This Is Where My Stuff Lives

The personal and professional (citation needed) page of Quinn (me)

Oct. 23rd - sex pollen, kinktober
sex pollen, fuck or die, breeding kink?, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fingering, doggy-style


Anders and Merrill walked stiffly side-by-side through the catacombs, deliberately not making eye contact. Hawke had sent them off to “look for something sufficiently dwarfy” that they could bring back to the man who’d hired them, but Anders was fairly certain she just wanted them somewhere she couldn’t hear them bickering.

Even Anders had to admit it had been worse than usual. He couldn’t seem to stop sniping and Merrill was in particularly rare form, which had led to at least two full-blown arguments before lunch.

“I don’t see anything,” Merrill sighed. “And what counts as ‘dwarfy’?”

“Something that looks like a Hightown prick would put it in their foyer and point it out every time they have guests.” Anders poked at a pile of rubble with the butt of his staff. “But I fear this place has been picked clean.”

“We have to find something. Hawke’s already cross with us.” Merrill crossed to the far side of the room, investigating a small pedestal.

“Picked up on that, did you?”

“I do pay attention sometimes, you know. Particularly when Hawke is cross. Helps me know when to duck.” She poked at a raised panel on the pedestal and jumped back when it extended itself outwards. “Oh! It did…something!”

Anders crossed the room to peer down at the panel. It was glowing slightly now, runes that Anders couldn’t read illuminated in the dim light of the room. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, I don’t read Dwarven.” Merrill peered down at it. “Maybe if I touch the same button it’ll turn it off?”

Anders shrugged. “I’ve heard worse theories.”

Merrill touched the recessed circle in the middle of the panel. One side of the pedestal lit up red, but nothing else happened. Frowning, Anders touched the same spot, and the other side of the pedestal lit up blue.

“Well it’s very pretty,” Merrill said after a moment - just as the door slammed shut behind them.

“Fuck,” Anders spat, running to where the door had sealed itself shut.

“Did I make it angry?” Merrill asked, whirling around to look for an alternate exit. “Does it not like being called pretty?”

“I think it doesn’t like people touching its buttons.” Anders was trying to wedge his staff under the door, to no avail.

“Well that’s fair I suppose.” Merrill started peering at the sides of the pedestal, but all she found were more lights. “I think we might be trapped,” she said gloomily.

“I think you might be right,” Anders sighed, thumping the door with his staff for good measure. “Well, Hawke has to miss us eventually, I suppose.”

“Maybe,” Merrill said, settling on the ground with her own staff between her knees. “She was awfully cross.”

It was mostly a joke; they both knew Hawke wouldn’t leave them trapped in a dwarven ruin for the crime of “being annoying”. If that was the case she’d probably have left them both in the Deep Roads to begin with.

There was a hissing noise from Anders’ left. When he looked over, there was a gas seeping from underneath one of the walls. No, not under the wall - there were little jets there, piping the gas in from elsewhere.

Fuck.” He dragged his scarf up over his nose and mouth, and saw Merrill do the same. He drew an ice spell into his hands, intending to block the jets with a layer of ice, but as soon as it had started it stopped again. The gas seemed to dissipate into the air, not even really reaching the two of them.

“Well,” Merrill said uncertainly, slowly letting her scarf drop from her face. “That was…”

“Odd,” Anders finished as he let the spell fizzle out, shaking the sensation from his hand as he dropped his scarf as well.

“It really is very old,” Merrill said. “A trap that just broke down over the years, I suppose.”

“Yeah, probably.” Anders sank to the floor, resting his head against the wall behind him. “Back to waiting for Hawke, I suppose.”

“I suppose so,” Merrill sighed, taking her own spot against the far wall.

And wait they did, though after about ten minutes or so Anders started having to shift how he was sitting. Not because the stone floor was uncomfortable (though it was), but because to his own bewilderment, he was growing hard inside his trousers.

I know we’re bored, but come on now, he thought frantically, trying to will it back down. It wasn’t working, because it never worked, though he continued valiantly to think of the least erotic things imaginable. Grand Cleric Elthina. Those infections Barnaby keeps bringing me to heal. The Deep Roads.

He paused for a full second before letting his head fall back against the wall with a thud. “Fuck,” he said again, with full feeling and emphasis.

“What?” Merrill’s voice was higher than it probably should have been, and when he looked over at her her cheeks were tinged pink.

Fuck, he thought again, for good measure. “Merrill, are you - is there - “ He sighed in frustration, bringing one hand up to tangle in his hair. “There is not a delicate way to ask this. Merrill, are you getting horny just from sitting in this room?”

“Wh - no!” Merrill’s flush crawled further up her ears and her voice squeaked up another octave. “Why would - how - “

“Merrill.” He cut off her stammering with a firm tone. “I think I know what that gas was.”

“What was it, then?” She had curled her body fully away from him, looking over her shoulder as she spoke.

“The Grey Wardens I served with talked about some kind of…dwarven…fertility…something. In times of low population, it…trapped dwarves together. To make them…well.”

“Oh. Oh. Oh no.” Somehow Merrill had gone pale while still blushing. “It wants us to - to - “

“That’s my guess.” He gestured at the still-glowing panel. “Nothing happened until we both touched that thing.”

“Well how do we turn it off?” Merrill started investigating it again.

“I don’t know.”

“Didn’t the Grey Wardens - “

“I wasn’t listening,” Anders groaned, thudding the back of his head against the wall again.

“Why wouldn’t you listen - “

“Because I thought it was bullshit,” he half-shouted. “I thought I was being hazed. I’d go back and kick their asses if I thought any of them were still alive.”

Merrill made an impatient, frustrated noise, still investigating the pedestal. Anders was achingly hard now, his cock throbbing with every beat of his heart, and Merrill’s ass bent over the stone dais wasn’t helping.

“Look,” he called over. “What if we just…go to our separate corners of the room, turn our backs, and…deal with it. Maybe it’ll burn the gas out of our systems and we can just…go.”

Merrill looked at him over her shoulder again, still bent over the dais, and Maker’s fucking breath that was not helping. “Yeah,” she said after a moment, and Anders wondered if it was because she also felt like she was going to explode into a thousand pieces if she didn’t deal with it. “I’ll just…over here, then.” She went to the other side of a low stone wall that hid her from view when she sat.

“Yeah. Yeah, and I’ll - “ He stood, wincing, and made his way into the far corner of the room. Shoved his robes up until he could shimmy his trousers down his hips, and wrapped a hand around himself.

He couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped him - he was so hard it hurt, and just the pressure of his own hand was a relief. Releasing himself just long enough to wet his hand, he rested his forearm against the wall, his head against his arm, and started stroking himself as fast as he could tolerate.

It wasn’t ideal, because nothing about this situation was ideal, but he worked himself up to the edge regardless. He tried to control his breathing, to make things slightly less awkward for Merrill, but a high-pitched whimper echoed through the room and made the coil at the base of his spine snap sooner than he was expecting.

He thrust his hips against his hand, biting back a surprised groan, but the climax was dry, with nothing to show for the ordeal. Furthermore, it didn’t work. He was still as worked up as he had been before, with an added layer of frustration.

“Anders?” Merrill’s slightly breathy voice came from across the room.

“Yes, Merrill?”

“I…I don’t think it worked.”

So it wasn’t just him. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the wall he was leaning on moving, pushing farther into the room and unbalancing him so that he landed on his ass on the floor. Merrill shrieked as well, and he watched upside-down as she tried to vault over the wall she’d been hiding behind, trip over her own trousers, and land on the floor with a thud.

“Fenedhis,” she hissed through her teeth, trying to right herself. The walls shuddered to a stop, having enclosed the space by a good five feet on either side.

“Right,” Anders said weakly. “Apparently that…wasn’t okay.”

“And I feel worse,” Merrill said miserably. She propped herself up against the non-moving wall, staring down at Anders. His robes had fallen back over his legs, protecting at least some of his dignity, but when he glanced down at himself the tent was still quite obvious.

“What if we…do for each other?” He gestured between the two of them. “If this place was set up to make dwarves make little dwarves, maybe that’ll…fool it?” He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Fuck, I don’t know. I’m going to kill Hawke.”

“This isn’t Hawke’s fault,” Merrill chided gently, moving over to sit next to him. “She didn’t know about this…this awful room.”

“Maybe she did,” Anders said darkly. “Maybe this is her way of trying to make us stop bickering.”

Merrill giggled a little at that. “Maybe. But I doubt it.” She tugged at the edge of Anders’ robe. “If we’re trying your idea let’s try it, I don’t want the walls to start up again.”

“…right.” The idea had been fine in theory, but in practice seemed much more daunting. Which was stupid; they were both grown adults in an exceedingly stupid situation, whatever they had to do to get out of it was just born of necessity. Nothing else. It didn’t have to be awkward.

And maybe if he said it enough, he’d start to believe it.

He forced himself to sit up, turning to face Merrill. Shoved his robe out of the way in irritation - the heavy cloth against the head of his already-sensitive cock was driving him spare - and both of their eyes dropped to each other’s lower halves at the same time. Merrill’s thighs were wet, her folds red and swollen, and he winced as his cock twitched slightly at the sight.

“What if we just - closed our eyes,” Merrill said, sounding strangled. Anders took some small relief in the fact that this apparently was just as awkward for her as it was for him. “Not that you’re bad to look at! I mean, I don’t mean, I - oh!” She slapped a hand on the floor in consternation and Anders couldn’t fight a fond smile.

“I think that might make it more difficult, unfortunately,” he said. “Here, stretch out.”

They got themselves arranged with Merrill laying on the floor and Anders kneeling next to her, robes tucked up out of the way and trousers shed entirely. The floor was cold and hard under Anders’ knees, and he couldn’t imagine Merrill was faring any better.

He laid a hand on her thigh, making her jump slightly, and she reached out to wrap her fingers gingerly around his length. He sighed a little at the relief, much better than when it was his own hand, and slid his fingers between Merrill’s thighs.

She jumped again, but this time it was her hips lifting up to meet his fingers. He found the bundle of nerves there quickly, setting a pace of small, quick circles that had her head falling back and her eyes drifting shut. Her hand slid along his length, careful of the wrap around her palm, and his own eyes shut at the sensation.

There was no point hiding their sounds from each other this time; Merrill whimpered and moaned as Anders kept up his pace, and his breath quickened with each twist of Merrill’s wrist. Eventually his fingers slid lower, hesitating at her entrance in a silent question, and her answer was to buck her hips up towards his hand.

He slid his fingers in as far as he could, curling them inside of her and pressing the heel of his palm down above her to drive that sensitive spot against his fingertips. She cried out, her back arching and her grip tightening for just a moment before she caught herself and began pumping him even faster.

It wasn’t sex. But it was close enough for his poor abused nerves that he had to lean over and brace himself on the floor, the grit digging into his knees as he bucked his hips into the circle of her fist. She brought her other hand up to tangle in her own hair, her mouth falling open as he felt the muscles of her abdomen tighten and her body clench down around his fingers.

She cried out as she came, back arching as she clenched down on him again and again, and he followed behind her with a cry of his own, feeling his cock pulse against the palm of her hand.

But again, nothing. Again, the heat and the hunger persisted, and in fact grew stronger, until he thought he would lose his grip on reality right then and there if he didn’t get some actual relief.

And then, as if things weren’t bad enough, there was another low rumble as the walls started moving in again.

“Shit,” Anders breathed. He couldn’t think straight; every ounce of blood in his body was centralized in his dick.

“Anders.” Merrill sat up, gripping his arm. “Anders I think we have to actually do it.”

“What?”

“I think you need to actually fuck me, and I think you need to come inside.”

Anders cock twitched heavily and he tried to ignore it in favor of responding to Merrill.

“What?”

Merrill grabbed his arm. “The thing was made to make dwarves want to fuck!” Her nails dug into him through the sleeve of his robe. “And apparently thinks we’ll perform better under pressure!”

A moment of clarity burst through him as the walls scraped against the floor, and he scrambled upright as Merrill positioned herself on her hands and knees in front of him. Anders flipped her robes out of the way, then his own, and guided himself into her with a bone-deep sigh of relief. Merrill had a similar reaction, her head dropping down between her shoulders, and Anders dug his fingers into her hips as he drew back to thrust into her.

She cried out, folding her arms underneath her head and resting her forehead there as Anders pounded into her as quickly as he could, eyeing the wall growing ever closer. Merrill rocked forward with every impact of his hips against her ass, and one of her hands disappeared underneath her to rub her clit in quick circles that had her arching against him.

Anders realized she had the right idea; they had to finish this before the walls decided they were taking too long and just crushed them on principle. He could feel the fire pooling in his belly, the sparks running up his spine, and he decided to take a chance. Very carefully, he slid his fingers along Merrill’s ribs, trailing static as he went. Not enough for a real charge, but enough to excite the nerves, and certainly nothing he’d ever heard a complaint about. Indeed, Merrill sucked in a deep breath, her head coming up in surprise, and she looked over her shoulder at him with one wide green eye.

That was what did him in, was Merrill’s mingled surprise, shock, and pleasure, and the coil in his belly snapped. He cried out as he finally, finally actually came, spilling over inside of Merrill as she continued to work herself in fast, desperate circles.

The heat abated, the hunger fell away, and Merrill came a moment later with a strangled cry of her own that she muffled with her own arm. Anders hissed as she clenched down around his overstimulated cock, and when she finally fell still he pulled out of her gingerly.

At the front of the room, the pedestal flared one final time, then fell dim. The walls stopped moving inwards, scraping backwards to their original positions, and the door in the far wall unlocked with a thunk. It didn’t open, however - likely whatever ran this room knew its occupants would need a moment to put themselves back together.

“I hope that doesn’t mean I’ve actually gotten pregnant,” Merrill said wearily, rolling onto her back.

Anders winced, sitting back on his knees. “There are spells - “

“I know, I know.” Merrill waved a hand at him. “Dwarves wouldn’t have thought of that, would they?”

“…no, I guess they wouldn’t have.” Anders hunted for his trousers, found Merrill’s first, and handed them to her.

“Cheers,” she said, leveraging herself upright to put herself back together.

They got dressed in silence, found their staves, and then just stared at each other for a long moment. They both still looked very much like two people who had fucked on a rough stone floor, their clothes in disarray and sweat drying in their hair.

“We can tell Hawke we found a golem,” Merrill said finally.

“A big one,” Anders agreed readily.

“A-and be cross with her, for sending us off on our own. When there are golems.”

“Big ones.”

“Right.” Merrill squared her shoulders, caught Anders’ eye, and slumped again. “I’ll come by the clinic,” she said quietly. “Tomorrow, by myself.”

“So I can check for golems,” he said solemnly, and Merrill’s giggles broke the tension as they hauled the door open to go find Hawke.

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