I was buzzing around through my files, and I came across this fic that I finished and just left sitting here... Hurmmmm. I figure it's about time I shared this with you guys, especially those waiting on my slow butt to get the next chapter of 'The Desire to Begot'. Yeah ^^;;;;
I think this was actually inspired by a prompt on the K!meme, can't remember the prompt exactly, but I'll post it at the bottom.
Here's the Disclaimer, btw:
The characters, settings, and the like involved in this fic's plot are property of Bioware/EA Games. I claim no ownership over them, but this story was written by me, and inspired by and based on the Dragon Age Universe, and it's story lines. References come from in-game videos posted on Youtube, the Dragon Age Wiki, and whatever resources I find on the internet associated with the game and it's fandom. While I may not have the references on hand, you can message me, and I will do my best to dig them up.
So, I present to you, 'Harrowed by Night', a one-shot with custom F!Amell and Cullen. (Hopefully, the formatting sticks this time.)
This is for the ever-patient, who wait whilst twiddling their thumbs for me to get off my arse and post more on 'The Desire to Begot' ^^; lol
"I am nothing special, of this I am sure. I am a common man with common thoughts and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough.."
― Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook
It was well past curfew, and the tower was quieted with the slow shuffling of templars on patrol. The mice seemed to abide by the rules of the tower – the rats were otherwise bolder, as was one templar out of armor, and out of bed. One would never suspect the silent, well-mannered Cullen to be out past curfew when the night watch wasn't his. But Cullen was in desperate need of time to himself, away from his fellow bunk-mates. Though they normally slept like the dead, he found himself overly self-conscious, and too bashfully at the thought of someone waking up and hearing him. He himself has had the misfortune of waking up on more occasions than he'd openly admit, to someone shamelessly... Pleasuring themselves, with little to no regard of anyone else waking up. He was thankfully for his helmet the mornings that would follow, hiding his own shame at having heard such – such things!
He couldn't bring himself to do it with so many people around him, normally he would rather go without self-gratification. But tonight, he desperately needed to find release.
She had worn her hair down again today... Amell. She was always so shy about it, the way her hair framed her face, and softened her features, it made him ache through and through with want of her. Forget the templar armor's original intention of design – making one templar after the other look the same, like sentinel statues. He was thankful for it's ability to hide all but his eyes, especially his rising arousal that refused to go away. What was it about Marquetta Amell that made his body react as if he was in the beginnings of an adolescent wet-dream?
She was always so bashful about her hair, said that when it was down, she said it made her feel mousy.
"The only good thing about it is that if covers my ears." She laughed at herself as she ran her fingers through it. Cullen had to bit his lip to hold back a moan, watching her fingers play with her tresses chin length tresses.
"I -I th-think your hair looks-ks very nice d-d-down."
Even now Cullen cursed his stutter when he had spoken to her, but that was all but forgotten as he remembered how her eyes lit up. Her shy smile brightened and she stepped closer to him. His eyes widened when she jumped up on her tip toes, clutching her books tightly to her chest and placed a quick peck on the side of his helmet – were his helmet not there, she would have kissed him on the cheek. Amell stood there for a second more, her bright expression now highlighted with a blush before she hurried down the hall with a small wave.
Cullen was sure he was baking in his helmet after that, his face so flared as his heart pounded in his armor-clad chest. He fought to keep his breathing even and his thoughts on the straight and narrow, but no such luck. That secret kiss was his undoing for the day. His stuttered-speech was accompanied by an obvious stumble to and fro. No matter how hard he fought it, he couldn't quell his desire for her. With his day only allowing time for short meals, he had no way to find relief, making it painstakingly slow. It was to the point where he had to hold his breath as she walked by. He had to fight to keep his eyes from following her, especially when her's would dart to him. She would give him a coy smile, and a small wave. He couldn't help but numbly wave back. How would she always know it was him?
Cullen slipped quietly into the apprentices' library now, the best place to hide himself and his shame. He was particularly thankful no one had come across him in his travels to the library, his bulging hard-on plainly obvious through his leather breeches, it felt like it stood out more since he boldly decided against wearing his smalls. He quickly hurried past the incoming templar that was shuffling around bookcases.
Many apprentices were up for their Harrowing in the coming days, and some of them were allowed time to study past curfew with passes of approval from the First Enchanter himself – in which case the apprentices were assigned to one section of the library with a couple templar assigned to keep watch over them.
To Cullen's knowledge, no such passes were given out tonight, for that, he was saying his prayers of thanks to the Maker. This made sneaking to his destination of the library so much easier. He knew exactly where he would go to. In the quiet side-study of the library – near the staircase to the next floor – Cullen made his way around the circle of bookcases to the back, where a small area of study was. There, students could practice their spells and the theories of them. It was where Amell would usually study, in the far back, next to where the wall met the side of the stairs.
Cullen found himself stationed back here on occasion, watching the few apprentices who would gag around back here – templars were mostly put here to discourage 'frivolous activities' – much more innocent than the one he was about to engage in himself. Cullen quietly made his way to the back corner, turning to brace his back into it, working to make himself as small as he could – though with how much bulk there was to him, that felt impossible unless he were duck to the floor or shrink.
Cullen began to work apart the ties to his breeches with shaky hands and all thumbs. He felt so impatient as he fumbled with the knot – curse his habit of double-knoting his ties to the Void and back! He had all but ripped the ties from his breeches before they finally relented under his fingers and opened. He sighed in relief, slowly reaching into his breeches, and pulling out his hardened erection. He felt himself trembling from head to toe at touching himself. At first, he just stood there, silently holding himself with ever trembling fingers, feeling his cocking pulsing subtly – as if just being out in the open was a good start.
Then, his mind began to wander as his eyes slipped closed. He wandered to thoughts of her – her hair down, her face flushed as she smiled shyly at him. Just as he saw her today, but his mind began to play with the image. He imagined the color to her cheeks was due to another rush of emotion. Her shy smile became eager, coy. Her bright eyes darkened with a passion, held there only for him.
His hand began to move on it's own as Cullen tilted his head back, nearly resting the crown of his head into the corner. His breathing began to hitch at the light touches traced up and down his length. His mouth opened slowly as he forced himself to take slowly, heavy breaths.
"A-Amell...!" He breathed quietly, he began to gently wrap his fingers around his hardness, fighting to keep himself quiet. Yes, this wouldn't take long, or so he hoped.
"To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves."
― Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding and Yerma
The quiet tiptoed steps of Maquetta Amell went unheard as she made her way through the hall. She had forgone her usual leather-soled ankle-boots in favor of her soft, cloth-slippers that clung to her feet. While her leather boots made little noise, her slippers made even less. They almost made her feel invisible when she walked around with them. The slight shadow she would cast told her otherwise of said-invisibility, but it was the thought and excitement of it that made Mara giddy. Maybe it was sneaking around at night that really made her so thrilled to be out – it was past curfew, after all. But there was a reason Mara was sneaking around quietly, her books clutched tightly to her chest along with a small satchel of quills and ink-bottles – between her books and bosom to keep the bottles from clinking, and effectively ruining her attempts at stealthing through the torch lit corridors. She moved quietly toward the library – only down the hall from her shared-quarters.
She knew the patrol patterns of the templars well enough to keep hidden and know when was best to sneak into the quiet study of the library, where she would likely remain until early morning, studying for her upcoming-Harrowing. She didn't know exactly when it would be, just that she would be called within a week to the Harrowing Chamber.
She made her way quickly to her favorite section of the library – the rounded study. A few stands were left with open books from apprentices earlier that day, practicing their craft and theories. She was sure no templars would be patrolling through here in more than a passing glance, and that wouldn't be enough to catch a wayward apprentice out of bed.
She smiled to herself, she was almost there, and still had yet to be caught. The Maker was smiling upon her today.
"A-Amell...!" Mara held back a strangled gasp, clamping her hand over her mouth as she quickly clutched her things tighter to her chest. She spun around, only to narrow her eyes as her brow furrowed. No one was there. Was it a figment of imagination? Was she so paranoid of getting caught that she imagined so? She slowly removed her hand from her mouth, allowing the breath she had been holding to be released. She continued her way around the bookcases to her destination. She glanced to a table at her side and quietly set her things down. She froze, seeing movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned quickly to the direction of said movement.
Mara choked back a gasp at what she saw. Or was she seeing things through the dim-lighting and sleep deprivation? Maybe she had actually fallen asleep and had stumbled across a demon in the fade? In the darkened corner of the sectioned-off part of the study, was the form of a man too thickly-built to be any mage in the tower.
She watched in silence for a moment, her mind slowly putting together the pieces as she narrowed her eyes to try and see him. Her eyes widened, the realization of everything about the whole situation hitting her at once.
It was Cullen; It was Cullen and he was... He was–
She felt her cheeks flare and her eyes widened to what she was sure the size of cup saucers. She felt herself flood with panic, but she couldn't move, too afraid to disturb him. What if he saw her? Then what? Her mind began to race, several scenarios flashing through her head as she watched Cullen helplessly. His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly opened. His head was tilted back as his hand slowly worked up and down his length. Mara thought she would have to fight to keep her head up, but it wasn't nearly as difficult as she thought. In fact, she found herself captivated by his face. He didn't go without his helm often, she had seen him without it once or twice when she had asked him to remove it. But she had never seen him without his armor before – He was simply dressed in a thin, white shift and breeches, which he lowered on his hips as his hand worked.
Mara bit her lip, torn in what she was supposed to do. She was terrified of getting caught, and she knew she could never look at him the same way. He would ask her – she was sure – why she acting in such a way toward him. What would she say?
Mara held back a gasp as she heard Cullen moan quietly. The movements of his arm became more hastened as he began to pant loudly.
"Ah-ah... Amell. My-my sweet..." She felt herself shaking at his soft declaration to the dark. He couldn't have seen her, his eyes were closed, right? She pressed the pad of her thumb to her mouth as she continued to worry away at her bottom lip, still unsure of what to do.
His body gave a slight jerk. Was he nearly done? If so, Mara didn't have much time to decide what to do. She felt herself become heated as he began to moan once more.
"Marquetta." She felt her breath begin to quicken with her pulse as the final pieces fell into place. He was here to think about her... She slowly began to reach for her things on the table. She had her hands securely on her books and began to quietly lift them with her satchel to her chest. Once tightly placed to her bosom, she began to turn slowly away from Cullen, but froze as she heard Cullen mutter softly under his breath. She nibbled on her bottom lip again, feeling an unsettling heat wash over her.
No, it wasn't unsettling... It was something else entirely. She glanced over her shoulder to find Cullen was pumping into his hand, his pace having increased slightly.
"M-more, Marquetta, please." He begged to no one, "Y-your m-m-mouth!" Mara slowly turned back to Cullen, feeling herself relax as she watch Cullen in a haze.
Mara would never have admitted it, but now she found it difficult when she found herself presented with such a persistent display of wanton temptation. Her breathing began to hitch as she felt herself moving of her own accord. She quietly replaced her books on the table and began walking slowly toward Cullen, as if she was mesmerized by him.
Who was she kidding? She would be crazy to deny herself something she had longed for. The boys among the mages and apprentices were nothing compared to the muscle of Cullen. But it wasn't all vanity that drew her to him. She always liked Cullen, but had she known he liked her so, she might have done more than simply kiss him on the cheek – well, not really his cheek – earlier. She might have asked for more later.
She was never one to play with someone's emotions – Cullen obviously really liked her, or more than liked her, it seemed – but she could be sent to her death any day now, and Marquetta Amell did not want to die without experiencing how it felt to share yourself with someone. Of course Mara had read about it, and heard about it, but to experience it, that was what she really wanted.
"Like magic, she felt him getting nearer, felt it like a pull in the pit of her stomach. It felt like hunger but deeper, heavier. Like the best kind of expectation. Ice cream expectation. Chocolate expectation."
― Sarah Addison Allen, The Sugar Queen
Cullen felt as if his blood was begging for a release now, but somehow, it wasn't good enough, what his hand doing it. Even if he was imagining it was her's, the back of his mind knew better. He was so close. He could feel himself edging toward completion, but something was missing.
"M-more, Marquetta, please." He heard himself begging into the darkness, "Y-your m-m-mouth!" The thought of her mouth on his skin seemed to help him, if only a little. Maybe it would be no time at all before he was able to finish, and shuffle shamefully back to bed.
Suddenly, Cullen's eyes shot open, feeling something – someone?! - pressing against his free arm. Their lips pressed tenderly to his neck, over his racing pulse. He could hear their breath next to his ear as she slowly kissed up to it.
"Here?" They whispered softly. He forced back a strangled gasp.
Amell?! Here?! Maker strike him down now! Please! Take him!
"Is this where you want my mouth...?" As panic began to set into pace with his arousal-racing heart.
"A-Am-Amell?!" Cullen stuttered out, feeling as if he was burning alive. Between having been discovered by his heart's desire and having her body pressed against his, Cullen was utterly numb. He was frozen to the spot, his hand still around his throbbing erection as Amell's breath continued to ghost across his cheek.
"Where is it you want my mouth, Cullen?" She spoke again, her voice a low whisper, hinting at something dark Cullen had only heard in his own passion-addled fantasies.
"I-I-I-I..." Was all Cullen could teeter out as his hand began to slowly work his length again. The shock of her not being utterly revolted and her body against his having worn off enough for his instinct to set back into place. His ability to think straight though, that was a completely different story.
"It's alright, love, take your time." Cullen felt himself shiver as she spoke, slipping his arm around her waist. Love? She loved him? He felt his heart sing as his hand began to work toward it's previous pace. His other hand had found it's way to Amell's bottom, kneading the flesh there. He more than heard her moan in approval. He felt it. It rang through him, and was barely able to hold back a moan of his own.
"On... On my cock." Cullen said slowly, forcing himself to keep his words stutter-free. He heard Amell moan again as she kissed down his neck until she met his shirt. Then, he felt her slowly slide her way down his body, keeping herself pressed against him, trailing her hands over his chest, making sure to run her fingers over his nipples on the way down. She slipped from his arm, until she worked her way down to her knees, his hand now resting at the back of her head. He wove his fingers into her hair, slowly massaging her scalp and taking care not to pull her hair. Maker help him, it was still down.
Cullen nearly jumped out of his skin as her pressed her lips gently to the tip. She brushed away his hand and wrapped her fingers around the length.
"Marquetta!" He breathed, feeling his heart pound.
"Cullen," She said tenderly. Her tongue flicked over the tip of his erection. "Call me Mara."
"Uh-huh..." He muttered, then let out a loud groan as she took as much of him in his mouth as she could. She kept her hand around the base of him. As she moved her mouth and hand up and down him, her mouth watered, enjoying the taste and feel of him. Her saliva was being worked down by her hand, taking away any harsh friction to her strokes.
"Mara, p-please. I'm..."
Mara pulled away from Cullen, slowly standing up in front of him. He was fighting to breathe.
"Yes, Cullen?" She whispered, pressing herself against him again. Cullen couldn't help himself. A low growl escaped his throat, and that was her only warning. Cullen spun Mara around and pinned her to the wall with his body, and holding her arms above her head. He forced himself to stop, to catch his breath and stare at her. Her face was flushed in the dim-lighting, her lips slightly parted. Her chest was heaving as he was sure his was, laboring to breathe and gather his wits. Her eyes were half closed, filled with the desire he had so longed to see in them. He couldn't hold back anymore.
Cullen slowly lowered his head to her's, kissing her gently. He didn't want to scare her away, she had already come to him – done more for him than he ever thought possible. He held her wrists over her head with one hand while his other slid down to work at the clasps at the back of her neck to her robes. Mara felt her heart race with each button slowly undone.
"Mara..." Cullen murmured against her lips as the collar came loose, freeing her shoulders and neck from her robes. "By the Maker, f-for so long – so long – I've wanted you. I can't b-believe I finally have you to myself." As Cullen spoke, he released Mara's arms, letting them fall to her sides. He gently took hold of her collar, and pulled her robe away from her shoulders and down her arms, until her torso was bare to him. He shivered at the sight of her bare breasts, unbound by small clothes. Maker, did she always go without them? He couldn't tell, the robes most mages and apprentices robes were on the thicker side to ward against the constant draft. But now, that ever present chill was working to Cullen's advantage, already Mara's nipples had formed into pert pebbles, just waiting – begging – to be tended to.
Mara gasped, arching her back as Cullen took a nipple in to his mouth. She whimpered as he sucked and nibbled at it greedily while he worked her robes down her waist and past her hips. She felt him moan against her breast as he realized she wore no small clothes either. Her robes pooled at her feet, forgotten as Mara stood nude against him, pinned to the stone wall still. She ignored the cold, jutting rock as it dug into her skin while Cullen continued to ravish her breast with his lips, teeth, and tongue.
"Cullen..." She gasped, weaving her fingers into his hair. "I need you." Cullen moaned again, straightening up. He pressed her into the wall, grasping her hips tightly as he ground his erection against her belly. Oh, how he wished this could be done differently, he would have preferred to take her in a bed, where they could make all the noise they wanted, how ever many times he wanted. Maybe, once she passed her Harrowing, he could come to her room in the night, and have her all to himself.
Cullen grasped Mara by her rear, and lifted her against the wall, his heart racing again as he lifted his head to look into her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his lips. Mara felt Cullen slip a hand between them, and then she felt the tip of his member probing her. She shivered as Cullen pulled out of the kiss and nibbled at her neck.
"A-are you – I mean – i-is this y-your first..?" He asked, lifting his head again. Marquetta nodded, her eyes lidded as she felt him continue to slide the tip against her. He shuddered, forcing himself to go slow. He was afraid that as soon as he was inside of her, he wouldn't be able to hold back. "I've h-h-heard his hurts th-the first t-t-time for women. Let me know if you w-w-want me to s-st-stop."
"Cullen, please, I need you inside of me!" Marquetta begged. He groaned, unable to resist any longer. He started slow, biting back a moan as he buried his face in the nape of her neck. Marquetta gasped at the sweet intrusion. And this was just the tip of him. She wanted more so desperately. She began to whimper, wiggling her hips against him. Cullen stilled, shivering.
"M-M-Mara, I need you to-to let me-"
"Cullen, please! More!" She begged softly, wishing she could cry out instead. Cullen moaned, and before he could stop himself, he hilted himself inside of her. He stilled as he felt Mara stiffen against him. His eyes widened as he pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were closed tightly, and she was biting her lip.
"Mara, are – are you alright?" He asked cautiously. While he felt absolutely amazing, deep inside of her, he found it easier to put that aside when the woman he adored – wholeheartedly and truly worshiped – was in pain, and he caused it. He felt disgusted with himself for being so rough with her when he knew it would be painful for her at the start. He stared at her patiently, and she didn't reply. "D-d-do you want to stop?"
"No!" Marquetta all but cried out. She opened her eyes and stared at Cullen, wrapping her arms tightly around the back of his neck. "Don't you dare!" She said, letting her lips crash down against his. She began grinding her hips against his, making Cullen moan loudly into her seeking mouth.
All caution was thrown to the wind as Cullen took Marquetta against the wall, unable to help himself as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.
"By the Maker, Mara, you feel so good." Cullen moaned, finding himself stutter-free for once.
"Please, harder, Cullen!" She begged. Culled growled. He was so close already, teetering on the edge of what little control he had. He felt as if his breath was stolen away as he felt her tighten around him.
"Maraquetta!" He rasped, tossing his head back as he pounded into in an uncontrolled frenzy. She whimpered as she felt him come inside of her, gasping for air. He groaned, pressing her into the wall, his knees nearly buckling on him. Cullen shivered as he felt Maraquetta's fingertips ghost across the back of his neck. They remained like that in silence, Cullen holding her as he leaned the two of them into the wall with his face buried in her neck, Maraquetta's legs wrapped loosely around his waist.
"I-It's getting – late." Cullen stuttered out.
"Mhmmm." Maraquetta nodded in agreement
"Wh-what about you?" Cullen asked, lifting his head to look at her. He held back a gasp, she was positively breath-taking, her short brown hair tousled about and framing her face. Her cheeks were still flushed, and her eyes were filled with a hazy of lust and desire – for him. She smiled at him, pressing a tender kiss to his lips, placing a hand to his cheek.
"This was for you." She said softly against his lips. He pulled her tight against him, deepening the kiss.
"Thank you..." He whispered quietly as he pulled away. Marquetta unwrapped her legs from Cullen's waist as Cullen pulled out of her. She shivered at the loss of his body against her's – inside her's – but smiled when he turned around to give her privacy while she dressed, and he redid his pants and adjusted the laces. Once her robes were pulled back on, she walked toward Cullen and placed a hand on his shoulder. He slowly turned around to find her smiling at him. She turned around and brushed her hair out of the way, showing she still needed her robes buttoned. Cullen smiled at her as she looked at him over her shoulder. He stepped closer to her and began to clasp the back of her robes closed. Cullen pressed tender kisses to her back, trailing up to her neck, followed by the buttons of her robes. She turned back around to face Cullen and pressed a tender kiss to his chin. Cullen smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
"So, this is what I get for sneaking into the library past curfew?" She teased. "Maybe I should break the rules more often?" Cullen knew she was joking, but his inner-templar tempted him to warn her against doing that. It was a surprise they didn't get caught tonight! Maybe the Maker was watching over them, blessing their union somehow.
"It is late though," Marquetta admitted sadly before pulling away from him. "And I have my Harrowing any day now." She frowned at that thought. What if she didn't survive? What if she were to become an abomination instead? She's heard tales of apprentices taking too long in the Harrowing Chamber and being cut down just on that alone. Maea shivered as Cullen pulled her against him. Then, she relaxed, taking a deep breath and resting against him.
"Y-you'll do f-fine." He reassured her. He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Come, y-you should get to bed, or else you'll-ll fall asleep in-instead of simply walking into the f-fade." Marquetta giggled as Cullen wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She smiled up at him before stepping away to gather her almost forgotten things on the table. She returned to him, hugging her books and satchel to her chest, blushing lightly as he wrapped his arm around her again and led her away from the library quietly, wary of patrolling Templar.
"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind."
― William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream
I believe the prompt was something along the lines of 'F!Mage catches Cullen masterbating. Anon, take it from there.' Lol
There you have it! Now, if only I could sit down and work on my other fics like I want to... Le sigh.
And I just realized how much has changed since I've last had access to it on a decent, working computer. Wow... I really like how it shows you how many favorites a fic has, especially because some people are too nervous to review a fic, don't have the time, or don't know what to say in the review. Instead, they'll favorite to come back to it later - whether to read it again or review it later, if they're memory is better than mine ^^;
I'll be in touch, computer access allowing, of course... Ugh.