Torturing a Prince - A DragonAge 2 fanfiction (Mature)

Notes: Each chapter is a one-shot only, based off original and gathered prompts, that all, in some way or another, involve Sebastian – breaking his vows, more often than not. I do so love to torture him. : )

Warnings: Heavy smut, 16+ at all times, drugging, blackmail, threesomes, etc.

Original Idea/Prompt: Sebastian has been drugged, somehow, some way, and Hawke helps him back to the chantry to recover. There, they discover that his inhibitions have been lowered significantly, and Sebastian proceeds to blasphemously show Hawke how he's been feeling about her since they first met.

Disclaimer: Don’t own it, don’t sell it, just obsess over it!
Torturing a Prince

Pairing: Sebastian/F!Mage!Hawke
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Hawke stopped long enough to catch her breath when they reached the top of the staircase that led into Hightown, weariness seeping into her limbs even as her body supported Sebastian’s sagging one. Their group – she, he, Isabella, and Fenris – had been ambushed by a second group of lowtown thugs, some of which who were skilled enough rogues to throw off Sebastian and Isabella’s normally unbeatable skills. Near the end of the scuffle when Hawke had blasted the bastards bodies with lightning spells, one of the rogues(in a last desperate effort) chucked a vial of some odd, green bile at the Prince’s feet. It had exploded and wrapped the man in a fog of green, choking his lungs and making his head spin; Hawke was quick to reach his side to heal his injuries, but he had sagged, mumbling incoherently, so she had told the others to return to The Hanged Man while she escorted Sebastian back to his room in the Chantry.

“Hold on, Sebastian, we’re almost there,” she whispered reassuringly as she hefted his arm back over her shoulder, keeping a tight hold around his slim waist with her own. Luckily for her he seemed to keep on his feet, though he was unsteady, so his weight didn’t drop her small body to the ground. It was slow going but soon they were agonizingly making their way up the stairs into the Chantry.

“Elthina? Petrice?” Hawke called their names out, though not too terribly loud in case they were sleeping(highly likely due to the time of night, she knew). When no one answered, she sighed softly and started into the Chantry while still holding onto Sebastian. “Where am I going Sebastian?” She asked, unsure of where exactly the brothers and sisters were housed.

“Stairs to the left…my room…second room on the right…” he mumbled, slumping into her more. He turned his nose into her auburn curls, sniffing appreciatively.

“Sebastian?” Hawke stopped at the top of the stairs, her brows creasing anxiously.

“…smell heavenly…” he sighed.

“Uhm…okay, let’s get you to bed.” Hawke swallowed nervously and made her way down the hall with her friend, her steps slightly rushed due to the anxiety churning in her gut. She did her best not to stumble in her haste, but when they reached the door she had to juggle his stance; when she leaned to grab the knob and turn it, his weight fell into her just a tad too much. They toppled; Sebastian’s back hit the door and slammed it open with a resounding crack, while his arms wrapped around her to cushion the blow when they hit the ground. He mmm’d softly and didn’t release her. Her body trembled and she pushed her hands against his chest, going against the urge she had to close the mere space of inches between their lips. She hurriedly rolled herself off him and grasped him by the arm, helping the dazed man to his feet. She walked him over the bed and helped him to sit on the edge before she moved to the door, peering out to see if the ruckus had aroused anyone; satisfied the Chantry men and women remained asleep, she shut the door softly, plunging the room into darkness.

“So many nights,” Sebastian mumbled.

“What?” Hawke cast a faint fire spell over her hand, lighting the room enough to find the candles and send the dancing flames to light the wicks. The candles flickered into existence, shedding subtle light on the room they were in. She could see Sebastian, sitting where she left him, but he was watching her intently with those iridescent blue orbs that had haunted her dreams on more than one occasion – far more.

He hummed briefly, his eyes hazy; in truth, Sebastian’s head was still spinning. Everything almost felt surreal, like he could be in a dream, and if he was in a dream…he couldn’t take his eyes off her, that beautiful mage that had been haunting him since the moment she had approached him to tell him she’d slain his family’s murderers. She was close, standing across the room from him, her back pressed to the door, leafy green eyes watching him curiously. He slowly, somewhat unsteadily, pushed himself to his feet and began a slow saunter towards her. Hawke swallowed, feeling strangely like she was being hunted, like she was Sebastian’s prey – wait that was crazy, right? She shook her head. She was finally losing it, desiring him so much that she was misinterpreting his words, his actions. Sebastian had vows, vows of celibacy; there was no way that he desired her, always so cool and calm in her presence. Yet, she couldn’t deny that he felt…different.

Before she realized it, Sebastian was nose to nose with her, his hands on each side of her head. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest and, before she could even stutter his name nervously, his lips descended upon hers. She gasped with surprise and ripped her lips away, despite how her body screamed at her to just go with it.

“Sebastian! What are you doing?” She pressed her hands to his chest, but he refused to budge, his eyes smoldering and threatening to burn her alive with the desire she saw there.

“Oh lass, you don’t know how long I have desired you,” his voice was breathy and deep, his accent making her shiver.

“S-sebastian…I don’t understand…your vows…” her hands trembled on his breastplate.

He stared at her; he’d often had this dream, but in the end, she never pushed him away. How would this end any differently? His tongue ran across his lip, his head still foggy; was he dreaming? His hands slid from the door and he slid his fingers into her hair, clasping her gentle by the strands as he leaned down, stopping just shy of her lips. “Dear Hawke, every night I’ve dreamed of you, tonight is no different. Andraste guide me, to resist temptation in our day to day…” He sighed, his breath falling across her lips and making her shiver. “…but alas I cannot resist you any longer, lass. I have loved you for so long, Andraste strike me down.”

His lips fell across hers again and she moaned into his mouth, his tongue sweeping across her lips. When she gasped with pleasant surprise, he took the advantage and slid his skilled tongue in to tease her own. Though he’d been celibate for years, Sebastian had been a wild child, his skills in this department never lacking; Hawke found this out first hand as he turned his head to deepen the kiss, tongues dueling though his far outmatched her own. Her whimper of need was swallowed by him eagerly and she slid her hands up to his hair, gripping it almost tightly, making him shudder with want.

When the kiss finally broke, leaving them both panting, she dared to look into his deep ocean eyes and nearly combusted right there. She tried, very hard, one last time, to find some semblance of reasoning, knowing how he would come to regret this; he’d always been firm in his vows, never taking her inappropriate jokes to heart, or her innocent flirtations that she slipped him in hope of gaining his attentions. “Sebastian…your vows…”

“Don’t fret, lass. I want this,” he murmured against her lips, brushing them with his ever so softly. “Do you not want me, Hawke?”

“Maker help me, of course I want you, Sebastian; I always have.”

“I know,” he chuckled, a deep rumbling that made her smile and yet caused a rush of desire to shoot to her center sharply.

“What’s that supposed –“ He cut her off, crushing their lips together again. If she was going to argue, it quickly died away on a soft whimper. Just as in his dreams, she melted into his arms like she was made to be there. He held her there, easily, eagerly. Their lips melded together, almost dreamily, and he ached terribly for her. He took his hands from her hair and reached down to undo the buckles to his breastplate, all the while continuing to mesh his tongue on and around hers. He softly dropped the armor piece to the floor, grateful when it landed without any loud, jarring noise. He then removed his armor from his shoulder and arm, before aptly discarding of his gloves. Hawke’s hands took over, and slipped down to help him remove his coat, their heads angling to allow their kiss to deepen even further; next came the chainmail, all making a small stack on the floor beside them. “You have me at a disadvantage, lass,” he murmured with a smile, a chuckle, marveling at the beautiful flush that warmed her pale, freckled cheeks.

“Sebastian…this is unlike you…” she whispered wistfully on a sigh, tilting her cheek into his stroking fingers longingly.

“I am just weary of fighting my feelings.” He nuzzled his nose against cheek, before stroking it across her feather soft skin toward her hair. He sniffed appreciatively, whispering sinful words against the shell of her ear. “Do you not believe me? That I have longed for you, every night, every waking moment; to touch you, love you, to be deep inside of you where I know I belong?” He chuckled when she shuddered in his arms, his hands placing her own on his gloriously bare chest. “I thought not, lass.”

Hawke swallowed audibly, his bare chest hot beneath her hands, almost feverishly hot. Vaguely she wondered if he was sick and that was why he was behaving this way; he’d been poisoned, or drugged somehow, hadn’t he? “Sebastian…”

“Sh. It’s alright, sweetling,” he murmured against her hair, stroking his hands over her shoulders and arms, down to her hands, pressing them to his skin. “Touch me, as I’ve dreamed for so long.”

Hawke sighed softly, finally allowing herself to give into him, her hands slipping from his to graze his tanned flesh. His abdomen was more rigid that she had pictured, chiseled to perfection; all those days training as an archer, a skilled and adept rogue, had done wonders for his body, to which she was happy to admire. He touched her curls with his hand, bringing one to his nose as she caressed him. Her heavenly touch made him shiver, fingers sliding down toward his hips, stroking every inch of skin he’d bared for her. She hit the cool steel of his buckle and she deftly began to undo it, the belt then falling to join the pile of discarded clothes. He stopped her then, taking hold of her hands and backpedaling toward his bed; he turned them when the backs of his shins touched, laying her upon the modest furniture. She looked glorious, laying there on his bed, her fiery curls a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin and the whiteness of his bedspread.

“My turn, lass,” he whispered, kissing her again, teasingly, lightly, tiny promises of things to come. His fingers were quicker, more skilled, than hers; briefly she recalled when he’d confided in her of his wild adolescence. If was a fleeting thought, one that was lost when he parted the front of her robe, revealing the swell of her ample, pale breasts. He made a noise, a half groan, half moan, before he dipped his head down to drag his tongue along the swell of one, then the other. His hands cupped her breasts through the material, plucking at her stiffening nipples, making her arch and bite her lip from the tingles of pleasure dancing along her nerves.

He dipped his hand inside and finished releasing the ties and laces of her robes, opening them completely and slipping her from them so that she lay upon them in her smalls and nothing else. He sucked in a breath at the sight of her body in the faint light, her waist small and tucked, limbs long and lithe. He shuddered and sat back, turning enough to remove his shin and knee guards, then his boots, all of which landed with a thunk on the floor in his haste; last came his socks, leaving him in only his brown breeches. When he turned back to her, he found her turned away from him, her face in her hands; this came him an ample view of her supple rear which looked lovely enough to smack, the thought causing him to grow even more aroused.

“Is something the matter, sweetling?” He murmured as he came to lay just behind her, spooning her small body and pulling her back against him with a strong arm. She shivered and made a noise, her lip being abused by her teeth as she bit her lip sharply.

“I just fear this is all a dream, or that you will regret this once it’s all finished; I cannot bear to lose you, Sebastian, even as a friend,” she whispered on a sigh.

“You will not lose me, love, I promise.” He kissed the shell of her ear, tracing it with the tip of his tongue, nibbling upon the lobe with his teeth, and letting his breath fall on it coolly. She moaned and squirmed back into his body, her lovely behind pressing against his stiff cock, which in turn made him moan just as she had.

Hawke blushed hotly, grateful he could not see her face, when she realized what it was exactly that was pressing against her; his erection made her feel all woman, wanton, like she was beautiful, that she could be capable of making the Prince of Starkhaven feel this way for her. Feeling brave, she wiggled her bottom against him and he made a strangled noise of appreciation, his hands coming untie her breast band. He pulled it from her and leant up, rolling her beneath him onto her back, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. His hands cupped them, tweaked her cheery pink nipples, and his lips soon followed, turning her into a puddle of desire. Her head fell back when she moaned, her thighs rubbing together as the pleasure and tension increased in her cunny, making her wet and impossibly warm from the ache she felt for him.

As he lavished her breasts with his tongue, mouth, and teeth – occasionally tugging at a nipple or sharply biting it – he trailed his hands down her sides slowly, grasping the sides of her smalls on her hips. He pulled them off her trembling legs and tossed them aside. His lips trailed from her breasts, down her stomach; she stopped him anxiously when he reached the top of her pelvis, her hands tugging on his hair.

“Sebastian?” There was a question in her tone, as if she thought what he was about to do indecent, or unheard of; the thought made him balk – anyone who had been lucky enough to be with a woman like Hawke would have been daft not to please her in every way possible.

“Hush, sweetling,” he encouraged, smiling when her grip in his hair lessened, showing that she trusted him. He slid down further, opening her thighs for him as he dipped his head, his hands sliding up to her center when she was already so wet for him. He stroked her gently with his fingers, first her lips and then her clit, enjoying the way she shuddered and trembled under him. A single digit found home in her tight channel, his lips pressing to her nub; he began to thrust his finger in her gently, touching his tongue to her clit, stroking it, circling it, groaning with appreciation when it swelled with her desire. He added a second finger making her moan loudly, her hips arching into his ministrations as he went about pleasing her orally.

“Sebastian!” She gasped his name, shuddering as goose bumps rippled along her flesh and her nipples stiffened into tight peaks. Her vaginal walls tightened around his fingers and he thrust them faster in response, harder, his tongue working magic on her center of pleasure. A whimper, a moan, gasps; every noise of pleasure came from her as he built her higher and higher, before he tossed her off the cliff into the rippling, crashing waves of her climax. Her body bowed, her juices coating his fingers as he continued, letting her ride her orgasm to the trembling aftershocks. He found her taste intoxicating, loving every bit of her he was able to touch and taste. As she came down from her high, he lifted himself up from her and undid the lacing of his breeches, slowly pulling them down until he was only in his smalls.

When he glanced up at her face, he found that her eyes were locked on his hardened cock where it strained painfully against the restraints of his smalls. She looked, well, almost impressed, as if his size was something that she hadn’t expected. While she was so intent on staring, he slid out of the smalls, allowing his thick and very hard erection to spring free, all eight inches of him; he hadn’t seen many cocks, in reality, and neither had she, but he was indeed on the larger side which made the mage a little weary considering her small size. He smiled and crawled up over her, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue, something she found strangely arousing. His hands caressed her breasts again, his thigh now rubbing against her sensitive slit and nub, making her squirm under him. When he was satisfied she was more than ready for him, he set his hips in the cradle of her thighs, pulling her legs astride him as the head of his cock touched her cunny lips, rubbing, tracing, teasing ever so softly. Hawke shuddered and her thighs tightened on his hips; suddenly she could take no more and gripped his hair tightly, slamming her lips against his and devouring him. When she broke free from the kiss, she gasped, “now, Sebastian, inside me.”

He groaned and did as she said, sliding his cock into her excruciatingly hot and unbelievably wet channel. Her walls gripped him so tightly as he hilted himself in her sheath, both shuddering and moaning into a heated kiss. He started slowly, her hands holding onto his shoulders as he thrust himself within her, exploring, enjoying, and reveling. He filled her so wonderfully, and she managed to take all of him, her legs now wrapped around his waist and hips arching into his own. His thrusts became harder, and she made no objection, her moans increasing in frequency, her nails scoring his back.

Sebastian’s hands slipped from her hips to her ass, gripping it tightly as he began to almost pound inside of her, the sound of flesh hitting flesh hitting their ears amongst sounds of pleasure. He pushed her over the edge, moaning as he watched that expression of pure joy and ecstasy cross her beautiful features. Her walls clamped on him like a vice and he shuddered, continuing his thrusts through the exquisite feeling. Growling, he took her hands and pinned them above her head, slamming himself into her so hard he vaguely worried he may bruise her, but she made no objections, her cunny flooding him with appreciative warmth. Before long he couldn’t hold it back and found himself throwing his head back as his seed exploded inside of her, filling her with his essence to the brim.

He collapsed on top of her and released her wrists, stroking his fingers through her damp auburn curls. His lips found hers, gently, little pecks of affection; strangely the lightheadedness had passed and he felt more like this was reality and bathed in its impossible perfection. He pulled from her and laid on his side, pulling her into his arms and nuzzling his nose in her hair.

“Ah, perfection, pure perfection,” he mumbled, sighing, “I love you, Hawke.”

She giggled and nuzzled her nose against his neck, her arms tight around his waist as he held her. “I love you, Sebastian.”

They bathed in the afterglow, but little did they know that some of the slumbering sisters had awoken and summoned Elthina to discover what exactly had been going on behind the closed doors of Brother Sebastian’s room; The Grand Cleric had heard nearly everything and walked away from the door without disturbing them, a small smile tugging at the edges of her lips.

Torturing a Prince

Pairing: F!Hawke/Fenris/Sebastian (Act III, a little after Alone) Dom!Fen, also Dom!Seb.



It had all started at The Hanged Man, as most things tended to. It all started with a little too much alcohol, as it often did. That was the way their lives went, as mercenaries, and when their leader, Hawke, was the Champion of Kirkwall; when they weren’t busy, they came here and bonded over booze.

It was in the thorough of their hazy buzz that Isabella decided to question Sebastian about his days as a wild child. Normally he wouldn’t have indulged the pirate’s insistent nagging, but tonight was different.

Hawke, despite finally being together with her very sexy elf, found herself listening a little more intently than she would have liked to admit. As he told stories of his wanton, lusty youth, she could not help but feel aroused at the images the Chantry Boy was inducing in all of their minds, or in reality probably just hers’ and Isabella’s. He didn’t give details, but it wasn’t hard for Hawke to picture the toned, tanned, auburn haired man naked in all his glory, thrusting into a buxom little maiden who’d dared to tousle with him in the barns.

What would he look like naked? Hawke wondered, the thought making her draw her tongue over her suddenly dry lips.

She abruptly started when she felt a hand on the flesh of her thigh, beneath the skirts of her rogue armor, trailing dangerously close to her aroused center. Her golden eyes quickly found Fenris’ mossy ones and he smirked, scratching his nails across her skin to let her know that he knew exactly what it was that Hawke had been thinking.

She inwardly groaned; this wasn’t going to be the last she heard of it.
--
Oh, she had been right to think that wouldn’t be the last she heard of it. What she hadn’t expected was for her love to be speaking of this.

“Would that please you, minx?” Fenris asked as he nuzzled her throat, teasing the skin with his teeth, making her shudder with pleasure. She placed her hands on his shoulders; to pull him closer, or push him away, she wasn’t certain.

“Fenris…I don’t even…I can’t…” She was at a loss, really, something that was unheard of for the rogue; she was always the one speaking her mind, not caring what people thought. Both her best and worst quality.

He pushed her back on the bed, slowly, leaning over her like the big bad wolf who’d found his prey. It was so erotic to her. He pulled open the belt of her manor clothes, spreading the cloth to bare her breasts to him; they found small clothes too bothersome when alone, after reconciling after three years they found it nearly impossible to keep their hands off each other. Fenris tossed off his gauntlets and pinned her wrists to the bed, dropping his head to pull an aching nipple between his teeth. Hawke arched and cried out from the sharp pinch, wet arousal quickly pooling at the apex of her thighs.

“You will answer me, my little hawke,” he growled, pushing his leg between her thighs and rubbing it against her folds through the material of her skirt. She shuddered and whimpered, straining toward him, but her stubborn elf kept her pinned, determined to get an answer from her.

“Fenris…but I…” His hard, punishing kiss broke off her words, not allowing her another denial. His tongue was relentless, dueling quite masterfully with hers’ and causing her train of thought to stop dead in its tracks.

Very slowly, he lifted his head and his eyes glinted down at her, almost dangerously. The predatory look had her nearly at orgasm for him, right there. “Answer me,” he whispered, pushing his thigh harder against her now drenched folds that, embarrassingly, dampened her skirt.

She whimpered and, unable to bear not having her wolf deep inside of her, nodded slowly. “Yes, yes, Fenris. Is that what you wanted to hear? I am attracted to Sebastian! I have fantasized about him! I have wondered what it would be like to enjoy him, and him watching us…” She bit her lip and frowned, afraid that she would be hurting him with this admission. His small smirk had her very confused then.

“Would you like him buried between your luscious thighs?” He then asked, causing Hawke’s eyes to widen so wide she was sure they would pop from her head.

“Fenris!”

“Answer me, little hawke,” he grinned, and leaned his head down to bite her nipple again.

“Fenris! What is this about! Why did you even ask if Sebastian watching us would please me?”

“That isn’t what I asked,” he growled, swirling her nipple with his tongue and nipping sharply as he roughly worked his thigh, now damp as well, against her. She shuddered and whimpered, pulling uselessly against his hold.

“Yes! Oh Maker forgive me but yes!” She sobbed the words, thrown over into her first orgasm by this display of dominance that her elf was showing her. Her shuddering frame bowed and he suckled at her, continuously rubbed against her, until she eased within his hold.

“Your wish is my command,” he whispered, untying his breeches so that his hardened arousal could be let loose. Without giving her a chance to register what he had just acknowledged, he thrust himself inside of her, both of them crying out from the sheer pleasure of being joined. He made certain to drive her to sobs of wanton pleasure before the night was over, thinking of how exactly to encourage the prince to join their activities when he held her in his arms long after she’d fallen asleep.
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“You are surely jesting,” Sebastian said slowly, his arms folded over the breastplate of his armor, an incredulous expression over his handsome features. His piercing blue eyes were locked on Fenris warily, who was lounging on the sofa across from him in Hawke’s study.

“Does it appear that I am jesting?” The elf’s lips twitched, threatening to break into an amused smirk.

“I…I am uncertain.”

“I do not jest, Sebastian. How long have we known each other? Years, many, many years. Have you known me to jest?”

“Well…no. You’re right, my friend, you do not.” The Prince swallowed the lump that was in his throat, his head nearly drowning in erotic images that Fenris’ words had invoked.

Fenris folded his arms across his chest, mirroring the man, a brow rising in question over his smirk. “What is your answer then, Sebastian?”

“I…I have vows, you know this. I cannot partake of carnal pleasures,” he whispered the words, though the conviction in his words was weak at best. Fenris’ proposal, the very thought of accepting it, had his hard beneath his breeches; for once he was thankful for his Andraste buckle.

Fenris chuckled, very unlike him, almost as if he were enjoying this; Sebastian had never seen this side of his friend, but the deviant side of him certainly liked it. The elf stood and walked toward him, stopping just at his side so he could lean toward his ear. “Are you really certain you want to pass on the chance to bury yourself in her? There really is no greater feeling,” Fenris murmured. “She has admitted to me that she is intrigued by you; will you really let such trivial vows keep you from this?” Sebastian shuddered and swallowed loudly. “You are a prince; if you plan to take back your throne, you will need to take a bride and produce heirs. Your vows will be broken then, why not…get a head start?” Fenris chuckled and moved away from him, heading towards the door. He almost – almost – grinned when the prince’s hand shot out to grasp his arm so he would stop.

“I didn’t say no,” Sebastian said thickly as the elf looked back at him, pulling his arm away.

Fenris smirked. “I thought not.”
--
Hawke wet her lips nervously and smiled coyly at Sebastian who sat on the edge of her bed, dressed down to his tunic and his breeches, his feet bare; Maker, he looked as nervous as a virgin, she thought with amusement. She knew the truth though, she and Fenris did, that deep down, Sebastian was as deviant as the rest of them. Her golden eyes found her love, who was behind the prince, lounging against the headboard with arousal evident in his eyes, and in the bulge that tented his breeches, his chest wonderfully bare.

Goosebumps rose over her arms as a shudder skated down her spine; surely she was dreaming.

“Go on, minx, show him exactly what you have been thinking of,” Fenris chuckled. Sebastian turned berry red at his words, though Hawke could see the arousal in the rather large bulge straining against his pants. Oh, Maker, what had she gotten herself into?

She swallowed and moved forward on light steps, kneeling down in front of Sebastian as she laid her hands to rest of his knees; he was trembling, she realized. She leaned forward and kissed the bulge of his cock, his head falling back with a groan as his hands fisted in the bed’s blanket. Her hands drifted to the ties and unlaced them, pulling his breeches open and grasping them at his hips to she could pull them down off him. She surprised him by taking his small clothes with them, his eyes staring down at her wide, his pupils dilated with lust, as his thick shaft jutted out at her, begging to be touched. Her mouth found it, tongue teasing the head before daring to lick at the sides of his shaft. She swallowed him before he could react, his head being thrown back as she took almost every inch of him; Maker! She never censored her words, so why should he be shocked that she didn’t censor this? Hawke was damn good, moving her lips and mouth up and down his hard cock, deep throating to add tight restrictions around him. He wouldn’t last long at this rate, he inwardly groaned, shuddering.

“Yes, that’s it love, make him cum,” he heard Fenris moan from behind him and he turned his head, shocked to see that Fenris had undid his breeches and was stroking his own hardened dick as he watched his lover pleasure another man. That did it, the image sent Sebastian over the edge and he cried out, his seed splashing into her mouth to which she swallowed quite eagerly. She lifted her head and licked her lips, giving the prince a coy smile. “My turn, minx,” Fenris growled and Hawke stood, stripping herself of her house clothes, leaving her body gloriously nude; at once Sebastian was hard again.

He watched her crawl past him on all fours, toward her elf, his eyes suddenly locked on her glistening cunny and sweet, shapely ass. Surely he would burn for this, he mused wryly. Fuck it; he didn’t care, not anymore. He couldn’t pass on this, Andraste forgive him. Hawke was between Fenris’ thighs now, her mouth on the elf’s cock, doing to him what she had just done to Sebastian. He watched as she stripped him of his pants, before returning to suck him and lick him. Her hand found his sac, pulling at it, caressing it, as she ate at his cock eagerly. Sebastian found it too much to bear. He lifted his eyes to Fenris and found the elf giving him a knowing smirk. Fenris seemed to read his thoughts, because he nodded, almost unnoticeably.

Sebastian made a choked noise and nearly tore his tunic off in his eagerness to get to Hawke. He crawled up the bed behind her as she continued to please Fenris with her mouth, the noises nearly driving Sebastian mad with one hundred percent unadulterated lust. The prince came up behind her on his knees, his hands stroking her hips before sliding around to dip his fingers in her unbearably wet cunt, groaning from the feel of it tightening around his intruding digits. Fenris gave a knowing chuckle, though he bit his lip and let his head fall back, his hands tight in his love’s hair as she moaned on his cock.

Unable to bear it any longer, Sebastian pressed the head of his cock against her cunt and thrust his hips, burying himself deep inside of her in one sure stroke. All three of them moaned, in unison, and Sebastian found that it was very erotic. He started his thrusts, shuddering at the feel of her vaginal walls tight around him like a vice, almost unbelieving at how tight she really was.

She lifted her head from Fenris’ cock with a moan, breathless whimpers following every one of his pounds into her, his hands tight on her hips. In truth she was enjoying him, immensely, but Fenris’ could see the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “He’s being awfully gentle, isn’t he, love?” Hawke moaned, lapping at her elf’s cock as she spoke.

Sebastian stilled and looked at her with brows raised high. “Gentle?”

“Seems so,” Fenris purred in his velvet voice. He lifted her face and kissed her roughly, lovingly, before pulling back. “I fuck you much harder, don’t I, minx?”

Sebastian was nearly sputtering in indignation, the two of them trying hard to not laugh at her teasing. Fenris knew what she was up to; taunting the prince to bring out the wild child they’d all heard stories of. Quite a brilliant plan, really. “You want rough? I’ll show you just how rough I can be, minx,” the prince nearly growled. Fenris’ lips were twitching and Hawke had to smother her giggle by licking Fenris’ cock again.

He took his cock from her and placed the wet head against the puckered star of her sexy derriere. When she moaned and wiggled her ass back against him, he growled and slowly started pushing his member into her forbidden entrance. The head popped in and she whimpered as he moved inch by inch until he gloriously filled her. Sebastian moaned loudly and started moving, thrusting himself through the tight right of muscle over and over, the feeling exquisite. It was such a naughty, erotic, taboo thing he was doing to her; it only served to arouse him further.

Fenris was enjoying it nearly as much as the prince, as Hawke nearly screamed in pleasure from the feeling of being taken that way. Whimpers and moans followed every thrust and Fenris couldn’t take it anymore, pushing her up so that he could pull her away from Sebastian who protested, but quickly quieted when Fenris gave him a knowing look. The elf grabbed Hawke by her supple ass cheeks, rising to his knees and pulling her flush against him; they shared a long, deep kiss and then he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist. He sheathed himself into her cunt with one thrust and they moaned, Fenris spreading her cheeks to Sebastian’s stare. The prince blushed with arousal and licked his lips, moving closer to them and gripping her hips as he placed himself back into her rump with one, hard thrust that had her screaming.

She was lost in pleasure at that point, both of the men moving in unison to fill her. She felt so full, maker help her, it was the most pleasurable sensation. She let her head fall back against Sebastian’s shoulder, her golden eyes hazed over with pleasure, legs tight around the elf’s waist as she grabbed desperately at his shoulders to hold her in reality. They were all panting, groaning, the men pounding her hard, frantically, driving her through multiple orgasms and screams of completion. The two continued, grunting, chests heaving, making each climax roll into the other until she was one big bundle of nerves and continuous orgasms.

Fenris lifted his hand and grabbed Sebastian by his hair, pulling the man forward, and kissed him deeply over Hawke’s shoulder, who moaned between them, her cunt and derriere so hot and tight and torturous. They continued to kiss as they drove home and then Sebastian broke it with a huff of breath, crying out “now!” as he spilled himself deep inside of her forbidden tunnel, Fenris following a moment later with a long growl.

They pulled free from her, but both continued to hold the dazed, half unconscious Hawke in their arms as they fell to the bed in a mess of limbs. All were out of breath, and tingling, so satisfied that they wondered if they could go back to normal sex after this.

They fell asleep together, and Sebastian smiled softly, thankful he hadn’t said no after all.

Notes: Each chapter is a one-shot only, based off original and gathered prompts, that all, in some way or another, involve Sebastian – breaking his vows, more often than not. I do so love to torture him. : )

Warnings: Heavy smut, 16+ at all times, drugging, blackmail, threesomes, etc.

Original Prompt/Idea: As lame and nerdy as this sounds, this was a dream of mine; Sebastian and Hawke stayed in a relationship, despite his vows of chastity – however, he was adamant about remaining faithful to his vows until after they’re married. Their wedding day arrives…with some unforeseen events.

Disclaimer: Don’t own it, don’t sell it, just obsess over it!
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Torturing A Prince
Pairing: Sebastian/F!RogueHawke.
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Six years; six years, she had been celibate, after not exactly having the least sexually active lifestyle of their group. Only member of their merry little band that had seen more sex than she was Isabella; hell, even her and Isabella had a couple nights of drunken fun. Yet, somehow, the Champion Rogue of Kirkwall had fallen for the celibate ex-chantry brother and exiled prince, Sebastian Vael. Despite her attempts to persuade the irresistible, bronzed man to return to his wild, wanton youth, he had remained steadfast, albeit somewhat reluctantly, in his vows. In their desire to be together, they’d come to a compromise after Meredith had gone insane – they would marry and, once they gave their vows in witness of the Maker, they would come together as man and woman in the bedroom.

Maker, as the months had passed, Hawke had gotten more and more restless, and anxious. They shared heated kisses in moments of weakness, but they did little to compare with what she wanted to do. Often she found herself fantasizing about his tanned hands bending her over the desk, where she ‘ruled’ as Viscount, and lifting her skirt to fuck her into the Fade and back.

The day of their wedding came. Just after the reopening of the Chantry, when all of the time spent piecing together the temple, that Anders had decimated, finally came to fruition. A grand ceremony had been the center of the city’s attention where Hawke and Sebastian, now Viscountess and True Prince of Starkhaven, unveiled the statue of Elthina and announced they would come together as both a nation – Kirkwall and Starkhaven- and as man and wife the very next day. Safe to say the rogue had tossed and turned all night and woke, sweaty and tangled in the sheets, thighs soaked with arousal she wanted coating his cock rather than herself. It was at that point that she decided enough was enough – one way or another, Sebastian was going to fuck her, and it would be before she said ‘I do.’

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Noon-time came, when the Sun was at its peak in the surprisingly clear sky. The people of Kirkwall were dressed in the finest and even the mages, and their Templar brethren, had amassed to see their Viscountess marry – after all, it had been her that had finally united the city; mage, templar, chantry brother, or sister, rich, poor; none of it mattered now, things within the city were peaceful at last. Now if only Hawke felt the same, but no, the Viscountess was pacing the room where she was gowned in her wedding attire, wound tighter than a demon’s thrall.

She snapped around when the maid returned. The elf girl, Oranna, who had always served Hawke without a complaint, bustled toward her, a bit flustered in her hurry to bring the Viscountess the information she had requested. “The Prince is across the hall, three doors down; he was alone in prayer when I peaked in, messere.”

Hawke’s golden eyes twinkled mischievously. “Thank-you, Oranna. Should anyone come calling for me, would you please tell them I needed a few moments of fresh air before the ceremony?” At the girl’s happy-to-comply nod, Hawke chuckled quietly to herself and slipped her a few golden sovereigns.

“Try not to ruin your dress, messere,” Oranna giggled as she took the coins. Hawke’s lace and silk clothed form slipped from the room as quiet as a specter, and floated toward Sebastian’s room, where he prayed, unaware of what she had planned for him.

-----

Sebastian stood at the stain glass window of the room where he’d dressed in his finery; the black leather vest trimmed in white, matching black leather breeches, black noble boots that came to below his knees, and a white blouse with high, button shut collar, and long sleeves tapered in at the elbows and wrists. It was a fine, tailored look, a little more fancy than he had become accustomed to over the years he spent exiled in Kirkwall at Hawke’s side; not that his armor had been shabby, far from in fact. But fine, tailored clothes? It had been awhile. His tanned fingers adjusted the somewhat stiff collar, his thoughts drifting as his piercing blue eyes studied, through the many colors of the stain glass, the people amassing to make their way into the Chantry for his wedding…to Viscountess Hawke.

It seemed like ages ago that he’d first laid eyes on the curly, dark haired lass, with golden eyes, and dirt covered pale skin, standing before him with a lopsided grin to tell him she had killed the mercenaries responsible for his family’s assassination. Maker, it had taken all his strength and then some to keep his hands off of the spit fire that held his heart. She could have been Andraste incarnate, she was so beautiful. Endless nights of tormented dreams where he slaked his desires for her flesh – it was a miracle, achievable only in his Faith in the Maker, that he had been able to wait as long as he had. A test of will. Tonight he would be rewarded…at last.

He was so lost in his thoughts, his rogue tuned sense failed to alert to the fact that Hawke had slid into his room and latched the door locked behind her. She stood for a moment, her pink tongue sliding across a plump lip as she took in the sight of those tight leather breeches cupping his firm ass. A grin soon followed when she realized that he hadn’t noticed her entering his room; catching him off guard would give her plan a more favorable start, than if he had time to react with logic. Her dress was figure tight, emphasizing every curve of her short, yet curvy body, low cut to show off the creamy swell of her ample bosom – she would use the body conscious dress she’d ordered to her advantage. Sneaking forward on silent steps, she came up just behind the auburn haired prince and placed her hands over his eyes. He jumped, but before he could react further, she pressed the length of her body into his back, mashing her breasts against him as she stood on tip toe so that when she spoke, her breath would fall like a whispering caress against his ear.

“Guess who?” she all but purred, drawing her tongue along to shell of his ear, before she flicked the lobe. He shivered, but stiffened quickly, no doubt steeling his resolve.

“Viscountess; don’t you think it’s inappropriate for me to lay eyes upon you before the ceremony?” He chuckled and lifted his hands, grasping her hands and lowering them to his chest where he held them immobile.

“Tsk tsk, Sebastian, no need to be so formal…” Hawke pouted, resting her cheek against the back of his shoulder. “After all, when night falls, I’ll be moaning under you and writhing in pleasure, sweat making my body glisten in the candle light as my feminine flesh squeezes your rod until you cannot help but spill your seed within me.” It was her turn to chuckle, albeit a little mischievously, when he bit back a groan and completely stiffened in her hold. His hold on her hands tightened, and she could feel his hands trembling slightly, giving her faith in the stability of her impromptu seduction.

“Hawke…” His tone held a warning she knew well, but one she would not heed…this time. She had waited long enough, and it was time she knew exactly what she would be getting when she promised herself to him in the Maker’s eyes.

“Sebastian,” she chuckled, audibly this time. Her hips pressed forward, rocking slightly against his very nicely shaped ass, the very one she longed to squeeze with her hands. “What’s wrong with a little taste? Hmmm? I’m absolutely delicious…”

He visibly trembled from the effort it was taking to keep himself from rubbing back against her. Already his cock was rock hard beneath his breeches. It didn’t take more than a look at her to make him hard. This was torment, tempting torment, which she knew all too well how to wield. But they were so close, so close. They could make it until tonight. “That’s enough, Sumi. We promised to wait until our wedding night,” he whispered, though his voice lacked his normal conviction; she was temptation embodied.

“We’ve waited long enough, don’tcha think, my love?” She slipped her hands from his body and moved in front of him, enjoying the way his eyes widened at her appearance. She reclined against the sill of the stain glass window, drawing a finger down his chest as she licked her lips, leaning her upper body forward enough to give him a more than generous view of her breasts. Which his eyes fell to instantly. Her golden eyes gleamed when she saw his throat work as he swallowed hard. “What’s a handful of hours matter compared to the years I have longed for you?”

“Hawke…”

“Shh, my love.” Her finger stopped at the lip of his breeches, toying with it almost idly, making his body reflexively jerk toward her touch. Golden eyes looked up at him from under long, raven lashes, longing and lust evident in the way they smoldered. “It won’t matter if you fuck me now, or later tonight – it is the day of our wedding. I have waited and I want to taste you…” His eyes watched as her tongue swept across her lips. “I want to feel you. I want you to hike up my dress, turn me around, and fuck me up against this very window. I’ve dreamt of it every night, Sebastian.”

He moaned, loud. Then swallowed. In his uncertainty, she took the opportunity to pluck open the button to his breeches and undo the laces. She had to curb her surprise when he didn’t stop her. His chest heaved and he clenched his hands at his side, his body still undeniably stiff. “Maker Hawke…we’re so close…hours…”He tried desperately tried to find some logic to grasp onto but with her dainty, yet toughened, fingers dancing so close to his aching erection, it was hard to think at all.

“Exactly. What are a few hours going to really matter in the scheme of things?” She chuckled again and rubbed her palm against his cock through the breeches, enjoying the way he bit his lip and swallowed his moan. Just a little more, and he’d break, she had no doubt of that when she saw the fire slowly beginning to burn in his eyes. “Think about it, my love…mmm, just to turn me around…” her fingers plucked his cock from its confines and caressed it, her eyes locked on it; he was long, and thick, maker, for a moment, she actually feared his size compared to her small body. He tipped his head back and moaned, his cock twitching in her hand. “Shove me against the window, and lift my dress…it would be so easy, you know…as I am not wearing anything underneath.”

Hawke barely finished her sentence when everything became crazy. Something in him snapped. He growled, and slammed his lips down on hers, kissing her hard and heavy, biting her lip and tugging on it. She moaned appreciatively and it seemed to spur him on; the next thing she knew, his hands were on her, turning her around so quickly that she lost her balance and pressed into the window. It didn’t faze him. His hands were on her skirts, hiking them, shoving the material up until it bunched on her hips and he could see her plump ass. She shuddered and gasped when he smacked his palm against a cheek, before groping them both and fondling her. At once her cunny flooded with arousal, her hands gripping the sill as she trembled. He slid his leg between hers and used it to spread her open, his hips dipping in and, before she could realize it was happening, his cock speared her cunt in one hard, almost punishing, thrust. Hawke cried out and Sebastian growled, his fingers digging into her hips hard in an effort to hold still long enough for her small canal to adjust to his size.

“Oh Maker, Sebastian!”

“Yes, that’s it, Sumi…open up to me,” he growled the words, leaning forward and biting her neck, hard, punishing, in a way to claim her body as his own. She moaned and whimpered, her cunt tightening on him and flooding his cock in warmth that told him she was enjoying his dominance. He released her neck and started pulling free from her, only to slam back into her hard and fast, then did it again. And again. “Was this was you wanted, Sumi?” He groaned during his hard thrusts, his flesh slapping against hers hard enough to be heard in the silence of the room. “Was this what you dreamt about?” He took a hand and gripped her hair, pulling back on it so that her back bowed, her body almost straining as she moaned.

“Yes, yes! OH MAKER YES!”

“Good!” He nearly roared the word, not caring if anyone heard them. He kept his hold in her hair as he rode her, slamming his cock into her hot, unbearably wet, sheath over and over. Hard, and fast. As his climax nearly breached, he slowed, despite her whimpers, pulling back from his release, wanting to prolong it. When she voiced her displeasure, he lifted his hand from her hip and brought his palm down in a resounding smack on her ass cheek. She cried out and whimpered, before letting out a strangled moan as he returned his grip and began pounding into her as he had before.

------

Oranna blushed and tried to busy herself in the hall, clearly able to hear what the couple was doing in the Prince’s room. Maker help her, but it was turning her on, her own body responding to the way they sounded.

“What is that noise?”

“What noise?”

“You don’t hear that?”

Oranna hurried to the end of the hall where a pair of Chantry Sisters were coming around the corner. She placed up her hands beseechingly, despite the sisters’ odd, somewhat confused stares. “My mistress isn’t feeling too well. Bad fish for lunch. The Prince is checking on her, go on, go on; she won’t like being so venerable in front of you.”

They bought it, it seemed, and turned, moving back down toward the main chamber. Oranna let out a sigh of relief, but inwardly hoped Hawke and the Prince would hurry, not wanting to suffer much longer with how arousing they were to listen to.

------

Sweat dripped down Sebastian brow, but he wasn’t finished, not yet. She had started this and he was determined to finish it. She’d cummed on his cock twice now, trembling and panting, with her hands pressed against the window. He sucked in a deep breath and pulled free from her, turning her around and scooping her up. Their lips met as he carried her, kissing deeply, lovingly, before he set her on the edge of the desk and spread her legs, settling between them. His hands gripped her thighs, wrapping them around his waist as he shoved his cock back into her drenched, trembling cunny. She moaned and gripped his shoulders as he thrust, dipping his hips to angle up to strike her spot, making her cum again.

“Yes, that’s it, cum for me, again and again,” he groaned, pushing her down on the desk by her shoulders and brining her legs up against his chest, straight and shut, making her trembling cunt a tight vice around his intruding cock. “OH MAKER, yes, that’s it!” He growled and held tight, thrusting again and again, hard, fast, then faster and faster, harder, sweating, shuddering; he was so close, he could feel it, the orgasm he had been denying himself for so long. Just a little more…and THERE! He roared and tossed his hand back, hips frantically thrusting as his orgasm rocked his foundation, his seed jetting into her, coating her in every way, bathing her, branding her, so there was no doubt she was his.

He panted, dropping her legs to his hips so that he could lean down and kiss her trembling lips softly and tenderly. “We look a little…out of sorts, Sumi, for our wedding.” They both chuckled, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. “Best get fixed up, as much as I enjoy this view…”

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Their wedding went smoothly, and a couple hours later, they were married – despite the fact they’d had some fun before the ceremony didn’t seem to bother them, and in fact, went missing several times during their reception dinner. Varric could be seen walking up to their companions – Aveline, Fenris, Merrill – and gathering a substantial amount of coin from each. When Isabella asked what for, the dwarf had grinned and said “I bet them Sebastian wouldn’t hold out until the wedding night.”

Notes: Each chapter is a one-shot only, based off original and gathered prompts, that all, in some way or another, involve Sebastian – breaking his vows, more often than not. I do so love to torture him.

Warnings: Heavy smut, 16+ at all times, drugging, blackmail, threesomes, etc. (This one contains incest.)

Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't sell it, just obsess over it!

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Torturing A Prince

Pairing: Sebastian/F!Rogue!Hawke/Bethany

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Hawke smiled and embraced her sister, arms wrapping tightly around the young Grey Warden’s frame. It had been a long time since she’d seen Bethany; not since they had come together to find out why they were the targets of assassination. When they had learned of their father’s involvement in keeping an ancient Magister sealed away. It was nice to see her little sister in a peaceful moment, rather than in the flurry of battle and looming, ominous shadows that always seemed to follow her and those closest to her.

“Dear Sister, it is good to see you,” Bethany smiled as she pulled back.

“It is. How long are you allowed to stay?”

“A week, at least.” Bethany glanced around the room, stepping away to walk over to the rather impressive Viscount’s desk that her sister had received when accepting the position as Viscount of Kirkwall. That was almost a year ago, to the day. “Life has been good to you, sister.” She trailed her fingers over the desk, before turning and resting her hips against the surface, arms folded across her chest. “Viscount and Princess.”

Hawke sighed and shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. “I married Sebastian because I love him, not to be princess of Starkhaven.”

Bethany nodded, though inside she could feel the familiar churn in her gut whenever her sister said she loved the Prince; the young Grey Warden mage had always harbored tender feelings for Sebastian Vael, but when they had gone to the Deep Roads…everything had changed. She had been sent to the Grey Wardens to save her life, while her sister had returned and grown close to the Prince. In the end, after Anders and the destruction of the Chantry, the two had married and worked together to rebuild – when Sebastian had come with them to find out about the assassination attempts, she had to admit to herself the jealousy that burned in her blood, the envy.

“…Sebastian is here?” She asked as nonchalantly as she could, looking at some obscure spot on the wall as if something there fascinated her.

“He is spending some time here, aye. He is family now, so I asked him to join us.” Hawke approached her, gently clasping her arm and smiling. “Come; let us go to the house.”

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Dinner had gone well enough, Hawke figured. Bethany had asked to retire early and had taken their mother’s old room; she knew something was bothering her little sister, but she continued to keep it bottled up, a habit she had gained after joining the Grey Wardens. While she wanted to believe otherwise, she knew Bethany harbored resentment toward her for what had transpired in the Deep Roads; she would not have done a single thing differently. If she had not taken charge, her sister would have died. The only difference of choice would have been leaving Bethany with her mother; she would have been safe, or at least safer.

“Are you alright, lass?” Sebastian wandered up behind her to turn her, his arms having wrapped around her slim waist to pull her flush against his warm body. His nose immediately nuzzled her throat, taking in the faint lavender and leather scent that was uniquely hers.
She mmm’d softly and nodded, lips trailing across his defined jawline as he continued to nuzzle her neck.

“Aye; I just wish I knew how she felt. She has stopped confiding in me all together. Sometimes I think it’s because I sent her to the Grey Wardens.”

Sebastian raised his head, the back of his knuckles dragging across her cheek in a comforting way. “You did that to save her life, she knows this. There is a rift – but I know eventually you will be able to bridge that gap and find your way back to each other.”

Hawke’s smile was immediate and tender. “You always know just what to say,” she whispered as she slid her arms around his neck and brought his head down. Her lips brushed faintly across his own, teasing, tempting. A brief caress that had him longing for more.

“And you, lass, always know just what to do,” he gave that sexy chuckle that made her knees weak before he turned them. His body pressed against hers, pushing her against the wall by the bottom of the stairs. Since the Chantry had been destroyed, he’d resigned himself to the fact he could not keep his vows to the Chantry; not only because he needed an heir, but also because of the love for Hawke he’d been fighting for all those years. He’d married her because he loved her, not for an heir. His bruising, yet passionate kiss was proof of that, and if that was not enough, there was the way his hands were running through her dark curls, and then the way they slid down her neck, over her shoulders to find her generous breasts; his strong hands cupped them, caressed them, nimble fingers tuned by years with a bow pinching and tugging at hardening peaks. Her moans were an aphrodisiac he knew he would never tire of. His hands plucked open the fabric of her top, before she caught his wrists, gasping as she broke their kiss.

“Not here,” she whispered as she tried to catch her breathe.

“Bethany may yet wander from her room. Come, we should go upstairs.”

Keeping a hold of a hand, she led him around the banister and up the stairs, the two exchanging a number of heated kisses on the trek up. By the time they reached the Master bedroom, their perspective tops were still barely hanging on, skin glistening in the faint light of the manor. The door was kicked shut behind them, though it failed to close completely; they paid no heed, too wrapped up in each other as they tumbled to the bed.

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Bethany wanted to apologize; at least, that had been her original intention. Her amber gaze had watched as husband and wife nearly tumbled on the stairs in their embrace, hurriedly trying to make their way to Hawke’s bedroom. Sebastian’s chest gleamed in the light and she felt desire begin to burn hotly between her thighs, her eyes fastening for a moment on her sister’s bare breasts and the hard, tan nipples peaking each mound. Was it wrong that her sister’s flesh in turn aroused her as much as Sebastian’s? Quiet steps brought her to the cracked door where she, ashamedly, peeked in.

Her skin flushed hotly, tingeing pink with embarrassment and desire; how could it not, when she watched Sebastian nearly tear Hawke’s skirt from her body and toss her on the bed. His hands made quick work of her small clothes, fingers dipping between her thighs to stroke her, Hawke’s head falling back with a loud moan as her naked body trembled. She knew she should turn away and leave that instant – this was a private moment between husband and wife – but she didn’t want to. Eyes stayed locked on the display before her as Sebastian removed his own clothing – her gaze suddenly finding purchase on the length of his cock as it sprung free from its confines. Maker, but was he gifted – or blessed – something of the sort, but she could not seem to think coherently at the moment, her tongue wetting her suddenly dry lips.

He pushed her sister down, kissing her hard, and Bethany could see their tongues as they dueled hotly during the passionately embrace. His hands found hold of her thighs, pulling Hawke’s long, agile legs straight up against his chest as his hips shot forward; Hawke cried out, back arching, head thrown back as Sebastian’s sword sheathed itself within her to the hilt. Bethany bit back a moan, squirming. Maker, she had to get out of her now before she embarrassed herself by doing something daft – well, more daft; watching her sister being fucked had to be high up on the daft list.

Turning on her heel, she fled back to her room, where she proceeded to solve the little problem the scene had aroused in her.

------

In the afterglow of the moment, Hawke, while nuzzling Sebastian’s throat, mumbled something about wandering off to the kitchens to find them a drink and possibly a snack; sex with Sebastian was exhausting and perfect – the stories he’d told of his wild youth had not been exaggerated, that’s for sure(though she had been certain they were cautionary tales and stories to brag of). She slid on her robe, tied the sash, and leaned down to kiss his sensual lip before she left the room. Silent and quick steps would have carries her down the steps had a faint, and rather unusual, noise caught her attention; it sounded like a woman’s moan – the only other woman in the house was Bethany. She padded quietly to the door of the guest room and, tucking her dark curls behind an ear, she pressed it to the door and listened intently out of morbid curiosity.

They were most definitely moans of a sexual nature. Breathy gasps, followed by low half broken moans, and tiny little mewls of pleasure. Was her sister with someone? Who could have gotten into the house without Hawke knowing? She listened still, waiting for some indication of who her sister’s partner was, but nothing came, just Bethany’s sighs and moans.

“Sebastian…” Well that certainly made her brows jump about a foot up her forehead into her hair. She knew for certain Sebastian was in her room, so that left only one other alternative – Bethany was fantasizing about her husband. She should be appalled. However, the rogue had always been the bit of devious sort until she had met Sebastian – sex, and some of its more unusual appeals, had never fazed her. Well, save for the really unusual appeals. Turning, she went back to her room with a deviant idea already weaving itself through her mind.

“That was quick,” Sebastian murmured, raising his arm from over his eyes where he had laid it to look at her.

“Bethany seems to have a crush on you, my love,” she commented off handedly as she leaned down to kiss his lips, her gold eyes glistening with a mischief he’d grown to love. Her hand stroked over his bare chest suggestively.

“Is that so?” He drawled, his accent making her wet all over again.

“Oh aye, she is in there, right now, touching herself thinking about you.” She all but purred the words and she could see the shock, as well as the arousal he was trying to hide; the erection now tenting his breeches belied his initial shock and betrayed how turned on he was by her admission.

“Is that so?” He repeated, though she could hear the ever so light break in his voice. He cleared his throat.

“Oh aye.” She drew her hand down to the waist band of his breeches, tracing the skin there teasingly, before she dipped it down to his front and completely held his completely covered cock in her hand. She squeezed appreciatively, loving the way his head fell back with a throaty moan. Her frame bent and she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his ear, breath fanning the shell as she spoke.

“Why don’t we go show her what she’s longing for? You’d be perfect to deflower her.”

He jerked, obviously surprised. “W-what?”

“Oh come now; you can’t tell me you’ve never had two sisters before,” she teased in her most seductive tone. “What with all the stories I’ve heard…are you saying no, my love? I’m certain she wouldn’t tell you no…You have always like her, haven’t you?”

He gave a strangled groan, his erection painfully hard against her hand. With a chuckle, she moved away, grasping his hand and drawing him up from the bed. They kissed heatedly, stroking a fire that never died, before they left the room and headed for Bethany’s. It had only been minutes and Hawke was satisfied to hear the breathy little moans still coming from behind the shut door. She set a finger over her lips, signaling him to be quiet, as she stealthily opened the door and peeked in.

Bethany had her back to them, she was pleased to see. Her body was covered in a thin slip, the skirt bunched at her hips; it was clear she had a hand between her legs, stroking and caressing herself to the whisper of Sebastian’s name falling from her lips. “Go to her,” Hawke whispered so lightly into his ear, he wasn’t sure he heard her until she tilted her head toward her sister.

He swallowed thickly and nodded. He slipped quietly onto the bed and behind Bethany, his hands grasping her shoulders and turning her so she laid flat on her back; she nearly squealed, shock evident in her wide eyes, her face flushing a scarlet red. He smirked, dipping his head down to kiss her. At first it was soft and then hard, his tongue taking advantage of the surprised part of her lips and sliding in to invade her passionately.

After giving in for a sheer moment of human weakness, Bethany ripped her lips away and pressed her hands to Sebastian’s muscled chest. Her own heaved as she tried to compose herself, though it nigh impossible with the way her heart was racing and her limbs were trembling. “Sebastian! W-What are you doing here? Why…I…my sister!”

“Her idea, lass.” He chuckled and tilted his head to the end of the bed where Hawke was standing, completely nude, watching them with her golden gaze.

“S-sister? What…” She blushed a deeper shade of red if that were even possible. Hawke had to stifle a feminine giggle at how cute her younger sister looked.

“Shh; I know you want this, Bethany. We know what you were doing,” Bethany groaned and turned her face away. “You want him…I know you do.” Hawke crawled up the bed and up to lay on the other side of her sister. She reached out, sliding a hand into Sebastian’s hair, pulling his head across the gap that was Bethany to kiss her husband with wild abandon. Bethany couldn’t help but watch the way their mouths fused, and the way that their tongue would dart out, stroke the other, and tease. She hated to admit it, with the fact that it was her sister and her husband, but watching them, it was so very arousing – and so very taboo. Something forbidden. As Sebastian had been to her all this time. It was always that way wasn’t it? The forbidden fruit was always the sweetest.

She gasped suddenly, a hand on her breast caressing, rolling her mound and fingers plucking at the cloth over her nipple which hardened in response. Sebastian continued to kiss his wife as he teased Bethany with his hand, while Hawke slid her hand up her sister’s pale, trembling leg. Bethany trembled and moaned low in her throat as Hawke’s fingers found her wet, burning center, tracing the lips there before daring to dip inside and stroke her. This was so wrong – in her mind she knew that, but she couldn’t help the way it made her feel.

“H-hawke…”

“Shh, it’s okay, just let yourself go. Sebastian will make feel so good…” Hawke whispered against her ear soothingly after breaking the intense kiss with her husband, her fingers still working her in sure, steady strokes. After a moment of teasing, she took her hand back and brushed aside Sebastian’s own to pluck the ties of Bethany’s night slip, sliding it down off her shoulders, arms, then down over her sharp, yet shapely hips. Tossed to the side, she had a moment to admire the Grey Warden’s pale flesh – she never understood why Bethany always felt over-shadowed by her, the young mage was as pretty as her, if not more so with that alabaster skin.

Hawke sat back and Sebastian moved, a strong hand hooking Bethany’s thigh to part her legs, so he could settle himself between them. He leaned down and kissed her, hands sliding up to caress her pale breasts. Fingers pinched at her nipples, tweaking, pulling, rolling them until they ached unmercifully, moans of pleasure following each action. Hawke licked her lips and ran her hands down Sebastian’s back, dragging her nails down his spine to make him shudder. Hands slipped around to untie his breeches, before working them down his hips and off his body – not an easy task at that angle, from behind, but one she managed.

Bethany gasped, her whole body shuddering as Sebastian took her hand and brought it to wrap around his impressive cock. Her fingers trembled, but he was satisfied to see her tongue wet her lips, amber eyes heating to a look all familiar to him, one Hawke gave him many times before. He moaned low as she tentatively began to explore his length with her fingers, then her whole hand, as his hands traced her flesh and caressed her breasts. Hawke kissed his neck and bit sharply with her teeth, making him shudder with appreciation. She always knew just what to do to get his blood flowing like fire in his veins.

“Take her,” Hawke whispered against his ear.

He growled, a sound she didn’t hear often enough – in her own opinion – and both and Bethany gave a tremble of appreciation. He took Bethany’s hand from him and placed the head of himself against her wet nether lips. With one sure thrust, he settled himself within her making the young mage arch and cry out, hands fisted in the bed sheets; he didn’t give her long to recover from his taking her virginity, pulling nearly free before returning, thrusting fast and hard, Bethany instinctually appreciating the fact that he worked to give her pleasure to help her move past the ache and pain that came with her first time. Hawke wet her lips as she moved slightly to sit beside Bethany, taking in the sight of Sebastian thrusting his cock, hips dipping low and deep; it made her wet, her own center tingling and throbbing at the remembrance of Sebastian being between her own thighs. She dipped her hand down, stroking herself, moaning as she flicked her clit, her other hand combing through Bethany’s hair soothingly as the young mage tossed her head back and nearly screamed at the pleasure she got from Sebastian fucking her. Hawke whispered words to soothe her sister before meeting eyes with Sebastian, her own lips curling up into a devious little smile. Hawke took her hands back, pressing them to Sebastian’s chest, pushing slightly to pull him free of her sister. Arching a brow, he leaned back with his legs bent at the knee and open, watching her curiously.

“I know this was your first time, Bethany. Come; let me show you how to make Sebastian feel good.” She helped her trembling sister sit up, drawing her closer to Sebastian’s seated frame. “Let me show you what he likes.” As Bethany watched, Hawke settled between Sebastian’s legs and kissed him hard, deeply, making them both moan; rogue sucking in her cheeks to create a tight suction on him as she began to bob her head on him while a hand stroked his base and sac. He moaned with his head dropping back, body shuddering with pleasure as Hawke – even being no mage – worked her magic on him.

After a moment of this, she pulled back and moved out of the way. “Now you, Bethany – do as I showed you.”

Bethany trembled, biting her lip, but nodded and took Hawke’s spot between the Prince’s legs. She cupped his face and kissed him, shyly, before with more nerve. Then she did as her sister had, dipping down his lean, toned body to find his cock with her mouth. It was hesitant, unsure exploration at first, lips and tongue clumsy, yet Sebastian found it highly erotic. His sapphire gaze found Hawke’s golden one and she smiled coyly, licking her lips. He shuddered – the minx he had married reminded him of the way he’d been in his youth; in a way, they were perfect for each other.

Bethany gasped, lifting her head, sucking in a deep breathe. Sebastian slid his hand into her hair, tight, bringing her back to his cock – he thrust his hips ever so slightly, bobbing her head on his cock much as Hawke’s had done shortly before, his gaze intent on his wife. His head fell back and he groaned loud. His hand in her hair pulled her free and up, giving him a moment to calm down, not quite willing to spill his seed just yet.

“Very good,” he drawled, Bethany blushing hotly. “A quick study – much like your sister.”

“I…thank you…” Bethany mumbled, trying her best not to let her embarrassment show.

Hawke chuckled and took Bethany’s hand, turning her and pressing them to the bed. “Now, up on your knees.” Bethany did as she said, her body trembling as she all but presented herself to Sebastian’s gaze. He devoured her, moving up onto his knees behind her, his hands finding purchase on her hips. He rubbed the head of his cock against her sopping lips – subtly stained in red to provide proof of her innocence – and teased her until she pressed back against him, nearly pleading for him to fill her. With a dip of his hips, he thrust himself inside her, the mage crying out as he threw his head back with a groan.

Hawke again watched as Sebastian slid out and back in, first as a soft, slow pace, before picking it up and meeting harder, faster, the flesh of his thighs and pelvis smacking against Bethany’s buttocks, tingeing her skin a faint, yet enticing red. She couldn’t help but watch – it was almost like watching herself at Sebastian’s mercy; besides the tint difference in their skin, the Hawke sisters had always looked alike. Her tongue slid across her lips as she watched, so incredibly turned on by the sight. It was erotic to gaze upon the perfect specimen of a man that her husband was, the way his body glistened with perspiration, muscles bunching and releasing as he thrust his cock in and out of Bethany, his head tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted, breathes erratic – she would keep this image forever, she knew.

Bethany cried out suddenly, her back bowing as her body shuddered, her cunt flooding Sebastian’s cock with her hot release. He let her fall to the bed, pulling free from her and moving to Hawke, kissing her hotly, so incredibly aroused and ready to explode. Bethany watched with hazy eyes, her body tingling endlessly, as Sebastian turned Hawke onto her hands and knees. He moved up behind her, grunting with a groan as he sheathed himself in her familiar, hot center; his hands found her breasts, pulling her up and back against him as they moved together in unison, hips grinding and swaying. His thrust were hard and fast, Hawke panting and moaning loud as he fucked her, hands tweaking her breasts, lips and teeth teasing her neck and ear. Bethany couldn’t tear her eyes away, she was enraptured by the sight – as wrong and taboo as it should have been. Her body trembled, the orgasm rocking her body nearly all over again as Sebastian pushed her older sister to an intense release, his own following swiftly after with a hoarse yell that was her name.

They fell to the bed beside her and she blushed, tucking her face into the bed; now that the haze of pleasure was wearing thin, the reality of what had just happened was settling over her, almost guiltily.

Hawke chuckled, pulling Bethany into her arms, with Sebastian holding her from behind. They remained embraced that way, Bethany slowly easing and finding comfort in being with the two of them; as wrong as it was, it felt right, to be here like this.

“You should come home more often,” Hawke teased, kissing her sister’s cheek.

Bethany choked on an embarrassed laugh and turned a heated red; Maker, what a visit home this had been.

Notes: Each chapter is a one-shot only, based off original and gathered prompts, that all, in some way or another, involve Sebastian – breaking his vows, more often than not. I do so love to torture him. NSFW!

Warnings: Heavy smut, 16+ at all times, drugging/spells, blackmail, threesomes, slight bondage, etc. This one is a foursome, also includes M/M, F/F, and M/F.

Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't sell it, just obsess over it!

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Torturing a Prince

Pairing: Sebastian/F!Mage!Hawke/Anders/Isabela.

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It came as no surprise that, after years of fighting their feelings for each other, Anders and Hawke finally took a step forward in their relationship; shortly after the attempted Qunari takeover, it came as general knowledge that the apostate Champion had taken her apostate lover into her Hightown home. And they seemed happy – what they, and all others, failed to realize was how utterly deviant the two were in the privacy of the bedroom(and outside of it). If Isabela had only known sooner, well, she would have decided to play voyeur long before she had – as it was, it was only by chance that she had learned of their plans, happening upon the mansion in what could only have been called fortuitous timing.

She’d hummed as she sauntered up the steps and made her way to Hawke’s bedroom. A knowing smile had graced her lips as she heard Hawke’s lovely voice moan the mage’s name; Isabela had no shame and she eagerly pressed her ear to the door to listen.

“Do that again!” Hawke moaned and Isabela was certain she heard the sizzle of magic; ooooh, a smirk tugged at her lips – so he still did that electricity trick, did he?

“Such a naughty mage you are, Hawke.” Anders chuckled and she heard the distinct sound of a hand meeting flesh.

“You have no idea how naughty I am,” Hawke all but purred and Isabela could feel an answering heat building in her core. Perhaps she should surprise them, then maybe they would invite her to join their fun.

“I am more than willing to find out.” The talking stopped for a moment and she heard him grunt, while Hawke cried out; if she had any shame or morals, Isabela might have blushed, but the image of the blonde mage thrusting his cock between Hawke’s lusciously pale thighs only served to turn her on.

“I have proposition for you then, my love.” Hawke gasped the words amongst her moans. Anders must have nodded, or given her a look(one Isabela could just picture), to encourage her to divulge further. Oh yes, please do. “I think Sebastian tries just a little too hard,” another moan, “and that, deep down, he’s still that wild, dirty prince he used to be.” Oh did Isabela like where this was going. “I want to see how much we can taint our… brother of the chantry.”

“It is a shame,” Anders chuckled and they were both panting harshly, Isabela hearing the distinctive sound of flesh hitting flesh as he increased his pace. Hawke cried out – from what Isabela wasn’t sure – but she could easily fill in the gaps with her imagination. And she was, no doubt about that. “How shall we lure him here?”

“Leave that to me,” Hawke’s words trembled and they both cried out this time, the sounds of flesh dimming away as they reached their perspective orgasms and stilled, no doubt a mess of limbs amongst Hawke’s fine sheets. “I will expect you to be waiting tonight. In the study – I think the bedroom will make him too suspicious.”

Oh, well, Isabela smiled slowly and licked her lips; Anders wouldn’t be the only one waiting.

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“I fail to see why we couldn’t have discussed this in the Chantry.” Sebastian seated himself on the sofa in her study, placing his hands on his knees, his sapphire gaze watching Hawke curiously as she followed him in. She shut the door and placed herself beside him on the sofa, offering him a reassuring smile.

“I’m an apostate, Sebastian. I feel it is tempting fate to be discussing the mage agenda with you inside of the walls of the Chantry – where, more often than not, there is a Templar around.”

“You do make a valid point,” He sighed softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Talks of the mages rebellion in Kirkwall always put him at unease; he liked to think of himself as her friend, but he often did not approve of things she did for her fellow mages.

“My status as Champion of Kirkwall will only protect me for so long,” she admitted with a feigned sigh. “Carver being a Templar himself no doubt helps, but I fear in the end I will be thrown into the Gallows and forgotten – or worse, I’ll be made Tranquil. The Knight-Commander is not so fond of me.” She gave him a sheepish smile.

“Can you not begin to comprehend as to why, Hawke? I…have not always approved of your decisions, and I am your friend.” He set his hand on hers and squeezed it gently. “I would not like to see you come to harm though, lass. What is it I can assist you with?”

“You will know in good time, Sebastian.” She smiled as her magic thrummed within her warmly, gathering for a spell; using the bridge of his hand on hers, she sent it from her into him and coaxed it expertly into a hex of sleep. His lashes fluttered, brows pulling together tightly in confusion, before he slumped backwards onto the sofa unconscious. Hawke spent a moment looking down into his princely features, before glancing up as Anders wandered down the stairs. “Gather him up, my love, and bring him upstairs.”

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Isabela watched with eager eyes as Blondie hefted the fit prince onto his shoulder and left the study, Hawke on his heels as they moved their little gathering up into their bedroom. She shuddered and licked her lips, using her stealth to follow them up, though keeping a discreet distance. When they slipped into the room, she went to the window and slipped out, using the ledge to hop over to the balcony that led to Hawke’s room. She made sure to keep to the shadows, eyes eagerly eating up the scene before her.

Hawke drew the chair back from her desk and set it at the end of the bed, Anders setting the slumbering prince on it and holding him there as Hawke gathered golden cords of rope from her wardrobe. Isabela couldn’t help the shudder than went through her as Hawke and Anders took the cord and tied Sebastian to the chair, his torso to the back and each shin to a wooden leg. She wished she could be in his position, her body tingling all over as she watched him stir.

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Sebastian fought the drowsiness as it washed over him, a groan slipping from his lips as his eyes slowly opened to find Hawke standing before him, Anders just behind her; wait, that wasn’t right. He could have sworn to the Maker that only moments before he had been in the study with her. A glance around assured him they were no longer there, but instead in her bedroom. He moved to get up but realized he couldn’t, eyes dropping down to see that he was bound; instantly his eyes turned cold and he turned his stormy expression back into Hawke who merely smiled.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked his accent thickening as he tried to push back the anger that was brewing inside of him. How could he trust her after this? She had never done anything to make him think that she would turn on him like she was now.

Hawke’s lips pulled up into what he could only call a sultry smile, her body leaning forward as she braced her hands on his thighs, squeezing them. He had to bite the inside of his cheek as she set her lips against the shell of his ear, every word a torment as her breath tickled his flesh. “Oh, Sebastian – I just want to test your resolve.” Her tongue swept out and licked at his lobe. He barely repressed a shudder, his mind frantically chanting a prayer to Andraste to resist her. “I do believe that wild Sebastian is in there somewhere and that he is just dying to play.”

“Please Hawke; think about what you are doing.” He gasped the words, eyes meeting Anders where he leaned against the bed post, his arms folded across his chest. “Anders, please, surely you must see that this is wrong.” Sebastian swallowed thickly. Vaguely he wondered if somehow demons were here to tempt him, but he was no mage – this was reality and Andraste forgive him, but his body wanted to react whilst he did not. He wanted to believe that Hawke took his vows seriously, that he wanted to be dedicated in the Chantry, and not use his attraction to her against him.

She was correct, however, to think that this would appeal to the part of him that he was desperate to leave behind. Already his body roused to her words.

Hawke chuckled, lifting her head only so far so that her lips trailed over his jaw, before resting just shy of his. “I have thought about what I’m doing,” she whispered against his lips, her normally cool gaze hot and filled with desire. “In fact, I have thought of it more than you could imagine.” She smirked and drew back. “Mmm, my love,” she turned her back to Sebastian and to his surprise seated herself in his lap, though her arms were outstretched toward Anders. The mage came toward her, kneeling between her – no, their – legs. Sebastian watched as she leaned her head down, sliding her fingers into Anders’ blonde hair, their lips coming together heatedly. He shuddered, heard Hawke chuckle, before she lifted her head. “You’ll enjoy yourself, have no doubt of that.”

“Please, Hawke…” He groaned as her hands plucked the clasps of her robes open, pulling it down off her shoulders to reveal her alabaster neck, shoulders, and back, letting the robes spill to her waist. He bit his lip as he watched Anders kiss her neck, his eyes meeting Sebastian’s – then he gave the prince a knowing smile, reaching to trail his calloused fingers across Sebastian’s cheek. Stubbornly, he jerked his head away from the mage’s touch. Anders chuckled and let his hand slid over Hawke’s shoulder, before both found her breasts and rolled them, palms brushing over her hardened nipples; Hawke moaned softly, leaning back against Sebastian and tipping her head to lie against his shoulder. Anders followed, his kisses trailing over her collar bone, before finding the swell of her breasts; Sebastian subconsciously wet his lips, his chest heaving against Hawke’s back, his breath falling harshly against her cheek before he turned his face away.

As much as he tried to fight it, his body refused to cooperate as his cock swelled, hitting the buckle of his belt. It was becoming harder and harder to think of his vows, with Hawke on his lap being pleasure by her mage lover. Unable to help himself, he turned his gaze back to find that Anders had slid her robes open and was trailing his lips over her flat stomach. He tickled her hips with fingertips imbued with magic, making Hawke moan and shiver, but his mouth remained on the move. His hands found her thighs and he lifted them to his shoulders, his head dipping between her legs – Sebastian watched, almost enraptured, as Anders swept his tongue over Hawke’s center. The mage’s nose brushed her nub and she arched, hands grasping at Sebastian’s thighs as Anders went to work pleasuring his lover with his tongue.

Hawke’s moans and cries were torture. She wriggled on his lap, fingers tight on his legs as Anders kept at it. Her head thrashed on his shoulder, falling toward him, her lips against his ear as she enjoyed herself at the hands – or mouth rather – of her mage. He shut his eyes tightly. Andraste please give me strength to resist that which tempts from your path. Over and over he repeated it, like a mantra. It did little to no good because when Hawke’s back bowed and he heard her whimpering cry of his name as she climaxed, he knew he was lost.

Anders dropped her legs, kissing each trembling thigh lovingly, up and over her stomach before he found her lips. He slid his hand into Sebastian’s hair, holding tight, even as he kissed Hawke; he couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips when the prince bit back a groan. Faint, but there. He lifted his head from his love, his heated amber eyes meeting that of the prince’s smoldering sapphire ones. He leaned in, just ever so slightly, teasingly drawing his tongue along the edge of Sebastian’s lower lip. “Are you ready to join us, Sebastian?” He chuckled against the man’s lips, Hawke’s flirty giggle following suit.

Sebastian groaned and his whole body shuddered beneath them.

“Aye,” he choked out the single word as Anders drew back.

Anders took Hawke’s hands, lifting her from Sebastian’s lap and pulling her against him. As the prince watched, Anders took Hawke’s mouth hungrily, though he kept his gaze locked with Sebastian’s. He slid his hands to Hawke’s round bottom and hefted her against his arousal, tongue dominating hers as they melded hotly together. Finally, he drew away, just slightly. “You think we can trust him not to flee?” Anders whispered into Hawke’s ear, just loud enough for Sebastian to hear.

Hawke turned herself, pressing her ass back against Anders so that her body was completely revealed to Sebastian’s gaze; he ate her up eagerly, eyes dark and filled with lust she thought she’d never see there. “Oh he won’t run,” she chuckled.

“Why don’t you give him a little…incentive, love?” Anders purred into her ear, making her shiver.

She nods and moved toward Sebastian, licking her lips as she kneels between his open legs. Her hands make quick work of his belt, letting it drop to the floor, Andraste forgotten in the wake of his forgotten vows; ironic and symbolic, he mused, though he could not focus on that for longer as her fingers started working on the buckles of his armor. Once just enough was out of her way, she smiled seductively up at him, making a show of licking her lips again as her digits found the ties of his breeches; already his cock was straining against the material and he nearly groaned with relief when she released it to the warm air of the room. She took him in her hand, giving an appreciative coo, almost as if she were impressed. He went to say something, but it was lost in a shuddering moan as she dipped her head and lapped her tongue over the head, pre cum licked up as eagerly as a cat did its milk.

Her lips parted, sliding over him so that he was enveloped by her hot mouth. Her tongue stroked his skin as he was taken further until he bumped the back of her throat. His head fell back and he found that Anders was watching, small pants escaping the mage’s lips as his lover began to move her slick mouth up and down on the prince. Sebastian found it highly erotic that the mage was watching and he pressed his hips up, making Hawke gag ever so slightly, before she recovered, fisting a hand on his cock as she worked her mouth like an expert. Maker, at this rate he wouldn’t last long.

He subdued almost instantly when he saw that blue flare in Anders’ outline, the mage turning toward the balcony windows. Hawke didn’t stop however, and he bit his lip as her lips and tongue caressed his shaft. Her tongue would dip into his slit each time she reached the end, before she took him in again. He tried to keep his gaze on Anders, curious as to what had drawn the mage to the windows.

Anders opened the window and he shook with a chuckle, reaching a hand out. A shocked gasp could be heard and then a tan hand took the mage’s with a feminine giggle. Isabela was drawn in and Sebastian nearly sputtered, eyes wide, to see that the rogue had her panties dangling in one hand.

“A voyeur now, Isabela?” Anders asked with a chuckle.

“Oh you know I just simply could not resist this,” she purred the words, indicating the spot where Sebastian sat with Hawke blowing his cock.

“Why don’t you join us? I don’t think Hawke will mind.” The offer shocked even Isabela but soon the sultry smile that crossed the Pirate’s features were answer enough; Sebastian shuddered. Andraste save them all, by the end of the night, he knew they would all need to spend days in prayer and confession.

“Oh goodie, don’t mind if I do.” Isabela wasted no time, dropping her panties as she went about disrobing herself.

Hawke, curious now, dragged her tongue up the length of Sebastian’s cock one last time before she lifted her head. Her liquid hot gaze turned to watch as every inch of Isabela’s deliciously tan flesh was bared for her to devour. “Oh, this night has just gotten so much more fun,” she chuckled, pressing her hands to Sebastian’s thighs and pushing herself to stand.

Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek and pulled against his restraints, catching Anders’ eye. “I think we should untie our guest – he seems eager to join us.” Anders teased, moving behind Sebastian’s chair to start undoing the golden ropes. He dipped his head, kissing the prince’s neck and licking up to his ear in which he proceeded to torment as the ties came undone. He almost expected the auburn-haired man to recoil from his touch as he had before, but this time he seemed intent to lean into it. The ties fell to the floor and he came around to kneel by Sebastian’s legs, working the shin binds as he ducked his head to teasingly run his tongue over the man’s cock. He gave a surprised gasp, but his hands soon buried themselves in the blonde man’s hair, almost pushing his cock insistently toward the mage.

“Would you look at that,” Isabela purred.

“Mmm,” Hawke walked up behind Anders, sitting herself on the edge of the bed. “Oh yes, love, by all means.”

Anders’ lip twitched and he finished untying the ropes, his lips then parting to slip over the prince’s cock. Blowing a man wasn’t new to him, as he had confided in Hawke – he’d been with Karl, and even men before him. He grasped Sebastian’s thighs and took the man’s cock deep into his mouth, even the back of his throat expertly, making the prince give a guttural moan of torture. Lips, tongue, teeth; they danced a dance familiar and were implemented in a way that nearly had Sebastian delirious with pleasure. Finally, he yanked himself away, standing up and away; he wasn’t about to let the man finish so soon, when they all had so much more left to do.

Sebastian shuddered but finally stood from the chair, kicking it back and out of his way. The pieces of his armor were taken off in what had to be record time, hitting the floor with loud thumps until he stood before them in nothing more than his boots and open breeches. Isabela moaned at the sight of his lean, yet muscular, frame, Hawke’s eyes running over him appreciatively before settling on his cock that stood out from him, rock hard and throbbing.
Hawke swept her hand out to the expanse of bed behind her.

“Anders, I want you to fuck Isabela.” She licked her lips and glanced back at Sebastian. “And you, I want you to fuck Anders – and I want to watch.” Her eyes met Anders’ and he nodded, a shudder wracking his body at her words – she always knew what would drive him crazy and, while Isabela wouldn’t be his first choice, the pirate certainly did have a body to flaunt.

Sebastian’s throat worked as Isabela eagerly did as Hawke bid, laying back on the bed completely nude. All eyes were on Anders as he began undoing to buckles to his coat, sliding it off before then working his boots, and then finally his shirt and breeches and smalls. Hawke made an appreciative sound as his body was displayed, her hand stroking over his abdomen before going to give his protruding cock a loving stroke. The mage leaned down and kissed her heatedly, before pulling back and doing as she wanted. He crawled over Isabela’s tan body, his hands trailing over her more than ample bosom, fingers pinching her nipples roughly. Their pirate captain moaned lewdly, dragging her nails over the pale expanse of Anders’ back as he pressed the head of his cock against her very welcoming hole. Her hips pressed against his and with a growl, he thrust himself in her; she wasn’t nearly as tight as Hawke, but he was still a man, and her hot walls around his cock made him shudder.

Hawke’s eyes watched intently as Anders set a pace she knew all too well, his flesh smacking against Isabela’s as their hips clashed together roughly again and again. She heard Sebastian make a sound and slid her hooded gaze to the prince who now had his hand on his cock, stroking himself as he watched the mage fuck the pirate. Smiling, Hawke rose from the bed and moved toward him. His sapphire gaze jumped to her as she pressed herself against him, arms wrapping around his neck and drawing his head down so that their lips crashed together. Her tongue delved into his mouth and he moaned, both hands sliding down her slim back to find purchase on her heart-shaped bottom, lifting her against him. His hips rolled against her, his cock pressed against her belly and she made a noise of pleasure against his lips before she drew away.

“Finish undressing, Sebastian,” she purred, “and go fuck my mage. It will please me to watch.”

“Hawke,” he moaned her name and did as she said, leaning down to yank off his boots before shimmying out of his breeches until he stood bare before her. He swept her against him, kissing her roughly, which she obviously appreciated. Drawing back, he swallowed and moved around her, kneeling onto the bed; was it wrong that it aroused him so intensely to know she would be watching and enjoying herself?

Perhaps. But he wouldn’t dwell on that now. He moved up behind Anders and drew his hands down the mage’s back who shuddered in response. Sebastian licked his lips as he slid his hand down, caressing Anders’ sac as the mage thrust in and out of Isabela who writhed like a wanton whore beneath him. Anders moaned, a sound the prince found made his cock tighten with pleasure.
Sebastian brought a hand to his mouth, his tongue laving saliva on his digits before he lowered it to slip between Anders’ pert buttocks. His finger found the puckered skin and slid inside, Anders’ ass tightening at the sudden intrusion though he moaned loud.

Encouraged, Sebastian added a second finger and stretched them, pumping them even as Anders continued to fuck Isabela. His free hand found Anders’ hip and held him still much to Isabela’s disappointed moan, as his fingers prepared the mage for what came next.

He pulled his fingers free and grasped his cock, moving up behind Anders to press the head against his hole. Anders shuddered and pressed back against him, giving Sebastian all the encouragement he needed to thrust his hips forward and sink himself into the mage. Isabela and Anders both cried out, the prince’s thrust having shoved Anders’ cock deeper into her. All three of them shuddered and began to move as a cohesive unit bent on the sole purpose of deviant desire.

Hawke licked her lips as she watched Sebastian fuck Anders as Anders fucked Isabela; she would burn for it, but right now she didn’t care. It was the most erotic sight she had ever beheld, especially Sebastian thrusting himself in and out of her mage. Her long legs carried her to the side of the bed where she crawled to lie beside them. Sebastian’s eyes found her and she smiled, drawing her hand across her flesh to settle it between her thighs; he licked his lips, biting at the lower one, as she slid her own fingers inside of her and began to match their rhythm.

Pants and moans filled the room, as they all worked to reach that moment when everything exploded in a white starburst of intense pleasure. Anders’ hand found Hawke’s breasts and caressed it, electricity flowing from his fingertips to taunt her; she shuddered, thumb rubbing over her nub as they continued. Sebastian’s hands tightened on Anders’ hips, his thrusts becoming hard and desperate, in turn making Anders’ thrust harder much to Isabela’s delight. Hawke propped up slightly and continued with herself even as she leaned her head down to lock lips with the pirate; Isabela’s tongue was more than eager to duel with her, stroking over hers’ before taking complete control of the kiss.

It wasn’t long before Isabela hit her limit, crying out into Hawke’s mouth as she came hard on Anders’ cock. The chain was started and, between feeling her cunt clamp down on his cock and Sebastian buried in his ass, thrusting, Anders couldn’t hold back his release and he nearly yelled as he spent himself. Growling low, Sebastian leaned over to bite down on Anders’ shoulder as he thrust harder and harder, before he straightened, tossed his head back, and, with a shudder, spilled himself within the mage. The sight proved too much for Hawke and her own caresses to her cunt soon were too much and she fell back on the bed, all eyes on her, as she brought herself to her own mind shattering orgasm.

Disengaging themselves respectively, they all fell to the bed in a mass of sweaty, trembling limbs.

“Mmmm, this turned out to be much more fun than I’d thought,” Hawke chuckled. “Definitely going to need to do it again sometime.” Anders grunted, pulling Hawke into his arms and nuzzling her throat.

“Only if I get to fuck Sebby next time,” Isabela commented, half sprawled on the prince at the moment.

“Oh no, I have claim to that already.”

“I would think I get some say in this,” Sebastian drawled, an arm tossed over his eyes.

“You would think,” Anders mumbled with a chuckle.

[Anyone is welcome to leave notes - just no flaming, or trolling, ok? >:/]

Notes: Each chapter is a one-shot only, based off original and gathered prompts, that all, in some way or another, involve Sebastian – breaking his vows, more often than not. I do so love to torture him. NSFW!

Warnings: Heavy smut, 16+ at all times, drugging/spells, blackmail, threesomes, slight bondage, etc. This one contains a very dominant Sebastian, might even be just ever so slightly non-con in the beginning.

Original Idea/Prompt: Sebastian snaps.

Disclaimer: Bioware
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Torturing a Prince

Very Dom!Sebastian/F!Warrior!Hawke
------

Sebastian was restless; his body was covered in a layer of perspiration, his chest rising and falling in time with the rapid beat of his heart, his body writhing and tangling itself amongst his meager sheets. He was no mage, but each night he was tormented with his desire for one woman, and he could have sworn to the Maker that a demon had come to break him, break his will, and make a deal with him to give him what it was that he desired.

Each morning he woke, shooting up in the bed, his hand so tightly clenched in his damp sheets his knuckles were stark white. He then cursed when he felt the wet cling of his loose trousers to his groin.

Maker, he wasn't going to be able to hold out forever.

------

He felt like he was losing his mind; during the days he would see her, unable to keep his thoughts of her pure as they went about business as usual, and during the nights the demons tempted him with dirty dreams of her. Each night he would see himself; hips thrusting hard as he gripped her hips with bruising force, cock burying itself over and over between her luscious thighs and deep within the heat that was her cunt; his teeth buried in the skin of her shoulder as he held her down, growls loud in the silence of the room, the slap of his skin against her pert ass just as deafening, but not nearly as deafening as the roar of his heart in his ears. Or the sound of her pleasure screams, moans, breathless whimpers; Maker, he could live on those sounds alone.

It was getting so bad that the simple sound of her voice – it didn't matter what she was saying – made his cock rock hard; his belt buckle of Andraste's face was almost a mockery at this point. Vows of chastity? The Maker certainly had a sense of humor – his clash of faith was cemented with temptation embodied. Perhaps this was a test. If that were the case, he was no doubt failing. And drastically so.

He knew he hit the point of no return when he came by her manor home one evening. This was no doubt Isabela's idea, otherwise he couldn't see Hawke dressing herself this way. She was a warrior before she was a woman, often putting practicality before all else when it came to her clothes. Whose idea it was didn't matter, his cock stirred and hardened painfully in his breeches regardless. She stood before a mirror, tilting her head as she looked conscientiously at her reflection; the tight corset laced tightly around her abdomen, white blouse cinched at her shoulders to give a more than generous view of her heaving, tan breasts, the skirt falling over her curvy hips to hug her supple rear and hang just under her knees. He licked his lips like a hungry wolf who'd found his dinner; he certainly felt as if he might consume her.

The dreams were there, taunting him as they danced ever so teasingly on the edge of his thoughts. All he could seem to muster up was the image of tossing her over the edge of her bed, flinging up her skirt, and fucking her with abandon while they watched themselves screw in the mirror. His whole body shuddered and he found himself gritting his teeth, hands fisted, as he strained to keep himself in check. Maker, he didn't want to. His mouth watered at the mere thought of what she would taste like.

Before he realized it, he was striding into her room with purposeful steps; he was going to have her, even if he burned for it.

------

Hawke studied herself – her tall, slightly muscular frame, in the outfit Isabela had given her to seduce the ever illusive Sebastian Vael. She didn't look...unappealing. In fact, with the way her hair looked, all curled and spilling around her bare shoulders in copper waves, she looked almost...pretty. She stuck her tongue out at herself, green eyes glinting with amusement; it was a fleeting thought, at best. She knew she wouldn't be able to muster the courage needed to seduce Sebastian, but she would thank her pirate wench best friend regardless.

She sighed. To think she could kill a high dragon, but when it came to seducing one man, she was a complete coward. Maker, some warrior she was.

The sounds of booted feet entering her room had her snapping around like a coiled spring snapped free. Her wide eyes widened even further when she saw it was Sebastian striding toward her; his expression almost frightened her. It was hungry – that was the only way she could explain it; jaw tight, lips pressed together thinly, brows tight, eyes glinting, and his nostrils flared with each breath. Maker, was he mad? Had seeing her this way disgusted him to the point where he'd become angered?

"Sebastian, what are you - " She didn't even get to finish her question as Sebastian reached her, shoving her against the mirror and pinning her there with strong hands. Then his lips crashed down hard over hers', bruising them, forcing them apart with his tongue so it could snake within her mouth and tangle with hers; what in the void was happening? She should be appalled, be shoving him away, but her knees melted like butter as desire pooled hotly between her thighs.

"You taste even better than I dreamt," Sebastian growled, his teeth nipping her lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood. His voice was low, deeper than she had ever heard it, and the sound of it was enough to make goose bumps pucker across her flesh.

"This is highly inappropriate, Sebastian," she muttered as she tried to gain her composure; she wasn't a strumpet, or a paid whore, he had no right to come barging into her room and treat her this way.

He scoffed, his eyes traveling the length of her body as he kept her pinned by shoulders against the glass of the mirror. "And what you are wearing is highly inappropriate, Hawke."

That made her bristle with anger; who did he think he was talking to? She was the Champion of Kirkwall. With all her warrior strength, she took him off guard and shoved him away from her; he wasn't expecting a retaliation and actually stumbled. Her eyes narrowed, glinting dangerously. Not that he kept his gaze there for long, she realized; his stunning eyes fell to her breasts, where the swells of flesh heaved with each harsh breath. She grit her teeth and raised her hand, bringing it across his face with a harsh slap.

It didn't seem to surprise him, or phase him for that matter. He narrowed his eyes with a soft growl, his cheek tinting red from the contact of her palm. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Hawke felt like cornered prey and she realized this situation was one action away from becoming volatile; she had to tread carefully.

"Sebastian...I think it's best if you left. You are not thinking clearly." She laid her hand on his arm, trying to keep it from trembling.

"I haven't thought clearly since the moment I first laid eyes on you," he growled as he took her hand, turning her around roughly and pressing her against the mirror. She tried to struggle against his hold, but it only made him growl louder as he twisted her arm up behind her, making her wince. His other hand shot out to grasp her other hand, twisting it behind her back; she couldn't see what he was tying them with, but she felt him tying her wrists together, almost tight enough to make her skin tingle from the loss of circulation.

"Sebastian! Stop this!" She snapped, more angry than scared now. Her leg shot back to try and kick him, but was of little use bare as it was against his armored leg.

He didn't seem to hear her, or he was purposely ignoring her. His hand came down sharply against the curve of her rear making her cry out from the sharp sting despite the cloth of her skirt. She tried to kick her leg back against his again, squirming, but he simply slapped his hand against her ass, but harder this time. She hissed, the sting more potent, sure her buttock would be burning red if he looked upon it.

"Sebastian!"

"Hush, my little Hawke – you'll feel pleasure like never before, this I can promise you." He murmured the words against the shell of her ear, making her shudder; how could she not? It wasn't as if she were immune to his charms. If she weren't so livid, she might even go so far as to admit that she liked this dominant, forceful personality of his. She had wanted this, hadn't she? She had gotten this very outfit to seduce this very man, so she couldn't, in good conscious, play the victim and cry wolf – she had been asking for it, to say otherwise would make her a liar. Or a tease. She wasn't sure which was worse.

He gripped her by the shoulder and turned her, shoving her back against the mirror for the third time, making her grit her teeth. They stared each other down and she found her resolve weakening beneath his lust-filled gaze; that lust, that desire, was all for her. She licked her lips and he watched, almost mesmerized. She watched as he swallowed thickly. To say that she didn't feel something would be the same as saying she wasn't a woman, or human.

"Sebastian. Go, please," she swallowed, tried one last desperate plea. She didn't know where she stood any longer, or where he stood for that matter; would he come to regret this in the aftermath, having forsaken his vows for a tumble with her? There were too many variables here, and it was better to avoid the situation all together.

"No."

"Sebastian - "

"I said no." His hand – the one not holding her against the mirror – slid up her front, over the swell of her breasts. Then higher and gripped her throat, not tight enough to cut off her air, but enough to say 'this is what I want and I will get it'. His message was clear in the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly, his eyes glinting dangerously as he both felt and watched her swallow nervously. He must have felt superior, having such a strong woman under his hand – Maker, why did that arouse her so?

Sebastian released her throat, took a hold of her and dragged her to the other side of the bed. She tried to pull herself free multiple times, only to receive sharp smacks on her ass each time. Eventually she just glared at him. He grinned, yanked her to him, and kissed her until her head was reeling; his tongue was an expert in dueling, coaxing a response out of her masterfully. Once she was butter in his hands, he turned her and shoved her so that she landed on her stomach on the edge of the bed with an 'oomph'.

"Sebastian!" Her face heated red with embarrassment – and yes, arousal – as he flipped up her skirt and ran his hands over her bare buttocks(she cursed herself vividly here for having not put on undergarments when trying on this outfit).

"No undergarments? You are so very naughty, aren't you, my little Hawke?" He chuckled. When she went to snap at him angrily, he brought his hand down against her ass cheek much harder than he had thus far. She cried out, the pain sharp and intense, her skin burning hotly as she whimpered against the bedspread. He did it again, in the same spot, almost making her eyes water, but this time she stubbornly bit her lip to keep herself quiet. He tsk'd her and did it again, harder, but on the opposite cheek, thank the Maker. She groaned, closing her eyes tightly; this had to be a dream, right? There was no way Sebastian was in here spanking her.

"Sebastian!" This time his name was a drawn out whimper.

She felt him shudder behind her. "Maker, yeeeees. Do that again," he hissed.

"Do what?" He smacked her ass again, hard, making her whimper his name. Then again, and she did it once more.

"Delicious," he panted. "Can't wait. Want to, but I can't." He squirmed behind her and she tried to wiggle her way away from him, but he stubbornly kept her half pinned with one arm as he went about doing whatever it was that he was doing behind her. She resigned herself to look forward and saw their reflection in the mirror; he was fumbling with his armor, gloriously bare chested now. She saw his hands going for his belt and she gasped, renewing her struggles; he stopped long enough to swat her ass hard enough to quell her fighting, turning her into shuddering, whimpering mass of limbs on the bed.

He wrenched his hand in her hair until her neck was craned back and she was looking at herself in the mirror again. "Watch," he growled, his other hand yanking down her blouse so that her large breasts spilled free into the cool air, her tan nipples pebbling into tight peaks. She moaned, biting her lip, finding the sight strangely arousing. He didn't stop moving, his free hand then caressing down her back, over her hip, before smacking her rear end again, this time his eyes watching in the mirror as her breasts jiggled from the action. "Maker, you're a goddess. Perfect, I can't wait any longer, I must have you, my little Hawke," he muttered the words like a crazy mantra, undoing the ties of his breeches and pulling free his impressively large cock.

She blushed red in the face, her body shuddering under him. He kept his hand wrenched in her hair even as rubbed the head of his cock against her wet lips; when had she gotten so wet, anyway? "So wet..." he breathed, his whole body shuddering. "Are you a virgin?"

"W-what?" she squeaked the word out in surprise, the question unexpected. "N-no..."

"Good," he groaned out hoarsely, thrusting his hips forward so that he sheathed himself within her in one slick, hard, penetrating motion. She cried out, her back arching and wrists straining against her bonds as her walls clenched down tightly on the intruder. He filled her so wonderfully, maker, he was hot, like velvet steel and it felt so good. His hips pulled back, then snapped forward again, his skin slapping against her already sore ass, making her whimper and moan at the same time. The pace he set was brutal, hard, fast, flesh against flesh, his cock spearing her deeply and hitting her g-spot every single time. He, too, watched in the mirror as he thrust himself in and out of her drenched core, his own voice loud in the silence of her room, mingling with her own strangled sounds. He released her hair and moved both his hands to grip hard on her hips, using the hold there to pull her back each time he shoved himself deep within her.

"Sebastian!" She screamed his name as he slammed impossibly hard within her.

"Again!" He growled, withdrawing just enough to tease her lips with his head, before thrusting back hard, his flesh smacking against hers with a pleasant burn. She obliged, whimpering his name and he rewarded her with another smooth thrust. One of his hands dipped down under her, finding her clit and massaging it masterfully as he kept his hard, brutal pace. Her head spun and watching this in the mirror was almost too much; again and again, over, and over, and then there it was, crashing over her like a tidal wave, making her scream out as her body was wracked with an intense release. He shouted her name, thrust hard a few last times, before she felt the hot splash of his seed deep within her. When it was all said and done, he collapsed atop her, his breathless pants falling against her ear as she lay there trying to compose herself.

"Sebastian..."

He shot up, withdrawing from her and hastily dressing himself, at least from the waist down so he wasn't indecent, as she sat herself up gingerly on the bed. His eyes were wide, almost panicked.

"Do you mind?" She titled her head in the direction of her back, indicating her somewhat sore wrists. If possible, his eyes widened further as he moved to do as she said, releasing her wrists from whatever he had used to bind them.

"Hawke, I - " he pulled back from her, then pressed his lips together tightly, unsure of what to say.

"Sebastian. I doubt it would surprise you to learn that I got this outfit from Isabela...to seduce you," she mumbled as she rubbed her wrists, getting the blood back into her tingling fingers.

"Hawke I am not sure I - "

"What I am saying is – don't apologize." He looked troubled, but nodded without argument.

"In fact, I quite like this side of you."

"But Hawke," he sat beside her on the bed. "You didn't...you were..."

"I didn't think you meant to do this...that you would regret this...what, with your vows and all," she blushed, and shrugged her shoulders. "And I would be remiss if I didn't say I was enjoying fighting back..."

This time he chuckled, turned her face, and brought their lips together in a gentle, lingering kiss. "I'll keep that in mind for next time," he breathed against her lips.

"Next time?"

"And the time after that, and the time after that."

Notes: Each chapter is a one-shot only, based off original and gathered prompts, that all, in some way or another, involve Sebastian – breaking his vows, more often than not. I do so love to torture him. NSFW!

Warnings: Heavy smut, 16+ at all times, drugging/spells, blackmail, threesomes, slight bondage, etc. This one is strictly Male/Male, if that is not your thing, I suggest skipping this chapter. I would love it if you did read, as this is my first attempt at M/M.

Disclaimer: Bioware
---

Torturing a Prince

Dom!Sebastian/Sub!Fenris
---

Sebastian Vael, Prince of Starkhaven, true ruler of the land, handsome, charismatic, and never in short supply of young maidens eager to be his princess; finally in his rightful place, one would think the Prince would want for nothing, but nothing could have been further from the truth. There was something he wanted, or rather, someone. If it were one of the maidens so eager to be at his side, perhaps he wouldn't feel so torn, between duty and desire, after all he had responsibilities now, like heirs.

Watching his best friend in the training yard, chest gloriously bare in the early morning light, skin coated in a sheen of perspiration, muscles working as he swung his blade with both hands, it was hard to recall his duties, his responsibilities. He may have convinced Fenris to return to Starkhaven with him after what became of Kirkwall, but he feared what his friend would think of him if he learned of his desire for him, a desire he'd had since their first meeting that had only grown until he desired nothing else. Maker, Sebastian feared how the elf would react if he knew of his little obsession of watching him each morning from the balcony of his chambers, much less how he would take his attraction to him.

If Kirkwall had taught him one thing, it was to live every day to the fullest because you never knew when it would be over; Hawke's despair was evident when he'd been betrayed by Anders, who had doomed them all in his destruction of the Chantry. It was only a moment, but a moment was all it took for everything to fall apart. He and Fenris had been unable to stand with Hawke as he took side with Anders, to save the mages from Meredith; it wasn't so much saving the mages that had done it for them, but rather the sparing of Anders' life. They both believed he'd known exactly what he was doing, had used Hawke's feelings to his advantage, and they wanted nothing to do with him – leaving Hawke had been painful for the both of them (despite Sebastian's rather emotional promise of retribution).

He felt for Hawke now, on the run with his fugitive lover, but at the same time, he couldn't help but feel blessed with the way things had turned out; Fenris was here, with him. Perhaps not in the way he truly wanted, but...it was a start.

"Enjoying the show?" The voice made him jolt and his eyes jumped down to where the glistening elf stood in the field below; arms crossed, brow raised, and lips tilted in a amused smirk.

"Fenris! I..." Sebastian could feel his face heating in embarrassment; to think he'd been caught in the act of admiring his elven friend.

"Caught you," Fenris chuckled.

The fact that he didn't seem at all bothered by it made Sebastian's heart do a little bit of a flop in his chest. Not to mention made a certain part of his anatomy stand at attention. He cursed under his breath, thankful for the balcony shielding the sudden tenting of his breeches. Maker's breath, Fenris was beautiful, in no small part to the markings that eloquently decorated his flesh (markings he knew his friend hated, burned into his flesh by his former, now thankfully deceased, master).

"You're still staring," the elf remarked again a moment later, hiding a chuckle behind his hand.

"S-sorry, lost in my thoughts." Sebastian shrugged. "Shall we have breakfast then?"

"I will be right there."

Sebastian's brows rose. "Like that?" he indicated with his hand to his half dressed body.

"Worried about your reputation, Sebastian?"

"No! I - "

"Then I will be right up." Fenris gave him a cheeky grin and all the fight in Sebastian simply melted away; Maker, he hoped he could control his desire long enough to get through breakfast with Fenris sitting half dressed in his chambers.
----

It was getting increasingly difficult to pay attention to anything Fenris was saying. Rather his cerulean eyes were locked up the elf's lips as he ate a piece of fruit; his tongue as it swept out to catch an errant drop of juice; the way his throat worked as he swallowed. Was it just him, or had the temperature in the room doubled? He certainly felt hot, flushed even. Fenris, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease, so it must have been him...and the massive erection that he was hiding beneath the table.

This breakfast had to end soon, or he would end up making a fool of himself when he came onto his friend, only to push him away as he reacted with disgust; he probably would go so far as to leave Starkhaven. Who knows what his master really did to him – or that bitch Hadriana – when he'd been their slave. He didn't want to end up on the same level as them, never that.

"Sebastian? You're not listening are you?" Fenris cocked a brow, sucking another piece of fruit into his mouth that Sebastian had to admit – to himself – he envied. Envious of a piece of fruit.

"Hm?" He jerked his eyes back to the elf's mossy green, almost enticing, ones.

"The training regiment?"

"Ah...afraid I got distracted. Mind telling me again?" Sebastian played it off as best he could, waving a hand dismissively, but Fenris' eyes narrowed a slight as if judging his excuse.

Fenris started speaking again, but as before, Sebastian found himself distracted as he watched his friend pick up a sausage from the plate and suck it between his lips, teeth biting off the end of it before he chewed, pausing long enough in his talking to eat it. It was his lips wrapping around the link just before he bit down that had Sebastian squirming in his seat, his cock hard enough to almost be painful at this point.

They'd had breakfast before, but never had Fenris come to their meal only half dressed; perhaps that was what was making it so much harder to concentrate than normal. Fenris reached for another piece of cantaloupe, sucking on it before popping it into his mouth, juice leaking from his lips to roll down his chin and onto his chest. The elf was quick to swipe up the offending liquid with his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean. Sebastian was enthralled. He couldn't look away as Fenris' tongue swirled around his fingertips to lap up the juice.

When Fenris made the smallest noise of pleasure, Sebastian knew he was lost. There was no turning back now.

Sebastian's eyes watched as another piece of fruit was offered up to the elf's sinful mouth, juice escaping to dribble on his chin and chest; before he knew what he was doing, his chair was crashing to the floor and he was moving around the table, yanking Fenris up by his arm, head dipping down so that his tongue could snake out and lap up the trail of juice from Fenris' chest. Fenris had stiffened, his markings flaring up at the unexpected move, but he soon went limp in Sebastian's hold, much to the Prince's surprise.

His head lifted and his heated gaze met the elf's. They stared, for a long moment, at each other, but Sebastian was pleased to see Fenris' pupils were dilated, his own gaze heated. He was sure he had to be dreaming now. Fenris really couldn't be looking at him this way, could he?

The young lad in Sebastian – that had spent years in sinful abandon – rose up sharply within him, his old, dominant nature roaring to life. He growled, leaning down to nip at the edge of Fenris' bottom lip. "You were doing it on purpose, weren't you? You like teasing me in such a way, Fenris?"

Fenris gasped and his whole body gave a shudder that made Sebastian groan. "Tease you – what?"

"Don't play coy with me," Sebastian drawled, sliding a hand up from his friend's arm to wrench a hand in his snow white hair. Lips fell against Fenris' ear, his hot breath fanning it as he spoke, "you had to know what you were doing; sucking on that fruit and licking your fingertips in such way...you had to know I was imagining it dancing over my cock."

"Sebastian - "

He wrenched his hand tighter in Fenris' hair, nipping his ear lobe to cut him off; Fenris moaned, and Sebastian was instantly, and impossibly, hard for him. Maker, he'd only ever heard that noise in his dreams. The reality of it was much more sinfully arousing. "I'd be more than happy to oblige your fantasy if you wish, Fenris," he purred his name against his ear, enjoying the way Fenris nearly melted against him.

"Do you want me, Fenris?" Sebastian slid his free hand down the length of Fenris' torso, over the sleek, rippling muscles of his abdomen, before cupping the obvious bulge at the front of his tight black breeches; the fact that the elf was hard for him – for him – was enough to make his head spin. Sebastian chuckled, flicking the lobe of Fenris' ear with his tongue. "As if this isn't answer enough," he breathed hotly in answer to the groan that slid from the elf's mouth as he squeezed his sizable length appreciatively.

"Venhedis, Sebastian," he panted, his name a half growl, a half groan.

"Do I need to put that dirty mouth to use?" Sebastian chuckled, moving his lips along Fenris' jaw before finding his lips and kissing him soundly. Fenris' lips parted on a gasp and he took the initiative, sliding his tongue into the elf's mouth to tease and taunt his own. He felt euphoric when he coaxed Fenris into kissing him in return, the elf's tongue actually caressing his own. As he kissed him, the hand on Fenris' cock moved, to work on the ties of his breeches until the elf's cock sprung free as he pushed down the offending material. Fenris hissed into his mouth as his fingers wrapped around it and stroked it until the elf was a moaning mass of flesh in his arms; Sebastian raised his head, gazing down into Fenris' flushed face, and sent a prayer up with his wish that he would not wake now, alone, thighs coated in his own seed.

He couldn't wait any longer. He had waited for far too long already. Ever since he'd met the elf, he'd been suffering from a near constant case of blue balls that he'd spent hours, days, years, in confession asking forgiveness for. When he'd left the Chantry and returned to rule Starkhaven, he'd given up, but now, now, that he had Fenris, aroused and ready, in his arms, he couldn't go back to that; not now, not ever.

Sebastian's hands released Fenris and turned him. He swept out his arm to clear the table, not paying attention as everything left of their breakfast crashed to the floor, before he bent Fenris over it, his mouth finding his ear and playing with it as a hand snuck around to grasp the elf's cock again. Fenris moaned and placed his palms on the table to steady himself, his body shuddering as Sebastian's hand worked up and down the length of his cock, squeezing it, caressing it, until he feared he would spill his seed all over his hand.

"Sebastian – " he groaned the Prince's name.

"Hush, love," Sebastian nipped his earlobe making the elf nearly whimper. His left hand continued to caress and stroke Fenris' cock, but his right hand pushed down his breeches, so that his palm could lovingly caress the globes of pale flesh that was Fenris' surprisingly shapely buttocks. He brought his hand to his mouth, lubing his fingers up with saliva, before he brought them back to slide between the pert cheeks and seek out the puckered flesh between; he wanted to be gentle, at first teasing the ring, before working one finger inside to find tight, hot, searing, flesh, Fenris' growl and moan nearly making him cum right there in his own breeches.

When he was sure Fenris wasn't in pain, he added a second finger, slowly working it in to help the muscle become accustomed to being stretched. The elf's hips even seemed to press back against his hand and Sebastian stroked him, first in shallow thrusts, then slightly deeper to stroke that spot he knew would make him keen. Fenris moaned loud as Sebastian continued to torture him with readying him and stroking his cock to make sure he continued to feel pleasure throughout.

Sebastian's lips found Fenris' sensitive ear once more. "You want me, Fenris? You want me in you, filling you, part of you, changing you?" He groaned the words into his ear, enjoying the way Fenris nearly writhed beneath him as he was being worked by Sebastian's very skillful hands. "Tell me what you want, my dear Fenris..."

"Sebastian!" Fenris growled out his name, clearly getting frustrated by Sebastian's torturous play, his body craving, ready, for more. "I don't beg."

"Oh you don't have to beg," Sebastian assured, nipping the tip of his ear as his hands continued. "Just tell me. I want to hear it."

"Venhedis, Sebastian, fuck me!"

Sebastian's lips curled up into a smirk and he withdrew his fingers from Fenris' hole, opening his own breeches so that his own painfully hard cock could be released from its cloth prison. That in itself was nearly a relief, but he knew he wouldn't be satisfied, be complete, until he was buried within his friend whom he'd secretly desired and loved now for so many years. Please don't be a dream.

Fenris was ready, but Sebastian was still worried he may hurt his lithe friend, and there wasn't a lot around them to lube up his cock. He continued to stroke Fenris' cock as he brought his own hand to his mouth, working his tongue and saliva all over his digits and even his own palm, his cock bobbing in pleasure as he imagined Fenris' tongue earlier, the way he licked his fingers clean of that delicious fruit dew. He dropped his hand to his own cock and stroked himself with a moan, matching Fenris' as he panted where he was braced upon the table. Once he was sure it was enough, though barely, he pressed the head of his cock against that puckered star; he froze, his heart a thundering stampede in his ears, body trembling. This was it – now or never.

"Fenris," he kept himself there and leaned down to tease his elf's earlobe with his tongue. "Beg."

"What?" Fenris nearly jolted in outrage, despite the shudder that belied it. He growled and tried to push back against Sebastian's cock, but Sebastian moved his hand on Fenris' cock, faster, making him whimper a panting moan.

"Beg," he whispered hotly into his ear.

"Sebastian – "

Sebastian growled, pushing the head of his cock against Fenris' puckered flesh, pressing in, just a tiny bit so that the elf would growl in frustration. He tongued the lobe of his ear, nipping it harshly so that Fenris hissed. "Beg me, Fenris," he purred.

Fenris groaned and tried to push back against Sebastian's cock that was penetrating him ever so slightly. "Please, Sebastian," he growled, which made the prince chuckle slightly before he stroked Fenris' cock as he began to push the length of his own cock within Fenris' tight ass.

It was so hot, tight, making Sebastian nearly whimper with pleasure. He tossed his head back as his whole body shuddered, Fenris hissing and moaning as he pushed within him. After a long, terse, moment – which felt like an eternity – he was finally seated deep inside of him, wrapped in a tight, nearly maddening grip.

"Maker, Fenris!" He called out his name, pulling slowly from him, to push back just as slow. Fenris growled, his hands catching the edges of the table as Sebastian began a slow, but steady pace. It wasn't long before the both of them were panting, moaning, bodies of flesh moving against each other; to keep his on the edge, Sebastian continued to stoke Fenris' cock even as he slid in and out of his ass, stroking his prostrate, making the elf shudder and moan deliciously. Sebastian loved every noise he made and it only made him increase his pace, begin to start pounding him faster, then harder.

After a moment of indulgence, he stopped and pulled free from Fenris, turning to elf to sit on edge of the table, ripping the breeches the rest of the way down his strong legs. His hands gripped Fenris' thighs and pulled them around his hips, pressing his cock against Fenris' ass again, pushing much more easily in this time. They both tossed their heads back and moaned loudly, even as Sebastian's hand found Fenris' cock again; the pace started slow for only a moment this time before he was pounding his hips against his hard and fast, his stroking hand matching the pace as best it could. His eyes found Fenris' face, watched as they moved together, their flesh sweaty now and glistening in the light of the room; Fenris' looked back, his eyes glassy and heated, face flushed, lips parted as he moaned, markings lit ever so slightly – it had to be the most arousing sight Sebastian had ever seen...and Sebastian had seen a lot.

Sebastian kept moving, panting harshly now, free hand gripping Fenris' hip as he continued his brutal pace; he was close, he could feel it in the way his sac tightened, but he refused to give in until he made Fenris cum. He leaned his head down and kissed the elf hotly, his tongue darting into his mouth to stroke over and all his as they moaned each time Sebastian slid back into Fenris.

Fenris cried out, his body shuddering and marking flaring bright for but a moment as the elf's seed suddenly shot from his cock, coating Sebastian's hand and falling onto his own flat abdomen. Sebastian growled and brought the cum coated fingers to his mouth, licking them right in front Fenris' heated gaze, before he, too, moaned loud, and shuddered. With a growl, he thrust his hips a few, last, frantic time, his cock twitching within Fenris as he spilled himself there.

Then, with a heavy groan, he fell over his friend where he had collapsed back onto the table.

"Sebastian?"

"Hm?" He didn't bother getting up, but rested against the slim elf, his head nestled against his neck.

"You were right."

"About?"

"I was doing it on purpose."