Dorian rolls onto his side to face him, squinting in the mid-morning light. "You wanted to talk, last night. So talk." "Mm, not like this." Bull cracks his neck, stretches his free arm above his head. Dorian doesn't even pretend he's not watching the muscles shift in Bull's shoulder. "You don't talk about sex in bed."

The temporary fall and subsequent Maker be damned rise of Dorian Pavus.

The not so epic romance of Dorian Pavus of the illustrious House Pavus and Hissrad-- more commonly known as The Iron Bull-- of the Ben-Hassrath.

The Iron Bull watched Cullen from the beginning, but it took time for Cullen to let himself be seen. After all, he'd become so good at denying what he wanted that he never learned how to take what he needed. “Half the lasses and lads in Haven have spent weeks trying to figure out how to make you blush. I just happen to be better than them at finding and exploiting the cracks in people’s armor.” “That’s rather ironic, given how little of it you actually wear.” “Are you kidding? That’s one of my best strategies. When people think that they can see everything about you already, they don’t worry so much about protecting their own weak spots.”

You can find some interesting things in those old, abandoned thaigs... ******* As a general warning: it's all 100% consensual, but there isn't a whole lot of negotiation on specific acts ahead of time, and there are a few (quickly corrected) mis-steps. Nobody gets hurt, or even actually upset, but I know that's a sensitive issue for some.

Daylen Amell really wishes Alistair was easier to hate. Then maybe he could stop thinking about what he'd look like on his knees.