RED* = SMUT | SLIGHT SMUT | LEMON | MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
ORANGE~ = FLUFF
PURPLE^ + NOT FLUFF/SMUT
ONESHOTS | SERIES
NOTHING...
HEADCANONS
CELEBRATING YOUR ANNIVERSARY~ GN! READER
SUMMARY: How they would celebrate your anniversary.
WARNINGS/TAGS: Established Relationship, Fluff, Anniversary, Kissing, Dates, Fancy Dinners, Camping
♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.
finding out their lover just gets BEAT on by literally everyone (that isn’t a main character for the inquisition) for NO reason, from psychical beating to just harassment so many random peoples are just so cruel to them
Dorian
He asks you what in Thedas you did to piss off that many people
Then he enchants you with a teensy spell that makes every attack on you rebound to the sender
It’s only effective for a few hours but it’s enough deferent to make people rethink their choices
Blackwall
He’s not unfamiliar with people picking on others
So he teaches you a few self defence moves. It’s not spells or intimidation but it’s his way
And it works! You’re able to fight back and less of an easy target
The Iron Bull
You don’t have to tell him, he over hears about it in the bar
So he starts following you around. At a distance
The next person to pick on you gets confronted with a giant qunari suddenly appearing behind you
Okay, bull and blackwall with a Qunari lover, witnessing one of their horns get broken in battle?
The Iron Bull
he doesn't make that big of a deal about it. It's happened before, they grow back
but when the two of you are finally alone in camp he meticulously cleans the wound so it doesn't get infected
he's extra careful until it starts growing back, and insists on keeping it as clean as possible
if horns don't grow back then he offers to help file it down and shape it to a less-jagged break so you don't tear every pillow you come into contact with
Blackwall
he freaks the fuck out
you have to assure him that it's fine at least five times, and even then he's guarding you more carefully after that
he's terrified it'll happen again and that it'll be his fault for not paying attention because you love your horns and he feels super guilty that it was probably his fault the first time (it wasn't)
if you need horn care afterward he'll help only if you ask. Otherwise, he backs away and gives you space, worried that you'll blame him for losing your horn
Oh! I liked that ask for Zavala and Saladin with the crystal ball eye you just did, thibk we could get that for bull and black wall? Or Dorian! Tho I notice you’re getting a lot of them lol
BAM! All three!! Nah I don't have a lot of 'em right now, I'm just procrastinating working on my ongoing writing projects/using this as a warm-up. I'm like 3/4 of the way through Chapter 4 of White Lies (so it'll be up later today) but I don't wanna finish it because I know if I do I'm gonna start chapter 5 right after sksksk
Blackwall
He panics when he finds you hold your eye in your hand and thinks you pulled out your own eye
he honestly thought that people missing an eye just wore an eyepatch like Bull
after he calms down (and you stop laughing) he asks what you're doing
if you ask for his help cleaning the prosthetic, he'll do his best but refuses to put it back in for you because he doesn't want to do it wrong and hurt you
he'll infrequently ask afterward if your prosthetic is comfortable or if you need to clean it or take it out
He doesn't mind if you take it out but he would appreciate a warning before you do
The Iron Bull
As we know, Bull is missing an eye, so when he finds you removing your prosthetic he's startled. He wasn't aware it was a prosthetic or that you could just get one of those. Even if he thinks the eye patch makes him look "cooler" he wasn't aware that a prosthetic was a possibility
he asks if you're sure you want his help to clean it because he's so big and his fingers are big, and he might break it and -
you assure him that you want his help and that you trust him. He pours every ounce of concentration into doing the best job of cleaning it
he holds your face carefully when he puts it back in, making you double-check that it fits comfortably
later when you're lying in bed, there's a tentative discussion of getting him a prosthetic as well. he wouldn't wear it as often but he wants the option
Dorian
he barely bats an eye at the prosthetic and moves to help you, scolding you that you could have asked for his help in the first place before removing it
he's seen quite a few prosthetics in Tevinter, and he's used to it. It's commonplace for Magisters to get magical ones that make it look as if they've never lost the eye at all
he's lost when it comes to cleaning it, but he'll carefully put it back in place for you.
Afterwards, he makes an effort to find the best cleaners and supplies he can so that you take extra-good care of yourself
he even gets Josephine to discreetly purchase a few books on the matter, and he would offer to enchant it for you if you so wished (but he wouldn't pressure you either way)
(Basically a reader-insert since the Inquisitor isn’t given a name nor specific physical attributes)
Shining chandeliers, long tables stacked with the finest of foods, laughter hidden behind golden masks- Blackwall was out of place. Or maybe he was exactly at home, back in Orlais, surrounded by the nobles for which he had done the unspeakable in exchange for a sack of coin. The years had surely changed his appearance, but the curious eyes of the Winter palace's guests banned him to the shadows. He could not get recognized, could not be caught, not on such a big night. Everything was in place to stop the assassination of the empress, to stop the future seen by the Inquisitor. If they succeeded, the inquisition would no doubt be raised up in many's eyes, and rewards would come with it.
Blackwall watched from a distance as the Inquisitor slid past the Hall of Heroes, racing back to Leliana to no doubt deliver some scandalous secrets. His lover had been busy this evening, attempting to make the best impression she could while taking care of task after task. He had a hard time imagining anyone not taking a liking to her, she was always beautiful, but tonight she was a sight to behold. The dress that Josephine had arranged for her fit perfectly, the corset hugging her upper body while the bottom flared out in a sea of red fabric. The jeweled brooch that pinned up her hair matched the scarlet of her dress, the jewelry around her neck dipping just low enough to draw attention towards her cleavage. This was all done with intent, of course. As an elf, the Inquisitor already bore the scorn of many without them ever even having met her, so she needed all the charm she could muster to persuade the nobles towards her. From the heated gazes he had caught glimpses of when she had turned away for a moment, he would say it was working.
Blackwall was sipping at his drink, hiding in the shadow of some statue. He could feel the scowl on his face and imagined the Inquisitor running her fingers over it like she often did. "If you're not careful, it will get stuck like that," she would say. Foolish girl, it would've gotten stuck long ago then, for one of the only times he dropped it was with her.
"Fitting right in, are you?"
He looked over as Sera tittered towards him, plate stacked with food in hand. "Figure he's not the chatty sort." For a moment, he wondered what she meant but then noticed her glancing up at the statue behind him.
"Ha ha," he sounded sarcastic. "I imagine I'm fitting in about as well as you are."
She laughed, uncaringly leaning her back against the statue. "Like I want to fit in with these noble arses. I leave it to Inky to dazzle them with her fine tits."
The wine in Blackwall's mouth turned sour at that. The thought of all these people, openly ogling what was his, made his hand ball into a fist by his side.
"Ohh," Sera mused, "So that's why you're hiding away in here? Feeling too sorry for yourself?"
His jaw tightened, biting back a response. What could he say? That she was wrong? He was hiding for far worse reasons after all. She drifted into view, standing in front of him as she shoved a pastry into her mouth. "Listen, yeah," she started, barely legible with her mouth stuffed, "if you want her alone, just tell her you found some of those Caprice coins or something, she'll follow you anywhere."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm unsure whether you should be giving this advice as her friend."
She laughed and licked off the remaining crumbs from her fingers. "Oh please, she'd have you dead on the floor within a second if you tried anything she didn't want." Her face turned serious now, one finger pointed at him, almost touching his chin. "Seriously though, try and I'll cut off your balls."
Point taken.
Sera's advice was growing more tempting with every look at the Inquisitor. She had crossed him while looking for the council of Heralds and had taken a brief pause, saying she missed him. When her hand landed on his crossed arms, warm eyes looking up with him as a smirk played at her lips, he felt himself stiffen in his pants like some Chantry boy. The effect she had on him was frankly embarrassing, and he could barely muster a response when she had asked him if he'd safe a dance for her. She'd looked disappointed when he said he didn't dance but had smiled at him before leaving regardless.
She was so close by, he could muster to go unnoticed for a bit, couldn't he? With a deep sigh, he gave in and made towards her.
The Inquisitor had curiously followed him just like Sera had predicted, keeping close behind him without drawing too much attention. When they were alone, she squeezed herself against his arm. "Some excitement after all, huh?"
That sparkle in her eyes at the promise of a challenge always put a grin on his face, the little minx. He guided her into the closed-off corridors a bit further before turning towards her. "I have to admit Inquisitor, I have no clue whether there are truly coins to be found here."
She quirked an eyebrow at that before a look of realization crossed her face. A mischievous grin followed, and Blackwall could guess where her mind had gone. "Constable Blackwall, I had expected better of you," she purred, a hand pressed to his chest.
"That is a flaw on your part, my lady," he swallowed as he looked down at the expanse of her breasts revealed by her dress. Maker, she must be the most tempting woman he had ever seen.
Her giggle drew his eyes back to her face, and she was not at all offended by his blatant staring. "I wonder what you did call me over for then?"
The way she feigned innocence was amusing, her face betraying that she knew all too well. Within a few paces, he had her backed up against a wall, her hand clinging onto his tunic as her lips parted in anticipation.
"I had to see what all these nobles were fuzzing over," he said, lips getting closer to hers till he felt her breath fan over his. "From up close."
Blackwall's hand went behind her neck, drawing her in and closing the distance between them. The kiss was instantly heated, their parted lips leaving no time for delicacy. Knowing that she had desired him just as fiercely only fanned the fire inside of him, and he pulled up her dress and hiked up one of her legs, ready to take her.
"Blackwall," the Inquisitor whimpered against his lips. "We can't." Her words made him set her leg back down gently, and she straightened out her dress with shaky hands. "I promised the duke another dance, it will be noticed if I'm away for long."
The disdain at that thought must've been written on his face because she pulled him in for a fast kiss. "I'll make it up to you, promise."
He grumbled an agreement against her lips, straightening out his own clothes, and adjusting his pants. When he looked back up at her, she was holding up a coin between two fingers, a wide grin on her face. "Guess I got my coin after all."
His hands instantly went to his pouch with coins, finding the strings slightly loosened. Before he could make a comment, she had already runoff, and for some odd reason, he missed her even more.
“Josephine will kill me if something happens to this dress,” the Inquisitor mumbled, back pressed against the railing of her balcony.
When Blackwall had requested her to put it on the night they arrived back in Skyhold, she had instantly known what his intentions were. In the Winter Palace, there had been no time to truly indulge, but they were alone now. The vision of her in that dress had plagued him the whole way home, and now he had her in front of him, no one here to disturb, he could not resist letting his calloused hands wander over her body.
Her hair was pinned up just like that night at the palace, lips a darker shade thanks to the harsh kisses he had already pressed against them. “Let’s ensure she doesn’t find out then.”
Sweet whimpers fell from her lips as he cupped her breasts, squeezing and enjoying her flesh through the thin fabric of her dress. No armor, no breast bindings. A growl build up in his throat and he didn’t attempt to hide it.
“You should wear dresses more often, my lady,” he commented, making her chuckle.
“If you find me the time to wear them, I will.”
One of his hands moved from her breasts to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. “Perhaps when this is all over.”
Even in the dim light of the candles and fireplace that shone in from her quarters, he could make out the softening in her expression. That thought pleased her, that they would still be together. It made him both happy and ache with guilt, but he pushed that down. His lovely Inquisitor was dressed up in front of him like he was some noble suitor, not the traitor he truly was, and he has yet to repay her for it.
Hand on her back staying put, Blackwall guided her back inside. Wordlessly, she broke contact and moved over to the wall next to her bed, leaning against it with a coy smile. Her back was slightly arched, drawing his eyes to her chest yet again.
“I believe we didn’t get the chance to finish last time, Ser Blackwall,” she said and lifted up the skirts of her dress just slightly.
He came to her like a dog to its master, hands instantly finding her hips. The plan had been to take it slow, but how could he possibly refuse this?
Her leg nudged against his as she raised it a bit herself. “Gods, I wanted you to take me so badly that night.”
A groan left his lips and he pressed them to her neck, sucking and biting along the length of it. “Yet you left me for that damned Duke.”
She gasped and writhed against him as he teased her neck, swallowing hard before finding her voice. “Jealous, are we?” A wicked idea crossed her mind. “Do you think he wanted to bed me as well?”
Blackwall pulled away from her neck, eyes narrowing on hers. A pleasant shiver ran down her spine as he looked down at her. “What does it matter?”
“Just curious,” she answered, trying her best not to sound too amused.
With a casual display of his strength, he moved under her skirts and picked her up, sliding her up the wall and forcing his hips between her legs. She mewled at the feeling of his bulge pressing against her heat and shifted against it unconsciously.
“You only need to wonder about me,” he growled, hand moving into her hair and jerking her head back.
Her neck was fully exposed to him and he took advantage of it, placing far harsher bites than he had before. A whispered “yes” escaped her lips, hands gripping onto his shoulders for support.
“Perhaps I should leave a mark or two,” he breathed out against her neck. “Let everyone see how holy their Herald truly is.”
Gods, she loved when he talked like this. That possessive tone of his sending heat straight to her core. “Blackwall…”
His breath fanned over her ear as he moved higher up, making her whimper. The subtle twitch of her ears didn’t escape his notice. “Look at you, so excited to get fucked. I’ve seen whores more subtle about it than you.”
The Inquisitor ground herself against him, legs desperately urging him closer. “Please.”
He smirked at her confirmation of his words. Many would think him crazy for talking to a woman as powerful as her in this manner, but he knew what she enjoyed.
As her core pressed against him, he realized a vital detail had escaped his attention. He could feel now that she was bare under her dress.
"You knew this would happen." His voice sounded strained, betraying his own lack of control.
A smirk pulled at the Inquisitor's lips. "Of course I did, you aren't exactly subtle either."
One of her hands moved to the back of his head and she shot him one more heated gaze before pulling him into a kiss. Her tongue moved against his, and he could feel the vibrations of her moans as he ground his hips into hers. He let go of her hair, preferring for both of his hands to be firmly on her ass. There was no doubt that the front of his trousers was getting stained by her juices, and his pride swelled knowing how sensitive he made his lover.
They stayed like this for a while, grinding and tasting each other, muffling each other's groans. Blackwall could imagine that they were back at the Winter palace, in that secluded corridor, and his cock twitched at the fantasy of someone catching them like that. Maker, if it hadn't been for his damned secret, he might've actually risked it.
As his mind wandered, his kiss became softer, grip on her behind loosening slightly. This caught her attention, and she broke the kiss, questioning eyes trying to search his. She called out to him as his eyes were closed, and for a second, it sounded to him like she had said his name, his real name, and he looked at her in shock.
Worry warped her features. "Is something wrong?"
As close as they were, he could feel her heart hammering in her chest, and he realized she might think he's rejecting her.
"No," he quickly denied. "I was just thinking of how lucky I am to have you, that I don't deserve this."
Her smiled returned at that, and she swatted playfully at the back of his head. "You are lucky that I don't kick you out of my quarters for not being inside me yet."
"My apologies, my lady," he chuckled. "I'll get right on that."
When he moved a hand between their bodies to move down his trousers, she watched him carefully, biting at her lip. She truly was impatient, eager to recreate how he would've taken her when he lured her away that night.
"Show me that I made the right choice," she said, attempting to bring back the fire from before.
His trousers were down now, and she swallowed a moan as his cock graced past her clit. "Right choice?"
She pressed a deceivingly sweet kiss to his cheek. "That I chose right to take you home, instead of a nobleman."
She caught glimpse of his gaze darkening before he moved fast, both hands back on her ass, holding her in place firmly. She barely got the chance to breathe before he entered her in one hard thrust, rewarding him with a choked cry. Blackwall's girth was something servants would excitedly whisper about if they had the chance, and even after all their nights together, the Inquisitor still felt her body struggling to adjust.
He felt the way her walls gripped him tightly, but he didn't give them time to relax. She had clearly wanted this to be done a certain way, and who was he to deny his lady?
It was hard to keep the extensive fabric of her skirts bundled up as he thrust into her, not allowing him to set the punishing pace he intended. "Hold them up."
It took her a moment to realize what he meant, but then she obediently picked up her skirts, holding the fabric in her trembling hands.
"Higher," he commanded. "I want to be able to see myself slide into that tight cunt."
She couldn't suppress a moan at his words, lifting the fabric higher till he twitched inside her at the sight revealed to him. He could feel how she gripped him, but to see it was a whole other pleasure. He reveled in the way her body spread open for him as he resumed his thrusting, his cock glistening with her wetness each time he pulled back.
"This is why you chose me," he grunted as he pounded into her. "No pristine noble would allow you to dirty his clothes like this. No holier-than-thou man would take you like this."
The blissed-out look on her face and the rhythmic clenching of her heat around him told him he was hitting right where she liked it, and he made sure to hold the angle. "You need me because I'm enough of a bastard to fuck you as you need."
"Blackwall!" she cried out, and he rewarded her with a sharp slap to her ass.
"That's it, let everyone hear who you belong to." He felt spurred on by his own words, landing one slap after another on her soft flesh.
Heat radiated from the spot where he hit her repeatedly, the Inquisitor a whimpering mess against him. It stung but felt so good at the same time, mixing deliciously with the pleasure of him sliding against her walls. After the tenth slap, he rubbed her ass reverently, subduing the pain with his gentle kneading. It was such a stark contrast with his sharp thrusts, making it hard to focus on either, but she felt herself drawing closer to her end regardless. She tried to seek out his lips for a kiss, but he denied her, wanting to hear every sound that left her mouth.
The way she cried out his name was like a song to him, his eyes switching from focussing on her face, to her bouncing breasts, to where she took him inside her. He fucked her with abandon, uncaring for what the future might hold. Here, she was his, and he would enjoy her fully.
"Inside," she gasped, drawing his gaze to her parted lips. "I want you to finish inside me."
He groaned her name loudly at the request, signaling that they should not, but she only angled her hips into his thrusts. "Please."
That damned word. He cursed under his breath, the steel grip he had on her behind sure to leave some marks. He should control himself, pull himself off of her, but as he watched her, it was impossible to do so. The pure pleasure written on her face made him want to fulfill the request all the more.
"My lady," he choked out in another attempt, but she shushed him with a loud moan.
Her cunt was clenching around him, and the way her body so lightly shook told him she was close. Against better judgment, Blackwall moved a hand between their bodies, seeking out her swollen clit. A few strokes were all it took for her to come apart in his arms, a pleasured scream echoing through her chambers. Feeling her come undone destroyed the last of his restraint, and he groaned her name as he spilled inside her.
Their harsh breathing was the only sound filling the room as they stayed like that, his cock still buried deep inside her. Their foreheads touched, and he pressed a gentle kiss to hers when she giggled breathlessly. "That was amazing."
He couldn't agree more, finding it hard to pull away from her. But he saw that she looked tired, the traveling from Halamshiral to Skyhold having taken its toll, and he slid out of her with a grunt. She gasped when she felt his seed spilling out of her, staining her thighs.
"The dress!" she shrieked and he swiftly put her down. It was amusing to him that that was the first worry to cross her mind.
When he turned her unstable form around, he felt the breath hitching in her throat. "Just trying to help you, my lady," he clarified, but couldn't resist teasingly whispering it into her ear.
He really did intend to get the Inquisitor out of her dress. Ambassador Montilyet was not someone you wanted to piss off, and he imagined she would not take kindly to the dress getting sullied by his cum.
His fingers worked carefully at the back of the corset top, far more gracefully than she had managed to herself. It felt nice, his fingers brushing past her naked back every so often. He was good at this. That last thought stuck with her, and she frowned slightly. He was quite good at this, wasn't he? Where a Warden would cross dresses as such, she could not imagine.
finally back to writing! here’s a Blackwall x Reader, short and sweet, exploring their dynamic together. it’s based off the word prompts [ cry ] and [ sleepy ]. i am still taking requests for this touching prompt, it’ll be a bit before i get to them but i will!
Alpine
He dares a slow brush of his thumb across your cheekbone, leaving a faint trail of the tear he wiped away. It took every once of concentration for Blackwall to steady the nerves in his hand, and to not linger longer than necessary. You try to remember the last time someone’s touched you that way.
The both of you were headed to the undercroft armory to check on some works in progress when you passed by loitering Orlesian nobility. A man in an impeccable outfit began to criticize yours beneath his breath to his companion, and while you usually ignored such behavior, today just wasn’t the day. Before you could help it, you confronted the man with a few choice words. Blackwall smirked since he always enjoyed nobility getting put in their place, but his brow furrowed when you turned away from them, face flushed and eyes wet, storming over to the door leading to your personal quarters.
Blackwall found you leaning against the wall just past the door, and quietly shuts it. He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to be here, a soldier doesn’t belong in the personal space of his leader. The sight of you crying drew out something he desperately wished to hide: he wanted to be worthy of your presence. So he trembled as he brushed your tears away, scared of you seeing right through his façade.
You soon straightened up and rubbed at your face, realizing how much of a child you must look. You’re the bloody Inquisitor, can’t be acting like this. Josephine is definitely going to hear of this and have a word with you. Your eyes eventually rest on Blackwall, who’s almost standing at attention in front of you. His gaze is timid, not the expression you thought would be on the face of someone who shares tenderness through calloused fingertips.
“Let’s go upstairs.”
He jumps a bit at the suggestion, but when you instinctively step upwards he follows.
“Of course, Inquisitor. Still need to go over some weapons specifications?”
You can’t help but chuckle at the uncertainty in his voice. “There isn’t a smithy in my bedroom, Blackwall.”
There’s a moment of silence, but you can still hear his steps behind yours. Blackwall’s mind was racing with possibilities of why you were so suddenly inviting him to your room. He couldn’t imagine that you wanted to… He gulps as the light hits against your face when you open the door to your room.
He’s never been here before, and sees it’s much nicer than anyone else’s quarters. The open view of the mountains makes Blackwall pause as he gazes out, cool alpine air brushing past his beard. The sound of heavy wood dragging against the floor catches his attention, and he scrambles to take the low wooden bench you’re lifting.
“I figured we could sit in the sun and enjoy the view.” You smile, which is thank-you enough for Blackwall. “I appreciate you escaping responsibility with me, for a little.”
The both of you sit on the bench and Blackwall relaxes now that your intent was clear and not… temptuous. A comfortable silence between you two allows the sound of the mountains settle into your senses. It isn’t long when Blackwall feels your head resting against his shoulder.
His body stiffens, but you don’t seem to move or say anything. He thanks the Maker for his beard because it’s hiding a light flush. It takes him a while before he looks over to you, and finds you sleeping, exhaling a rhythm of light breaths.
