She’s Her Own Invention
@stickthisbig for @labarkour for picking up a pinch-hitter spot very graciously
Prompt: Literally all I want is some really good Rule 63! Adoribull.
NSFW
Dorian was completely uninterested in the Iron Bull.
She clearly enjoyed pressing Dorian’s buttons, almost as much as she enjoyed sleeping her way through Skyhold, male, female, and other, all of whom gave her rave reviews. And that ridiculous body of hers. Tall and broad and well-muscled, with breasts that were easily the size of Dorian’s head, large swaths of skin frequently exposed.
Why would that possibly be a thing Dorian wanted? The idea was absolutely absurd.
This is what Dorian was telling herself as she entered the tavern, looking for a little distraction after a long day of research. The place was loud, but not overly crowded; Varric and Trevelyan had a game of Wicked Grace going, while certain of the Chargers had instigated a sing-a-long. Surprisingly, Bull was on her own, having a drink and surveying the crowd, so Dorian made her way over. Why not? Dorian wasn’t interested. No harm in chatting with an acquaintance. Didn’t mean anything at all.
“I see your cohort is otherwise occupied,” Dorian said, sitting down across from Bull and moving someone’s discarded tankard out of the way.
“Waiting to have me all to yourself?” Bull said, waggling her eyebrow in what was apparently supposed to be a suggestive fashion; it lost some of the effect with only one.
“It is a bit quieter,” Dorian pointed out. “Perhaps I was merely waiting for a moment where we could talk without shouting.”
“What’s on your mind?” Bull asked, looking intrigued.
“I said ‘perhaps,’” Dorian said.
Bull laughed her usual hearty laugh. “You’re a squirrelly one. I like it!”
Dorian raised an eyebrow. “I honestly don’t know if that was a compliment or not.”
“Have a drink while you figure it out,” Bull advised, and Dorian took her up on the suggestion.
A drink turned into another drink. “Y'know, I’ve never asked you,” Bull said somewhere in the middle, setting her tankard on the table with a thud.
“Asked me what, pray tell?” Dorian said.
“You don’t seem the type to be named Dorian,” Bull said.
“Shouldn’t you be the Iron Cow?” Dorian said dryly.
Bull laughed. “Point taken.”
Dorian sighed; the story was bound to come out sooner or later. “When my mother became pregnant with me, my grandmother predicted her first grandchild would be male and named Dorian. My grandmother was very good at getting her own way, even in the face of adversity.”
“Never thought of changing it?” Bull offered.
“I believe it has stuck,” Dorian said. “It adds a hint of mystery, anyway.”
“I don’t think you’re very mysterious,” Bull said, leaning forward, and there was something about her smile that made Dorian’s toes want to curl.
“Shouldn’t I be?” she said, running a finger around the edge of her tankard. “I am an evil Vint, after all.”
“Vints aren’t mysterious,” Bull said. “I don’t get why they do what they do, but they’re predictable.”
Dorian put her hand to her chest, aping shock. “Now there is a deadly insult,” she said. “There can be nothing more déclassé than not being the master of one’s own reactions.”
“If it makes you feel any better, most people are predictable,” Bull said with a shrug. “Nobody genuinely wants to live in a world where you don’t know how other people will react.”
“The majority of Orlesian high society would beg to differ,” Dorian said, “but the Game is nothing if not completely tedious.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Bull said, raising her glass, not waiting for Dorian to respond in kind before drinking; Dorian took a sip anyway.
Dorian took a good number of sips, as it turned out, and Bull certainly matched her, if she didn’t overtake Dorian entirely. It didn’t take all that long before Dorian felt warm and cheerful; if she were being honest with herself, there was nothing onerous about Bull’s company on this particular evening, but she felt more good-natured than she was usually wont to.
“There’s one thing I can’t predict,” Bull said, around the time Dorian was feeling particularly friendly, putting her tankard down on the table and giving Dorian a sly look.
Dorian knew at that point that whatever Bull said next was going to be completely filthy, and she was surprised at how little she objected to that idea. “What’s that?”
Bull leaned in, close enough that her lips nearly brushed Dorian’s ear. “What it’s going to sound like when I put your legs over my shoulders and eat you out until you scream.”
Dorian tried her best to hide the flash of heat that went through her. “You’ve just answered your own question,” she said lightly. “A scream.”
“A scream is a very individual thing,” Bull said, with a smile that said she knew she had Dorian’s number. “I want to hear yours.”
Dorian was just sober enough to know it was probably a bad idea to pursue this any further, but just drunk enough to know that she wasn’t going to turn it down. “Alright, the Iron Bull,” she said, emphasising each word of Bull’s name. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“With pleasure,” Bull said, standing up and offering Dorian a hand.
Dorian thought Bull might have saluted the Chargers behind Dorian’s back as they ascended the stairs, but all Dorian’s attention was focused on getting alone and naked with Bull. She started on the latter almost as soon as the door shut behind them. There was almost nothing to the approximation of a shirt Bull wore, just two bindings crossed over her chest; happily, it meant it was ever so easy for Dorian to push it out of the way and get her hands on Bull’s truly magnificent breasts. Bull growled approvingly as Dorian’s fingers found her nipple, pinching it lightly.
Bull leaned down, kissing Dorian thoroughly, her hands already occupied with undoing her own belt, her pants falling to the floor around Bull’s feet. Bull pulled away, looking down at Dorian. “You have to get your own clothes,” Bull told her. “I don’t even know where to start with those buckles.”
“Make it good and you just might learn,” Dorian said, reaching for the fastenings of her top.
Bull laughed, loud and pleased, unfastening her pauldron so she could pull her bindings over her head. “I like you.”
“That’s rather convenient, given the situation,” Dorian said; it took a few moments, but her clothing finally hit the floor, kicked away with unusual abandon. “There. Not a buckle in sight.”
Bull grinned at her, a smile that was both predatory and incredibly arousing. Dorian wasn’t ready for it when Bull lifted her into the air, walking her over to the wall and pressing her up against it. Bull let her go and knelt in front of her, but Dorian barely had time to get her feet back on the ground before Bull picked her up again, putting one of Dorian’s legs over each shoulder.
“This is-” Dorian said, though she didn’t have a good word to finish her sentence.
“I told you what I was going to do,” Bull said.
“I didn’t know you meant it quite so literally,” Dorian said.
“I can put you down if you want,” Bull told her.
Dorian might have said yes, but Bull was tantalizingly close to being exactly where Dorian wanted her, and it seemed like such a waste of time to move the proceedings. “Let’s not be so hasty,” she said, wrapping a hand tentatively around one of Bull’s horns. Bull laughed, the last sound she made before lowering her mouth to Dorian’s cunt. Dorian’s hand tightened, struck as she was with the sudden pleasure of it, the hot slide of Bull’s tongue across her clit.
Dorian didn’t know if she was actually going to scream, but she thought she just might cry. She’d never been with anyone who had a mouth quite as talented as Bull’s- and that included when she’d paid good money for it. She grabbed Bull’s horns with both hands, looking for an anchor, anything to keep from coming apart entirely, just melting under Bull’s tongue.
Bull slipped one long, thick finger inside of her, and Dorian gasped at the feeling, just what she needed in counterpoint to Bull’s mouth. She tried to push back against it, get more, but Bull just held her down with her free hand, making her take it. Bull moved her finger just so, finding that perfect spot inside of Dorian, and Dorian, Maker help her, screamed at the sudden pleasure of it, driven to it by Bull’s unrelenting, unerring skill. Bull growled, a low, pleased, entirely feral sound, and very suddenly Dorian’s orgasm was right there, she was tipping over and falling into it, lost underneath it.
Bull took her all the way through it, finally pulling her fingers out and resting her hand on Dorian’s thigh. Dorian didn’t think she could find it in herself to move, much less make any larger contributions.
“Give me a moment to collect myself,” Dorian said, “or at least catch my breath.”
“Take your time,” Bull said. She winked. “Besides, I know you’re good for it.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Dorian said, her lips curling into a smile. She looked down at the two of them. “Unfortunately I don’t think this position would work in reverse.”
“You might throw out your back,” Bull said. She lowered Dorian to the floor, who managed to keep her balance even though her legs still felt a bit shaky. “Bed?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Dorian said, as Bull stood; she let Bull tug her along towards the bed, ending up straddling her hips when Bull lay down and pulled Dorian on top of her.
“I’ve got an idea,” Bull said. “You can say no if you’re not up for it, no hard feelings.”
“I’m listening,” Dorian said.
“Do you know what a saartoh nehrappan is?” Bull asked. “I don’t know what Vints call it.”
“I’m afraid not,” Dorian said, frowning.
“You know,” Bull said. “A Kirkwall cudgel.”
Dorian raised an eyebrow. “You mean a rogue’s staff?”
“That’s the one,” Bull said. “I thought there was some fancy Tevene word for it.”
“Some concepts are considered far too base to be expressed in Tevene,” Dorian said. She ran a finger along Bull’s horn. “And what is your plan for it?”
Bull grinned. “I was thinking you could fuck me.”
“I’m certainly not going to turn that down,” Dorian said, and Bull moved Dorian out of the way and rolled out of bed, going to a chest in the corner and rummaging around. “Is it going to fit me?”
“It adjusts,” Bull said, pulling the thing out of the chest and coming back to the bed. “You ever worn one of these before?”
“I’m usually on the other end of things,” Dorian said, “but I think I can figure it out.”
“You’ll do fine,” Bull said. She helped Dorian into the harness, tightening it here and there until the base of the staff was flush against Dorian’s skin. She looked Dorian up and down, and the heat in her look made Dorian feel flushed. “Damn. That’s what I like to see.”
Dorian wrapped her hand around the staff, testing its weight. It was different than the usual Tevinter model, wood and leather instead of something more ornate. It was considerably big, but then, so was Bull. “How do you want it?”
Bull moved farther up the bed, putting her hands around the slats in the headboard and spreading her legs wide. “Give it to me hard,” she said, with a wide grin.
Dorian got into position, running the tip of the staff over Bull’s slick folds for a moment before pressing in experimentally. Bull seemed to like it, so she kept going, sliding in until the whole of the staff was inside of her. She thrust slowly in and out, watching for Bull’s reactions. It was fairly intuitive, now that she was actually doing it; she supposed that people had been giving it to each other like this all down through the ages, so why not?
“Yeah, like that,” Bull said, as Dorian moved faster. “You’re getting the hang of it.”
“I must not be doing very well if you can still find it in you to talk,” Dorian said, and Bull laughed. Dorian dared to push in a little harder, a little deeper, and Bull groaned, pushing back.
“Shit, that’s good,” Bull sighed. “Fuck me hard, that’s it.”
Dorian put her hands on Bull’s thighs, holding her open while she thrust in again and again. She hadn’t expected to get much out of this- this part was for Bull, who had been so very obliging up against that wall- but she was definitely enjoying herself. Whether it was the pressure of the staff against her clit or just the way that Bull looked all spread out in front of her, she really couldn’t say. But then again, did it matter?
“You like that?” Dorian asked.
“Fuck yeah I do,” Bull said, lifting her hips to meet Dorian’s. “Love it when you fuck me like this.”
“You might just talk me into doing it again,” Dorian said, and Bull laughed. In the next breath she was moaning; she reached down, playing with her clit while Dorian fucked her, her other hand clutching at her breast.
“I’m almost there,” Bull groaned. “Just a little more, come on.”
“Come on,” Dorian said, moving as hard and as fast as she could. “Come for me.”
Bull fairly roared when she came, a cracking noise coming from the headboard as her fingers tightened around it. Dorian tried to keep going, letting her ride it all the way out, but it was a little bit like- well. It was like trying to ride a bull. At least Bull herself would get a kick out of Dorian thinking that.
“Shit,” Bull sighed, all but collapsing back against the bed. She reached down, putting a hand on Dorian’s hip. “You can stop now. Pull out slowly.”
Dorian was about to complain about being instructed, but then she remembered that no, she didn’t have any idea what she was doing. She withdrew carefully, and almost as soon as she was done, Bull pulled her into an embrace, kissing her.
“That was a good start,” Dorian said, when they parted.
Bull’s eyebrow went up. “A start?”
“You can’t imagine that we’re done here,” Dorian said. “We’ve only just taken the edge off.”
“I really like you,” Bull said. A warm feeling went through Dorian at her words, even though she knew Bull meant nothing real by it. She wondered what it would feel like if Bull meant it, if there was something more between them. The appeal was undeniable, though Dorian wasn’t sure she’d even know how to respond to anything quite that blatant, something other than trysting in back rooms under several layers of secrecy.
Not that any of it meant she was interested, of course.
Perish the thought.

