Tagged by @noire-pandora, thank you!
Tagging @fiadhaisteach, @lilbittymonster, @sinsbymanka, @serial-chillr and @about2dance. No pressure!
It's Fluff-uary, folks. I am neck deep in somft and silly. Have a peek.
As often happened, a bolt of inspiration hit Varric while he was bathing. He gave a rueful sigh, wrapped himself in a towel and rushed to his desk without even bothering to swipe his dripping hair out of the way as he jotted down the idea before he lost it. He was never more grateful to Imogen than in that moment, since having his own suite meant having his own bathing chamber in it. He didn't have to traipse halfway across the keep to get back to his room, the mad gleam of words in his eyes. He didn't need that kind of blow to his reputation.
He got lost in the idea after a while, eventually snagging his reading glasses so he could see the page better. His hair stopped dripping onto his bare shoulders and he didn't even notice he was getting chilled sitting there in nothing more than a damp towel. He never heard the door open.
He certainly didn't hear the low, needy hum that Hawke made. If he had, he might have been warned.
Her sharp teeth sank into the ball of his shoulder and he jumped, thoroughly startled. “What the...Hawke!”
She cackled, leaning on the back of his chair. At least she'd bitten the off arm, so the only splotch on the page in front of him was his own fault. He glared at her over the rim of his glasses.
“Oh, your face! That's a weighty look, serrah.”
She smiled at him, warm and loving and he almost melted. Almost. Then she spoke. “Haven't you ever just wanted to bite someone? You looked so delicious sitting there, I had to have a taste.”
Half his blood rushed southward. The rest seemed to have taken up residence in his cheeks. Either way, it left none for his brain and he gaped at her like an addled nug. He scrambled to find anything to say, anything at all.
“Andraste's flaming knickers,” was what came out. Hawke laughed again.
“No, I don't think I'd want to bite those.”
