Original prompt: 'Iron Bull wants to make sure that his friends in the inquisition are well taken care of, so he works his way through them, one by one, giving them what they need.
Which characters he involves himself with and what kinks they have are up to the A!A. Any kinks other than non-con and watersports/scat are fine with me. I have a slight preference for m!Cadash or m!Adaar for the Inquisitor, but if you prefer one of the others that's cool.
I really just want to see the Iron Bull working his magic on as many of the Inquisition members as possible :D '
I ended up using my Inquisitor, M!Lavellan, because I found it hard to picture another one, hope that's OK.
Thanks so much to my spouse RoastedWolf for their help and encouragement in writing this!
Lavellan: light bondage.
"There we go. No Inquisition. No war. Nothing outside this room. Just you... and me."
"And..." Lavellan coughs. "Oh, wait. We're not mentioning that. Yes. I remember. You and me."
He reaches up to stroke Iron Bull's face instead. The door to his quarters is firmly locked, and they're almost alone.
The Inquisitor and the Bull have been playing this game long enough to know the rules by now. It's an open-ended relationship; something that suits both of them well, but it is a relationship. They give each other what they need.
Lavellan lies back idly, resting his head onto Bull's broad chest, held secure in the crook of the Qunari's arms. "I thought Josephine and Cullen would never stop bickering today at the war table. It's always the same argument; I wish they'd realise that. Headache like a pounding from a giant by the end of it."
"I'd pound you like a giant," Bull supplies, earning a slap on the belly from the elf, who struggles to hold in his laughter nonetheless. "But seriously, did you make that elfroot tea I told you about? You shouldn't let headaches fester."
"You're such a mother," Lavellan grumbles. "Yes, and Krem already asked me the same thing. You two are like a married couple. But enough of that."
He rolls over onto his stomach, now lying entirely on top of Bull's broad body. Bull gives a soft grin to his slender Inquisitor. "Just you and me," he repeats softly.
"Help me forget about today?"
Bull smiles. He can't say no to that face.
"The watchword is still 'Katoh', unless you want to change it," he reminds Lavellan, reaching under the bed for the bundle of soft rope – more like cloth – that they use for these moments.
"Mythal's breath, I know what the watchword is by now!" the elf complains, leaning forward onto his elbows.
"Better safe than sorry."
"I am safe. Now stop being so nice to me." Lavellan smiles. Bull gets back onto the bed, and complies.
Climbing onto Lavellan carefully and pinning down the Inquisitor's thighs with his knees, Bull looms over the elf with a grunt and grabs his arms, smoothly tying them to the headboard. Lavellan shivers with anticipation, letting Bull be the one to ply his limbs from move to move, like a puppet. Here in this room, he has no say (unless he really wants to). He's acted upon. He's done to.
Bull parts the Inquisitor's legs with casual ease, pawing the elf's crotch through the material, earning an undignified whine. Taking his time, with a grin, he leisurely unbuttons Lavellan's shirt, large fingers pausing to linger on a nipple before moving down to rest on the seam of the Inquisitor's breeches.
"Bull, please." Lavellan huffs. Bull looks up.
"The proud Inquisitor, come undone. Who knew it was this easy?" he chuckles low. The elf's face is flushed, whole body taut and straining up with wanting, held back by his arms locked tight to the headboard and Bull's massive legs pinning down his lower body.
"Just... come on." Lavellan fights his dignity, trying not to throw his head back or make any embarrassing noises, but he's not sure how much teasing he can take, and he's fully hard now against his breeches.
"I don't know what you're asking for. And it doesn't look like you can move very much. Perhaps I'll take all the time in the world," says Bull, cutely, kissing him once.
Lavellan's teeth snap at him like a vice, catching Bull's pointed nose. The Qunari tears away and rubs indignantly at the offended schnoz. "That wasn't very nice!"
"Just fuck me already, would you?"
"Well, if you're going to be so rude about it, maybe I should teach you a lesson about who's in charge here."
The Bull's voice has become a low, serious rumble now, and he lowers his head to Lavellan's midriff, taking the rim of his breeches in his teeth and tugging them down the elf's legs expertly.
Laying small kisses up the Inquisitor's pale legs, he considers teasing Lavellan a little more with some oral edging, but decides against it – he doesn't think either of them can wait any longer, and is becoming increasingly aware of the straining hardness in his own breeches. Sitting up and taking his length out, he sees Lavellan groan with relief and throw his head back.
"Finally!"
"Wait your turn. You need preparation." Bull turns away and reaches for the jar of oil next to the bed.
"Nooo, I don't," Lavellan argues rather weakly.
"I am not being held responsible for hospitalising the Inquisitor. Cass would flay me alive. Your delicate elvhen frame needs warming up." So saying, he worms a slicked finger up the Inquisitor's cleft and, eliciting a small gasp, works it into his entrance.
"Do not bring Cassandra into this scenario right now. The only thing on my mind is your cock, and it's creating a somewhat strange mental image." Lavellan mutters, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, as Bull adds another finger. Then his eyes open, annoyed. "And I am not delicate."
"Really?" Bull smirks. "Then I suppose you can take this without flinching?" He removes both fingers, then sticks them in again, hard.
The Inquisitor squeaks, bound hands clenching into fists. It's very sweet.
Bull lifts himself up and smoothly moves closer in, holding Lavellan by the hips and guiding himself in slowly. He allows himself a slow hiss of pleasure, one echoed by Lavellan, whose body opens up to him like a well-oiled machine. ...Though, well-oiled is pretty accurate. Bull laughs.
"Don't laugh at me," the elf mumbles, chin tucked into his chest, watching Bull with wide green eyes, then closing them again and gasping as Bull begins moving in earnest without a word.
They create a familiar, pleasurable friction as he slides his thick member in and out, pace gradually increasing, the only sounds in the room being hot, heavy breathing and the slick of bodies against each other. No words are needed right now, as Lavellan simply lies, takes what he's given, and enjoys it.
Finally, Bull gasps his release and pulls out, spilling onto Lavellan's stomach just in time. "Ahhh. Andraste's sacred balls, that was good." Then he looks down. "Oh, shit. Sorry. I've neglected you."
"Untie me and I'll finish myself off," Lavellan suggests breathlessly.
"Is that a Katoh 'untie me' or a Lavellan-being-stubborn 'untie me'? Because unless it's the former, you should let me take care of you."
"Okay," the Inquisitor agrees. "If you – ah! - insist." Before he can finish agreeing, Bull's warm hand comes down on his aching, untouched cock and slowly, steadily, pumps him to completion, no sound but their mixing warm breath by the bedside.
Bull stands up, stretching comfortably. "Well, I'd better get you a towel."
"Put some clothes on first," Lavellan reminds him hastily, watching the Qunari walk about the room jauntily with a smile. "We don't want a repeat of last time. I think Cullen's seen enough of you naked for a lifetime. The poor man keeps coughing awkwardly around me."
"Oh, he doesn't know what he's missing," Bull laughs, shrugging on his clownish breeches, and making for the door, before a small 'ahem' interrupts him.
"Still tied up over here?"
"Shit. Forget my own horns next." Bull hurries over and releases Lavellan's wrists, massaging them gently and sitting the elf up.
Lavellan grabs the horns in question and steers the Qunari towards him, smiling into Bull's mouth as they share a warm kiss.
"Thank you," he whispers. "I really needed that."