, 2023
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54 or 69? Maybe with Cadash x Varric?
54 it is then! "Yeah well dying generally puts a damper on things."
Cadash/Varric - This isn't smut BUT it is a little smutty. NSFW to be safe.
Bull hunkered down beside her, the stool creaking beneath his weight, and Maria began to plot exit strategies. She didn’t know exactly where this conversation was going, but she was willing to bet it wasn’t anywhere good.
“So. You and Varric.”
Aw, fuck. “Can we not have this conversation right now?”
“He’s right up your alley. Big hands. Broad and burly. Keeps you warm at night, I’m assuming. I bet he’s a talker, am I right?”
She buried her head in her hands and shook it briskly, partly out of annoyance. Partly because the very question conjured up those perfect, obscene promises he’d poured into her ears while he teased her to the brink of insanity. He’d been… dammit, he’d been exquisite. Perfect. More than she dared hope for. Nobody had touched her that way in such a damn long time, worshiped at her body like she was a forbidden idol, explored her like a beloved piece of art.
She could still picture the way he looked between her legs, his tongue tracing the tattoo on her thigh, and it made her want to scream in frustration, kick over the stool she was sitting on, and march off to shove his damn smug face right back down there.
But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. It had been a mistake born of leftover adrenaline from closing the vortex, the buzz of alcohol, and the fact that he sat there and made stupid promises about helping her, about working with her, about…
“Fuck.” Bull swore. “You’re not sleeping with him. You almost slept with him.”
“Corypheus interrupted.” She admitted between gritted teeth. “Ruined the moment.”
“I’ll keep a lookout then.” Bull jerked his chin pointedly behind her shoulders. “If the blighted bastard shows back up, I’ll ask him to hold his panties until you get yours off.”
She rolled her eyes skyward and Bull swore again, this time in Qunlat. “Why?” He asked briskly. “You two should have been going at it like nugs in the spring the second you stumbled back out of Haven. Good, desperate…”
“Yeah, well, dying generally puts a damper on things for us dwarves.” Maria muttered darkly.
“I’ll break the news to you. You’re not dead.” Bull rubbed his own stubble briskly and cast a sharp, chiding look at her. “And he’s ready to spring his cork and pop yours any moment, boss.”
The moment was over. It had been a mistake. A damn mistake, she didn’t need a lover. Not now.
Like he read her thoughts, Bull sighed wearily. “I give it two weeks.” He proclaimed.
“Until?” She asked, despite not really wanting to know the answer.
Bull grinned. “Corks are popped.”
Round belly