#thanks hollyand for the sweet and spicy prompt! 😉

[pikapeppa]

Hi there Pikapeppa! I saw your DA Day prompts post and I thought I'd send you one in case it fires any inspiration! From the 250 Erotic prompts, I pick Number 7: From Behind -- I'd LOVE a Carver/Merrill fic, but if that doesn't spark joy then I'd be happy for a Fenris/Female Hawke fic. Thanks so much!

Carver/Merrill, you say? I have never written these two babes together, but how can I say no to the Patron Saint of this adorable ship? 🥰🙏

Pika's Dragon Age Day drabbles, prompt fill #1:

Carver/Merrill, NSFW, ~2200 words. Prompt: From Behind.

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Everyone thinks that Merrill is sweet, and Carver thinks that this is ridiculous.

This isn’t to say that Carver thinks she isn't sweet; it’s not that at all. Of course Merrill is sweet. In fact, she might just be the sweetest girl — woman, not girl, she’s a woman — that he's ever met in his life. But here’s the thing: Merrill isn’t just sweet. She’s not just the adorable and absentminded little elf who doesn’t know how to recognize pickpockets and who gets lost in people’s gardens in Hightown.

Merrill is dangerous. She might be tiny, but Carver has seen her fighting, and her Dalish magic packs a real punch. She’s also smart — smart in ways that Carver doesn’t fully understand. He’s watched her working on her magic stuff before, mumbling to herself as she reads her complicated spellbooks and talks to his sister about magic and spells and all that mage-y sort of stuff, and… all right, fine, maybe he doesn’t know what they’re talking about more than half the time. But he’s picked up enough about magic during his life to know that the stuff they’re talking about is really quite advanced, and only someone really smart like Merrill would be able to discuss advanced magical theory like that.

She’s not just dangerous and smart, though. She’s also earnest and loyal and funny, and she’s… Maker, she’s so incredibly pretty with her big green eyes — not that that’s the most important thing about her at all. But there are so many sides of Merrill that other people don’t seem to see, and when Carver hears Isabela and his sister just talking about how sweet Merrill is, it makes him want to vomit.

But on top of all of that, on top of her intelligence and her confidence and her kindness, there’s another side of Merrill that other people don’t see. There’s a side of her that’s mischievous and coy — a side of her that Carver has had the huge pleasure of getting to know now that she finally sees him as a man and not just as ‘Hawke’s little brother’. And if Carver is being totally honest, it’s a side of her that he feels very smug about other people not being able to see at all.

Everyone thinks that Merrill is sweet. What they don’t realize is just how… well, how spicy Merrill can be. And it’s this spicy side of Merrill that’s on Carver’s mind as he makes his way to the alienage to visit her one afternoon.

The first thing he notices when he gets to her house is that the door is ajar. This alone isn’t a huge reason to be worried; it’s not uncommon that Merrill forgets to close her door. But she’s been robbed before by vagrants who take advantage of her open door to steal blankets and food, and Carver is instantly on the alert for the possibility that this has happened again.

He cautiously edges into her house. “Merrill?” he calls.

“Back here!” her cheerful voice calls back.

He relaxes and firmly closes the door, then makes his way toward the bedroom where her voice was hailing from. “Hello,” he says. “I was wondering if…” He trails off as he spots her. She’s on her knees and elbows on the bedroom floor with a selection of books and parchment spread out around her. She’s clearly in the midst of studying something, and Carver doesn’t bother to wonder why she’s on the floor instead of at the table; he doesn’t bother to think much of anything at all, in fact, because all of his attention is on her bum.

Merrill’s bum is in the air. In this position on her elbows and knees, her round little bottom is in the air, and the unwittingly-provocative pose sends his mind straight into the gutter. She’s fully dressed and she’s clearly doing something important, but all Carver can think about is the idea of Merrill in this same pose — but fully and entirely naked. All he can think about is a nude Merrill on her knees, her pearly skin exposed and her rounded bum inviting his hands and his hips to press against her, and in less than five seconds flat, Carver’s cock is rock-hard.

He swallows hard. His cheeks are burning with embarrassment at how quickly he got excited by something that clearly wasn’t meant to excite him at all, and all he can do now is hope she won’t turn around and see him looking like an overeager twelve-year-old…

And it’s too late. She’s looking over her shoulder at him, and her face is lit with a smile. “Carver!” she chirps. “What a lovely surprise! What are you doing here?”

He swallows again. Maker, his mouth is so bloody dry. “I…” Shit, he can’t remember words. He had words that he was going to say, suave and manly words to ask if she was in the mood to make love, but he doesn’t remember what those words were, not when she’s on her elbows and knees with her pretty little bum in the air.

Her eyes go wide, and she pushes herself upright to sit back on her heels. “Carver, are you all right? You look like you have a fever.”

He shakes his head. “No,” he croaks. “Nope, no fever, not me.”

“What’s the matter, then?” she says. “You look like someone hit you in the face with a frying pan!”

He offers her a sheepish smile. “I, um, I do feel a little bit like that’s what’s happened.”

If possible, her big green eyes widen even more. “Is that what happened? I saw a man carrying a frying man this morning, you know, and I was wondering if he was going to be using it properly or for some other funny reason.” She peers at him. “You don’t look like you have a bruise, though.”

“Er, n-no,” he stutters. “There was… no actual frying pan, no.” He clears throat and tugs his collar, wishing that it wasn’t quite so warm in her cozy little house.

He shifts from foot to foot, praying that his cock will calm down and stop being such an obnoxious distraction. Then, to his surprise, Merrill smiles. “Did I miss something dirty?” she asks.

His face goes red-hot with shame. “Wha— no!” he lies. “No no, it — nothing dirty. I just, um, thought I’d come by to, er, visit you, that’s all.” He closes his mouth to stop himself from lying to her any more like a dirty horrible liar.

Merrill studies him silently for another moment. Then, to his surprise, a slow smile lights her gamine face.

With her back still facing him, she slowly lowers herself down to her elbows once more — so slowly that it can only be intentional. By the time she’s on her elbows once more, Carver feels like his entire body is going to melt with lust.

Merrill props her chin on her hands and looks at him over her shoulder. “Are you sure I didn’t miss something dirty?” she asks.

He gapes at her for a moment, completely thrown off by how sexy she is. Her spine is arched like a cat’s, and her pert little bum is lifted like she wants him to stare, and that smile on her face — that lovely sweet and spicy little smile…

It happens before he has time to think about it. One second, he’s staring at her like the idiot that everyone in Kirkwall seems to think he is. The next second, he’s on his knees behind her, sliding his hands up her hips and tugging on her leather leggings to pull them down. Her leggings are bunched down around her knees now and he’s tugging her smallclothes down too, and — Maker save him, she’s wet already.

A rush of saliva floods his mouth. He slips his fingers between her legs, his big brutish fingers moving clumsily through the slickness of her folds, but she doesn’t seem to think his fingers are clumsy at all. She’s making that little noise she makes when they’re doing something dirty, that breathy little mewling noise that Carver likes more than any sound he’s ever heard, and she’s rocking back to meet him, rocking her hips to rub her wetness against his fingers — Maker save him he’s so hard…

“Carver, please,” she mewls.

He can’t resist. He doesn’t want to resist. He fumbles with his belt, undoing it with his big stupid clumsy fingers while the blood pounds in his ears and in his cock. Then Merrill is turning around to face him and cradling his cheeks in her hands — mm yes she’s kissing him, her lips slanting hungrily over his as her nimble little fingers pull open his belt and ah Merrill please her hand is on his cock—

She breaks from his kiss and strokes him. “You’ve got such a lovely big sword,” she pants.

He bursts out a breathless laugh. “Please don’t m-make fun of me, mm…”

She giggles and kisses him and continues to stroke his cock, and he’s gasping into her lips and thrusting into her hand, moaning into her mouth, her sweet and spicy mouth, his lovely Merrill—

She suddenly releases him and turns around, planting herself on her elbows and knees once more, and Carver doesn’t hesitate. He flips up the hem of her long tunic and stares at her bottom, plants his palm on her ass, smooths his hand reverently over her alabaster skin…

He takes hold of her hips and thrusts into her, and the sound she makes almost makes him come on the spot. It’s a wild mewling cry of pure feral pleasure, and as Carver gasps and hilts himself inside of her again and again, he listens blissfully to that beautiful mewling cry. That beautiful sound that makes him feel so wanted, wanted and needed in ways that no one else has ever really wanted him, but Merrill does. She sees him as a man, as more than just another Hawke, and the feeling of being really seen by someone as smart and determined and sexy as Merrill feels so good. It feels so good to be seen by her and wanted by her, to have her petite body in his hands and her heat surrounding him and squeezing him as he pumps into her with a dizzying sort of excitement — yes, it feels so good: it feels so good, so good, Maker please, Merrill, it feels so good—

He bursts inside of her, a frenzied burst of pure ecstasy, and the sounds he’s hearing now are rough and guttural cries of his own as he empties himself inside of her in a series of hard and desperate thrusts. When his orgasm finally settles out, he releases her hips, then drapes himself over her back with a sigh.

He wraps one arm around her waist in a hug and presses his cheek to her spine. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I — was this rude? I just came bursting in on you while you were working…”

“You really did come bursting in, didn’t you?” she replies.

He lifts his cheek from her back and blinks at her. “Are you… did you mean that in a dirty way?”

She giggles and carefully wiggles her way out of his arms. “Isabela’s been helping me practice being dirty,” she says earnestly as she peels her leggings and smallclothes off. “She told me that I should get down on my knees like this to make you think naughty things, and it worked!”

“She… Isabela told you to do this?” Carver croaked. What was he supposed to think about this? Should he be furious or thankful that Isabela was getting involved in his and Merrill’s love life? He honestly couldn’t decide.

“Yes, she did,” Merrill says brightly. “I told her I wasn’t sure it would work because maybe you’d just think I was looking for a spanking, but I’m happy you got the right idea.”

A sudden image enters his mind: Merrill naked on her elbows and knees, asking Carver to spank her…

Bloody Maker’s mercy, his face is going hot again. Merrill peers at him, then covers her mouth. “Oh dear. I missed something dirty again, didn’t I?”

He stares stupidly at her for a moment. Then, without quite meaning to, he laughs.

She smiles back at him, and his heart thumps at how unbelievably beautiful she is. He shuffles close to her and takes her hand. “I like you so much,” he declares.

She laughs and smooths her palm over his chest. “You’re so sweet,” she chirps, and she kisses him on the lips.

Carver blissfully strokes her neck as he returns her kiss. Everyone thinks that Merrill is sweet, and honestly, they’re not wrong. But she’s so much more than just a sweet Dalish elf who makes friends with kittens and drops marbles into Isabela’s boots. She’s funny and playful and sexy, determined and dangerous and kind, and she makes Carver feel seen in a way that he’s never felt seen before.

Merrill is so much more than sweet, and Carver adores every side of her.