kauriart:

A NSFW Dragon Age Fic | Cullen x Isabela | Read it on A03

Isabela wakes before her bedmate with a pleasant ache between her thighs, and another –– milder, but far less pleasant –– between her brows.

Cullen is on his stomach beside her, quilt wadded up beneath his hips so his bare arse sticks up. The early afternoon light filtering in through the open window is angled just right, and the golden-brown fuzz over his buttocks and the backs of his thighs nearly glows. She resists the desire to touch it for nearly a full minute, before reaching over and running her palm up the curve of his ass, and oh yes, delightfully fuzzy.

Cullen comes awake with a sudden, startled cry. He rolls off the bed in a tangle of bare, hairy limbs, and tousled curls, dragging his sword out from under his pillow. “Maker’s breath!” He stumbles, half flailing and goes down in the tiny space between the bed and the chair. “You –– I-Isabela?”

“Who else?” She smirks at him from over the edge of the bed. “Sleep well, Knight-Captain?”

He frowns, staggering to his feet, still too startled to comment directly on her use of his former title. The hangover hits him all at once. Surprise fluttering across his expression before his eyes snap shut. He presses the back of his shield-hand to his forehead with a tight sound of pain. “Holy mother of –– fuck!” He gnashes his teeth together, and glares at her, golden eyes full of blame. “This was a very bad idea.”

It is quite a lovely view. Cullen, stark naked, red all along the tops of his shoulders and halfway down his chest. Bristling with indignation, and offended sensibilities, and more than a little hung over. His balls are roughly at eye-level, cock half-hard –– it is morning, after all –– and bobbing as he shifts from foot-to-foot.

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cullywullycurlywurly:

“You do know it is impolite to scowl, Papa.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow, his daughter giggling at the look of annoyance. “Papa?”

“It’s what the Orlesians say.”

“It is most definitely not what you say, then.”

“I fear I rather like it.”

He scoffed, ignoring the smug grin his eldest child wore, glancing around the room. So little had changed at the Winter Palace in so many years, most notably his disdain for the place. Even for a simple luncheon, the ludicrous outfits and stifling decoration made him loathe even the immaculately perfect sandwiches laid out. His uniform was still too tight, and the scratch of the fabric in the summer warmth was miserably uncomfortable. This had been his wife’s idea, accepting the damn invite and playing the adoring visitors. On hindsight, he should have simply refused to entertain the idea entirely.

“The sooner this is over, the better.”

“You are just no fun, Papa.”

Cullen flinched at the use of the title again, scowling down at her. “And just where is your brother?!”

“Having his cheeks pinched and being fed fancy little cakes.”

His gaze followed his daughter’s guiding point and fell on his youngest child, who was happily perched on a chair surrounded by Orlesian women cooing over him, traitorous icing ringing his mouth, crumbs littering rounded cheeks, and looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

“Mon petit, would you like another cake?”

“Is he not the most darling babe?”

“So exquisitely like his father. The curls!”

“And the provincial Ferelden charm!”

“Speak the Chant again, mon chou.”

The youngster took the last bite of his most recent cake and cleared his throat, fairly obviously hamming it up for his audience, golden eyelashes fluttering as he pulled an exaggeratedly pious face.

“I am not alone. Even as I stumble on the path with my eyes closed, yet I see the Light is here.”

There were squeals of adoration, accompanied by disgustingly cute little claps, and Cullen wondered just when his son had transformed from the usually wild little heathen, covered in dirt and terrorising the tower guard, to this saintly child spouting the Canticle of Trials, with perfectly neat golden ringlets, a pristine uniform and holding the adoration of near half the Orlesian court with an angelic pout. As he glared at his daughter’s triumphant smirk, the boy chose that moment to glance over, face filling with delight at the sight of him, and the very words that left his mouth chilled his blood.

“Daddy! There you are!”

At once, there were several sets of eyes upon him, peals of delight and the feigned gasps accompanying them, and he felt a nudge at the back of his leg as his daughter skipped into the crowd, golden curls bouncing innocently as she grinned over her shoulder, abandoning him with little mercy.

“Enjoy, Papa!”

“Commander! Won’t you join us!”

Andraste preserve him. He hated Halamshiral.

cullywullycurlywurly:

(This one is so late I’ve had to reblog the prompt list. Oops.)

The morning sunlight was almost too bright for the delicate eyes that met it, having seen it begin only an hour previously. Days and nights seemed to bleed together, a blur of lullabies, rocking and nursing. How could it only have been three morns since she had made her arrival, so new and precious, with pink pert lips and soft golden hair and the sweetest of cries. It felt as though a lifetime and a moment all at once.

She had awoken, Elicia quickly realised, to the demanding sniffles of her child, rooting against her skin, searching for comfort, for safety. For her. The most precious demand that had ever been asked of her. Hushing the tiny babe and pulling her to her breast, eyes barely open and bleary, she latched her with practiced ease. Wails fell to silence as the infant began to nurse, tension leaving dissipating and peace returning once more. A strong arm encircled her waist and gently pulled her flush against warm, taught skin, Elicia sighing contently as her back met her husband’s loving embrace.

“I appreciate it is not her doing, but by the Maker that cry is enough to wake the dead. Must she be so desperately inconsolable when your breast is mere inches from her mouth?”

“Cullen.”

A gruff, throaty chuckle was her response, filled with sleep. She turned her head back enough to see his own hovering above her, leaning on an elbow with a rueful smile, long stubble littering a handsome face, eyes as tired as her own, ringed with devoted exhaustion.

“You are so beautiful. Do you know that?”

A laugh left her, enough to jolt the dozing baby into suckling furiously once more with an affronted squeak. “I have barely slept an hour the past three nights, Maker knows what I smell of, and our daughter has allowed me little time to tame the growing mane on my head.”

He leant down enough to press a sweet, tender kiss to her, filled with affection and laced with sincerity. She sighed against his lips, a smile curling around her own as he brushed a strand of her from her face, tracing the arch of her cheekbone with a delicate finger, nuzzling against her.

“I will take her later, so that you can bathe and perhaps even stretch to taking a wander outside. I may not have your maternal touch, but I am certain I can keep her content for at least an hour.”

“I am sure she will not object to an hour spent in her father’s arms. I have a feeling the two of you will get along splendidly.” She kissed him once more, before being interrupted by a wail from the aforementioned babe in her arms, who had managed to unlatch herself and work tiny fists into a furious wave in protest. “She has your patience, after all.”

elvenwolf1313:

    Cullen wasn’t sleeping. Again.  He paced his office then gave up and went walking along the ramparts. Perhaps the night air would help. He’d gotten as far as the walkway over the garden and turning… someone was coming out of his office. If Sera was pulling yet another prank of him, maker help them both. He headed back at a brisk pace, so focused on getting back, he didn’t notice passing the elven woman.

    He stomped into his office eyes darting, then froze. There on his desk was a pot of tea, a cup, and a small plate with shortbread fingers. The tea was aromatic, some blend of herbs floral and spicy. The shortbread looked perfect, just starting to turn golden when taken from the ovens. Cullen wasn’t sure if he should trust it, but gave in. Shortbread might have been a weakness, not that the Commander of the Inquisition Army would admit it.

    He’d finished the shortbread and tea not long after, noticing that after only a single cup he’d begun to relax. He sighed and went up to bed. Any sleep was better than no sleep.

    The tray was gone when he came down that morning. He felt better after that few hours of deep sleep and wondered what was in the tea.

    He met the others at breakfast. He’d rather eat with his troops, but with guests at Skyhold this week he was obligated to take his meals with the Inquisitor. Their server was a red haired elven woman with soft grey eyes and a sweet shy smile. She never looked anyone in the eye, was always soft spoken and attentive to their guests’ needs. Bull made a a vaguely vulgar pass at her and she blushed profusely, and though her voice quivers just a little, her response was a polite, “I thank you, but no, Ser.”

    Cullen found himself staring at her. Watching her every graceful move. He was watching her hands, serving to Leliana when someone spoke. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” He tried a bit too hard to cover the fact he’d been watching the elf.

    It had been one of the dignitaries. He was looking pointedly at the Commander with an arched brow. “Fancy the elven ones too, Commander?”  “No!” Cullen’s blush went high, “I mean, That’s not what I…” The grey-eyed woman shot the befuddled commander a sweet smile, her own blush pinking her cheeks. “If you’ll excuse me, I really do have duties to attend.” He stood abruptly and practically marched from the dining room. He could hear the dignitary asking if he’d said something wrong but he couldn’t make out Josephine’s or Trevelyan’s answer.

    “Ser!?” a soft, melodic voice behind him. He whirled, the voice not clicking in his mind, thinking it was his Aide, “What?” it came out far more gruff than he’d wanted. She froze, eyes wide and nearly tearful. He felt like a heel, especially when he saw what she carried. His sword. He must have forgotten it at the door. Her small, trembling hands offered it up to him silently. “I’m sorry. Thank you.” he said, taking it from her and slipping into its sheath at his hip. She only nodded and looked at him as if she couldn’t tear her eyes away. “About that comment Bull made, I can speak to him about that if you like.” He hadn’t liked the vulgarity, nor how it had obviously made her feel. She shook her head, “It’s alright. He doesn’t really mean to be rude. Just his way.” Her voice sang to him. His stomach flipped and his heart pounded. She wasn’t sure what to say now, or do, so she simply offered a small bowing nod and turned away, a few steps later and she was nearly running back to the kitchens.

    Cullen had taken the afternoon meal with his troops, but was again obligated to take the evening meal with the rest of the elite in Trevelyan’s inner circle. He dreaded it. Nobles annoyed him to no end.  

    A new face at the table tonight. Josephine had sent a note about this guest. The spoiled son of some Orlesian Higher-up.  Most of the evening was spent listening to his various conquests, tales of what he wanted to do, but never did, and the vulgar passes and suggestions he made to every female he thought he could intimidate.

    The grey-eyed redhead entered, serving desserts. Fruits, cheeses, sweet biscuits, scones, dessert wines, brandies… her try of sherry glasses crashed to the floor when she saw the young man. Her face had gone pale and she looked about to bolt. Cullen was on his feet in a flash, hand reaching for the sword that wasn’t there. The young man looked her up and down, “Oh yes. I remember you.” his voice dripping acid. He looked at Cullen, who had still not taken his seat and spoke, seeing how the commander looked at the woman, “Don’t bother commander. Nice tits, but she’s nothing more than a cock-tease.” Cullen’s fists clenched as he rounded the table, the young noble went white, but Cullen passed him. The commander took the woman’s hand, gently, offered a small smile, “You don’t have to take this sort of thing. Come with me.” and he got her out of there as fast as he could. ‘   

    She was confused, sincerely thinking she was in great trouble. She ran behind the Commander until he finally slowed as they neared his quarters. When he turned to her she was still wide-eyed, filled with tears that were on the brink of spilling over. Cullen’s face softened as he realized he’d terrorized the poor girl. “I’m sorry.” his voice soft, tender. “I didn’t mean to scare you, really.” his fingers grazed her cheek. “I… I didn’t mean… to make you angry, Ser.” she stammered, the tears flowing now, trembling beneath his touch. Cullen  sighed, feeling drained. “I… I didn’t like him talking to you like that. It was uncalled for.” his voice was soft, but vehement. She only looked at him. For the first time, straight into his eyes. She saw his own hurt, his kindness, his strength and her heart pounded being so close to him. “I have to go back or Cook’ll skin me alive.” she whispered, his scent of moss oak and elderflower made richer by his own scent, swirling in her senses. “You tell her I kept you, and if there’s any argument she has she can talk to me.” “Yes, Ser, Commander.” and she dashed away before he could say anything else.  

    He was distracted the rest of the evening, unable to concentrate on work, so he gave up.

Leaning back in his chair, sighing, he realized it was actually quite late. He didn’t want to sleep. He never did.  So roaming again he went. Along the ramparts and battlements, into the courtyards and stables, then he saw again the small figure entering his office. Cullen ran up the stairs, his door was still open as he’d left it but there she was, setting the tray of tea and sweets on his desk. He stood there blinking at her. She only blushed and looked down. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll go, pick up these things later.” “No!  I mean… no…” She looked a bit confused, “Don’t pick them up?” “I… i mean… why don’t you stay a moment?” that beautiful rose blush came to her pretty cheeks again and she looked at her feet. “Just… sit and talk to me?” Cullen dragged a chair over for her, seating her at the end of his desk. He didn’t want her across from him where she may feel interrogated. “What’s your name?” She didn’t answer at first, as if unaware he meant her, then looked up at him surprised, “Ari.”  

    Cullen smiled, the name was as cute as she… what was he thinking? His mind kept turning to…things… like how soft her skin looked, how her eyes looked like a storm with the rays of sun beaming through, how sweet her smile was… He shook himself out of this reverie. She was watching him. “I didn’t thank you before. I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t know what to do.” she said her voice lilting and soft. “He had no business talking to or about you like that.” Cullen said still a bit angry about it. “I thought you were going to hit him at first.” she said trying to hide a small smile. Cullen chuckled, “So did I. But I got that Look from Lady Josephine and I didn’t dare.”  She giggled and it was musical to him. He couldn’t help but smile, sipping the tea she’d brought for him.

    “I worked in his father’s house before… that’s how he knew me.” Cullen looked up from his cup, questioning. “He… was less of a gentleman there.” Cullen knew she was implying something, but wasn’t sure he wanted to know what. Ari sat there, under his gaze, fidgeting, hugging herself. Cullen realized he’d been staring. “So, you’re the one who’s been bringing me late night tea?” trying to lighten the mood a bit. Ari nodded, “You don’t seem to sleep well… I… I wanted to help.” “Thank you. It’s kind of you.” he said, sipping. “I don’t recognize the blend.” looking into the cup. “Chamomile, John’s Wort, Catnip, Elfroot, Clover, and a little mint.” she recited, “and good honey. The kind Cook says is only for guests.” she grinned impishly at him then blushed, still grinning looked at the floor.

    Cullen had never met someone more shy than himself before. Nor someone so unaware of just how beautiful they were. Something within him stirred. A Longing. He wanted to take her up in his arms and tell her everything was going to be alright… he wanted to make everything alright for her. What had come over him, he wondered. But seeing her and not touching her was beginning to make him ache. They didn’t speak as he finished the tea. It made him sleepy and relaxed. She smiled taking the cup from him and he blushed at her realizing he’d begun to doze, just for a moment. “I’ll bring tomorrow’s tea at sunset if you prefer. More sleep.” “How do you know when I can’t sleep?” he asked softly, reaching for her hand, taking it, holding it amazed how small it looked in his large hand. “I see your lights on… sometimes I see you walking.” would he know that she watched on purpose. That every time she saw him her heart would fill with tender pulses?  They blushed at each other. She gently pulled away and took up the dishes and tray. “Tomorrow then.” he said, “I look forward to it.” he’d not felt that bold in a long time, “As do I.” she quipped at him and was out the door before her knees gave out from blushing so.

    This went on for weeks. Their late night tea, he’d managed to talk her into having a cup with him. Both enjoyed the talking the companionship. Ari, looked forward to each evening and the thought of spending time with him spurred her to better work. She felt light and giddy. It affected Cullen similarly. He got more done as he was more relaxed and was getting better if not more sleep. The dreams still came… and they were still bad… but thoughts of Ari would fill his mind then and the dreams would fade away.

    Ari, was later than usual that night. The girls from the kitchen had given he a hard time about what kinds of services she was offering to have gained the attention of the handsome commander. Ari had tried to ignore them but there’d been a scuffle and a cup was broken. Cook went into a fit and chased them all out. Ari had to wait to explain that the Commander had requested the tea every night. She finally arrived to aa rather worried Cullen. “I’d heard there was trouble in the kitchen?” she nodded, setting the tray down on the desk. “Are you alright?” “I’m fine.. I’m sorry I’m late…” she turned to look up at him but he’d stepped to her as she spoke and was standing very close. Her breath quickened and her heart pounded. “Ari…” he began, “I… I can’t keep doing this.” “oh. I… I understand.” she looked at her feet feeling hot tears threatening. “I understand.” she repeated. “No… I mean… I.. you and I…” She turned on him, “I get it! An elf. The help. You’re the Commander… I. get. It.” Ari whirled away from him, missing the bewildered expression on his face. The it dawned on him what she meant, “No! You don’t…” he grabbed her elbow, gentle but firm, “you don’t really think…do you?” Ari could see on his face, in his eyes… he’d never treat her like that. He was better than that. But the girls and all the things they’d said had her head in the wrong place. “I’m sorry, Cullen…” He offered a small smile and pulled her closer, hands on her arms, lightly. “You are so… Beautiful.” Ari was taken so by surprise that she actually checked behind her that he may be meaning someone else. “No. you, Ari. I have never…” he took a deep breath, cupping her face tenderly in his hands, “I..” words had abandoned him and so he just kissed her. Soft, sweet, and hungry.

    Ari was surprised at the kiss, she’d dreamed, hoped, even, but never really expected it. She rose on tiptoe hands on his ribs, under the cape, bracing herself as she reached for his kisses. His own hands trailed lightly down to rest on her hips. Cullen couldn’t contain himself any longer and he wrapped her in his arms, lifting her a little off the floor and kissing her harder, deeper, like a man dying of thirst and she was water.  He regained some control and let her down gently. Both were breathless. Ari didn’t know what to say. Cullen, at a loss for words, blushed, still breathing a little hard, and stepped back slightly. “So… um… I think a great deal of you, Ari.” She couldn’t stop grinning at him and didn’t know what to say or do. “I’ll pick up the tray later. Drink your tea and get some sleep.” and she dashed out before anything more could happen.

    Ari returned later, carrying a small candle lantern. She could hear him snoring softly in his loft and she smiled, imagining how handsome and peaceful he must look asleep. She gathered the dishes and the tray when she heard him. At first a whimper and muttering then, “Maker help me… get way! Get away!” Ari left the tray and scurried up the ladder. He was tangled in the blanket twisting this way and that tears streaming down his face and her heart ached. Ari didn’t think, she only climbed up on the bed  and lay down next to him, propped up on her elbow.  “Ssshhh… Cullen.. Cullen.. It’s alright… It’s Ari. I’m here…” He calmed a little, still whimpering softly and she began to hum… then to sing quietly to him and old Elven lullaby her mother used to sing to her. Cullen settled… he turned over, eyes opening, no longer dreaming, but not fully awake and saw Ari. She brushed his hair from his eyes, caressing his cheek and smiled. “You’re safe. I’m here.” He wrapped his arms around her, “Stay with me, please.” he whispered. Ari nodded and lay with him, head on his chest, fingers stroking light, dancing symbols over his skin. He shivered at her touch and felt a stirring inside. She raised slightly and traced more symbols over his stomach. “What are you dong?” he smiled. “Putting protection symbols on you… it that alright?” He sat up blinking at her… “You… you’re a mage??” “Don’t be angry, please! I wanted to tell you… that’s why that man didn’t like me… but…” she looked away, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, “I know what happened at Kinloch. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I thought if you knew…” “Ari,” his voice husky and quiet, “You can tell me anything and I’ll still love you.” He hadn’t expect to say it, not yet anyway. Ari turned to him, desperate for him to tell her it was alright and blurted, “I helped Jowan get to his phylactery… I honestly didn’t know he was a bloodmage! If I had I would have turned him in! I promise you!, but he was my friend and they were in love… and I.. I was stupid. And when Gregor was going to make me tranquil for it… I ran away. Then everything happened and…” Cullen cut her off with a kiss. “I don’t care.” he muttered lips still pressed against hers. He could feel her warmth, her fear. He knew her kindness and her heart were good. Pure. There was no doubt that this woman wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose. And Mage or not, he loved her.

    She kissed him, craving and deep. And blushed at herself for being so bold. It had been hard after leaving the circle to keep her magic hidden, especially once she made it to an alienage. She’d had no idea how horrifically elves were treated. Eventually she made it to a Dalish clan, but they had to turn her away because of the magic. By then the inquisition had begun and she’d gotten to them just after they made it to Skyhold.

    Cullen laid her back on the bed, one hand at the back of her neck the other running up and down her side. She felt a tingling where he touched her, that spread across her body and down… She’d never been with a man, but she recognized the feelings in herself by instinct. Her most feminine place began to heat, to tingle, to ache with a need… His kisses came more passionate, hungry, almost demanding but never forcing.

    Cullen could feel himself hardening, feeling as if it might burst from his smallclothes. He felt her bare thigh graze his own, her skirts had gotten hiked up on one side and her naked skin rubbed the hard throbbing in a deliciously teasing way. “I…” he didn’t have to finish, Ari nodded to him and lifted her skirts up, sitting up briefly as she lifted her dress over her head and let it drop to the floor. Her small, pale breasts seemed to glow in the moonlight, tiny pink nipples like pebbles. He cupped one, covering the whole thing with his hand, feeling her nipple stabbing his palm, and the hardness twitched. He held still a moment, trying to regain a little control. Ari’s fingers trailed down his chest, teasing a nipple before moving slowly over his stomach and down… down to where he threatened to burst. Her fingers hooked into the waistband and shyly pulled them down. Cullen kicked them off onto the floor, his ridged member bouncing lightly having been freed, and Ari’s small hand took hold of him. He moaned into her neck, nibbling, tongue tasting her skin and finding her delectable.

    She took one of his hands hand slid it down her body to her hot little mound. He cupped it, caressing, then slipped a finger into the damp crevasse. Ari’s hips jerked slightly and her hand gripped him a little tighter. He hardened that much more, muttering, his lips pressed to hers, “Maker’s breath” His finger found the hard little nub and he stroked it lightly. She moaned his name and he nearly lost all control. “May i?” he whispered, propping up to look at her face, finger still between her legs, teasing the little button, “I want to …” he blushed a little as did she, and she finished the thought for him, “I want you to be in me, Cullen.”

    He gently turned her onto her back, and carefully climbed over her. She reach down, taking the hardness in her hand and gently guiding him. He felt the tip graze a slick heat, and pressed forward with his hips, slipping into her easily enough. Both sucked air then held very still, afraid it could be over before they even got started.

    Cullen carefully rolled his hips, slipping into her deeper then nearly out and in again. Ari tilted her head back. Her throat bared, hands gripping his hips pulling him in deeper each time. He took his time, enjoying the slow building. He opened his eyes, looking into her, felt her thighs gripping his hips as he hand roamed his back, sides, chest… He dipped his head taking a tiny pink nipple between his lips and sucking. At first softly then slowly increasing the pressure until he was fully suckling.

Ari’s legs wrapped around his waist, hips lifting to meet his thrusts, breasts bouncing enticingly with each sweet bump. His speed increased slowly. Tiny soft grunts emitted from his throat with each shove forward. Her breath in ragged gasps, faint moaning then she licked his nipple and his head swam. It was like she’d licked his hardness and he was in her at the same time. Ari’s hands tangled in the blanket gripping tightly, thighs encouraging him to drive deeper. Cullen reached above her, gripping the edge of the mattress and using it to add force to his already violent thrusts. He rammed deep and hard, crushing her sweet little breasts against his chest, grinding her nipples against his own.

He could feel her hot inner walls tighten, milking him, her gasps and whimpers faster, more desperate, his own ragged breathing and grunting matching hers. Ari’s hips lifted, her back arched, his name came from her lips, “Maker! Cullen! I…” but she could say no more as her body stiffened and her heat throbbed and pulsed in the most exquisite release.

His own followed hers. He felt it stiffen beyond belief, thickening, lengthening, sac tightening, he felt like everything would burst and he wanted it. Her face when she came was beyond beautiful, and to be buried in her like this when it happened… Then his tensed, muscles ridged, gobs of hot wetness filling her, he could feel every pulse, up the shaft and out the tip, could smell their scents mingling, face buried in her neck and hair, her legs tight around him, fingers digging into his back. He never wanted this to end.