#hello iwyn you are having sex in public AGAIN

[thevikingwoman]

For the smut prompt list, Solas/Iwyn (Solwyn?) I'm A2 and/or F1 😉

Thank you @redinkofshame! These were fun ones to combine :D

A2: Dry humping/clothed sex. F1: In an elevator/otherwise enclosed space

Some smut for @dadrunkwriting

Fandom: Dragon Age. Words: 838

Solas x Iwyn Lavellan | Modern AU | smut Rating: Explicit. Sexual content, frottage, public sex, (implied) exhibitionism, elevator sex, very slight sub!Solas.

Penthouse Suite

“There you are, vhenan.” Solas deep voice floats across the lobby along with his footsteps. “Were you hiding?”

He embraces her, kissing her neck.

“No, I just needed a little space.” She leans into him. “I got distracted.”

Iwyn gestures at the huge marine aquarium in front of them, set into the lobby wall. It’s two floors tall, and filled with colorful fishes from Riviani reefs.

“Mmmm,” Solas says, and kisses her neck again, trailing his lips down her back.

She shivers, and presses herself against him. He’s half-hard against her ass, and she moves a little; just enough to tease. The tropical fish are no longer interesting. She twists, and kisses him, hard and hungry. When she pulls back, he has lipstick stains on his mouth and jaw.

“Should we return to the party?” Solas asks. A little breathless.

“No.”

It’s a nice party. More than nice, grandiose once could say. Of course, Varric Tethras knows anyone who is anything, and getting extra invitations to The Champion’s engagement party is what he does – even if he seems to dislike any attention himself. Right now, however, Iwyn doesn’t care one bit about the party, or Varric, or Hawke and his fiancée. She wants Solas spread out on the bed, naked and hers. She takes his hand, kisses him again, and pulls him across the hall to the elevator.

Solas pushes the button, and his hand falls to her low back. Her dress is backless, more or less, and his hands are warm on her spine as they slide lower, indecently beneath the fabric. The door dings, and they sidestep the group of drunken people coming out of the elevator, laughing and cheering. One of them left a half-drunk glass of champagne on the elevator floor.

Iwyn pushes the button for the top floor and pushes Solas against the wall. He kisses her eagerly, fiercely. She molds herself to his body, she wants closer, feeling all of him, hardness and skin and softness. He squeezes her ass, and she bites his lip.

“Vhenan,” he groans and she bites his lips again, his jaw, his throat.

Their hands roam and touch and she’s undoing his tie, the top of his shirt. Solas is kissing her shoulder, hands on her neck, her hip. She doesn’t really want to wait. The whole evening has been long, dressing up and eating and dancing among the ridiculous décor, pink glittering hearts everywhere. Solas looks good and she wants. Needs.

Ding

The elevator stops, and she’s about to pull Solas out, but they’re only the 5th floor – where the spa and the pool is she recalls, and two couples walk in. Iwyn sighs, and stops her unbuttoning. Solas hastily slips the shoulder strap of her dress back up in place.

“Going up?” one of the people ask, rather needlessly.

Solas nods, Iwyn doesn’t turn around. They must be going to the bar, or maybe they have penthouse suites too.

She doesn’t care.

Iwyn slowly slides her hands down between them, and brushes against the erection pressed to her stomach. Solas stifles a sound.

She does it again, a little firmer this time.

“Iwyn,” he says, low and urgent.

She pushes his hips firmly against the elevator wall with one hand, and caress him again with the other, quick and teasing. The other people are engaged in their drunken discussion, something about cheese and tequila.

“Do you want me to stop?” she whispers, lips against the shell of his ear.

He shudders against her, and she holds still.

“No.”

“Very good, ma lath.”

She focuses in earnest, applying pressure and friction through his clothes while the floors fly by. They stop at another floor, but no-one is there. The other people laugh and look around, sticking their feet out the first time the elevator door closes.

Iwyn focuses on Solas, on his low grunts and the tenseness in his body. He buries his head in her shoulder with frantic, tender kisses. She grips his cock fully, feeling the weight of it through his pants and she moves her hand faster, and firmer. His hips buck against her other hand.

Someone manages to kick over the misplaced champagne glass.

Solas groans, and bites down on her neck.

The elevator dings and comes to a stop.

His pants are damp against her hand.

Everyone else file out, heading for the bar. Iwyn and Solas follow, turning the other direction towards their suite. She squeezes his hand and grins. He grins back, heat in his gaze and a blush on his cheeks.

As soon as they turn a corner, Solas pushes her against the wall, kissing her franticly. His fingers roam beneath her dress, finding her thigh through the high slit, and up further, quickly finding her soaked underwear.

“Iwyn, vhenan. Fuck.” She bucks against him. “I want to taste you. Please.”

“Yes,” she says, and steps sideways down the corridor, and kisses him again, and he takes two steps more.

They might make it to their room.

Might.

#solavellan fanfiction #solavellan #solas x Iwyn #modern AU #hello Iwyn you are having sex in public AGAIN #viking writes #Iwyn Lavellan #published 5/22/2021

[thevikingwoman]

AU-gust 2020 - Prompt 11: Farm/Ranch AU

It’s no longer August, but who cares. More AU. based on these prompts from @augustwritingchallenge. This one is is explicit and was a lot of fun. I had some clear images in my head, and the smell summer in my nose. For @dadrunkwriting too. 

AU-gust masterpost.

Fandom: Dragon Age, Words: 1871,

 Read this on AO3 || Part 2

Iwyn Lavellan x Solas | Modern AU | porn with plot-ish? roamance? Rating: Explicit. Sexual content, oral, handjob, summer, flirting, flash-fire romance.

Hay

Iwyn Lavellan had forgotten how quiet it is at the farm. She can glimpse the light from the neighbor’s house across the field, and another across the road, but she can’t hear any of them. The only sounds are the cicadas, singing themselves through the night, and the far gurgling of the river.

Above her, twinkling stars in the vast expanse of the sky.

She breathes in, and out, and closes her eyes. Her brother was probably right – a vacation will do her good. Her memories of the farm are hazy and beautiful, of long summer days full love, picking sweet ripe berries and swimming in the river. She hasn’t been up here since Branwen took over the farmhouse, and she’s a little ashamed she hasn’t visited him, but he’ll be back in 4 days. All she has to is feed the hallas, and maybe he needs a vacation too.

-

The next day she decides to go to the river for a swim. The river isn’t far, bordering the edge of the property, behind the fields. The hay here is the best of the world, she remembers Grandfather telling her, of how they shipped it all the way to the Dales. Now there is only a small field left, mostly used for their own hallas, but the memory makes her smile, and the just-cut hay smells the same. Dusty and warm and full of summer.

Half lost in memories, she crests the hill and stops. Someone is loading bales of hay into the bed of a gleaming silver truck.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

She hurries over to the guy, tall and broad-shouldered and bald.

He turns, and frowns.

“Who are you?”

“The owner of the hay you’re stealing.” It’s technically her brother’s, but it’s the same thing.

“I think you are mistaken. This needs to get in before next week, and my neighbor, Branwen Lavellan, asked me to help while he was out of town.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I’m Branwen’s sister, Iwyn. He didn’t tell me he’d asked you for help.”

“And he didn’t tell me he had a sister, let alone such a beautiful one.”

He smirks and she suddenly notices his lush lips and sharp cheekbones and sharp, blue eyes. She blushes. She’s barely dressed, wearing a thin sarong over her one-piece bathing suit. Dark green, it plunges deeply in the back and front, the fabric covering her breasts held together with a string of golden beads. It’s more suitable for a Riviani beach than a farmland river, or arguing with beautiful strangers in the middle of a field.

“And I didn’t know he had such beautiful neighbors,” she says, trying to regain her balance.

“I’m Solas.”

He pushes up his sleeves, and holds out his hand. She shakes it, his long fingers wrapping around her hand, warm and a little sticky from the heat. She doesn’t mind.

“I’m going to the river.”

She points ahead, as if her bathing suit wasn’t a clue.

Solas nods. “Have a nice swim, Iwyn. I hope to see you around.”

She walks away, and she can feel his gaze on her back. She needs to cool down, and not just from the merciless sun.

-

The day after Solas is back, hauling the hay from the rest of the field. He’s on this side of the hill now, and she can watch him from the front porch of the house. He waves when she comes out, and she want to stay and watch, his solid arms lifting bale after bale. It would be strange though, to watch someone work while doing nothing.

Iwyn walks out to him with two filled water bottles. She tosses one to him, and he catches it and drinks, tilting his head back exposing his long throat.

“Thank you, Iwyn.”

“You’re welcome.”

She picks up a bale, and heaves it into the truck. Picks up another. Solas looks surprised, raising both eyebrows almost comically, then he goes to work to.

“I thought you were on vacation?”

“It didn’t feel fair to have you work on the farm when I’m here too. I don’t mind helping.”

“You’re certainly more than capable.”

She wipes sweat from her brow.

“Is this a competition?”

“I was merely noticing your strength and grace.”

She blushes. It must be the heat.

“I’m not sure throwing hay is graceful, but thank you.”

“Your grace is evident in your every movement, Iwyn.”

“Like when I was wearing a bathing suit yesterday?”

“Like that, yes.”

He doesn’t blush, but his cheeks are reddened a little from the sun, and his nose is dotted with freckles. Despite his imposing figure, he looks cute.

“Where do you live?” she asks. She’d not heard of any of the neighbors selling, but maybe her brother forgot.

“I just purchased the property at the end of the road. Your brother’s property borders my own.”

“You purchased Mythal’s house?”

“I suppose so, if you mean the yellow house at 535?”

“No one has lived there for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid, Grandfather used to tell ghost stories about it.”

“I assure you, I have seen no ghosts.”

“That’s a relief.”

The talk while they work, Solas has purchased the house to use in the summer, and plans to rent it out during the rest of the year. Iwyn learns he’s a professor, teaching ancient history. She tells of her childhood visits to her grandparents, of all the secret places and shortcuts. Ever so often, they stray into flirting again, the heat of their conversation rivaling the sun above them.

She grabs some water, and it’s gone a little hot, but she’s very thirsty. She hands the bottle to Solas, and picks up some more hay. She turns to toss the bale and bumps right into him as he’s doing the same, water bottle already empty. She’s thrown off balance but he catches her, and now she’s trapped against his broad chest.

“Graceful, you said.”

She smiles at him. He doesn’t let go of her.

“I certainly feel off-balance.”

She kisses him, briefly, on the lips she’s been thinking about since yesterday. They’re soft, not rough or chapped even though he’s been working in the sun. He doesn’t allow her to pull back before his lips are on hers again, hard and soft and when he opens his mouth, she does the same, letting him in, stroking and moving and pressing their bodies closer. She gasps when his hands find her ass, pushing his leg between hers.

He nipples tighten despite the heat, and she shudders and moans. She wants more, now, and she tears at his shirt, running her hands up his back, his skin under her palms. Solas moans into her mouth, and she bites his lips, gently. He gasps and presses closer as if it’s possible.

“Iwyn, --” he kisses her jaw, his hand travelling downwards, pulling at her skirt. “Iwyn. Can I?”

“I want you, Solas.”

They’ve just met and maybe it’s reckless and maybe he will be her brother’s neighbor for years, but those are fleeting thoughts, much less important than his fingers stroking her thigh, than the sound he makes when she kisses his throat. She wants him, and she wants him now.

She leans back and works on the buttons on his shirt, and his hand slide under her skirt and up, up right where she wants them. He runs his fingers over her panties, teasing her, rubbing softer and harder, making her wet and wanton. She pushes his shirt is off his shoulders, and slides her hand over his pale skin, finding his pink nipples. She pinches, and is rewarded with a deep groan. She does it again.

He kisses her viciously, and she grinds against his hand, moving her own to his obvious erection, rubbing his cock through his pants. She works on the fly, but he grabs hold of her and lifts her, seating her on the truck hatch.  

His hands rest on her thighs, spreading her legs. They are long and elegant and rough from the work. He stands between her legs and he kisses her again, deeply and thoroughly.

Iwyn takes the chance to tease him again, his nipples, his cock. He bucks against her hands, and his hands are back on her sex, teasing. His thumb circles her clit and she tilts her hips up, seeking his clever fingers.

“More, Solas. More.”

He pauses, and pulls down her panties, all the way down her legs and off her feet. His hands eagerly push her skirt aside and up and she is unashamed. No one should come by, and she doesn’t care if anyone does.

“Iwyn, I want –” he looks her in the eyes, and licks his lips. “Can I taste you?”

She nods and he drops down, pulling her forward and draping her legs over his shoulders. He licks and licks again and it feels very good. She is scrambling for anything to hold onto with her hands, stroking his head, grabbing straws on the truck bed. He isn’t slow or teasing anymore, and he knows what he is doing. Her pleasure spirals and everything blurs into to hot, soft, hard, touch, blue sky above and she screams his name and comes.

He brings her down gently, kissing her inner thigh, and she reaches for him, wherever she can touch, his shoulders, his ear. He shudders with the latter, and she does it again, and sits up while she pulls him closer.

She undoes his pants, and now she’s not interrupted. His cock is large and hard, the head red and peeking out from the hood. She pumps him, gently and then harder, until he groans and buries his head in her shoulder. She moves faster, twisting her hand a little, keeping the same pressure. She wants to know what makes him shudder, what makes his cock pulse in her hand, just like that.  

“Solas, do you have protection?”

“Not –” she presses her thumb to his slit, and circles the sensitive skin around. “—not here. Iwyn, I’m –“

She wants to feel his thick hardness inside of her, but for now she just nods, and increases her speed a little, her other hand tweaking a nipple.

“Come, Solas. Come for me.”

He stiffens and jerks and groans, sticky warmth flooding her hand. She holds him through it, and she wipes her hand on some straw. He kisses her or she kisses him, and somehow they both end up on the ground, half way in the shade of the truck.

She is sticky and sweaty and everything smells of warm grass and summer. She is too hot to move, and too hot to stay, but she likes the nakedness of him next to her. The sky is still blue, she is leaving a few days, but summer feels endless, the heat stretched across the centuries. She wants it to be endless, shimmering, just the two of them half naked in the field forever.

“Do you want to come to dinner,” she asks. “Tonight?”

“Yes.”

The straws tickle her. There’s two tiny fluffy clouds in the sky. She kisses his shoulder.

#au_gust_2020 #dragon age fanfiction #au fanfiction #solavellan #solavellan au #solas x iwyn #solavellan fanfiction #ranch au #I just wanted solas working in a field #so here we go #Iwyn wanted it too #hehhe #hello iwyn you are having sex in public AGAIN #I do have all sort of backstory ideas here but ah #flash fire #chosen as opposite to slow burn #viking writes #published 9/4/2020

[thevikingwoman]

Prompt: What if Iwyn is nervous about something that’s coming up in the near future, and Solas is trying to reassure her, but then he ends up doing it a little too well, and she can’t help herself, and they end up between the sheets...😏

Thank you, my dear! This was a very good prompt, though they did not make it to the sheets…

@dadrunkwriting

Fandom: Dragon AgeWords: 860

Iwyn Lavellan x Solas | Inqusition timeframe | romance/smutRating: Explicit. Dancing, smut. 

Lead

“…and I must say I’m quite pleased Dorian thought to point this book to me. It is curious how many times magisters have attempted, and failed to enter the fade. I think it should provide us some answers to Corypheus’ methods and…”

Solas pauses, and looks at Iwyn, who is seemingly entranced by the mural depicting the destruction of Haven. “You’re not listening.”

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. You were talking about – Dorian?”

“What is worrying you?” He runs his hand up her spine, and down again. It is late, and barely anyone is there. “Vhenan,” he adds. It feels good on his tongue.

“Nothing.” She sighs, and looks at him. “Not nothing. The upcoming ball at Halamshiral. I might know how to do this – fighting and making decisions. I don’t know if I’m always right, but I make the choice and move forward. I can handle myself. But this ball; the dancing, the court, all the nobles and their plans. Josephine has helped me of course, but I’m worried they’d disregard me. An elf, making a fool of herself, not knowing how to dance. If I just was there to fight them, not… woo them.”

“That might still be the best cause of action,” he says, and she smiles, which is his intent. “Fighting, I mean. I’m sure you will do fine, dancing and all.”

“And you have much experience at fancy courts?”

He does, and he cannot say. It has been very long, and not very long at all. He tucks her hair behind her ear.

“I’ve seen some… in the fade, I mean. Splendid balls and sinister intrigue.”

A small lie, that is all. He wants her to feel at ease, and he knows her power. She would have charmed them all, in Arlathan.

She smiles at him. “There are so many things in the fade. Everything. Must be fascinating to be a dreamer. And I’d be able to practice the dancing.”

“You’re far too graceful to worry about dancing –”

“Charmer –”

“—but maybe I can help. We could practice now?”

“Oh? You’d dance with me?”

“Of course.”

He doesn’t know Orleasian dances, but he suspects it doesn’t matter. Dancing is about confidence, and that comes easy to Iwyn. He places her hand on his shoulder, and the other at his hip. He moves, and she moves with him, and he lets a little magic escape. Faint music to help them along, and a bit of light to reflect the in her eyes. Dorian and the Grand Enchanter are long gone, and the ravens will not tell. He twirls her, and she laughs.

“If only I was dancing with you,” she says, and kisses him.

“You will do fine,” he says, and he knows. There might be columns stretching up along the walls right now, and he doesn’t care. “Next you should try to lead. It will be expected that you do.”

She is the leader of the Inquistion, and following is not in her nature.

She nods, and she boldly starts the steps again, circling the chamber. Her eyes enthrall him, and she pulls his hips closer. He does not protest, and he forgets himself as she sweeps him through the room and then up against the wall.

“Solas.” Her hand slides to the front of his pants, to the hardness he could not hide as they were dancing. She is far too close, and not close enough.

“Solas.” She says his name again, and his hips buck against her, into her. He nods, and her fingers are undoing his belt, pushing inside his pants. She bites his neck and pumps his cock, and he thinks maybe more magic escapes him, but he forgets why he should care.

She wants him, and he wants her.

His hands find her clothes, tearing at her leggings, finding soft skin underneath. She keeps her hand on his cock, pumping and he almost lets himself go right there, but she squeezes around the base of his cock and stops. Her other hand is still firm on his hip. He shudders, and kisses her neck.

“Fuck me,” she says, and pushes him away from the wall. He follows her lead, and they switch position so she can wrap her legs around him. He sheathes himself in her in one long stroke. She throws her head back against the wall. He has to move, faster, more, and it’s unrefined and rushed but her hands are on his ass, encouraging him to go even faster. He can’t hold back and he comes, muffling his voice in her tunic.

They’re still half-dressed, in public, and he isn’t sure she came. He is blushing.

“Iwyn, vhenan, I’m – did you – “

“It’s okay.” She kisses him, and puts her feet down. “I don’t mind you losing control a bit.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t mind either, not right now.

“I think that is enough dance practice.” She grins, and picks up her pants and takes his hand. She squeezes it, and looks earnest. “Thank you, ma lath. I feel much better now. Come with me upstairs?”

He nods.

#Solavellan #solavellan fanfiction #dragon age fanfiction #iwyn x solas #I feel like I have used a similar ending before #but I mean its very Iwyn #so here we are #anyway #its been ages since I wrote smut #so yay this was fun #thank you gala #viking writes #published 3/7/2020 #galadrieljones #hello iwyn you are having sex in public AGAIN #<-- i forgot this canonical tag for Iwyn