#but Soap thinks he is being all coy and alluring

[auspicioustidings]

Now I pretty much missed the whole thing, but to be clear Barracks Bunny is a derogatory term which is why it's hot in the context of dark content? It's also very hot to imagine the likes of Soap actively claiming the term because he loves that it's a degrading way to call him a slut? Like you are interacting with darkfic, what's not clicking?

Anyway, Gaz gets Soap for secret santa and gets him a playboy bunny outfit as a gag gift only to be gagged when he swans in wearing it with no shame what so ever. This man has been slutting about and not one of his team has called him on it or teased him or said something horribly mean, what's a man gotta do to get some degradation around here? He's trying his fucking best to get one of them to say something mean and they're all just letting him live his life and being supporting? Christ he hopes the discomfort of the thong trying to bisect him and the time he took to make one of the bunny ears flop over just so isn't a waste and they actually take the damn bait for once.

[pervysagewisdom]

Blue Night

FanFic / BTS 🔞

Explicit

Minjoon in part 1

Vmin in part 2

Jimin gets a surprise visitor in the shower one night which turns into fun times for them both, until jealousy comes into play.

(Smut inciting incident that leads to plot later)

Part 1

When they were first starting out, it hadn’t been unusual for two or three of the members of BTS to shower together. There were seven of them sharing one bathroom, after all, and sometimes there simply wasn’t enough time to wait your turn or enough hot water to go around. Modesty was not an option. It hadn’t been a sexual thing, not for most of them, not at first, but over time some of them had come to enjoy the time together with one or more of the other members in the shower in a more intimate way. Jimin had found in particular he enjoyed shower sex with Namjoon. They’d been at it for a while now, off and on, unplanned. It was just something that sometimes...happened. Jimin didn’t expect it, neither did Namjoon, but he always enjoyed it when it did.

Jimin was rinsing the conditioner from his hair when the bathroom door opened. He didn’t bother to look to see who it was. They usually only locked the door when using the toilet in case someone needed something. He heard rustling and then the door to the shower opened. Apparently someone /did/ want something. He continued to rinse his hair, head thrown back, eyes closed, just to be coy and let whoever it was enjoy looking at him as the water fell down his body. Who would it be this time? Taehyung? Seokjin?

“Mm...” he said seductively, “This shower is so nice and hot. Too bad it’s so lonely in here.”

“How about some company then?” A body pressed up against his and large hands touched his slim waist and slid around to his back. Ah. Namjoon! He opened his eyes and placed his hands on Namjoon’s shoulders. So broad! So handsome. Too bad he didn’t seem to know it.

“Hm. That depends. Are you dirty?” Jimin teased. Why did wet skin feel so very nice? Jimin wiggled against him.

“As dirty as you want me to be.” Jimin laughed. That was a joke in itself. Namjoon wasn’t the naughty one, Jimin was. Namjoon was sweet and gentle and easily embarrassed. Jimin only pretended to be. “Why are you laughing?” Namjoon asked. Ah, embarrassed. Jimin ran his hands over Namjoon’s muscular chest to appease him. He didn’t want him to leave. He suddenly thought this was a fantastic idea.

Ignoring the question he said, “Let’s see if I can help you get clean since you’re so very dirty.” He reached down between them with one hand and stroked Namjoon to attention. It didn’t take much effort. He liked Namjoon’s size. It was just right and hit all the right spots. He gave him his best sexy smile as he saw his breathing start to speed up. Namjoon was so easy to arouse. He leaned forward and flicked one of his nipples with his tongue, circling it while looking up at him, and then took it between his lips. He knew exactly how alluring he looked while he did it. That was part of what Jimin enjoyed about sex, the seduction, being desired, feeling beautiful and wanted.

Namjoon’s voice was suddenly deep. “Jimin...” it was a question, a request. Namjoon wasn’t good at asking for what he wanted during sex, but Jimin could usually figure it out. Anyhow, this was something they had practiced for years. He knew what to do and he knew when Namjoon was ready.

He removed his mouth, making a purposeful pop! sound as he did, licked his lips just for effect, and turned around in his arms. Namjoon’s mouth was on his neck as one hand slid down between Jimin’s cheeks. He spread his legs a bit more and felt a finger enter him. He was ready himself now, his own erection firm. He didn’t need a lot of preparation these days. Sometimes he preferred it without. A little burn turned into pleasure soon enough. But still, Namjoon was careful and considerate, sometimes more so than Jimin preferred. He would get impatient when he took too long. He lets Namjoon warm him up for a minute longer before whining. “I’m ready, I’m ready, Hyung!”

That did the trick. A moment later the fingers were gone and he felt Namjoon’s firmness enter him, stretching just enough but not too much, filling him slowly. It drove him crazy! Taehyung knew how to slap into Jimin in a way that made him crazy in a different way. This was just torture!

He pushed back against him suddenly so that Namjoon was fully inside him. Namjoon grunted, but he was used to Jimin’s impatience. He obliged and started pumping into him. The water made wet, sucking sounds as their skin slapped together.

Namjoon had one strong arm around Jimin’s chest, holding him in place, and the other on his hip to guide his movement. His hand stroked Jimin’s chest, brushing over his small, pert nipple, and then he rolled it between his fingers, sending a little shock of pleasure through him. Now they were getting somewhere! Jimin started to breathe hard, loving the feeling of being filled and fucked and desired.

And in the end this was why he continued to let this happen, because he liked sex and Namjoon knew just how to touch him and his cock was just the right size. And anyhow, didn’t everyone like to be admired?

Namjoon adjusted and went deeper, still moving too slowly for Jimin’s liking, but it hit the spot, literally, making him gasp and arch his back and neck, his head thrown back. He felt his knees give out and reached out, planting his hands on the shower wall to brace himself to keep from collapsing into a puddle.

Namjoon moved both his hands to Jimin’s hips now that he was braced, and increased the speed and force of his thrusts. Jimin couldn’t help but cry out. He managed to get one of his hands around his own cock without falling and quickly released. He felt melted, like he would collapse and swirl down the drain with the water. The last few minutes of Namjoon’s thrusts made his head light and then finally he came as well.

He pulled Jimin back against him again, both arms around him, and kissed his head and then his neck, as they both caught their breath. Jimin giggled.

“Now I’m dirty again.”

“I’ll clean you.” He sounded genuinely sorry to have caused Jimin to be dirty. He was so silly that way. Namjoon carefully pulled out with a little grunt then got the sponge, soaped it up, and ever so tenderly cleaned him front and back. Jimin giggled more and squirmed.

“You don’t have to do that. Ah! Sensitive!”

“Sorry.” Namjoon smiled at him, a charming crooked smile. Jimin reached up and touched his jaw and gave him a little kiss on the lips. They weren’t the sort to make out or anything, they just both enjoyed a little shower fun. They loved each other, but they weren’t in love. At least Jimin didn’t think they were. He wasn’t really sure what Namjoon was thinking when he looked at him like that. It started to make him feel embarrassed.

“If Hobi yells at us for using all the hot water I’m telling him it’s your fault.” Jimin said, then gave his hair one more rinse before stepping out and reaching for a towel. His legs were still jelly, but it felt good.

“He’ll know it was you.” Namjoon washed his hair, taking heed and going faster than he usually would.

“It isn’t my fault you seduced me!” He mocked shock as he patted himself dry.

“It’s your fault you’re so beautiful.” Now how could he tease Namjoon when he said such sweet things?

“Fine. Then we’ll tell him it was Seokjin.”

“That’ll work.”

Jimin wrapped the towel around his waist, blew Namjoon a little kiss, and left him to finish on his own. He peeked out the door to see if anyone was around and had been listening. Nothing any of them did was a secret, but sometimes he just didn’t want to deal with the knowing looks. The coast looked clear. He went to his room and closed the door.

“Have a nice shower?” He was started by the voice and jumped and then immediately laughed. It was just Tae, sitting on his bed, one leg crossed over the other. “That was a long one this time.”

“Mm. Yes. Very relaxing.” He went to his vanity and sat. He picked up a jar of lotion to start his nightly skincare routine. “Are you timing my showers?” Was it his imagination or did Taehyung sound agitated? That was unusual.

“You two better not have used up all the hot water.”

“Were you hoping to join in?” He joked, but it felt flat. Jimin glanced at Tae through the mirror of his vanity. Definitely agitated. But over what? It wasn’t unusual for members to still shower together from time to time even though there was no need anymore. Was it because it had been with Namjoon? Why would that matter? Was it because they had.../Oh/...

Taehyung stood and walked up behind Jimin. There was something cold about his demeanor that Jimin wasn’t sure he liked.

“No.” Taehyung slid his hands down the front of Jimin’s bare chest until his head rested on his shoulder. He looked at Jimin through the mirror. “I prefer you all to myself.”

Jimin felt himself blush. He wanted to make a joke, but none came out. He met Taehyung’s eyes in the mirror and he understood. He wasn’t agitated or cold, he was jealous and aroused. Jimin felt himself quicken again. This, he found, he did like.

Link to Part 2:

https://pervysagewisdom.tumblr.com/post/649442312658796544/blue-night

[ridethewindsoftime]

Markings

Perrin watched as the comb slid easily through the locks of Moiraine’s hair, rolling over the waves; he watched as she rose her hand up and down, slow and easy, over and over again until he lost count. She wore a long tunic, falling well passed her thighs, and it hung loose around her. There were moments when she rose to grasped at dark brown locks and the tunic would slip down her shoulder, revealing pale skin which practically shimmered under the long, faint bars of sunlight streaming through the window.

A flush rose to his cheeks when he realized that he was staring – though he had already became acquainted with the woman’s figure, he was always memorized by her. And he did not know if he was scared or not by that.

Shifting a little, the mattress creaking and groaning beneath him, Perrin was all to well aware of his nudity beneath the heavy sheets. The inn’s room was cool, the morning air rolling through the window dainty, chilling the warmth on his cheeks. It was not too small, enough to fit a wide enough bed that Perrin was not uncomfortable with. A small wooden chair was propped up against the far side of the room, near the door, and a dresser was nestled near to the bed, at its right, with a circular mirror edged with darkish steel, resting on top it. It was there where Moriaine sit, humming; and where Perrin watched, quietly.

There was a certain beauty seeing the Aes Sedai enthralled in mundane matters, even when it was as simple as brushing hair. A smile formed at his lips, and something warm shifted in his heart, and something warm shifted somewhere lower, as well.

“You’re staring, again,” said Moriaine, tearing Perrin away from his thoughts with a voice as clear as summer air, and as sharp as winter’s bite. Yet there was a smile on her lips, the slightest twerk upward, and a gentle light glimmered within those brownish eyes, touched with the hints of amber. Even the smoothness of her features, which often reminded him so much of the Power, only seem to a lit those eyes, to burn gentle with words unspoken.

The warmth washed over him like watery flame. Tearing his eyes away from the pearly pale skin, which Moiriane made no effort to fix, he coughed into his hand. The bed groaned low when he shifted again, and the warmth from before did not ebb away as he wished. It seemed it was more incline to grow stronger. You thick-headed fool, he thought. Words were hard to get passed his heavy tongue, seemingly weighed like leaden. “I’m, uh, sorry.” Another cough raked out of his throat.

From the corner of his eye, Perrin saw her continue combing her hair, fingers slipping through locks as it followed the comb. He could practically feel the softness against his palm, and his fingers itched to have it within his hold again. He had always wanted to be gentle, but there was something in Moiriane, the soft and sharp inhale of breath, that called for him to not try to hide his strength. She said she could take it, he reminded himself, as his blush crawled down his neck and over his chest. He still remembered the sting of her nails when they dug deep through his curling chest-hair and into his harden skin. She could take it.

“No need to apologize, Perrin.” Though her eyes were focused on the comb, he knew that she was staring at him. One of her many talents that unnerved him, far more then even a Trolloc.  Moiriane did not speak afterwards, only returning to humming.

His head turned without his knowledge, and he could not help but stare once more at the woman, so small, yet so much larger than her stature gave her credit for. A force and presence that could shake the foundations of mountains. Her long, dark brown rolled down to the small of her back, and locks framed her face to fall near her collarbone, where bluish-purple marks riddled over her neck. The sight made his blush even stronger.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “Should you not try to get rid of those?”

Her eyes rested upon him, seeing him and within him, though the coolness of the stare was hampered by the warmth that danced deep within, like a budding fire of gold and crimson. “Rid of what?”

“Don’t try to play coy,” he said, gruffly – as gruff as he could with his face surely being as red as Rand’s hair. “You know what I’m talking about, Moiraine.”

She tilted her head a little to the side, though her smile never wavered. It was almost teasing...almost. “I do not know what you’re talking about, Perrin. Speak plainly.” The statement was as much as a command, touched with a hint of tease near unfamiliar to him.

“Light, woman, the marks!” He throw his arm over his head as he rested against the puffed feather pillows. Lifting it only a little, he frowned. “Should you not try to at least hide them?”

Absentmindedly, Moiriane traced her finger over one. Perrin knew there was nothing absentminded about it. There was nothing the woman did that she did not think twenty-five steps ahead of, and weighed each one perfectly. “I rather like them,” said Moiriane, as much to herself as to him. “Perhaps I will keep them, only for a little while.” Her full lips tugged into an alluring smile, revealing perfect white teeth, as shimmering as a spring sun, and more captivating.

He shot up from the bed. “Don’t play games,” he grunted, eyes narrowing at the woman.

“I’m not.” The smile never left her lips, nor did the glimmer within her eyes.

Rising from bed, Perrin strode toward the woman, for a moment the awarness of his lack of small clothes forgotten. Distinctively, he saw the flicker of Moiriane’s gaze from between his legs, to his chest, and then back up to his eyes. It could had been little more than a second or two, and he ignored it, as much as he could; he had never felt being so warm before. Perhaps, saved certain situations. He shook his head to clear his thoughts of images revolving around Moiriane, in even less clothing that she wore now.

The Aes Sedai stared up at him, her body half-turned, and the comb in her right hand. The smile never shifted, never lost its meaning that eluded Perrin. In a way, her smile only seemed to grow, more wicked, more sweet.

For a few moments, he merely stood there, standing above the short woman, staring down at those eyes touched with amber. His fingers itched to pull back a strand of loose brown hair; they itched to wrap around that small waist of hers. It was not impossible; he had done it before, when the woman was laid fully opened for him on the bed…

Stop it, he growled at himself.

“They’ll have to go, before anyway sees you,” he warned. A small part of him wished it did not have to go, that it would stay and remind anyone who dared looked at Moiriane that she was his, now and always. But he pushed that feeling down. There was danger leaving them open for the world to see, he knew. But she did look beautiful like that, marked by him, figure draped in his shirt. She smelt of rose-scented soap.

She stood as gracefully as the sun rose from the eastern horizon. “And what of these?” asked Moiriane in a voice no louder than the patter of water in a creek, her fingers splaying over his chest, lightly rising up his neck. A finger traced over his skin, cool and yet warm. He was sure that his face was burning, and that she could very well see it. Her marks, you fool! Moiriane was not one to leave another unattended when it came down to it.

Once more, like so many times, he was lost with words. “I..um...you’ll...you’ll have to be rid of them as well.”

“Yet they are so beautiful, aren’t they?” That smile of hers turned to a devious smirk. “I have half-a-mind to keep them where they are.” She look toward the side, toward the window where the wind came soft and sweet. “And we have more than enough time...” Her eyes returned to his, smoldering with that fire, growing rapid. “Perhaps we can add a bit more.” Trailing her finger slowly down, he hissed as he felt her nail gently scratch him. Down and down it went, through the curls on his skin, and even further down they went. He gasped as her other hand reached up for his hair, tugging him down, and gasped when he felt those cool hands wrap around him. Her lips were little more than a grass-strand away. “Shall we, Perrin?”

And he could only remember the growl that formed at the back of his throat, his hands wrapping around her waist easily, and lifting. Lifiting, and the warmth, softness of Moiraine’s legs wrapping about his waist as he crashed their lips together in a hungry, searing kiss that stroke the blood hot within him.

Damn Aes Sedai and their Power.

[missblissy]

May I have number 50 from the cotton candy prompts with Arthur?? Thanks baby

Cotton Candy Fluff Writing Prompts [pt. 3/8]

Send me a number 1 thru 50 for a word that I’ll use to write a fluffy headcanon, drabble, or starter. Send 🔄  for a random number instead. WARNING: some prompts listed are NSFW. (SOURCE)

50. — getting away from it all

((Bet, gotchu babes, enjoy the story

It was far too fucking early in the god damn morning for this much ruckus to be waking you up from your peaceful sleep. The same went for Arthur. You rolled over, away from the loud banging and crashes of whatever the hell was going on outside your tent. You curled up beside Arthur, burying your face into his bare chest while he instinctively wrapped an arm around you.

The sun was barely leaking inside the tent. This had been the third morning that you’ve been woken up by someone doing their chores. You groaned when you suddenly remember you had chores to do too.

“Arthur,” You muttered into his chest. He smelled like dirt and the faintest smell of lilacs. He really loved smelling like a fruity woman didn’t he? He just had to have those bars of soap that smelled like springtime flowers. You weren’t surprised though, because he did love flowers and he loved giving them to you.

Your sleepy cowboy groaned as well, letting out a sour sigh and pulled you closer, “Just a few more minutes,” His voice was in that sexy rough tone he only had in the morning.

Honestly, you would have loved to go back to sleep, but you were a much lighter sleeper than Arthur. The man could sleep through anything! Colem O’driscoll could show up any second and start shooting up the place and Arthur would be fast asleep like the big baby he was. 

“Arthur, I have to get up-”

“No! Noooo!” He grabbed ahold of you so tight that you started having trouble to breathe. He whined and cried, “No, (Y/N). Please, just a few more minutes and I’ll get up. I swear.” You knew that was a lie. He’d fall right back to sleep and he’d trap you there in his arms. Not that you wanted to be there, but you’d rather just get up and start the day.

You pried him off you, ignoring his protests and gave his forehead a light kiss. He begged for another one and like always, you gave in. Arthur laid there in your shared and skinny bed, watching you get dressed. You kept your back to him, which he didn’t mind. Your ass looked just as perfect and good as it always did, and it was by far his favorite part of your features.

“We should do something later,” Arthur said after he yawned. You were surprised that he was still even awake. Maybe he was going to get up after all?

“Like what?” You slipped your hands into each sleeve of your shirt, then started buttoning it up from the bottom up.

Arthur rolled out of bed, just nude as you were a few seconds ago. He threw on a pair of pants and said, “I don’t know,” He mumbled it out so all the words got stuck together, “Maybe we can... I don’t know, go to town? Get a hotel for the night and sleep in for once?”

You mulled it over, “Sure,” You finally said, “I’d love to do that,” You smiled at him wide, walking over to finishing the buttons he had left on his shirt, “It’s a date.” The two of you shared a quick kiss before departing. You both had a very long day ahead of you. ________________________________________________

How many hours did you slave away today? From dawn to dusk, mostly. The sun was already setting and you had nearly finished all your chores. You took the camp inventory, you went and got the needed supplies, you unloaded the supplies and put them away, you washed the dishes from breakfast and fed all the horses. 

You were busy helping Pearson with tonight’s dinner, you were by the pot, string the stew slowly and taking in the alluring smell of food. There was a sudden presence on your head, you looked up as Arthur plotted his hat down on your hair. There was a smile on his face, you hadn’t seen since this morning. He must have been away on that stagecoach job you heard Hosea talking about earlier.

“Busy?” He asked, gazing down at you with a fondness only you knew.

You had to gaze back, making sure Pearson was busy, “Not really,” You dropped the oversized spoon back into the pot, “Just cooking.” You took Arthur’s hat odd and held it in your hands, returning his smile, “Why?”

He snuck a little closer to you, he smelled like gun powder and cigarettes. He leaned down to meet your heigh and stole a kiss, “Let’s get out of here,” There was a twinkle in his eyes, begging you to say yes.

Pressing your lips together into a thin line, then smiling wide you played coy, “I don’t knooow...” You trailed off, then got on your tiptoes to put his hat back on his head, “I’m a little busy, I’ve got so much to do,” You didn’t have anything to do, but you wanted to hear him beg.

Arthur gave you this harmless glare, “Really now?” He put his hands on his belt, standing tall and he looked around, “Doesn’t look like there is anything to do. What’s got you so busy, miss?” 

You giggled at his little attempts at flirting. You felt bashful as your cheeks started to heat up, “You know,” You dragged on your words, “This and that,” You took a step closer to Arthur and put your finger on his chest, “What’s got you wanting to get out of here?”

It was always fun to flirt with him, to be coy and distance while being close and intimate at the same time. You could see Arthur’s brain working up a reply as he stood there as firm as a wall. You glanced around, keen on not letting the other see you two flirting so much. You’d be in a storm of teasing if anyone caught you too.

“I’d love to show such a pretty lady a night on the town,” Arthur loosely grabbed your hand at his chest, the brought it up to his lips for a quick kiss, “Take you out for a real dinner,” You both shared a glance at the pot of stew, “Maybe sleep in a real bed?” God that all sounded so nice. You wanted to keep up your game for a bit longer though.

It wasn’t easy to step away from him, but you did so slowly and only a few by a few inches, “Oh gosh, that all sounds so nice. You’d do that for me?”

Arthur wasn’t going to let you play this game and slip between his fingers. You riled him up and with an evil little smirk, you step away again when he got closer. You were ready to sprint away and make him chase you but he was too quick and caught you in his arms. Trapped against his chest and in his arms, Arthur looked down on you with his own evil smirk, “I’d do anything for you, anything you’d like,” He got close your ear, you felt his beard tickle your check and neck, “Anything.” 

You were all hot and bothered now, just by that one action. You wiggled in his arms, “You’re the devil, Arthur Morgan.” His grip on you loosened.

“You’re just as devilish, (Y/N) (L/N),” He was right to some extent. You weren’t innocent either, standing there give him that look, that smirk that told him he’d have to work for his prize.

Well, you were convinced, you looked at him and stepped away while grabbing his hand and holding it tight, “Come on then, Mister Morgan, let’s go out on this date you want so bad.”

The sweet sound of his low chuckle made your heart scream as the two of you walked over to your horses while holding hands. Like the gentleman he was, he helped you on your horse, then got on his own. You set off for Valentine, enjoying the peacefulness of the ride there. You were so happy to get away from the camp for the first time in weeks. Especially with Arthur. Alone... With Arthur.

The ride was short, you were thankful for that. Arthur had been so kind as to buy a room and a bath for the night. He told you to head on over to the bathroom, he’d meet you there after he bought something from across the street at the store.

Walking down the hallway, you could hear others through the thin walls. Many people here had the same idea as you. You found the bath and stripped down immediately and jumped into the hot and steam tub. The water washed away all the dirt that started to cling to your skin. It felt so nice to soak. Just as you reached the peak of bath glory, the door opened and Arthur let himself in.

“Well, howdy mister,” You slid down under the bubble, being sure to cover your bits and smiled at Arthur, “Are you here to help me? How much do you cost?”

He laughed at that while shutting the door, “I’m all yours, for free, and as long as you want,” It didn’t take him very long to wave you over to make room, and climb into the tub. The water splashed up and the tub overflowed with an extra person in it. Arthur sat with his back to the rim and he pulled you over between his legs so that your back was to his chest.

You scooted down, lowering yourself into the water and wiggled while giggling. Arthur quickly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back, “Where do you think you're going?” he playfully growled. You could lean your head back right under his chin, and looked up with a grin.

“No where! Just getting comfy,” You riggled in his arms and unhooked his hands around you, “You aren’t the most comfortable seat, you know?” He knew.

The two of you shared more chuckles. You reached forward towards the side table and grabbed a bar of soap, “Do you mind?”

“Not at all, my darling,”

It was nice. Arthur’s hands were smooth and rough at the same time. He was gentle with the bar of soap and his hands going over your skin. The warm water was refreshing. You wished you could bathe every day, maybe someday you’d have a house all your own with its own bathroom. You loved it, and you loved that you could get away and do this with Arthur. The two of you rarely got enough time to really enjoy each other’s company. The gang was more important than your relationship some days. It was straining and hard, so you were extremely grateful to get this time alone with Arthur.

The bath was perfect, it was very intimate, bathing each other and stealing kisses and bites every now and then. He was a devilish man. He’d nip your neck, hard enough to leave a mark and for you to squeal out.

“Arthur!” You whisper yelled. He just gave you this look that said I didn’t do that while grinning wildly. He’d do it again a few seconds later, this time biting even harder and right in the crook of your neck and shoulder. 

This time you spun around, facing him as you sat on your knees, “You tryna fight? Huh!?” Still, he just gave you that cheeky grin.

“Maybe,” Oh damn him! 

You lunged forward, going right for his own neck while your hands pressed against his chest and held him in place. Oh, how he tried to fight it, but you were too quick. Your teeth latched onto his skin, right in that sweet spot below his ear. You bite nice and hard, hoping to leave a purple spot on neck. Water splashed out of the tub and soaked the floor.

Arthur let out a growl and snaked his arms around your waist and brought you closer. His low thunder growl sent chills up your spine. He was much stronger than you and used that to his advantage. He held you down in place, pulled himself away, “Woman! You watch yourself!”

You were face to face, inches apart. You grinned, then lift your eyebrows, making a puppy dog look, “Or what?”

That sparked his interest and cause lightning bolts to shoot through his entire body. Arthur gave you this nasty, nasty look, “Get up,” He said, pushing you off him, “Get the fuck up and get that fucking room upstairs before I destroy you here right now.” Ooooh you got to him. You could tell. 

You bit your lip and played along, “Okay,” You stood up, making sure you did so slowly so Arthur could enjoy the show. He watched as the water rolled off your skin, making you glow in the lantern light. Every curve, every feature stuck out to him and he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

When you got out of the tub, he leaned over the rim and smacked your ass as hard as he could, “Hurry up,” His voice was low like the rumble of a waterfall, “Don’t keep me waiting now,”

You yipped out at the sound of the crisp smack he gave you. Your rear end stung a little and left your skin tingling, “Why don’t you make me?” You looked over your shoulder at him with that same puppy dog look.

Oh good god, you did it again. You knew every button to push to get him going and all riled up. You hurried out of the bathroom, wearing one of the hotel robes that they offered. Before you left the bathroom, you were sure to give Arthur one more dirty look, sticking your tongue out at him in a sexy way that said use me.

God this was nice. A short vacation, yes, but a much-needed one. You couldn’t wait for Arthur to join you upstairs. The night had only just started. Thank god, you were so happy to finally get away from all the work of the camp. Finally, you could unwind and sleep in and honestly, fuck the shit out of your cowboy sweetheart. What perfect way to end the day.

[halfblood-fiend]

“Oh, don’t mind me. Just enjoying the view.” or “Well, well. My night just got better.” Both?

Good news is: I used both. Bad news is: I didn’t even get to the smut yet when this was supposed to be a nsfw prompt.

EDIT: Now with a title and fully edited and tagged, lmao

Too Tired For This Shit

Some (maybe one or two) of you might notice that Breme Mac Tir is my Warden. Yes, you’re right. But in her worldstate she will also be my Inquisitor and when I was figuring out who she’d romance (Cullen, of course, crossing my mind because I’m nothing if not predictable) I decided that Iron Bull would be an absolutely glorious contrast because Breme has a lil secret: she’s my asexual OC. Since exploring myself, I’ve explored a lot with Breme and now she’s very near and dear to my heart. :3

Words: 2,683 words

Rating: Teen and up

Warning: there’s a naked lady, not much else yet

Breme wanted a bath. Desperately. She’d thought of little else over the course of the long day. Ever since she rode back into Skyhold. Ever since she had been sidetracked and yanked in every which direction from the moment she dismounted. She could feel the grime grating against her skin underneath the armor, felt the grime as she wiped her face. Breme was miserable but she never had the time.

As she trudged away from the War Room late in the evening, she hardly had the energy to be excited over the prospect of bathing anymore. She’d have to climb to her quarters in the tallest tower. She’d have to ring for the staff. They’d have to move her tub from her closet, boil enough water for her, bring it back up to her, then—Flames! Maybe at this point, she should just towel the worst of the dirt off her skin with the little washbasin on her dresser. It would be faster albeit less satisfying. Then, at least, she could fall into bed and get a full night’s rest before the hectic day started all over again tomorrow. After the weeks of travel, sleep in a real bed sounded better than anything. If it was worth the trouble, she could always call for a bath on the morrow.

Breme had all but decided she was going to be lazy tonight after all, forgo comfort for sleep. It took all her concentration to not fall over as she climbed the steps. She was making the right choice.

She smelled it before her head cleared the railing—the springy scent of rosemary lingering with mint and sweet honeysuckle—and then spied the blessed sight over the rails. Her large claw-footed tub stood in the center of the room, filled with steaming water. A stack of fluffy white towels sat on her bed, a neatly folded note atop them. Beside it was her bath salts and a sponge, waiting for her to finally use them after what felt like forever.

Breme half ran to it and snatched the parchment up—who had done this? Was it the Iron Bull? Upon the paper was a slim, elegant script that was definitely not her lover’s looping scrawl. After trading letters for ten years, she knew it all too well.

               You deserve this, my dear. Enjoy.

Laying the note aside, Breme chewed her lip, a wave of guilt washing over her. Her father was many despicable things, but he seemed to always be there when she needed him most. Loghain must have been listening to her griping all the way to Skyhold. He must have found some way to coordinate with her advisors so the water would still be hot when she returned from their meeting. He went out of his way to do a sweet thing for her…Maybe she was too hard on him. She made a sheepish mental note to thank Loghain later and try to be kinder to him while he stayed with her.

But, Maker’s breath, he was right. She did deserve this. She stripped without another thought and threw her soiled riding clothes in a frumpy pile on the floor.

Breme poured her salts and oils into the still steaming water and when she reached an arm in to stir it, she shivered, a small moan escaping her. This would feel Maker sent. She eased one leg in and then another, grinning as gooseflesh rose across her skin. It was blessedly hot and soothing and Breme wished to savor each delicious moment.

Until the blasted bedroom door opened and closed with a hard snap.

Breme froze, eyes darting to the towels she’d left five feet away on the fucking bed, much too far out of her reach. Why hadn’t she grabbed one to keep near her? Stupid!

And who the fuck was coming after her now?!

As the heavy footsteps made their way up the stairs, Breme made the snap decision to dash for the towels. Hopping awkwardly from the tub, skidding dangerously on the stone floor, she made it only two steps when a deep voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Well, well,” the Iron Bull croaked, voice low, humming and husky. “My night just got better.” Breme’s face snapped to the stairs and she beamed. He threw her a lazy grin, his chin propped in his arms folded over the banister. Light danced in his eye and made her blush but Breme didn’t look away as his greedy gaze roved over her body. She dropped her outstretched hand, forgetting the towel entirely.

“You should know better than to enter a lady’s quarters without knocking,” she told him with a coy smile. They both knew the shyness was only skin deep, Breme was bold, bolder when he was there.

“I’ll have to remember that next time I want to enter a lady’s room, but you, Kadan, are no lady,” he rumbled with laughter. “Why don’t you go ahead and carry on as if I wasn’t here? Don’t mind me. I’ll just be enjoying the view.”

Breme laughed and went back to stir her water. She made sure to bend over and give an extra little shake of her ass for him.

The Iron Bull sucked a long breath between his teeth and exhaled slow. Fighting for control, she hoped. Breme smirked. She could hear the hitch in his breathing, practically feel his desire in the air like she was one wrong move from being whisked to the bed and taken. That was the way she always liked it, even if The Iron Bull would never do anything to her without her explicit permission, without her doing something first.

That basal need for sex was never strong for Breme, always variable, usually unnecessary, but tonight…tonight she decided she did want that little extra. For Bull.

“Care to join me?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. Breme gave another shake of her hips that she hoped was alluring.

“Better not. I can’t be held responsible for what I might do to you. I’ve got a long list of fantasies and your daddy wouldn’t like a single thing on it. I’m not about to piss him off.”

Breme couldn’t stop the sulk that crossed her face. “Who would tell hiiii—” Her question broke off into a moan as she lowered herself into the tub. Maker, fuck, Andraste above, the water felt so damn good! Exhaustion melted off her in the dingy rivulets that tracked over her skin and dripped away the tension. She shivered and took a deep breath before sinking her whole head beneath the surface for a moment to slick her short black hair back.

“Feel good?” The Iron Bull asked, the echo of laughter warm on his lips as his boots clacked on the stones.

“Like nothing you’d ever imagine.”

A large hand captured her face and tilted it back. His lips seized hers in a hard kiss that stole Breme’s breath and sparked a fire that made her warmer than the water ever could.

The Iron Bull pulled away and smirked at her, the corner of his eye crinkling. “I think you underestimate my imagination.”

“I think you should show me,” Breme said with a wink and pointed at the soap and sponge on the bed.

He looked startled for a moment as he passed her what she wanted. The ever-uncertain part of her reared its ugly head and she wondered if she had she just made a mistake.

“When you say ‘show’ you…?”

Blushing a little, Breme busied herself with controlling the bottle of liquid that wanted nothing better than empty all its contents and go for a swim.

Why did she say that? How could she explain? This was why she had always preferred being alone. Keeping to herself was easier than having to explain again and again how she, someone who didn’t care for sex, would suddenly and inexplicably want it. Just because. As if not wanting sex all the time was inconceivable.

They had discussed her…peculiarity before. She had to after he had appeared in her room inviting her to “ride The Bull” and she had accepted because…well, because he was there if Breme was being honest with herself. At that exact moment, she had sex because having sex was simpler than turning him down or explaining her real attitude towards the deed. Afterward, she told him that wasn’t normal for her; not to expect it as the norm.

Breme had told him there were days when she would have sex and days she wouldn’t. Days she’d rather cuddle; days she’d rather tease. Days she may want it; days she’d be happier giving than taking. The Iron Bull, for his part, had shrugged and accepted it all. “You have your terms, I have mine. I think if you’re really interested, Breme, we can both get what we want,” he had said. And Breme had tentatively agreed. Though that dark voice in the back of her mind told her this would end quickly--just as Leliana’s fling had ended quickly. Yet to her surprise, it didn’t. The Iron Bull indeed gave her what she craved in companionship and in turn, Breme let him tie her up when she was feeling it, never needing to utter that strange word, “katoh.”

But her years had taught her to still be afraid, to still second guess herself. “Yesterday you said you didn’t want sex but today you do??” She was always ready for the accusation, the sting of irate words from someone who would simply never understand. It was exhausting in and of itself.

The Iron Bull reached over her and took the would-be escapee from her hand and she felt a chill drip on the top of her head as he poured soap on it for her. His fingers kneaded the liquid into a lather and Breme closed her eyes as he worked. She wondered not for the first time at how gentle he was being. How careful and controlled did the giant man have to be not to tear her ear off or injure her neck? With obvious care like he showed her, why did she continue to worry he would be annoyed with her…oddness?

“You’ve had a long day, Kadan,” he rumbled. “Are you sure? You know that I can get a little…”

“Crazy?”

“I was going to say ‘enthusiastic,’ but I’m touched to know you think so highly of me.”

Breme snorted as his soapy fingers moved to her neck, massaging out the tension there. “Well, you were the one implying you would tattle on me to my father earlier so…” He gave her shoulders a good squeeze and a little groan escaped her.

“I would do no such thing! I would never compromise being able to do this.” One of his hands reached into the water and he pinched Breme’s nipple, causing her to jump and slap his arm. Water sloshed out of the tub and The Iron Bull just laughed. The throaty sound of it washed over Breme and made her swell with happiness. His damn laugh was contagious and soon she was giggling right along with him. “Rinse, before you get soap in your eyes.”

Doing as she was told, Breme submerged herself and ran her fingers through her hair until it felt clean. When she emerged, Breme barely had time to take a breath before Bull was over her, kissing her again. This time he was fierce, tongue sliding against hers with urgency like he was trying to take something from her. Heat curled in her stomach, dull at first but kindling fast until he tore himself away from her with a grunt.

“Sorry,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “You look so good with the water running off you like that. And I can still smell the dragon’s blood. You drank more recently, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Breme laughed, “something like last week. Does the smell linger that long?”

The Iron Bull buried his face in the curve of her neck and took a deep breath. His arms propped on the tub as he kneeled behind her, the fingers of one hand tracing lazy strokes over her bare thigh.

“Oh yeah, it does,” The Iron Bull sighed, nipping at Breme’s throat. “I love it.”

Breme reached up and touched his cheek with her hand, leaning into him for a moment. “Bull, earlier, I meant that–tonight at least–I feel like doing…something w-with you… It might just be a tonight only thing, of course. It just sort of seems like a good thing to do…right now, that is…” She sounded stupid, she realized, feeling the heat rise into her cheeks.

“Oh, no, no. Yeah, of course, I get that part, Kadan,” Bull rushed as if he hadn’t noticed her discomfort at all. He pulled away from Breme’s neck and rested his chin on her head. “The part I was unsure about was how you wanted me to show you. Am I describing everything I imagine? Or, if we were doing everything I imagine, I think you should hurry because we have to get started as soon as possible. I do have a very long list.”

Breme sniggered and smacked his arm again. “Just put soap on that sponge for me so I can get out of this bath and kick your ass.” She wanted to act as though she were annoyed but inwardly her heart was bursting to many times its size. Breme had doubted for nothing, she realized, and she had to tell herself so over and over again. Bull knew, he remembered, he didn’t ask questions, simply…accepted her, as he had since the beginning, as he likely would for as long as this arrangement went on. Perhaps one day she’d even be used to it.

“Ooh, I like ‘em with a little fight,” he said, the hand on her thigh squeezing for a moment before he moved to comply.

They enjoyed the other’s company while Breme finished bathing. Breme filled Bull in on the worst of her adventures in the Dales (“That sucks but the place sounds gorgeous, Kadan. Maybe next time Cullen won’t need to deploy the Chargers and I can go with you to see it myself.”) and the tense ride home with her irritable father and the newly recruited ex-Chevalier, Michel de Chevin (“Ha! I would’ve loved to have been there. I bet Loghain had a few things to say about that!) then Bull regaled the newest move the Inquisition had made against the Venatori (“It was great! You should have seen how many there were; it was 5 to one! I ran in and chopped this Vint’s head right off with one swing--it was glorious!). Breme bathed in contentment, even though Bull liked to dip his hands in the water and pinch her when she wasn’t looking. She got her revenge, splashing him enough that he looked like he could have been bathing himself. And the kisses. He covered her with kisses. In reality, it had only been a few weeks since they’d seen each other but it felt like entire Ages longer, and The Iron Bull kissed Breme like he couldn’t get enough of her. And Maker, she had missed him.

When she was finished, she wrung the sponge out several times and tossed it aside. “Towel?” Breme asked sweetly as she stood up, careful not to slip.

She looked up and—whip—Breme got a face-full of towel.

“Finally,” she heard The Iron Bull say before he wrapped a second towel tightly around her body and lifted her out of the tub and onto his shoulder.

“Hey!” Breme protested, muffled by fluffy linen. She cried out as Bull suddenly tossed her and she landed on the bed with a soft whuff.

The Iron Bull pulled the towel from her head, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re beautiful, Kadan, but you talk too much.”

“Ohhhh I’m gonna get you for that—”

His grin turned impish, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “You can try.”

This is def getting a second part with some real smut I stg