I would like “say my name” for Dale/Loki, please. Extra challenge? 500 words or less =D

480 words. NSFW.

She had wanted to be angry, still wants to be angry, but her need overrides it. The whispery touch of his magic around her wrists is a comfort, as is the harsh press of his body holding her up.

Breath rattling in her ear, he thrusts into her. His strokes are punishing, drawn out. They steal her breath each time his hips crash against hers, only to wind her tighter on every slow, dragging retreat. Her heels press against his legs, nails clawing at the air where she’s bound.

The thunk of her head against the wall draws a chuckle, even as he mouths at her throat. A hint of teeth on her vulnerable skin sends a thrill through her, thighs tightening against his hips and cunt clenching around him. His rhythm stutters.

“Well,” he breathes.

His fingers trail teasingly upward from her sides to replace his magic at her wrists. Their lips meet briefly before he pulls back. Warm, harsh breaths mingle in the space between them as their eyes lock. She leans forward and catches his bottom lip, teeth digging in hard enough to draw blood on a human. A shiver runs through her as his pace quickens.

“I wonder–”

“Stop talking,” she gasps.

He gathers her arms in one hand. The other scratches down her shoulder, long red marks left in its wake. A whine escapes her as he pays the same rough attention to her breast, the nail scraping across her nipple just this side of painful. While her attention is distracted, he adjusts his position so that his thrusts hit that spot inside her. A litany of prayers and curses falls from her lips.

“Wrong god.”

She’s going to kill him.

His mouth replaces his hand, lips sealing around the already sensitive bud. Whatever nonsense she’s murmuring is cut off when he bites down, an embarrassingly high squeak filling the air.

“Wrong. God,” he growls against her breast, laughter lurking at the edge of the admonition. “I might let you come, if you can get it right.”

She bucks against him, forcing him deeper. His breath hitches and he freezes, but only for a second. He grasps her waist and slams their hips together. The breath is knocked from her lungs. It’s not enough, not enough.

“Say my name,” he murmurs.

“Please.”

Her hands are finally free, but it comes with a slap to her clit. Her nails claw at his shoulders. Every breath is a groan, her toes curling and sparks shooting up her spine.

“Say it.”

Oh, G– Loki! Please!”

His kiss invades every one of her senses. It all blurs until there’s only him and his fingers circling her clit and his growl to let go as he pounds into her. He swallows her cries as her walls clamp around him and his own invocation of her name whispers across her lips.

Scenario Prompts

“awake without them” for Flynn & Dorian, please :D

I love these two. Thank you for asking about them.

It’s far too early for anyone to be awake, especially Dorian. But, finding his quarters still and mage-less, he pulls on trousers and sets off for the library. Halfway there, he realizes he’s struggling with his tunic because it’s not his at all.

Which is how he ends up in Dorian’s nook, shirtless and barefoot, in the middle of the night.

Soft caws accompany the occasional page turn as he approaches the table. Dorian’s hair flops across his forehead, its mussed state a testament to their shared pleasure from hours earlier. The lone candle worries Flynn. If he hasn’t lit more, something is consuming his thoughts.

“Dorian?”

He receives a slight head tilt in his direction, though those grey eyes remain fixed on the open tome.

“I woke up and you weren’t there. Isn’t it a little early for research?”

“We’re missing something,” Dorian mutters. “Some … key or … weakness. I’ll not send you off to him unprepared.”

The way his chest squeezes is how Flynn imagines getting crushed under a boulder would feel. He steps behind the chair, leaning forward and nuzzling against Dorian’s neck. It’s a successful gamble. Dorian’s hands fall away, allowing him to close the book and push it away. There’s a sigh and a hissed Tevene curse before he relaxes into the touch.

“We’ll deal with it tomorrow. For now, come back to bed,” Flynn whispers, kissing the skin that always smells – even if faintly – of exotic spices.

“Amatus,” Dorian sighs.

“Tomorrow.”

Dorian clasps his hand and raises its marked surface to his own lips.

“Tomorrow,” he agrees.

Scenario Prompts

Hi. I would like to see Sidni catching Cullen singing, please.

Here you go! I hope it’s alright.

The bitter breeze ruffles her hair and stings her cheeks, but she doesn’t care. Face turned toward the winter sun, she’s found a moment of peace. Here she is neither Inquisitor, nor Parsha, just Sidni.

Whoever that is.

The sound of carefree movement and the murmur of a voice reaches her, faint at first then growing in volume as the intruder comes up her staircase. Fingers tighten around the cold dragon bone blade at her hip, muscles tensed as she creeps toward the edge of the roof.

She pauses, catching a familiar timbre.

Shifting so she can dangle from the edge – just in case – she’s greeted with an upside down view of her quarters. And the man currently shedding his snow dusted coat as he sings quietly. It’s a Satinalia song, one she’s heard countless versions of, but it sounds different coming from his throat. The angles of his face are relaxed, skin pinked from the wind, and a small smile plays on his lips.

Her heart twists painfully as she’s reminded how beautiful he is when he’s let his guard down. The addition of his singing only adds to the image in front of her. The fact that she’s allowed to see it …

Her feet land silently as she swings down to the balcony. He continues setting his armor on the stand in the corner, unaware that she stands in the doorway and watches, smiling at the melody he weaves in the otherwise quiet room.

It takes time for him to notice her. As he crosses to her desk, seeking out the fresh batch of cocoa she’s hidden there, she starts forming a plan to work on his awareness. He has the bottle in his hand, visibly starting and raising it as a weapon when he sees her. His voice dies away, eyes wide and body stanced for a fight.

“You should sing more often,” she grins.

“Maker’s breath, Sidni! Were you on the roof again?”

Her laugh echoes across Skyhold through the open doors. He refuses her requests to continue his song until hours later, when she’s plied him with hot cocoa and kisses in front of the fireplace.

Scenario Prompts

More Scenarios

drdevorakwrites:

nadias-bitch:

Send in a scenario and which characters you want to see!

Fluff

  • tangled in bed
  • comforting touches
  • wearing their clothes
  • candy or pastries
  • matching outfits
  • caught singing
  • too early, too late
  • cloud watching
  • alone together
  • once more, twice more, forever
  • warmth
  • gifts and treasures
  • counting blessing
  • tied together
  • the future

Angst

  • reminders
  • awake without them
  • words never said
  • ‘your pain is mine’
  • meant to be, too far apart
  • taken too soon
  • no heart
  • mistakes
  • hurts to be close
  • accidental goodbyes
  • the last kiss
  • never again
  • your fault, my fault
  • too blind to see
  • forced goodbyes

Smut

  • clothes on
  • all about you
  • melting
  • too much, too little, too late
  • watching
  • hate you but love the sex
  • take it all
  • hopeful
  • first time for everything
  • accidental
  • say my name
  • counting
  • tell me what to do
  • rough
  • let them hear

Send me a pairing and a prompt!

thebakerstboyskeeper:

For @kagetsukai. Sorry it’s not as fluffy as you wanted…

There are nights she wakes and her current life is lost to her. Sometimes it’s a strange flash of shadows and light. Other times it’s the way the sheet has tangled around a limb. It disturbs the dormant paranoia, the need to be over aware, brings them roaring back to life.

And it’s always when she’s shifted away from Cullen in her sleep.

Before … before, it took hours to remind herself. Especially when she didn’t trust these people. Now, she has something to ground her.

The softness of actual bedding begins to calm her heart. Leftover heat from a nearby body soothes her breathing. Callused, slightly cool fingers under her own brings her back to reality.

They’ve never spoken of it, but Cullen just knows. There must be something different in her touch after these episodes. The sleepy slits of his eyes glitter in the light of the moons as he stirs, feeling her hand on his. His movements are slow, drawn out so she can see where he’s going before he makes the actual motion.

The weight of his head in her lap is enough. She tangles her fingers in his hair, teasing the curls free of the concoction he uses. He wraps his arms around her leg, kissing her bare thigh. There is no heat behind it, just reassurance. Blonde strands slipping through her grasp, breaths slowly syncing in the cool air let in from his nonexistent roof … they chase her metaphorical demons away.

Here, she is safe and protected. In the darkness of the night, Cullen gives her a life free of danger, at least for a few moments. She wonders if he knows how much she loves him for it. She curls over him, kisses his cheek and nose and jaw.

They settle next to each other, laying on their stomachs. Their hands are linked in the gap between them. He holds her gaze as if to reassure her that this is real, that she’s maybe – just maybe – escaped that old life.

For @kagetsukai. Sorry it’s not as fluffy as you wanted…

There are nights she wakes and her current life is lost to her. Sometimes it’s a strange flash of shadows and light. Other times it’s the way the sheet has tangled around a limb. It disturbs the dormant paranoia, the need to be over aware, brings them roaring back to life.

And it’s always when she’s shifted away from Cullen in her sleep.

Before … before, it took hours to remind herself. Especially when she didn’t trust these people. Now, she has something to ground her.

The softness of actual bedding begins to calm her heart. Leftover heat from a nearby body soothes her breathing. Callused, slightly cool fingers under her own brings her back to reality.

They’ve never spoken of it, but Cullen just knows. There must be something different in her touch after these episodes. The sleepy slits of his eyes glitter in the light of the moons as he stirs, feeling her hand on his. His movements are slow, drawn out so she can see where he’s going before he makes the actual motion.

The weight of his head in her lap is enough. She tangles her fingers in his hair, teasing the curls free of the concoction he uses. He wraps his arms around her leg, kissing her bare thigh. There is no heat behind it, just reassurance. Blonde strands slipping through her grasp, breaths slowly syncing in the cool air let in from his nonexistent roof … they chase her metaphorical demons away.

Here, she is safe and protected. In the darkness of the night, Cullen gives her a life free of danger, at least for a few moments. She wonders if he knows how much she loves him for it. She curls over him, kisses his cheek and nose and jaw.

They settle next to each other, laying on their stomachs. Their hands are linked in the gap between them. He holds her gaze as if to reassure her that this is real, that she’s maybe – just maybe – escaped that old life.

20. things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear – if you could, please :D Cullen/Sidni of course :)

20. Things You Said That I Wasn’t Meant to Hear

“So, the boss, huh?”

She freezes when she hears Bull’s voice over the early evening din.

“No! N-no. I mean, what about her?”

Her eyes flick to Varric sitting on the second floor. He winks, turning back to watching the commander reluctantly sharing a drink with the Qunari. Grip tightening on the one mug in her grasp, she suddenly understands.

"I don’t need that second drink, Cabot.”

"Nah, it’s almost full, Inquisitor. Just a moment.”

Stone’s sake, these fools and their insistence on humiliating her!

She taps her coin impatiently against the bar top. Bull is chuckling, but she can’t hear his words over a sudden bout of laughter.

"Am I that obvious?” comes Cullen’s voice, rather forlorn. “Nothing will come of it.”

Air catches in her throat, her heart gasping to a stop.

When Varric looks back at the bar, he finds an empty spot, an abandoned drink, and a confused Cabot.

On the other side of Skyhold, Sidni curses each of her supposed friends for trying to make her believe in the impossible.

Drabble Prompts

Six on the prompts for cullen and sidni? :)

6. Things You Said Under the Stars and In the Grass

His armor clanks as he settles next to her. She hasn’t so much as flinched, her knives left hidden in her plainclothes. The murmurs of their traveling party fade with the firelight several paces behind him.

You sound like a herd of brontos when you’re in your armor, Cullen.

Starlight illuminates hints of her face; the bottom line of her tattoo, a corner of her lips, the arch of a brow over dark eyes. Her eyes turn to her oldest friends when she’s troubled.

It takes effort, but he manages to carefully pry her fingers from where they’re woven in the blades of grass and hold them between his own.

“But why can’t we let Corypheus have Orlais?”

He huffs the laugh he’s been holding back all night.

“If I had an answer, we’d be on our way back to Skyhold this instant.”

She squeezes his hand.. “Is my commander advising against my plan?”

“You commander sees the value of your plan,” he smiles. “However, we both know–”

“I know,” she sighs. “I know.”

Drabble Prompts