Prompt: Medical Play | Uniforms
Pairing: Morgan/Cullen (Walkerford)
Summary: Cullen isn't sure what he hates more - that Morgan looks so incredible in Chantry robes, or that he asked the Hero to wear them into the scene.
Cullen gulps a little when Morgan moves serenely into view, wearing the typical uniform of the Kirkwall Chantry. It's blasphemy, what they're about to do, but then again, it's blasphemy simply to think what Cullen is thinking right now, how the light robes clung to his physique just right, and somehow the fact that his body was entirely covered enhanced the sensation.
He shivers as Morgan pretends not to recognize him. "Commander Cullen, you have requested a physical overview, citing fatigue, irritability, and aggression. I have been assigned by the Revered Mother to conduct the examination. Please remove your clothes, and I will begin."
Cullen swears under his breath, but begins to do so. He soon stands naked before his lover, and for some reason, there is a hot flush of embarrassment crossing his body. He feels exposed, in a way he never has with Morgan. But it isn't an unwelcome embarrassment. It's exciting, to feel as though a stranger is looking at him naked, while being able to have complete trust.
"Hmmm... on a simply visual examination, you appear to be in excellent physical health." Morgan says in that clipped, clinical tone, betraying no hint of interest or excitement, which only makes Cullen feel dirtier, that pleasant variation of embarrassment pulsing through him again.
And then Morgan's hands are on him and Cullen is struggling not to swear anymore, because Morgan's hands have always been deft and skilful, and despite his clinical manner, the touches he receives are not those of a physician.
Morgan probes his stomach muscles, cups his biceps, rolls both his nipples between his fingers, and then strokes a long stripe up the underside of Cullen's cock, making him gasp and quickly coaxing him to full hardness.
"Commander, are you sexually active?" Morgan asks suddenly, casually, as he squeezes Cullen's balls, and the Commander squeaks out a reply.
"Yes, Ser."
"Interesting. And when was the last time you were active?"
Cullen stutters as Morgan's hands trace the grooves between his hips and his abdomen. The head of his cock is now brushing against the fabric of Morgan's robes, and it is supremely distracting. "L-last month, S-Ser. My partner has been away."
"And you have not... seen to your needs?" Morgan asks, still businesslike, even as he gropes Cullen's muscular thighs.
Cullen frowns. "Er... no, Ser."
"Well, there you have it. Your fatigue, your muscle tension, the irritability, the aggression... a simple case of sexual frustration."
Cullen splutters with indignation he only mildly feels. "I- that is- I am stronger than that."
"I suggest you take my advice, Commander, and relieve yourself as quickly as possible. In fact, I will not declare you fit to leave until you do so."
"This is absolutely ridiculous." Cullen protests, but he swallows hard as Morgan stares him down. "F-fine." He takes himself in hand, only for Morgan to slap his hand away.
"Let me. You'll only hurt yourself." Morgan says, businesslike, and almost bored. It should not be as exciting as Cullen finds it, but Cullen is on fire as Morgan touches him. He wants to throw his head back and scream but Morgan simply entrances him. Seeing the man in the Chantry robes use him like this... it has him writhing in place and mumbling words like please.
Morgan pushes him back onto the table and hooks his legs over the robed shoulders of his lover. Cullen begins to tremble as Morgan simply leans down and takes him in his mouth, humming as he does so. Two fingers, dipped in lube but warmed with magic, make their way into his entrance, stretching him open and pressing in further, until Cullen sees stars and bursts, spurts of white fluid spraying onto his chest, his chin. He goes limp and Morgan lets him.
"Such a mess, Commander. I expect you not to neglect yourself so seriously again." Morgan says coldly, and turns on his heel. Cullen barely has the strength to lift his head questioningly before Morgan is back, slipping the robe off over his head and kissing him gently. "Heh, you know I can't stay away for long."
Cullen can't form words yet, so Morgan winks and starts to clean him up with his tongue. The night is only just beginning.
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How do Lana and Alistair respond to Cullen shyly showing off the collar Morgan gave him? And also just the idea of all of them having naked cuddles that can either turn into sweet napping or naughty tickle fights...
Aww, they would be so happy for him! Assuming we're talking modern!au, Lana and Alistair know how much collaring means. Lana would know how amazing it feels to have it put on, and Alistair knows how proud it made him feel when Lana accepted his. Lana would excitedly show Cullen hers (she has an ankle one for safety on the job) and ask him all about how it went and if they did anything special for the collaring. Just all around, friends being so happy for their friends ❤️
I also love the idea of them all having naked cuddles, that's super sweet! They all have fun with each other enough, adding sweet naked snuggles to it is just adding to the awesomeness. Alistair 100% falls asleep before anyone else. He has a natural talent for falling asleep anywhere if he feels like it. And he latches onto whoever is nearest to him, sometimes multiple people if someone small like Lana is closest, like a fucking octopus 🤣
Cullen rarely if ever wears a shirt when they are alone together, and Morgan is hard-pressed to find anything he dislikes about this arrangement. After all, if Cullen is comfortable, Morgan is happy, and seeing a shirtless Cullen lazily cuddling with an overgrown mabari is never an unwelcome sight. And of course, seeing the beautiful rope marks across his pale skin that haven’t yet faded, or the sturdy leather at his throat - it all makes Morgan happy to know that Cullen is his, and that he is Cullen’s.
It’s part of their ritual when they are finally alone for the night. Lock the door from visitors, barring the outside world away. Slowly, tenderly help Cullen out of his armor, out of his shirt. Put Cullen’s collar on if not done already. Kiss and be happy to have made it through another day together.
Cullen notices that Morgan only ever seems to be shy when they are alone together. The man is a step away from being considered vain - he knows he’s handsome and he likes that people think so - but Cullen forgives this because he has seen how Morgan used to think. Fooled into thinking nothing of himself, of fearing himself unlovable. He remembers the soft gasp the other man made when Cullen expressed how attractive he found the Hero, remembers the way Morgan’s breath hitched when Cullen saw him shirtless and fell speechless.
They are a funny pair. Cullen considers Morgan the most beautiful thing in all Thedas, and Morgan thanks the stars each day that he gets to have the love of Cullen, and yet neither think themselves worthy. But always, each will try to convince the other that they are.
Prompt: High Protocol | Collaring
Pairing: Morgan/Cullen (Walkerford)
Summary: Cullen finds comfort in the rules Morgan gives him.
Cullen finds himself anticipating it. Needing it. Morgan couldn't help himself but tell Cullen he had ordered him a collar, even though it was meant to be a surprise, and now it was all Cullen could consider.
Ever since Cullen had hinted to Morgan that he'd enjoy it if their occasional forays into rope and submission would become a more regular thing, Morgan had met his every expectation and gone further. Rules, protocol, the chain of command - these were things Cullen understood, things that gave him purpose and clarity. And these were the things Morgan gave him.
There were rules for how he should address Morgan, and when - "Ser" or "Master" while in scene, "Ser," or "my love," or "Morgan" in private, and whichever name or title felt appropriate in public, generally "Ser Morgan."
There were rules for things down to attire, in that in private chambers, Cullen would be expected to strip naked and only wear what Morgan gave him permission to, and that he was required to remove his armor at night in his office. Morgan pointed out that he would strongly prefer Cullen to keep his armor off unless in combat, but that he wouldn't require it. Still, with his clever touch and affectionate physicality, Morgan provided his own incentive for Cullen to follow his requests.
And most important, there were rules for care as well. That Cullen would never exhaust himself by forcing himself to work through the night. That he would come to Morgan or a healer to help with his headaches. That he would eat regular meals and visit the Herald's Rest twice a week, accompanied by Morgan or not. That no matter what, he ask for help from Morgan if he needed it, whether it was to be advised, or be held, or be bound.
Infractions had their place in the rules, too. Explanation would be required and judgment passed. If required, punishment would be inflicted, whether in spanking, or in enforced chastity.
There were exceptions, of course. Morgan made it quite clear that Cullen would always have a safeword and signal he would be expected to use if the need arose. And points where Morgan himself needed comfort or simply to let them share control. But even these felt within the framework. Allowed and expected from the rules. Regimented and safe.
Cullen knew that Morgan was not necessarily a man of many rules, or with even a modicum of respect for protocol, but the fact that he had come up with and negotiated this framework for him touched him more than he could express.
"Cullen. It's here." Morgan whispered in his ear, kissing his neck. Cullen smiled at him. "Do you have time to come put it on?"
Cullen nodded, and let Morgan lock the doors as he stood and removed his clothes. Cullen had negotiated that they wouldn't move from the tower, so Morgan had imposed the condition that they needed to keep the doors locked after a certain time, and Josephine and Henry had helped him create a message box to allow documents to be passed after hours to be examined once operating hours resumed.
Now naked, he followed Morgan up the ladder and knelt on the velvet cushion acquired for that very purpose. Morgan knelt before him, and Cullen inclined his head. They weren't technically in scene, but Cullen felt it counted. He stayed very still, even as he ached to return the kisses Morgan pressed against his chest and neck. As ever, Morgan read him like a book.
"Speak, Cullen." came the soft command. So different from the others Cullen had taken orders from. Morgan's hand was a soft touch, a guide, a warmth on his shoulder steering him, not an iron fist clutching his heart.
Cullen could barely speak. "Need to touch you. Need to be held."
He was always struck by Morgan's strength. The man was a trifle shorter than him, but could easily lift him. He was deposited on the bed and suddenly arms were around him. Morgan had discarded his shirt, and allowed Cullen to have at him, desperately trying to communicate in touch and kisses what his words felt inadequate to.
"Alright. Be still now, Pup." Morgan whispered, and Cullen obeyed. Pup was something they had discussed, but never implemented, and Cullen was so caught up in this he barely noticed the leather descending in front of his face. But he knew he'd always remember the sudden calmness spreading over his body as Morgan buckled the collar secure around his neck. He belonged. He was Morgan's.
He was not conscious of crying, but his cheeks were wet. He suddenly felt exhausted and slumped into Morgan's arms. There was such lightness around him, as if nothing else but Morgan could possibly exist.
"I love you, Pup. My Cullen." Morgan whispered.
"Yours... always." Cullen whispered back, allowing himself to fall into sleep, as Morgan gently held him and kissed his cheeks and massaged his scalp, hand running through his golden hair.
Day 1 of the #cullenweek prompts from @cullensource!
Cullen knows that the scar on his lip is a distinctive feature of his face. He knows that his body is littered with various scars from injuries and battles he all but remembers. But he has never considered them attractive until Morgan. It sometimes embarrasses Cullen how happy he gets when Morgan gives him such attention.
How he melts when Morgan’s thumb brushes just so - his breath hitches in a soft gasp, the only air he can take in before the thumb sweeps out of the way and Morgan’s lips move to part his own and he becomes lost in the tenderness, in the power of that kiss.
How Morgan’s fingers never seem to avoid the numerous little cuts and scars lining his torso - Cullen remembers a night when Morgan winked at him, wishing to (he shudders pleasantly at the memory) explore him. Cullen had found himself writhing helplessly, his arms and legs stretched out by supple and firm yet soft rope, while Morgan catalogued every divot and ridge, every plane and bump, every scar and expanse of his arms and thighs and torso and hips and neck and face with his fingers and his mouth.
To Morgan, Cullen’s scars are part of him, and Morgan loves each part of him. But the man stresses to him - his scars are part of him, but they do not define him. “We’ve all got scars, Cullen.” Morgan once said to him. “Some deeper than others. But if you look at someone and all you see is their scars... you’ll miss the truth of them, same as you would if you ignored them.”
Cullen doesn’t know if he quite believes what Morgan does - that his scars are another thing to love about him. But he thinks about the scars on Morgan’s body, and how he loves them because each mark is something that Morgan withstood, something he bested in order to reach Cullen’s side.
And he starts to think that maybe scars can be beautiful as well.
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Ahhhhh! Day 11 already? And also omg I’m writing this in February now! Where did my writing time goooooo? For @14daysdalovers celebration! Also technically this is a continuation from the Satinalia prompts where Morgan kissed Cullen under the mistletoe, and Cullen alluded to a proposal that night. And then during a celebration they both snuck away to the tower...
Prompt: Promises
Pairing: Morgan Walker/Cullen Rutherford
Summary: Cullen proposes to Morgan and promises to be his forever
- - -
“That’s a fox. A white fox.” Morgan said flatly. “In the tower.”
Cullen blushed. “Yes, er... he got in through the hole in the roof. Had a broken leg. I nursed him back to health, with Cole’s assistance and... well, he seems to like it here.”
“You have a way with animals, don’t you?” Morgan grinned.
“Don’t shapeshift to make that joke work.”
“Awww, shucks.” Morgan snickered. The white fox gave a huff before moving to a small basket that Cullen had set up, allowing the little creature to descend into the office level of the tower. “We really have to fix this tower.”
“I... I like the animals getting to come in. And getting to see the stars and feel the morning sun.”
Morgan chuckled. “In my world, we have these marvelous things called skylights.”
Cullen rolled his eyes playfully. They had had this teasing discussion before.
“So... I was promised mistletoe.” Morgan had intended to tease, but when he turned around Cullen was holding up a little sprig of the plant with a soft grin. Morgan moved close, kissing the taller man.
Cullen smirked, the scar on his lip twitching. “I think I rather like this tradition of yours. But you’re waiting for me to ask you a question, as I recall.”
Morgan chuckled, leaning back, allowing Cullen to wrap his arms around him and lightly hold him close. “Must have slipped my mind.”
“Allow me to jog your memory.” Cullen said softly. “Morgan Walker, hero of my heart...will you grant me an honor I do not deserve and become my husband?”
Morgan had been expecting it. He had wanted it. But still his mouth dropped open in delight and shock. “I... I, yes! Yes, you idiot, of course!”
Cullen’s smile grew before Morgan kissed him again. And again.
“I promise, Morgan, when the time comes and this Inquisition is over, I shall endeavor to love you as no man has been loved before. I shall be your knight, your sword, your shield, and your blanket when nights get cold. You are my sun and stars and my light.”
Morgan chuckled. “I don’t have a whole speech prepared, but I love you all the same. I’m yours, however long you want me. Promise.”
Day 4 of the #cullenweek prompts from @cullensource!
Cullen hadn’t known that Morgan’s skills in utilizing ropes could be applied in a circumstance outside the bedchamber. Just another enjoyable quirk of his lover’s.
Because when the headaches become so much, and the thirst became overpowering, and the need for lyrium became such that Cullen barely recognized himself as human - Morgan was there for him to lean on.
It had been Cullen’s idea - Morgan made him feel so good when he used the ropes - it seemed the only thing to take his mind off the thirst in his mind. So Morgan had unwound a few coils of soft black rope he had procured from the Iron Bull and looked Cullen deep in the eyes before ordering him to disrobe. Once Cullen stood bare and shining with clammy sweat, Morgan began to wind and wend and weave the rope around him, binding him firmly and adding decorative strands that had the benefit of giving him more sensation to focus on.
Cullen felt himself sinking, falling away from the thirst occupying his brain and into that place where his thoughts were soft and relaxed and hazy.
“You needed this, didn’t you, Pup?” Morgan said softly, helping Cullen to sit down on their bed before wrapping his arms and legs around him.
“Mrrrmmmmppp.” Cullen mumbled listlessly. Words were difficult. Thinking too hard brought the thirst back. He shook his head.
Morgan kissed the crown of his head. “You’re so good for me. Just relax, Pup. I’m here for you.”
Cullen gave another wordless mumble, and Morgan simply pushed Cullen’s face to the side, and grinned as his lover automatically began to nuzzle his neck. Morgan held him, kissed him, and for the night, drove away the thirst.
Day 2 of the #cullenweek prompts from @cullensource!
Mind addled by the Fade as it was, Cullen had a strange first impression of Morgan. To him, the Hero of Ferelden had appeared as a strange creature made partially of light. And this light-figure questioned everything, and as it did so, Cullen found himself gradually able to make out the features of the man within the strange light, blue-green eyes forever branded upon his memory. He had done and said such terrible things that day, but those blue-green eyes had transfixed him, a strong hand held him in place, and a voice filled with fire, a voice Cullen felt came from the Maker himself, admonished him and set him back on the true path.
Cullen met the Hero again in Kirkwall, called him by title and was met with a bright laugh and the insistence he call him Morgan. And again, Morgan was full of questions and challenges and Cullen did not know, but the man and his strange ways and his odd nature was taking hold of him, of his heart and soul. Cullen met the Hero many times in his residency as Knight-Captain, and each time he felt his faith quaver and shake and... not break, but change. Morgan was not an Andrastian, but he was endlessly curious about it, often comparing it to the religions of his own strange land (Cullen theorized he came from Across the Sea), but Ser Morgan the Mysterious never gave more than hints about where he came from.
“I’ve seen it before, Cullen.” Morgan had told him. “People mix up faith and blind obedience. Remember that your Chant and the Chantry are not the same. I’ve heard what goes on in the Gallows. Do you think your Maker and Lady would be proud of what they do to mages? To people like me? Because I’m not so sure.”
Cullen feared and admired his audacity. And his questions settled heavy on his heart.
“Commander of the Inquisition.” Morgan had chuckled, after they met at the Winter Palace. And Cullen found himself relaxing at the sound of his voice. Morgan told him that he had gone looking for him, after Kirkwall. But Cullen refused to see him.
“I did not... I couldn’t see you without having atoned. You... you realized what would happen before I did. You even asked the questions for me but I didn’t... I was a fool, Morgan. Unworthy of your company. Another Templar, who has done terrible things to mages.”
“You aren’t a Templar anymore.” Morgan had told him. “And from what I hear... you are trying. And that is all you can do. I don’t know that these things ever go away. I’ve done things in my life that... that I just have to live with. But every day, I try to be better, and I find peace in that. And I hope you can too.”
Cullen had smiled at him then, and felt a warmth in his heart. A familiar one, but now it came with awareness. This was not just friendship. Nor affection. Cullen thought this particular thing was locked from him. Because this... this was love.
