#hawris

[privatebooth]

No rest for the wicked.

[voukkake]

My first ship + my last ship = Dragon Age Dreamling AU

Ou yea

Hawke= Hob

Fenris= Dream

[juniemoe]

more than that i dare not say

fandom: dragon age.

rating: explicit. minors dni.

pairing: fenris/male hawke.

word count: 2,256

summary: fenris and hawke’s first time together.

A/N: replaying da2 makes me think about them a lot....... here’s a fic i’ve been meaning to write for years. you know how this one will end. ;-;

minors dni or you will get blocked, nothing personal.

in ao3. ♥

Hawke is tender with him. Of course he is.

Fenris is not sure why he expected any different.

Hawke is a gentle man under his armor made out of bad humour and sarcasm, and despite his intimidating stature and considerable height, he is the kindest man Fenris has ever met. Now, he towers over Fenris like the The Hundred Pillars did in Minrathous as he kisses him, giant callused palm cupping his cheek carefully, lips dry and sweet against Fenris’ own.

It didn't start like this, however. Fenris was hurried and impatient in his need, tugging Hawke against the wall to press him on it, kisses almost more like bites in their urgency.

Hawke slowed him down before either of them got too worked up. He turned the press of their mouths into something sweeter, honey-like, his gigantic hands on Fenris' body gentling into soft caresses instead of needy, harsh hands grabbing for flesh.

"There we go," he had said, like soothing a wild, baby animal. "It's alright, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

That was mere minutes ago. Now that they break apart for breath again, Hawke looks down at him with a big smile, looking quite besotted, to be truthful.

“I adore you,” Hawke says, voice soft with affection, the big sap. Fenris doesn’t know what to answer. He wishes he could articulate what he feels for Hawke better, wishes he could say that aloud and he wishes Hawke already knows that.

He says nothing.

And still Hawke’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he watches him, his rich brown eyes so deep Fenris could easily get lost in them, anyone could. He wants to kiss Hawke again, but he is too short, even on his tiptoes, and he clicks his tongue impatiently for being denied what he wants. 

Hawke immediately seems to know what he wants and is kind enough to lean down to press their lips together, which is frustrating as well as attractive.

Hawke is a handsome man, beautiful really, and Fenris is aware he has a line of potential suitors in his wake now that he is an Amell again, and yet here he is. Holding an escaped, broken elven slave and treating him like he could love him better than anyone else in the world. It could even be true.

When they break apart again, Hawke asks in a kiss-rough voice:

“Would you like to… head inside?”

For the first time Fenris is aware of the coldness of the stone wall against his back, and the cool autumn air cloaking them underneath. His skin is on goosebumps, though he doesn't know whether it's the crispness of the weather or simply from kissing Hawke.

He nods with a tiny smile, not trusting his voice not to fail him at the sight of Hawke's disheveled appearance. His wavy, dark brown hair is a mess and his cheeks are flushed with red.

He looks happy. Something inside Fenris' chest pangs with longing.

Hawke beams down at him and takes his hand into his own, leading him away from the courtyard to back inside the warmth of the manor.

“Mother must be already asleep,” Hawke says when they ascend the stairs to the upper floor, and Fenris is very grateful for that.

He isn’t sure how Leandra Hawke would react to her son taking an elven man to his bed chambers to sleep with. Hawke has said that she wishes him to marry to continue the noble Amell line, and Fenris feels a bang of jealousy just thinking about it. Hawke isn’t his, but he doesn’t wish for him to be anyone else’s, either. Hawke hasn’t made a secret for his distaste at the thought, he is the sort who marries for love, the foolish man. Beyond that, Hawke dotes on his mother, brings her flowers just to make her smile and is always on a look-out in the marketplace for that antivan tea she so enjoys.

Hawke is a better man than most, Fenris knows. Everyone who has spent more than a minute with him knows that.

Hawke holds his hand all the way to the bedroom and only there he releases it to press the door closed, and suddenly Fenris is more nervous than he possibly has ever been.

“Are you alright?” Hawke asks kindly, leaning backwards on the door to look at him. Fenris feels a strong desire to touch him again, so instead of answering he makes a decision and literally climbs on Hawke’s strong arms, trusting him to catch him. Hawke does, of course, and he is still taller than Fenris, even like this, which is absolutely ridiculous in Fenris’ opinion.

“You are a ridiculous man,” Fenris says, a little breathless, the first words he has said in a while. They make Hawke chuckle. Fenris has no choice but to kiss him again. And again. And again. So many times, he feels lightheaded.

Eventually, Hawke carries him to the bed and lays him down there. The sheets are soft and the bed is plush under him and he almost feels like he could almost fall asleep in moments if he didn’t want Hawke so badly. 

Kaffas.

Hawke sheds his shirt far too quickly for Fenris to enjoy the show of him taking off his clothes properly. His powerful light brown chest is covered with dark hair along his muscled arms, and Fenris drinks the sight of him towering over by the bed. He is beautiful. And hard under his breeches. Very hard.

Fenris wants to say something aloud but he doesn’t know how or what. His tongue is tied and his lips don’t move, and then Hawke is touching him again which makes him forget all else.

Hawke helps Fenris out of his armor with careful hands, always so careful. He pulls off his right hand gauntlet, then the other. Then the chest piece.

“I won’t break, Hawke,” Fenris says when he’s laid bare, naked under Hawke’s adoring eyes, “You needn’t be so gentle with me.”

Hawke startles a bit, blinking a few times, before he smiles again. “But I want to be.”

Ridiculous, indeed, yet so in character. That’s the kind of man Damian Hawke is. He is so beloved to Fenris.

Fenris flushes. He turns his head and doesn’t meet Hawke’s eyes. He feels too open, too vulnerable. Too… everything.

There’s a moment of stillness before there’s fingers cupping Fenris’ chin and his face is turned back to Hawke’s own. It’s hard to meet his eyes, but he manages to do it. They’re so brown, so alive.

“I will take care of you,” Hawke murmurs and Fenris believes it. Hawke bends down to kiss Fenris again, rougher now, more needy and wanting. Fenris doesn’t mind, he might even prefer it. It doesn’t make him feel as lost.

Hawke kisses him what feels like a small eternity without pausing for breath. When he finally does, this is all Fenris can say:

“I want you.”

More than anything, is what he doesn't dare to say.

Hawke asks: “How?”

Fenris swallows. Words feel difficult. He knows what he desires even so. He links his fingers into Hawke's own, brings his hand to his lips to kiss a knuckle.

Hawke's hands seem important. They are the only mage's hands he will ever fully trust to treat him gently.

“I want you inside of me," Fenris requests quietly.

Hawke doesn’t ask whether he is sure it's what he wants and Fenris is grateful for that.

“Okay,” Hawke answers with a nod. His smile hasn’t dimmed since Fenris first kissed him in the courtyard. He looks so incredibly happy.

“Okay,” Hawke repeats, softly to himself and reaches for the bedside drawer, presumably for oil, rummaging around before pulling out a small glass vial with a victorious grin.

“Hawke.”

“Hm?”

A smile. “Your trousers.”

Hawke looks down at himself. “Oh,” he says when he realises he’s still wearing them. He stands up and makes quick work out of it, taking them off, once again not really letting enjoy the moment, but Fenris finds himself not minding like before. His desire is growing by the minute.

Hawke is… big. Everywhere. Fenris expected that, but still it’s a little intimidating. Not that it means he wants to stop. He wouldn't. Not for anything.

Hawke leans over him again, dropping slowly his heavy, but grounding, weight on Fenris.

Fenris expects the kiss when it comes, but not the words that come afterwards.

“I love you,” Hawke whispers. He laughs a little, shaking his head, like he can't believe that Fenris is in his arms. “So much.”

It’s too much and not enough at the same time.

Hawke doesn’t seem to expect an answer, because the next thing he does is coat his fingers in the oil and slowly presses his fingers into Fenris’ hole. It hurts, just a bit, he hasn’t done this in a long while and rarely willingly, but he trusts Hawke. He wants this. He wants him.

After a while of stretching, Hawke slips in a second finger, and he feels so full already that he can’t even imagine how it will feel to have Hawke’s cock fully inside him. It will be indescribable.

Damian Hawke is a patient man. Fenris is less so.

The arousal has ignited something in him.

“More,” he says, “I need more. Hawke.”

Hawke. He will never get tired of saying that name. 

“Hawke,” he says again, voice scratched raw, but it only makes Hawke chuckle fondly.

“Patience,” he teases with that familiar mirth in his voice. He pecks the soft skin of Fenris' wrist. “I will give you what you need, don’t you worry.”

Fuck patience, Fenris thinks. 

But then again, this might be the only time he ever gets to have this. Better make it count.

To be fair, Hawke does speed things about a bit afterwards, and it isn’t long until his cock slides into Fenris, the stretch burning and he can’t help the moan that leaves his lips. He is so full. He was right. 

It does feel indescribable.

“It’s not too much?” Hawke asks, worried.

Fenris scoffs. “No.”

“I’m a little big.”

A little?

“Shut up, Hawke,” he groans when Hawke thrusts his hips forwards experimentally. 

It’s nice. More than. Better than anything he could have dreamed it would be like, when he allowed himself to think about it. Perhaps it shouldn’t surprise him— Hawke is a man unlike any other he has ever met.

“I need—“ Fenris pants. He needs a lot of things, but right now he only wants one of them. "Hawke, I need you."

Hawke knows what he wants. He curls his big hand around Fenris’ cock, his fist swallowing it entirely in his grip. Fenris moans, trashes under him in pleasure. It’s so good. Almost too good.

Hawke fucks him harder with an impatient twist of his hips, attempts to kiss him but the kiss only turns into a breath against his lips. Fenris keens loudly, feeling like he's split in half both by Hawke's cock and dwelling emotions under his rib cage.

“I love you,” Hawke says again, not afraid, never not afraid unlike Fenris. It almost hurts how tender the words are. Fenris isn’t sure what he has done to deserve someone as fundamentally good as Hawke loving him and yet he craves it even so.

He closes his eyes and buries his face into Hawke’s shoulder. If his eyes are damp, he hopes Hawke can’t tell.

His heart beats under his chest, reminding this is real. That he is real. For a moment he can belong.

"Your markings…" Hawke whispers between gasps of pleasure before stopping his thrusting entirely, sounding awed. Fenris lifts his head to see that the dark bedroom is bathed in blue light that shines from himself.

It hurts, it always does, when he uses the markings, but his desire for Hawke dulls the pain to something tolerable, ignorable.

"You're so beautiful," Hawke murmurs, the praise dropping so easily from his lips.

"Please, Hawke," Fenris says desperately, "just fuck me," he pleads, and Hawke does as he asks, always so willing to provide for those he loves.

It’s over far too soon.

When he comes, there are images, words that fill his mind. Of a life he doesn’t recognise but knows it’s his own. There is a woman with red hair and he knows it’s his sister and he knows her name (Varania Varania Varania Va--), and there is his mother. Danarius. There are tear-streaked faces, there is love and sorrow, promises of freedom. Pain. So much pain. Something sweet in his mouth, like a fruit. A kiss on his cheek. His name.

Leto.

---

Hawke sleeps.

Fenris waits.

He thinks about leaving without saying a word, he thinks about a cowardly escape. He even thinks about leaving Kirkwall. But Hawke deserves better, so much better than that. Hawke who was his for just a moment. Hawke who says he loves him and means it-- Fenris knows he does even if Fenris has never been worthy of him. He never will be.

It is better this way.

“Fenris,” Hawke says behind him. His voice is still sleepy, but also concerned. Fenris closes his eyes, swallowing hard. There's a bile in the back of his throat.

Yet, this needs to be done.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

When he leaves the estate to meet the sunrise, he thinks about how he should have known someone like him was never meant for happy endings, anyway.

[spacepiratecaptainsexy]

Fenris wearing this shirt

[estelior]

Some nights Hawke can convince Fenris to stay for night

[marmett]

truly i cannot tell u the amount of times ive seen someone say they dont care for "het" ships but it was like. fenris dragonage and fhawke like. idk abt hawke bc shes whatever the player wants her to be, but fenris is a known bisexual... remember the discourse over whether shippers should use fenhawke or hawris or w/e the fuck and it was dependent on hawke's gender. i wasnt even a big fenris fan, but my god.

(and ppl are saying 911 fans or w/e the fuck are worse than dragon age fans)

[444names]

cornish names

Ahenna Ahern Ailgan Aillan Aills Alacka Angan Anger Angerman Angrok Angroway Annat Artho Atharne Barnise Bartho Belza Benive Berearne Berroc Berrock Blamban Blaskise Blewan Blian Blick Bling Blioneth Boamso Boathan Bolda Browent Bryan Burtha Cadar Cadrays Caduena Cadwen Caligh Carth Caske Caswan Caule Caulern Caulese Causcor Ceenafory Chenna Cheston Cheverry Chevise Cleja Clemetan Clensa Clian Clione Colcott Colda Coleas Colek Coley Conkish Corley Couse Cousey Credan Cunda Cundrok Curle Curlewano Curne Darton Darvosek Davil Deark DeLal DeLan DeLawells Delleja Demaitt Deres Dewenna Digha Digovean Dobelena Dober Donah Drenow Dywan Dywargon Dywas Dywast Eleago Eleargyen Elembella Ellan Ellick Ellitton Ellyne Elorth Enorne Esene Feoth Feott Fidory Gearthen Gerethick Gerley Gerthake Glena Gonine Gorgh Gorgyesil Gorne Gorowel Gorrefe Gorwannan Groca Grous Growenwyn Gworock Gwyna Gwyne Gwynwey Halen Harnenne Hawenrous Hawry Heban Hebar Hedensa Hedianch Hedicek Hedick Heleat Helyn Hennafory Hensa Howen Hydrayen Hydry Isber Iundena Iunder Iundrepel Iundrevar Jaccarthy Jagon Jamento Jengemana Jewennam Jolimo Joweebark Keartin Keigh Keigo Keigonan Keigor Keigway Kelza Kemey Kenah Kench Kenin Kenkinga Kenna Kenwin Kenwith Kerevian Keveth Kevilga Kewyn Kewynwin Kittory Laitt Lalwyn Lanch Laways Legarth Leggil Lithain Loamene Loarth Loartory Locek Lovene Lowanan Lowayen Lowenalk Mabanch Madueng Marth Mayney Meleaker Meleng Mellase Mellente Mellynt Menna Metan Methow Metto Morock Moryman Muddick Muddy Munderin Mundry Munson Munwyn Nafor Neger Negerever Negoney Newen Neweth Newlyack Odgele Odgen Odger Olven Palke Palwyn Paskan Paskin Pawalwyn Pawny Pedwen Penal Penat Pendery Pendy Penepa Pengarth Penha Penna Penows Pensonick Penter Pento Penven Perno Perris Perymash Polametho Polean Pomaitt Pomana Poogen Poove Prinice Prissa Prock Ravilimo Ravill Renvel Restin Restrossa Retheer Rethes Roddell Roddy Rosek Rosenver Rouch Rusisa Rusle Sarna Sevellow Sevias Sevory Sowello Sprena Spresto Spryfe Stecca Sterra Sterroc Surto Talegele Taleneas Talle Tallen Tamso Tease Teccary Tegill Terwan Terymaith Tippa Tippethen Tomase Tonkis Travian Treago Treagows Treagwa Treagwana Trean Treban Trebath Trebo Trecca Treccas Trecock Tredan Tredel Treder Treders Tredin Tredwurne Treers Trefenwyn Trefeth Trefuse Tregas Tregaske Tregaskis Trege Tregeal Tregeavin Tregen Treger Tregerray Treggo Treggowse Tregidgas Treglow Tregnnan Tregnney Trego Tregon Treha Trehalle Trehan Trehego Trehen Trehender Trele Trelen Trell Trella Trellick Trelligh Trello Trelyn Trelyon Trelza Tremay Tremayn Tremban Tremel Tremen Tremes Tremesan Tremether Tremo Tremp Trena Trender Trene Trengs Trenna Trenne Trenroca Trenton Trentrewa Trepry Treres Trerney Tresa Trescock Trescory Trese Tresil Tresisan Tress Tresseke Trestan Trestin Tretang Treth Tretha Tretheago Trethene Trethenna Trethevil Trett Trevain Trevaith Trevan Trevar Trevarne Trevasso Trevedick Trevedray Trevel Trevele Trevellin Treven Trevetha Trevett Trevian Trevil Trevilan Trevill Trevills Trevis Trewalwyn Trewan Treway Trewe Trewen Trewens Trewenve Trewethel Trewyner Trezza Trisan Truse Trusidden Trusle Truslen Tyana Urenat Ureveth Veppara Vepperman Vepry Veprylue Vepuse Verryana Vervorick Vosennin Voskis Vyvyana Waragwin Waravisa Wenack Wenowdel Wenowsek Wherreld Yescoe Yesiddick

[itsrattysworld]

Without Prejudice Hawri Ahmed Of The Kids Network Best Do Her Research Re Mervelee Myers She Will Not Volunteer To Sit Behind A Computer Again Act Like 24 Year Old Who Stab Salman Rushdie Exactly What She Did To Me 13/8

Without Prejudice Hawri Ahmed Of The Kids Network Best Do Her Research Re Mervelee Myers She Will Not Volunteer To Sit Behind A Computer Again Act Like 24 Year Old Who Stab Salman Rushdie Exactly What She Did To Me 13/8

[goransulaimani]

وێنەی ھاوژینی نێوان ھاوڕێ مەلا ستار و مارین مەلا بەختیار Hawri Mullah Star and Marin Mullah Bakhtiar got married زەواج هاوڕی الملا ستار ومارين ملا بختيار https://www.instagram.com/p/CezYVNGMKuI/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[privatebooth]

Parting ways

[maria-tries]

doodled these two assholes for warm up… I will always love them probably!

[razzle-dazzle-13]

Conversations Fenris and Hawke definetely had...

Fenris: How do you feel about kids? Hawke: I mean they're okay? If I saw one, I wouldn't throw a rock at it. Fenris: Why would you throw a rock at a child!? Hawke: I just said I wouldn't!

[sheyshen]

I miss these idiots so much. I guess it means it’s time to replay DA2!

[perlen-gold]

🥰 Hi my lovely friends, I’m in a sharing mood, what about you?

🌺 Tagging the marvellous @cleverblackcat​, fantastic @kourvo​, talented @aidanthecryptid​, magnificent @lethendralis-paints​, wonderful @rakshadow​ and passionate @transfenris-truther​ today!  No pressure, only fun, if you feel like it, my fabulous friends 🌺

  They came in faint tremors.

Hawke’s eyes, amber-supple and gold-warm, gleamed with a faint gilded haze. Their stealing swiftness, fingers running over darkness, raw-crept upon Fenris. Hawke’s smile bright as an oiled knife.

Hawke’s hands were cool on Fenris’ burning skin. Each knuckle, each pad of his fingers exactly like Fenris remembered it. He drew his fingertips against the ignited, tender inside of Fenris’ elbow. The stubbles of his beard brushed Fenris’ nose, the cool of his lips grazed the burning lines of Fenris’ faint lower lip. His fingertip rode over the rising and lifting muscles over Fenris’ collarbone.

Up he stared into Hawke’s radiant eyes. Each facet as he remembered it, honeyed bronze-shards gilded around copper-laced fire-fragments, a reflecting drop of polished obsidian inside, a ring of darker brown circling them, each pane glittering as a jewel’s cut turned in the light. Above, the midnight flame of Hawke’s hair, the kohl powder cut of his ink-stubbled beard.

Fenris’ hands twitched convulsively.

His sword worked in faint tremors.

The second night Fenris fell asleep – for night it was and no day coming to rescue – Hawke’s voice, the underground river leaping with the bass string’s tartness, tried to whisper into his ear in chuckling-warm, jestful-bright murmurs. Fenris woke with a stricken start to rounding laughter.

He killed it before Hawke had finished his first sentence.

By the end of the third night, Hawke’s brisk-rimmed lips tried to kiss Fenris’ neck with tearful whispers.

He wrenched their heart’s slipping softness out with his left hand.

The next night, Hawke came softly, a stray flake of snow. He sighed to him with the lips that had once, tucked under the golden warmth of a dream-ruled night, whispered to him: They say, in love, you  must not allow yourself, your whole self to be overcome by another, and here the lips had laughed in a twinkling, well, there is a first to everything, I’d say, I would not know how to love you otherwise.

This demon, Fenris killed slowly. Limb by limb. Until it was forced to resume its true guise, an excoriating animal’s gnarl crashing behind its grinning teeth, until Hawke’s gleaming eyes where ash upon the winds. Afterwards, Fenris’ pulse stroke against his skin, the faint flutter of a moth’s incessant wings against a trembling cage.

It did not stop them.

Their slinking caresses, their steps tormented his skin.

His sword came in faint tremors.

(Excerpt from Pyre)

[estelior]

Some Fenhawke for ya

[jjthebunbun]

Hit em with that 😩💦

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