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falcatas · 7 days ago

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Now I want to hear about your da ocs, protagonists or no.

Bonus question- how many of them meet, and don't they like each other?

Aawwwmm you want me yapping? I’ll happily do it! :)

Soo, firstly we have Garret Hawke, who is the default male Hawke. He’s a two-handed weapon warrior (Vanguard/Reaver). His best friends are Varric (who shares the same vibes) and Aveline (whose opposite attitude makes them complement each other really well). His obsession and soft spot is Anders.

He understands mages, but he tries to navigate the divided waters of Kirkwall without taking sides if possible. He fails horribly, of course. He’s a purple Hawke, but there’s always tension between some red and blue choices. In the end forgiving Anders and helping the mages and Bethany, it becomes really clear that his sarcastic attitude is just a shield. He sacrifices himself for the Inquisition later.

I wanted him to have blue eyes and used some mods on my frist runs, but nowadays I’m happy with his honey-colored eyes. I tried to recreate him in DAV, but I completely failed. I don’t want to use that messy hair people usually go for with their Veilguard Hawkes. I need more time to remade him.

Nooooooooooseeeeeeeee

He is, of course, the most hurt of my OCs, but he tries so hard. He deserves lots of hugs and kisses.

Next, we have Evelyn Trevelyan (yes, I like using the preset names). She’s a mage, a Knight-enchanter. She describes herself as a very unskilled mage, which is why she trained and trained to become a good fighter, using her magic to control the battlefield and summon weapons. My Inquisitor relies heavily on her physical skills.

My HC is that this mage was so terrified of the whispers of demons that she asked an old, disillusioned Templar dame to train her as a knight. The old Templar no longer fully believed in the Order, and granted the little mage's request. Trevelyan doesn’t like the Chantry but doesn’t fully trust other mages either. She believes there are good Templars out there, struggling under the weight of the Chantry’s dogma, because her mentor was reasonable and protective (her mentor died because of an abomination). At the same time, Evelyn is Andrastrian, even if she never liked the Chantry much. In Inquisition she sides with the mages anyways.

I consider her the perfect person to be the Inquisitor because she’s just a leaf on the wind, she knows it, and accepts it. Her best friends are Cassandra and Varric, but she’s deeply isolated inside. She hasn’t romanced anyone yet (I tried with Cullen, but I just couldn’t).

She feels guilty for abandoning Hawke in the Fade, and from that point on she wants to know if he is still alive and reach out to him. I think they could become best friends over time (if he can come back from the Fade, of course). She wanted to stop Solas, even though they were kind of friends. But duty always comes first. I think she’s very sad at some point, but she’s strong enough to carry others on her shoulders. She prefers direct approaches to problems, is well-mannered, very quiet, and can be stubborn as hell.

This is her in DAI and in the DAV version.

Rook's name is Turvi Ingellvar. He’s a mage, a necromancer, a Mourn Watcher. He’s very proud of the Grand Necropolis and was found and raised by Vorgoth themself. He has a mischievous personality but is a good-hearted and idealistic person. He absolutely adores playing with wisps. Being raised in Nevarra gave him a significant advantage in magical knowledge. He’s a very impressive and powerful mage, but he tries to follow the rules, or at least the ones that make sense, even if he can be a little chaotic sometimes.

He loves silly jokes, even when others think he’s a little dumb, a little naïve, and a little annoying (yes, he totally makes the “handy” joke and can laugh about it for hours).

He loves Lace Harding with all his heart and can be a bit possessive about it (there are some minor arguments with Taash because of that). Harding is also his best friend. He admires Emmrich and follows his guidance in almost everything.

He’s a cheerful fellow and, strangely, an Andrastian, so it doesn’t take him long to trust the Inquisitor (though he’s a little jealous about Harding). He respected and admired Varric after the War of the Banners (I HC the dwarf helped him then), and he really hates Solas. Still, he is creative, resourceful, and uses enemies when necessary. He often solves problems in unexpected, sometimes borderline absurd ways.

The Isle of Gods, the Fade prison, being tricked by Solas, and Varric’s death were all hard lessons for him. He lost Harding, so by the end of DAV, he’s a much more bitter person. (My HC is that maybe she doesn’t really die, or maybe she becomes something else due to her powers... So Rook’s romantic future might not be as doomed as he believes.)He’s the youngest of the OCs, and I think he and the Warden will complement each other really well once they finally meet. They both share a chaotic nature, though Rook is the morally good guy, and the Warden leans more into the morally grey.

And yes, he’s a slightly modified preset elf.

And last but not least, my favorite DA OC: the Warden Natia Brosca. A commoner dwarf, castless, dual-wielding rogue, a duelist with high dexterity. Brosca is everything that’s good in Thedas, for me. She can be cruel when she needs to be, and the kindest person alive when it is needed. She can be a lowlife traitor or a brilliant knight in shining plate armor. The thing is she will try to do what’s right, but survival is her top priority. So yes, she would make a deal with the Devil to live (spoiler: she did). That said, she’s not completely morally lost, because she is capable of making the same deal to save her friends.

Brosca is rude but sharply observant, and cunning. She approaches things with common sense (she was an outcast in Orzammar after all). For example, she knows Bhelen is the bad guy, but she still puts him on the throne knowing that’s the safest path for Rica and little Endrin. But at the same time, she destroyed the Anvil of the Void to keep Bhelen’s power in check.

On the surface, she takes advantage of how humans tend to treat her with misplaced tenderness, seeing her as little and sweet (by human and elven standards, she looks “cute,” though she’s not particularly attractive or sturdy by dwarven preferences 😂).

She romances Alistair and remains his mistress, but her adventures often pull her far from the King of Ferelden and her obsession with finding a cure for the Blight takes most of her energy. She would never stand in the way of Alistair seeking a wife or an heir (even though he never quite succeeds, maybe because he’s still thinking of a certain dwarf). She loves him anyway and returns to him now and then. But for Brosca, friendship matters more than love (Leske... oh, the loss of Leske!).

I’ve always been obsessed with the trope of two soulmates whose fates are intricately and deeply tied, but not in a romantic way. That’s Brosca and Nathaniel for me. Howe is so important in her life that even Alistair fades in comparison sometimes. (Of course, we’re talking about very different kinds of love and relationships, aren’t we?) Nathe and Nat are usually side by side, doing the nastiest jobs a Grey Warden could do.

Brosca admired the Wardens because of Duncan, but she never fully trusted the Order. Alongside her “commando unit” (Sigrun, Nathaniel, Oghren, Dog and Ser Pounce-a-lot) they took on morally questionable missions and made incredible discoveries deep in the Deep Roads, while the Inquisition and Rook’s stories happened elsewhere. These quests will be crucial someday in the fight against the Executors (will we ever get a new Dragon Age? Who knows... but I can dream.)

Anders and Ser Pounce-a-lot are friends Brosca wants to protect, but Anders eventually runs away due to Justice. Sigrun acts as a contrast to Brosca: while Sigrun chose the Legion of the Dead, Brosca refused to give up on improving her life. She keeps Sigrun close to remind herself to be resilient. Oghren is the friend who proves that no one is beyond saving. And they always share a laugh about the whims of humans and elves (those weak and pity creatures). Nathaniel reminds her that even those born from wickedness can grow into the noblest, gentlest people.

She and Justice clashed often… which is one of the reasons Anders left. My headcanon is that Velanna died protecting Vigil’s Keep (and it destroyed Nathaniel). As you can see, Brosca feels closer to the Awakening crew than to the Origins companions.

As for the other OCs: once they all meet, the Warden won’t like Hawke’s refusal to accept himself or Trevelyan forcing herself to meet others' expectations. She will like Ingellvar the most, though she will think he still needs to grow up. In the end, she will care for all three in her own way and try to help them. Trevelyan, Hawke, and Turvi will love and hate Brosca in ways they won’t even understand, and they will always feel safer with her at their side.

I think of my four DA OCs as a DnD 4-people team, that's why a necromancer, an eldritch knight, a rogue and a warrior.

Sorry for the looooooooonnggg reply, but I have been very happy writing this :) Thank you very very much.

#OCs #Yapping time #Dragon Age MC #Dragon Age #The warden #Natia Brosca #Hawke #Garret Hawke #The inquisitor #Evelyn Trevelyan #Rook #Turvi Ingellvar #Rook Ingellvar #falcatas

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tired-truffle · 2 months ago

Text

Something’s Gotta Give

A CullenxLavellan fic

Chapter Word Count: 8k

Part 24 - A Rematch

Tag list: @bloodoflathander

"You touch me like I am everything you asked god for. Underneath your hands I become poetry. This is the alchemy that you do." - T. James

Warning: NSFW in this chapter!

Masterlist

Ash's heart pounded as she paced her quarters, fingers twisting in her hair. Creators, why was she so nervous? It was just Cullen. Cullen with his stupidly handsome face and those arms that could probably bench-press The Iron Bull. She bit her lip, remembering how his scar curved when he smirked.

No. Focus. This was ridiculous. One ex-templar shouldn't reduce her to a blushing maiden.

But oh, the things she wanted to do to that man. Images flashed through her mind - pinning him against his desk, running her tongue down the long column of his neck, feeling those strong hands gripping her hips. Heat pooled low in her belly, a fire she couldn’t extinguish.

Ash groaned, flopping onto her bed. This was getting her nowhere. She needed to go to him and see where it led them. What was the worst that could happen? Maybe he'd reject her and she'd die of embarrassment. But maybe…maybe he wanted her too.

Fuck it. Or rather, fuck him. Hopefully.

Ash stood, smoothing her robes down over her curves. No more overthinking. She was going to march down to Cullen's office, grab him by that ridiculous fur mantle, and kiss him senseless. And if he didn't like it? Well, there was always more wine in the cellar. Josephine would understand.

She barely remembered making her way across the battlements and was at his office in the blink of an eye. With the tact of a wheelbarrow full of nugs, she opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it smoothly behind her.

“Interested in another round?” she offered, a promise in the smirk adorning her lips. Cullen stood across the room with his back to her, his mantle obscuring his face from view. His body stiffened as she spoke, and the tension pulled taught between them. For a moment too long to be casual, he didn’t move. Ash swallowed around the lump in her throat, briefly doubting if her choice in attire - the robes she’d worn during their match - was too obvious.

When he finally turned, his eyes darkened, bags staining the skin beneath, he remained silent, his jaw clenched. Oh, she’d really fucked up this time.

Ash’s smirk took on a sheepish tinge, her stomach turning over. “I’ll take that as a no to a rematch then?”

He took carefully measured steps until he stood in the middle of the room, folding his arms over his chest and widening his stance. “Why would I be interested when you use such underhanded tactics.”

Finally, something she could work with. She remained where she was, leaning back on the door unconcerned, almost lazy. “Whatever could you mean, Commander?” she asked with saccharine sweetness. “I didn’t break any rules.”

“Not technically,” he said, taking a few more torturous steps towards her. "But you used non-combat distractions, you…made a noise in my ear.”

“What noise? I can’t recall what you’re referring to. Perhaps you could provide a demonstration to jog my memory.”

Ignoring her last request, he said, "You moaned in my ear.” His gaze flicked between her eyes, her lips, and down to the cleavage spilling out of her robes. The few feet of space between them begged to be closed, but Ash refused to be the one to do it. He needed to come to her.

“Oh, right, of course. How could I forget? Would you like to hear it again?”

The air shifted, becoming heady and thick. As she’d silently hoped he would, he closed the remaining distance, his chest plate inches from away her. He placed a hand beside her head, fingers splayed, effectively caging her in against the door as he leaned down. “Is this just a game to you, Ashvalla?”

Ash's breath caught in her throat, a hitching gasp as she instinctively angled her face towards his. Frankly, it was embarrassing how badly she needed him and she was doing everything in her power to retain some semblance of control over herself. “Do you dislike this game?”

“I…” Hesitation crossed his face, though it succumbed to his frustration. “Yes, I dislike it.”

Ash placed a hand on his chest, watching as he tracked the movement.

“Liar.”

Cullen's eyes flashed, and before she could prepare, he grabbed her wrist from his chest and pinned it above her head. His other hand found her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh exposed by the slit in her robe as he pressed her back against the door.

"Is this what you want?" he breathed, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear and making her bite back a curse. "To provoke me until I break?"

"Maybe," she admitted, breathless and chest heaving. "Is it working?"

Cullen's grip on her wrist tightened, his breath hot against her neck. "More than you know," he growled, low and dangerous.

Ash's legs trembled, ready to give out beneath her. She arched into him, desperate for more contact, for his heat to seep into her. "Then show me," she challenged, her free hand sliding up to tangle in his hair.

With a guttural sound, Cullen crashed his lips against hers, claiming her, searing himself into her like a brand. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, messy and desperate, the intoxicating taste of him - the bitterness of elfroot and mint from the tea that sat cooling on his desk. Ash moaned into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his hungry lips - softer than she'd imagined, yet insistent, coaxing little gasps and whimpers from her throat. Ash tugged at his hair, pulling him closer. Cullen responded by releasing her wrist to cradle her face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone.

He pulled back and Ash followed with a needy whine. "I'm going to make you beg first. Payback for all your teasing."

"I'm not above begging," she panted, her fingers tightening in his hair.

"You beg? I'd love to see that."

Ash trailed her fingers down his neck, his hand clenched on her hip. "How should I beg? On my knees with your cock in my mouth?" She nipped at his lower lip. "Or perhaps you'd prefer me over your desk?"

Cullen groaned, his hand sliding up her waist, slipping under the fabric of her robe. "Maker's breath, woman," he muttered as he ducked his head down, placing open-mouthed kisses across her collarbone.

Ash's head fell back against the door with a dull thud as Cullen's fingers teased along the edge of her smallclothes. She whimpered, her hips canting forward, seeking more contact that he refused to give - a slow torture.

"Please," she whined, surprising even herself with how quickly she'd resorted to begging - but he had asked for it, and she was more than happy to oblige. "Cullen, I need-"

It was the first time she’d ever said his name - not his title or an honorific - and he silenced her with another fiery kiss, muffling her pleas, his weight pressing her into the door. She should say his name more often if that was the reaction she received.

Cullen's hand stilled, his fingers hovering just beneath the band of her smalls. "You deserve more than being bent over a desk.”

The tenderness in his words, so unexpected, cut through her bravado like a knife through butter. She felt exposed, more vulnerable than if she'd been standing before him naked. Her heart thundered in her chest, a flush creeping up her neck to stain her cheeks.

Cullen's brow furrowed slightly as he pulled back, noticing the shift in her demeanour. But before he could comment, Ash rallied, forcing a coy smile to her lips even as her pulse raced.

"How do you want me then, Commander?" she purred, her voice only slightly unsteady.

"On the bed," he rasped. "Now."

A shiver ran down Ash's spine at the command in his voice. How times had changed - where she would have once chaffed at any sort of order, she now found herself craving it, from him and only him. She nodded, her legs shaky as she stepped away from the door, Cullen reluctantly releasing his hold on her. "You'd better lock the doors," she said, glancing at the ladder leading up to his loft. "Wouldn't want any unexpected visitors."

As Cullen moved to secure the entrances, Ash approached the ladder. She paused, finding Cullen's eyes fixed on her. With deliberate slowness, she began to climb, making sure he got an eyeful of her legs as her robe rode up.

“Hurry up or I’ll get so impatient that I’ll have to start touching myself on your bed…without you.” She looked over her shoulder, giggling as he tripped and stumbled towards the door, keys jangling together in his haste.

She gave him no time to respond, and when she reached the top, she took a moment to survey Cullen's sparse living quarters. The large bed dominated the space, neatly made with simple linens.

Ash's bare feet - save for the strap of her stockings that looped around the arch - padded across the wooden floorboards as she made her way to the far corner. She gazed out through the gaping hole in his roof, the cool night air kissing her flushed skin. Stars winked at her from the inky sky, and the faint silhouette of mountains loomed in the distance. The hole was oddly charming, in a way - and she had dutifully followed his request to not have it patched up, though she could not for the life of her fathom the reason why he insisted upon keeping it.

She heard the creak of the ladder behind her, followed by Cullen's footsteps, anticipation coiling low in her stomach. She turned slowly, her breath catching as her eyes met his.

Cullen stood a few paces away, his gaze burning with an intensity that made her knees weak, her lips parting slightly as she drank in the sight of him. His usual composure was gone, replaced by raw hunger that matched her own.

A flurry of emotions swirled within her. Desire, certainly - that was a constant undercurrent whenever Cullen was near. But there was something else, something that made her heart clench and her stomach flutter. It terrified her, this feeling, so foreign to her. She knew what it was - Love’s constant beating at her ribcage whenever she felt it had ensured that - but she refused to acknowledge it. That would only make it real, and at least this way, she could pretend like this was nothing more than a casual dalliance.

Ash had always kept people at arm's length, using humour and flirtation as a shield. But Cullen had a way of slipping past her defences, of making her want things she'd never allowed herself to want before. She couldn’t have what she wanted, she would do well to remember that.

She swallowed hard. "You know," she said, her voice huskier than she'd intended, "with that hole in your roof, everyone in Skyhold will hear us."

A predatory gleam sparked in Cullen’s eyes. In three long strides, he closed the distance between them. His strong arms encircled her waist, pulling her flush against his broad chest.

"Let them.”

If he hadn’t been holding her up, she was sure she would have fallen to the floor.

His large, sword-roughened hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone - a motion he’d done once before that she didn’t understand. It was so…tender.

Ash leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed. When she opened them again, she saw both lust - as she had expected - and something softer in Cullen's gaze. It made her chest ache, but she quickly pushed aside the swell of forbidden feelings and reached for the fastenings of Cullen's armour. "Let's get you out of this, shall we?" she said, her fingers working at the buckles and straps. She’d done it once before with his instruction, but she was much too flustered to remember the details now.

His lips descend upon the non-scarred skin of her neck, nipping and sucking at the flesh there and making her squirm. "Impatient, are you?"

“Fuck, yes. Now get out of this armour before I rip it off.”

His low chuckle reverberated from his chest through to hers. "Impatient and bossy. But I wouldn't mind seeing you try.”

“One day you’ll have to teach me.” She bit back a curse at the implication in her words. She’d meant for this to be a one-time thing, but her mind had other ideas. “But I’m not in the learning mood today.”

“Perhaps another time then.”

Would it be so awful if this was more than a one-time thing? It may take a few tries before he was out of her system.

Cullen reached for the fur mantle first - that blasted monstrosity that Ash had grown to both love and hate - and tossed it off to the side and began removing his armour piece by piece. Ash's fingers itched to help, but she forced herself to stay still, savouring the gradual reveal of his muscular form. The heavy breastplate came off first, followed by his pauldrons and vambraces. Each discarded piece of metal hit the floor with a satisfying clunk.

Ash's gaze roved hungrily over Cullen's body as more of it was exposed. The thin linen shirt he wore beneath his armour clung to his chest, damp with a slight sweat. She could see the outline of his defined muscles through the fabric, and her mouth went dry at the sight.

"Much better," she said, leaning in to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat.

Cullen's hands found her waist, and before Ash could react, he hoisted her up with ease. She yelped in surprise, her legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he carried her towards the bed and he all but tossed her onto the mattress. He smirked with self-satisfaction, the scar bisecting his lip pulled taught as she bounced slightly on impact.

Ash propped herself up on her elbows and quirked an eyebrow at him, fighting back a grin. "Proud of yourself?"

"Immensely," Cullen replied in a low rumble. He remained at the side of the bed between her splayed legs, making no motion to follow her.

"Well, don't just stand there admiring the view," Ash teased, her foot nudging his thigh. "Come here and finish what you started."

Cullen caught her ankle, his thumb tracing circles around the jutting bone. "So demanding," he chuckled, but obliged, crawling onto the bed with raptorial grace.

He hovered over her, his muscular arms caging her in as her legs bracketed his hips. The heat of his body seeped through the thin fabric of her robe, and she arched up, desperate for more.

"Patience." Cullen lowered himself until his mouth traced over hers like a light breeze. "I intend to take my time with you."

"Patience was never my strong suit," Ash retorted, her fingers tangling in his hair to pull him down for a kiss.

Cullen groaned against her lips, his hips grinding against hers with a delicious friction that had her whimpering like the ravaged mess she was soon to become. "Maker, you're going to be the death of me."

Ash grinned wickedly, her hand sliding down to palm him through his breeches, already hard and twitching. "What a way to go, though."

Cullen bit his bottom lip as he held back a gasp, his hips stuttering into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he regained himself. He caught her wrist, pinning it above her head as he had done earlier by the door. "You're an insufferable woman."

“You like it,” Ash shot back. “Now take your clothes off.”

Cullen's pupils widened in the low light - she hadn’t realized how much he would enjoy being told what to do - and he released her wrist. "As my Lady commands.”

Ash sat up with him as Cullen slowly peeled off his sweat-dampened shirt. The moonlight cast shadows across his muscular torso, highlighting every dip and curve. She traced the lines of his abs with her eyes, the broad expanse of his chest, the strong set of his shoulders.

But it was the scars that drew her attention most. They crisscrossed his skin like a roadmap of his past - some faded and silvery with age, others newer and still pink. A jagged line ran along his ribs, likely from a sword strike. Smaller, circular marks dotted his shoulder - remnants of arrows, perhaps. And there, just below his collarbone, was a starburst scar that made her heart clench.

Creators, he was gorgeous. A living work of art, that should be lovingly sculpted of rich clay and displayed in the most extravagant museums. But he was here, with only her, no one else could see him as she did.

Cullen's hands moved to the laces of his breeches, and Ash's mouth went dry. She watched, transfixed, as he slowly unlaced them, the fabric sliding down his muscular thighs to pool at his feet. He kicked them aside, leaving him clad only in his smalls, straining with evidence of his arousal.

Ash's robes felt impossibly constricting, despite how little they actually covered. The fabric clung to her overheated skin, the low neckline felt almost prudish compared to Cullen's near-nakedness. She squirmed, desperate to feel his skin against hers.

Without a word, he crawled back onto the bed and over her. Ash reached out, her fingers tracing the contours of Cullen's bare chest. She felt the steady thrum of his heartbeat, quick and strong, matching her own racing pulse.

Cullen leaned in, his lips brushing against her neck as kissed and licked his way down her throat, his stubble scratching lightly against her skin. His hand found the strap of her robe, pushing it aside to trail kisses down her shoulder.

Eager for more, Ash shrugged out of the loosened strap, quickly freeing herself of the other as well. She wiggled her hips, shimmying until the robe bunched around her waist, leaving her torso bare save for her breast band.

Cullen's eyes roved over her newly exposed skin like she’d given him the best present he’d ever received. His calloused hands skimmed up her sides and Ash pressed into his touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as his thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts. Agonizingly slowly, Cullen lowered his head, pressing kisses along the scarred side of her neck that she could hardly feel. His tongue darted out, tasting the salt of her skin. But as his mouth moved lower, ghosting over her collarbone and down to her shoulder, the tingling warmth she'd felt faded to a dull pressure.

"As lovely as your kisses are,” she murmured, her voice huskier than intended, “I can't really feel that."

He froze, raising his head, regarding her with confusion. Ash bit her lip, an uncharacteristic shyness creeping over her. She'd never hidden her scars before, but now, under Cullen's intense gaze, she felt oddly vulnerable.

"The burns," she explained, gesturing to the angry red scars that marred the left side of her body. "I lost a lot of feeling in the worst areas."

Ash held up her left hand, palm facing him. The skin there was twisted and mottled, a patchwork of scar tissue. Without breaking eye contact, Cullen gently took her hand in his. He brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her scarred palm. The tenderness of the gesture made Ash's breath stutter.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his breath puffing against her skin, though she could hardly feel it.

"Not anymore."

Cullen nodded, his eyes never leaving hers as he placed another kiss on her palm, then her wrist. "Show me," he murmured. "Show me where you can feel."

Heart pounding, Ash guided his hand to her shoulder where the scarring on her arm began. "Here," she said. "I can feel pressure, but not much else."

Cullen's fingers skimmed down the inside of her bicep. "And here?"

"A little more. It's…different. Like everything's muffled."

His hand moved to her ribs, just below her breast. "Here?"

Ash sucked in a sharp breath. "I can feel that," she managed. “Thanks to your chestplate’s protection.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Cullen's mouth. He leaned in, replacing his fingers with his lips. Ash gasped as he pressed a soft kiss to the discoloured skin, her back arching off the bed.

"And here?" Cullen murmured against her skin, his stubble scraping lightly as he made his way to the swell of her breast. One hand cupped the soft flesh, kneading gently, while his mouth found her other breast. Even through the fabric of her breast band, Ash felt the heat of his breath, the wetness of his tongue as he lavished attention on her nipple.

“Y-yes,” she answered, “I can feel that too.”

Ash's fingers tangled in Cullen's hair, holding him close and needing him even closer. She felt his hands slide around to her back, fumbling with the ties of her breast band. With a frustrated grunt, he tugged at the fabric - similarly to how she’d tugged at his armour minutes ago.

"Allow me." Ash reached behind herself to undo the stubborn knots. The breastband fell away, and Cullen wasted no time in replacing the fabric with his mouth.

Ash gasped as Cullen's mouth closed around her nipple, his tongue swirling around and flicking the sensitive bud and a wetness gathered at the apex of her thighs.

Needing to be free of everything left between them, Ash reached down to push her robes and stockings the rest of the way off. As she shifted, Cullen's mouth slipped from her breast. His hand shot out to grab her, keeping her from moving any further, and a low, possessive growl rumbled from his chest, startling them both.

Ash's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. Cullen froze, a flush crawling up his neck and over his cheeks. For a moment, they stared at each other, neither knowing exactly what to say.

A slow smirk formed on Ash's face as realization dawned. "Oh," she said silkily. "So you were thinking about them when you commissioned my chest plate."

Cullen's blush deepened and she thrilled at the effect she had on him. His eyes flicked down to her breasts and back up to meet her gaze. "I…yes. It’s difficult not to," he admitted roughly.

Ash's smirk widened into a grin. "I knew it," she said, running a finger down his chest.

Cullen's embarrassment quickly melted into determination as he lowered his head once more. His lips found the soft curve of Ash's breast, and this time, he didn't hold back. He nipped and sucked at her flesh, drawing a startled gasp from Ash as he left a trail of marks across her skin.

His mouth was hot and insistent, alternating between gentle kisses and sharp bites that sent jolts of pleasure straight to her core. Ash's head fell back against the bed, her fingers twisting in Cullen's hair as he lavished attention on her breasts. Each mark he left felt like a tattoo, a claim staked on her body that made her pulse quicken. It should have alarmed her how much she enjoyed the idea, but she wanted to be his, wanted everyone to know who had left those marks.

Cullen's hands slid down her sides, removing her robes as he went. The night air tickled her bare skin as he gripped her hips and pulled her flush against him, the hard planes of his stomach pressing against her center.

Ash rolled her hips, seeking friction, but Cullen's grip held her firmly in place. She whined, frustrated as she writhed against him.

"Cullen," she panted, tugging at his hair to get his attention. "Please, I need you."

But Cullen was relentless. His mouth moved to her neck, sucking hard at the sensitive spot just below her ear. Ash's pleas dissolved into a wanton moan, her nails digging into his shoulders as he marked her there too.

The room filled with the sounds of their laboured breathing and the rustle of sheets as Ash wriggled beneath him. She could feel the heat of his arousal pressed against her thigh, tantalizingly close yet too far away.

Ash's frustration mounted, a needy whimper pulled from her throat. She hooked her legs around Cullen's waist, trying to pull him closer, to get some relief from the ache building between her thighs. But Cullen remained stubbornly still, his mouth busy leaving yet another mark on the swell of her breast.

"Cullen, please," Ash begged, ragged with need. "I can't take it anymore. Touch me, fuck me, anything - just do something before I combust."

Cullen pulled back, his eyes roving over Ash's flushed skin and the constellation of marks he'd left across her chest and neck, her hair splayed out around her. His gaze was molten, filled with desire and that soft…something that had a flicker of panic igniting in Ash’s throat.

"Andraste preserve me, you are…" He breathed his reverence into words. "You are absolutely breathtaking."

Ash stared up at him, her heart pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. The tenderness in his eyes, the gentle way his thumb traced her cheekbone - it was too much. Love fluttered wildly in her chest, beating against her ribcage like a caged bird desperate for freedom. She tried to ignore it, to focus on her aching cunt, but the spirit's presence was impossible to deny.

Cullen's hand cupped her face, his calloused fingers contrasting the softness of his touch. "I've never seen anything more beautiful than you," he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

This wasn't supposed to happen. It was meant to be a quick tumble, a way to scratch an itch and nothing more. But the way Cullen looked at her, touched her, spoke to her - it was unravelling every defence she'd carefully constructed.

Ash felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with her nakedness. Her wit and bravado deserted her, leaving her raw and vulnerable beneath his tender scrutiny.

Love surged within her, filling her chest with a heat that both terrified and exhilarated her. Ash swallowed hard, her throat tight. She wanted to tell him how he made her feel, how he'd wormed his way past her carefully maintained walls. But fear held her tongue.

Instead, Ash whimpered, her hips canting upwards in a silent plea. Cullen's large hand splayed across her abdomen, holding her in place as his other hand drifted lower. His fingers toyed with the edge of her smallclothes, tracing along the trim.

"Please," she whispered again, beyond pride or pretense.

Finally, mercifully, Cullen's fingers disappeared beneath the fabric and he slipped between her folds, gathering the wetness there. A low groan rumbled in his chest.

"By the Maker," he grinned, "is this all for me?"

But Ash was beyond words. She surged upwards, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Her teeth nibbled at his lower lip as she rocked against his hand. Cullen's fingers circled her clit, and she moaned into his mouth, her nails raking down his back.

The kiss was messy and uncoordinated, all clashing teeth and searching tongues. Ash poured all her pent-up frustration and longing into it, her body pressing against Cullen's. His fingers continued their maddening exploration, teasing along her entrance before returning to her clit.

They broke apart, gasping for air, but Cullen rested his forehead against hers. The intimate gesture was not lost on her and she pushed her hips towards his fingers, her body aching for him. Cullen obliged, slowly inserting a large finger inside her. Ash's breath faltered at the intrusion, her inner walls clenching around him.

As he began to pump his finger in and out of her, Cullen's other hand came up to cradle her cheek with an impossibly gentle touch. The slow, steady rhythm stoked the fire in her belly without providing enough friction to satisfy.

When Cullen added a second finger, Ash couldn't hold back the moan that fell from her lips. He crooked his fingers, searching, and when he found that wonderful, perfect, spot inside her, Ash saw stars. Her hips bucked involuntarily, chasing the sensation.

Cullen's hand on her cheek moved, his index finger brushed across her lower lip, and without thinking, Ash took it into her mouth. Her lips closed around it, her tongue swirling as she sucked. She gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes as he lifted his forehead from hers, pupils blown wide with desire - desire for her, intoxicating and heady. His eyes were transfixed on her mouth, watching intently as she hollowed her cheeks and took him deeper.

His fingers inside her stilled momentarily before resuming their rhythm with renewed vigour. Ash's hips bucked as pleasure coiled tighter in her core.

When Cullen withdrew his finger from her mouth, a thin string of saliva stretched between her lips and his finger before breaking. A droplet landed on her cheek, glistening in the moonlight, but before she could wipe it away, Cullen dipped his head, his tongue darting out to lick away the moisture and place kisses there instead.

Cullen's now-free hand found her breast. His calloused fingers kneaded the soft flesh and lightly pinched her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger and making her keen.

She felt his muscles shift beneath her touch as he moved above her, his body a solid weight pressing her into the mattress. Cullen trailed kisses down her jawline and to her neck. When he reached the juncture of her neck and shoulder, he bit down gently before soothing the spot with his tongue.

"Cullen, I-please,” Ash babbled, "More, please. I need-"

Her words cut off in a sharp cry as his thumb found her clit, circling the bundle of nerves in time with the thrusting of his fingers.

Ash's world narrowed to the points where Cullen touched her - his fingers between her legs, his mouth on her neck, his hand on her breast. The pleasure built rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in her core until she felt she might snap from the tension.

"Come for me, Ashvalla," Cullen commanded. While she’d normally balk at being told what to do, those words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his fingers, sent Ash tumbling over the edge. She cried out, her nails digging into Cullen's shoulders as she shuddered beneath him. Cullen worked her through her climax, his fingers slowing but never ceasing as aftershocks rippled through her body.

As she floated down from her high, panting and flushed, Ash came to the unfortunate - or fortunate, depending on how she was feeling - realization that she wasn't yet sated. The ache between her legs had dulled but not disappeared, and judging by the hardness pressed against her thigh, Cullen wasn't finished either.

With a surge of renewed energy, Ash pushed at Cullen's chest. He went willingly, removing his fingers from her cunt with a wet pop and rolling onto his back. She followed him, straddling his hips. Her smalls were soaked through and she wasted no time in shimmying out of them, tossing them carelessly aside along with her stockings.

Cullen's hands found her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there as Ash rocked against him. The friction of his fabric-covered length against her heated core drew a gasp from her lips and a strangled curse from his.

A wolfish grin spread across Ash's face at his reaction. She loved seeing the usually composed Commander come undone beneath her. Leaning forward, she braced her hands on his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath her palms.

"Something wrong, Commander?" she teased, rolling her hips in a particularly delicious way that had them both groaning.

Cullen's response was to thrust up against her, his hands guiding her movements. The head of his cock brushed against her over-stimulated clit, sending sparks running through her body.

Eager to feel more of him, Ash reached between them to tug at Cullen's smalls. He lifted his hips, allowing her to pull them down and off. When his cock sprang free, Ash's eyes widened. He was larger than she'd anticipated, thick and long and already glistening at the tip.

Ash wrapped her hand around him and Cullen hissed through his teeth, his hips jerking involuntarily as she gave him an experimental stroke. She marvelled at the feel of Cullen in her hand - hot and hard, yet velvety soft. She traced the prominent vein along the underside with her thumb, revelling in the way his cock twitched in her grasp as she explored, learning what made him gasp and groan.

She varied her strokes, sometimes long and languid from base to tip, other times quick and focused just below the head. Cullen's hips bucked upwards and his arms shook with the effort of holding himself back, but Ash kept her touch maddeningly light. She wanted to draw this out, to savour every reaction she could wring from him.

Her free hand roamed his body, nails scraping lightly down his chest and over his abdomen. She felt his muscles clench beneath her fingertips, watched the way his jaw tightened as he fought to maintain control. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, disappearing into his hair.

“Ashvalla,” Cullen moaned, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, but she relished the sting.

She leaned down, her breasts brushing against his chest. "Yes, Commander?" she said, twisting her wrist on the upstroke and making him curse.

Cullen's eyes were melted gold as they met hers. "If you keep that up, this will be over embarrassingly quickly."

She laughed, kissing the underside of his jaw and ceasing her strokes. “If you insist,” she said as she positioned herself over him, the head of his cock nudging at her entrance. She slowly began to sink down onto him, gasping at the stretch. Cullen's hands gripped her hips tightly, his muscles taut with the effort of holding still.

"Maker's breath," he panted. "Ash, you feel…incredible."

Ash's hips stuttered, not just from the feeling of the stretch and fullness as she took him in, but from hearing her nickname on his lips for the first time. She loved when he used her full name, the way it rolled off his tongue like a caress, but there was something thrilling about him being so lost in the moment, so overcome with desire, that he couldn't manage more than that single syllable.

She paused halfway down, trembling as she adjusted to his size. His thumbs traced soothing circles on her hips as she willed her walls to accommodate him.

Ash met his eyes, her heart clenching at the affection she saw lying in his open gaze. She braced her hands on his broad chest, his skin flushed and slick with a fine sheen of sweat, muscles rippling as he fought to keep still and let her set the pace. She leaned down to capture his lips in a deep, languid kiss as she sank the rest of the way onto him - bottoming out, Cullen fully sheathed inside her, his hands tightening on her hip as he breathed raggedly.

For a moment, they stayed like that, foreheads pressed together, sharing the same breath. Ash indulged in the feeling of fullness, of being so intimately connected to him. When she finally began to move, it was with slow, shallow rolls of her hips.

Cullen's hands roamed her body, calloused palms skimming over her curves. He cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples and drawing a sharp gasp from her lips.

As she lifted herself up and sank back down, Cullen met her with shallow thrusts. The sound of their laboured breathing and the slick sounds of their joining echoed around the room.

Cullen’s hands clamped on her hips, urging her to go faster, harder. Ash obliged, her thighs burning with the effort as she rode him with increasing fervour.

The moonlight streaming through the hole in the roof painted Cullen's skin in silver, highlighting the sheen of sweat on his chest and the furrow of concentration between his brows. Ash committed every detail to memory - the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with each thrust, the parting of his lips as he panted, the dark desire in his eyes as he gazed up at her.

Ash's thighs began to tremble, her muscles burning from the exertion. She struggled to maintain the rhythm, her movements becoming erratic as fatigue set in. Sweat beaded on her brow, her hair sticking to her forehead and neck.

Cullen noticed her faltering and pulled her down to him, kissing her like she was the air he needed to breathe. His strong arms wrapped around her, hands splaying across her back as he held her close. He planted his feet on the bed and spread her knees wider, opening her up to him. With a sharp thrust of his hips, Cullen drove up into her. Ash gasped against his mouth, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he set a punishing pace.

The change in position pressed Ash's body flush against Cullen's, her sensitive breasts dragging against the hair on his chest with every movement. The friction against her clit built the pressure in her core with each thrust.

Ash broke the kiss, panting heavily as she buried her face in the crook of Cullen's neck. His skin was slick with sweat, tasting of salt on her tongue as she mouthed at his pulse point. The bed creaked beneath them in time to the slap of skin against skin.

Cullen's hands gripped her ass, guiding her as he continued to thrust into her. His stubble scraped against her cheek as he turned his head, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"Come for me, Ash, one more time." She thought it a rather greedy thing to ask for seconds, but she was a giving person. "I want to feel you come around me."

Who was she to deny such an earnest request?

She cried out, muffling the sound against Cullen's neck as her finish pulsed through her. Her inner walls clenched around him rhythmically, drawing a deep groan from his chest.

Cullen's hips stuttered, his rhythm faltering as Ash's climax triggered his own. With a hoarse shout of her name, he came, spilling himself deep inside her as his arms tightened around her shaking body.

For several long minutes, they remained entwined, both panting heavily as they let the last of their climax ebb. Ash's body was boneless, utterly spent and sated. She nuzzled into Cullen's neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex and armour polish. Not once did he complain about taking her full weight, nor did he seem particularly keen to remove himself from her.

She attempted to push herself up, but the movement caused Cullen's softening cock to shift inside her. They both groaned at the overstimulation, and Ash collapsed back onto his chest, her cheek pressed against his sweat-slicked skin.

"Sorry," she said, hoarse from their illicit activities.

Cullen chuckled as his fingers traced lazy patterns on her back. "There’s no need to apologize.”

After a moment to catch their breath, Cullen carefully held her hips, lifting her slightly as he slowly withdrew from her. Ash hissed at the sudden emptiness, feeling bereft at the loss of connection. A warm trickle of his spend leaked onto her inner thighs as she slid off him, rolling onto her back.

Ash draped one arm over her eyes as she tried to regain her composure. If she couldn’t see him, she didn’t have to face what she’d done, right?

The mattress dipped as Cullen shifted beside her. She felt his gaze on her, heavy and searching. Ash's heart raced, unsure of what came next. This was the part where she'd planned to make a quip and saunter out, never to speak of it again. But the thought of leaving Cullen's bed made her chest ache in a way she wasn't prepared to examine too closely - and she wasn’t sure her legs had the strength to carry her all the way back to her room.

He propped himself up on one elbow, his other hand coming to rest on her plump stomach. His fingers swept over her skin, a gentle supplication. Ash peeked out from under her arm and wished she hadn’t so she could continue to ignore the tenderness in his honeyed eyes.

"Is everything okay?" he asked softly, his brow creased with concern.

Ash swallowed hard, her throat suddenly tight. "Yeah," she managed. "Just…give me a minute."

Cullen nodded, his thumb brushing soothingly across her hipbone. The gentle touch sent a pang of longing through her body, and Ash fought the urge to curl into him, to seek out his warmth and comfort. His fingers skimmed up her sides and traced along her collarbone, ghosting over the marks he'd left on her skin. His touch was soft, almost reverent, as he mapped the litany of bruises blooming across her neck and chest.

"You look thoroughly ruined," he said, a hint of pride colouring his voice.

Ash raised an eyebrow at him. "And whose fault is that, I wonder?"

A slow, self-satisfied grin spread across Cullen's face, his scar pulling taut. The sight of it made Ash's heart flutter traitorously in her chest. She rolled her eyes, hoping to mask the effect he had on her.

"Your hair's come undone," she noted, reaching up to run her fingers through his tousled curls. The product he ordinarily used to keep them tamed had been ruined, leaving his hair the way she suspected it naturally was.

Cullen's hand flew to his head, patting at the unruly locks with a frown of mild embarrassment. "Ah, yes. It tends to…do that."

"I like it," Ash said, surprising herself with her honesty. "The curls suit you."

"They're unruly. Unprofessional."

"They're charming," Ash insisted, twirling a lock around her finger. "Very dashing. Like a knight in shining armour."

A flush coated Cullen's ears at her compliment, but he seemed to relax under her touch. His hand dropped from his head, coming to rest on her waist instead.

Cullen's eyes softened as he gazed down at Ash. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly leaned in, his intention clear. Ash's heart raced, panic rising in her chest. This was too much, too intimate. A quick fuck was one thing, but tender kisses in the afterglow? That was dangerous territory.

He must have sensed her unease and he started to pull back. Disappointment flashed across his face, quickly masked but not before Ash caught a glimpse of it.

Something inside her snapped. Fuck it, she thought recklessly. She wanted to kiss him and so she would. It was as simple as that. Before she could second-guess herself, Ash sat up swiftly and pressed a quick kiss to Cullen's cheek.

She laid back down, a delighted giggle bubbling up from her chest at the pure surprise on Cullen's face. His eyes were cast wide, jaw slack as he stared at her in wonder. A slow smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes and making Ash's heart skip a beat.

Following her lead, Cullen cupped her face in his hands and kissed her properly. His lips were soft against hers, the kiss achingly sweet. It was nothing like the heated, desperate kisses they'd shared earlier. This was slow, like they had all the time in the world, a promise of more to come.

She melted into the kiss, her hands coming up to tangle in Cullen's curls. The silky strands slipped through her fingers as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

When they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Ash found herself smiling. Not her usual smirk or the coy grin she used to flirt, but a genuine smile that made her cheeks ache. This couldn’t lead anywhere good, but Cullen's answering smile was radiant, lighting up his entire face in a way that made him look years younger, and Ash would covet that forever.

"That was…" Cullen trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Nice?" Ash supplied

"More than nice," he said, laying his forehead against hers.

Despite how much she craved this, craved him, she found her eyes darting towards the ladder leading down from the loft. A familiar urge to flee tugged at her, whispering that she should leave before things got too complicated. She could still salvage this, keep it casual if she left now. But her body felt heavy, limbs sore and uncooperative.

Cullen caught her glance toward the exit, his face softening with understanding rather than hurt. Ash wondered if she should be offended by his lack of shock at her impulse to bolt. Was she really so predictable? Or did he simply know her better than she wanted?

"Stay," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. It wasn't quite a question, but not quite a command either. "Please."

The sincerity, the open longing in his eyes, broke down the last of Ash's defences. She nodded, unable to find her voice.

Relief washed over Cullen's features, and he pulled her closer. Ash allowed herself to be tucked against his side, her head coming to rest on his chest. She could hear the steady thump of his heart beneath her ear, feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

Sighing contentedly, Cullen reached down and pulled a blanket up over them both. She snuggled closer, her legs tangling with his.

As they lay there, wrapped up in each other, Ash felt the tension slowly drain from her body. The urge to run faded, replaced by a sense of peace she hadn't felt in years - if ever. She knew she should be alarmed, should be putting distance between them before she got in too deep. But in that moment, with Cullen's steady breathing and gentle touch lulling her towards sleep, she couldn't bring herself to care.

Ash drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. For once, her mind was quiet, free from the usual worries and responsibilities that plagued her nights.

Hours later, in the still-dark period before dawn, Ash stirred. She blinked slowly, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. As awareness crept in, memories of the night before flooded back, bringing with them a surge of panic.

Cullen's arm was draped over her waist, his body curled protectively around hers. His breath tickled the back of her neck, warm and even in sleep. For a minute, Ash allowed herself to savour the feeling of being held, of being safe and wanted. But even if she wanted to stay - which she both did and didn’t - she had to go, she had a mission to join.

Extricating herself from Cullen's grasp, she moved slowly, carefully, holding her breath as she lifted his arm and slid out from under it. Cullen stirred slightly, a small wrinkle appearing between his brows, but he didn't wake. Ash paused at the edge of the bed, her heart pounding. She refused to look at Cullen, knowing that if she did, her resolve might crumble. Instead, she focused on locating her clothes in the dim pre-dawn light.

Her robe lay in a crumpled heap near the foot of the bed along with a singular stocking. Ash snatched them up, shaking out the wrinkles as best she could. She searched for her smallclothes and second stocking but couldn't find them in the shadows. After a few fruitless minutes, she gave up, unwilling to risk waking Cullen by searching more thoroughly.

Clutching her robe to her chest, Ash padded silently to the ladder. She descended with care, wincing at every small creak of the wood. When her bare feet touched the cold stone floor of Cullen's office, she let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Ash slipped into her robe, the fabric cool against her skin. She tied it hastily, her fingers fumbling in her haste to cover herself.

Her eyes landed on Cullen's desk, where a ring of keys lay atop a stack of reports. Uttering a silent apology, Ash grabbed the keys and unlocked the door. Before she could give in to her need to climb back into bed with him, she slipped out into the morning air and was gone.

Next Chapter

A/N: 8k of almost entirely smut as a reward for waiting for 24 chapters. There is plenty more where this came from! I hope you enjoyed their first kiss (among a few other things).

You can find the nsfw art for this chapter (*gasp* there’s boobs!) here if you’d like to check it out!

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