want to share a couple snippets. One from the Dragon Age Inquisition story I am working on, set during the prologue.
The other is from my Baldur's Gate 3 story, also set during the prologue. I like writing prologues apparently. (TW body horror, but nothing that isn't in already in the game.)
Dragon Age
With one last furtive glance at the soldiers, Araniel shoved the sputtering mark in her pocket; then, she sped up her pace enough that she could fall in beside Solas and Varric.
They both glanced at her, while Araniel dipped her head. She avoided directly looking at them, keeping her voice low.
"Do either of you have a spare weapon?" she asked.
Solas lifted one eyebrow; Varric raised both.
"Sorry, Dalish," the dwarf said with a smile that was more of a grimace. He gestured at his crossbow over his shoulder, the rich red undertones of its wood shiny in the Breach's light. "I barely convinced the Seeker to let me have Bianca back. They wouldn't even return Chuckle's staff — and they like him."
Araniel glanced at Solas's staff, with its wood wrapped in an oily leather and a spiky metal club attached to the top. It was a simple thing, similar to what Deshanna had had Araniel train with when she was first honing her magic. It was not meant for anything complex, and would only handicap a skilled mage — which was probably the point.
If it bothered Solas, he didn't show any sign of it. Instead, he huffed a quiet laugh at whatever expression crossed Araniel's face.
"The Breach has made strange bedfellows of us all," he commented lightly. "But trust and sense remain in short supply."
Baldur's Gate
Across the way, through the broken hull, you can see a pathway that leads into a forest. On said path is wagon with barrels stacked around it. It shouldn't make your heart soar, but it does. Signs of people. At last.
"Look," you say, pointing, and the relief that goes through the others is palpable. The four of you start off eagerly, ready to be free, to escape, to find the wagon's owner or owners and hope, pray, they can help.
You don't make it far.
"Wait," Shadowheart says and holds out her arm to stop all of you. "Just ahead."
From the opening ahead of you, two of the mind flayer's brain creatures scuttle in, talons clicking on the chitinous floor. When they see you, or sense you, they pause. You can see the air ripple around them, that energy that they emit when they're communicating with each other.
"Intellect devourers," Gale murmurs from behind you, finally giving you a name for them. He sounds fascinated.
"Disgusting beasts," Astarion spits.
"What is it they're carrying?"
You see what Shadowheart is indicating — the devourers have their tendrils wrapped tight around something you can't make out. The answer to what it is comes when another of the devourers scuttles between them, tendrils tugging it fully into your view.
It's a man.
His arms and neck are coiled tight in the brains' tendrils, like a snake squeezing its prey. The man, a tiefling, is dead, red skin a pale pink, with large gashes that have torn straight through his simple wool shirt. You realize the blood coating him is wet; far too wet and fresh be from someone who died when the ship crashed.
Where did he come from? you think. Did these creatures kill him?
Out of the corner of your eye, you see more movement. There are other brain creatures emerging all around you: the floors above; from the crevices of the broken hull, creeping out from the shadows cast by the walls. Near you, another one crawls over from atop one of the large gray sponges to perch at the edge. They seem drawn in by your presence, but you sense no hostility. Merely … curiosity, if the way the one above you tilts down toward you, as if looking at you, is any indication. You feel the energy pulse around it, and your tadpole shifts forward to meet it.
A presence reaches into your mind, like the creature from ship, Us, did. Reverence, love and subservience fill the connection, sensations that make your tadpole wriggle. Like before, you — or is it the tadpole? — feel… pleased.
Then, a query is pushed into your mind with a reverberating hum, two child-like voices speaking at once.
Your song, the devourer asks you. Why do you not sing?
There's no answer you can give it, and you feel the creature quiver in… sadness? Remorse? Its tendrils weave in the air. The song. The song. Where is your song? it asks again, distressed.
Your tadpole twists, as if trying to avoid the sensation.
Description: When Cody leaves everything behind, Seth is there to pick up the pieces, much as he always was before.
Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI
A/N:
Well..... This is a beast. The inspiration bug hit me so now you get to deal with this. It's very Seth focused and Cody is kind of a dick but it's fine. Everything is fine 😁
*italics indicate text messages*
Tag list: @nightmare-freakin-viper @katries
*let me know if you wanna be added*
Marisa chewed the inside of her cheek, the unanswered text message staring back at her mockingly as she paced the corridor of the locker room. She'd given Cody at least 24 hours to cool down before texting him, letting him know how much he'd hurt her feelings, but she was still willing to talk. He was still her best friend, after all, despite the way he acted. She understood he was under an intense amount of stress, but that didn't give him agency to speak to her the way he did.
Four full days and dozens of unanswered texts later, she'd still had yet to hear from him, let alone any indication that he'd even seen her texts. What really concerned her was that she hasn't seen him at shows, despite him being scheduled. Cody never missed a show he was scheduled for, the workhorse and Dusty's voice in the back of his head making him unable to stop, even if he desperately needed to.
Marisa continued to pace, the anxiety continuing to bubble under skin, as she typed out yet another text message that she was almost certain would go unanswered.
She lifted her head, slightly perking up as she spotted Cal heading to their makeup station. She was lucky she was scheduled to get her makeup done in just a little while, maybe she could ask Cal about Cody.
Cal has known Marisa since they were 14 years old, in high school gym where Marisa was convinced she'd be a wrestler and Cal just liked staring at the boys in tight unitards. 12 years, Cal worked in makeup and was still Marisa's biggest supporter and voice of reason. They also knew the entire saga of Marisa and Cody with the added complications of one Seth Rollins. Cal knew more about her than anyone, which was a blessing and a curse in many ways. They were the voice of reason but also lived for the drama of it all. They knew what to say to talk Marisa off a ledge on more times than she could ever thank her for.
Marisa sighed as her thoughts ran wild, deciding to make her way over to the make-up room where Cal was setting up their station for the day. She tapped on the door lightly, so as not to startle them.
They turned around, smiling wide and gesturing her in. “Hey boo! Come on in, just getting set up for you.”
Marisa smiled, walking into the room. “Hey, have you heard from Cody?”
Cal paused, almost frozen in place. A look of concern and confusion washed over her face before realization set in. “Oh… oh babe, did you not see the memo? Did he not tell you?”
Marisa raised an eyebrow, equally confused as the anxiety sat heavy in her stomach like a lead weight. “Tell…. Tell me what?”
Cal stood silent, their brow furrowed as they contemplated how to proceed with the information they'd just learned. Marisa stood confused, the feeling of anxiety reemerging as she tried to discern what the hell was going on.
“Cal, tell me what?” She asked again, her voice more panicked than she realized.
Cal let out a heavy sigh, shaking their head before pulling out their phone. They tapped the screen for a moment before turning it to face them, showing the internal memo from Hunter.
“Babe, he's been released.” Cal said, finally breaking the silence.
Marisa stood dumbfounded, confusion on her face as she felt a range of emotion that she couldn't even begin to articulate. “No, no way. No way.”
Her mind immediately went to the worst case scenario, thinking back to the meeting he'd had with Hunter and Vince the week prior. It couldn't have gone that bad, could it?
Marisa quickly pulled up her phone, checking her email and seeing the same memo from Hunter. A quick search of Google pulled the article from the official WWE website, confirming her fear.
How could he be gone?
And how could he not tell her?
“I'll… I'll be right back.” She said, quickly stepping out of the office. She took a screenshot shot of the website, sending a screenshot to him with a text.
“What the fuck???”
She bit back the frustration she felt, wanting to know what happened. She needed to understand what was going on.
Her phone buzzed in her hand, causing her heart to leap as she saw he FINALLY responded.
“Oh… yeah.”
She wanted to scream in frustration. His nonchalant response irritated her more than it probably should have. She had been on edge all week, fearing that she'd ruined their friendship.
She quickly typed a reply back, chewing her lip.
“Really? Four god damn days and I find out you've been released and all you can say is ‘oh yeah’?? Cody, what the fuck?”
“Look Ris, I don't think now is the right time to talk about this”
“Then when would you like to talk about it?? Cuz now seems like as good of time as any”
“Please let's just talk about this later, okay?”
“What happened? Was the meeting that bad?”
“Had nothing to do with the meeting. ”
“Then what the hell happened?”
“I asked to be released.”
“... What?.. when?? Why??”
“A few days ago. I just couldn't be there anymore.”
“I… I mean I understand but why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say anything?”
“As if you would have even cared.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Of course I would have cared about you deciding to quit??”
“It just seemed like you were to busy having Rollins head up your skirt”
“Are you actually kidding me right now? I told you nothing happened! And besides, we've already had this conversation.”
“Whatever you say, Marisa.”
“So you decided to leave and not tell me because you have this stupid idea that I'm somehow sleeping with Seth when I'm not, and I'm not even your girlfriend, a decision that YOU made by the way. Is your ego that fragile?”
“Can you for once not make something about yourself? The world doesn't revolve around you.”
“You know what, fuck you. Good luck wherever you end up.”
She wiped the stray tears from her eyes, shoving her phone back in her pocket and making her way back to her locker room.
She felt sick to her stomach, anger, sadness and the slight of betrayal weighing on her.
WrestleMania was less than two weeks away and he’d promised her he'd be there for her big match. She didn't blame him for leaving. How could she? She of all people knew exactly how miserable he was. But he could have told her. He broke a promise to her, all because of a misunderstanding and his ego, which has plagued their relationship since the start of their intimacy. It's the reason he'd never put a label on their relationship and the reason no one was allowed to know the full extent of their situation.
Her and Seth had history, but that was all it was. History that was intense and had Marisa questioning everything, but that also fizzled like an explosion once Seth betrayed them all. They'd managed to get back to being mostly friends with each other, but Marisa always felt hesitant to trust him fully.
Marisa felt a shoulder bump into her as she scurried, almost falling to the ground. She looked up, spotting brown eyes staring back at her, a look of almost concern on his face.
“Hey hey, speed racer, where ya goin in such a hurry?” Seth said with a lighthearted chuckle.
“Hey um… sorry, I didn't mean to..” She stammered over her words, the thoughts racing and her nerves feeling frayed.
“You're good, darlin. What's up?” He said, placing a hand on her cheek, brushing the stray strands away from her face.
“Um.. he's gone.” She let out a heavy sigh.
Seth looked confused at first, before it registered what she was talking about. She could see the ghost of a scowl form in his face that was replaced near instantly.
“Yeah, I heard the pretty boy up and left. You holding up okay?” He asked, his hand still resting gently on her cheek, his thumb stroking absentmindedly against her cheekbone, sending a slight shiver up her spine that she did her best to ignore.
“He didn't even tell me.” She said, feeling tears well up in her eyes once more.
She didn't think the fight was that bad, considering the actual screaming matches they'd had before that usually ended with them tangled together with sighs of his name falling like a rainstorm on a quiet summer evening.
“Well that was awfully shitty of him. But you already know how I feel about him.” Seth said. She knew he was doing his best to hold back, him knowing how close the two were without knowing the extent of their… friendship.
“Look, I know it's a bummer but he had to do whatever he had to do. He's a shithead for not giving you a heads up, but that's on him, not on you.” He said, his words having just a bit of bite to them but made her smile regardless.
“Yeah. You're right, I guess.” She said, running her fingers through her hair. “Thanks”
“You never have to thank me, sweetheart.” He said, pulling her into a hug. She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, needing to feel at least a bit grounded. She felt raw and vulnerable, and she was damn grateful he was here.”
“Hey. How's about after the show, I come to your room. We watch some movies, have a drink or two and you can forget about that asshole.” He said, a cheeky smile on his face as his hands found either side of her cheek.
She smiled back, rolling her eyes just a bit. “Sure. Sounds better than mopeing I guess.”
“Great, we can ride together after the show, if you'd like.” He said with a smile.
“Sure, yeah, why not.” She smiled. She definitely wouldn't mind the company, knowing all she'd do is sit around and let her mind wander. Instead, she'd get to reconnect with an old friend, considering they hadn't really had it since she decided to forgive him.
“Great. See ya then, butterfly.” He said, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. It once again lingered longer than it normally should before he showed back smiling before scooting past her to the men's locker room.
She let out a heavy sigh, staring at her phone, a missed message from Cody. She decided she didn't want to deal with it right now and decided to focus on her promo tonight.
She'd worry about everything later
~
She squeezed the muscle on her neck, the stiffness radiating through her body as she adjusted herself in the car. Seth glanced over at her, a chuckle falling from his lips.
“Hell of a bump you took. You sure you're okay?” He asked, a hint of concern on his face as his hand found her knees, giving a gentle squeeze.
“Yeah, I'm good.” She groaned a bit. “Just fuckin hate apron bumps.”
“You don't gotta tell me, those things fuckin suck. You took it like a champ though.” He said, giving her knee another squeeze.
“Yeah but now my shoulder is fucked. Definitely gonna need an ice pack.” She groaned. An ice pack and a hot shower was all she craved.
“Well lucky for you, we have arrived. I'll get the movie set up, you go get comfy.” Seth said as he pulled into the parking lot, pulling into an unoccupied space and shutting off the car.
His hand lingered on her knee for a moment before opening his door and sliding out of the door.
She unbuckled herself, grabbing her bags from the trunk and following Seth inside the hotel where everyone was staying.
Several people had already asked her about Cody, the news taking everyone by surprise. She just shrugged and kept quiet, her memory flashing to their fight. She also remembered she had an unread text from him that she wasn't sure she could bring herself to answer.
Seth went to his room to put his stuff away since they had the next two nights off. She went to her own room, kicking her shoes off and pulling out of her phone.
She read the missed text from Cal, sending a quick reply. She bit her lip, her finger hovering over the missed message from Cody that sat in the back of her mind for the majority of the day. Before she could tap to open it, she heard a knock on the door.
She stood up, making her way over and opening the door, allowing Seth to enter the room.
“Hey hey, hope ya didn't miss me too much.” He said with a cheeky grin.
“Considering you've been gone all of two minutes, I'd say not so much.” She said, rolling her eyes and laughing.
“Ouch, okay. Don't gotta hurt a guy's feelings like that.” He said, laughing as he put his hands up in joking defense. She smirked and rolled her eyes at him, gesturing for him to sit on the bed.
“What'd you wanna watch?” She asked, glancing back at him as she pulled her sleep clothes out of her bag.
“Dealer’s choice. Tonight's about making you feel better.” He said, a smile so earnest of his face, if nearly made her heart clench.
She often wondered what life would be like had her and Seth made it off the ground all those years ago. Had Cody not come back into the picture and had he not joined the authority. Had she been willing to let Cody go and give Seth what he wanted.
“Hm…. Mean girls.” She said with a smile.
“Oh you gotta be kidding.” He said with an eye roll and a playful groan. It was the movie she forced him to watch many a night down in Florida whenever she was in a mood. He watched it every time, faux complaining about how much he hated it but the laughs he let out that he attempted in vain to hide, speaking quite the contrary.
“Oh come on, you love that movie!” She said with a smile, her tone almost pleading.
“I absolutely do not. But if it'll make you feel better, I'll suffer through it again.” He said, letting out a dramatic sigh.
“You’re a terrible liar, Rollins.” She laughed. “But I appreciate you always.”
“Anything for you, butterfly.” He said, his voice lowering and his eyes going soft as a smile settled on his face. It once again caused her heart to flutter, but she chose not to think about it.
“I'm… gonna go hop in the shower really quick.” She said, avoiding his eyes.
He nodded, a smile still on his face as she turned and made her way toward the ensuite bathroom. She shut the door to the bathroom, turning on the shower head and waited for the water to heat up. She took a breath, the images of the blue eyed man flashing in her head, reminding her how desperately she wanted to talk to him, but she couldn't bring herself to. She was too raw right now and she knew she'd lash out at him, despite her understanding of why he left.
It wasn't that he left, it was how he left. They'd been friends for 8 years at this point, she would have at least thought he'd given her the courtesy of a goodbye.
She shook the thoughts out of her head, focusing on the night she had with Seth planned and jumped in the shower, looking forward to a very welcome distraction.
The hot water blasted the sore muscles in her neck and shoulder, easing some of the tension from the hits and falls she took in her match earlier that evening. She was thankful they had the next few days off because she could already tell she would be a walking bruise the next morning.
She turned the shower off, stepping out as the cool air hit her wet skin, causing a slight shiver to run down her spine. She dried herself off, slipping her clothes on. She saw the flashing light on her phone, indicating an unread notification and she knew what it was. It had been flashing all evening, taunting her. She shook her head, grabbing her phone and drying the rest of her hair before stepping out of the bathroom.
“Hey, feeling any better?” Seth said, having already made himself comfortable on the Queen sized bed in the center of the room, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone.
“Yeah, much.” She said with a smile, sliding next to him, leaving just enough distance between them.
“Oh come on, you can scoot closer, I don't bite. Though I know you're into that.” He said with a smirk and a wink, causing a wild blush to creep across her cheek.
“Can you not?” She said with a giggle, feeling the flush spread over her.
Seth knew her so well in many intimate ways, almost as well as Cody did. She'd spent many a night in her shitty apartment in Florida with him, tangled together while she tried to forget the blue eyed man who refused to put his ego aside for her own feelings.
Seth made it very clear what he wanted, and it was always her. He made it known and had no issues kissing her in front of everyone without hesitation. He'd hold her hand and tell her how beautiful she was no matter what other eyes were on them. It was nice to be wanted so openly instead of having to sneak off to an office just to avoid speculation.
She just wished she could let herself be with Seth, but Cody was always in the back of her head. He was her best friend and the love of her life. And that was the worst part of it all.
“Aww, come on sweetheart, I'm just messing with you.” He said cheekily, poking her side. “Let's get the movie started, I already ordered food.”
She smiled and rolled her eyes, opting to scoot a little closer. The movie started playing and she got lost in the nostalgia of how much this movie truly brought her comfort.
After a moment, they heard a light tap on the door, signifying food had arrived.
“I got it.” He said, squeezing her thigh for a moment before standing up and heading to the hotel room door.
She bit her lip, checking her phone, his name still sitting at the top of her screen. She sighs, opting to finally open the message. She was almost surprised that there were several.
“You’re acting like a child, Marisa.”
“Why am I always the villain here?”
“Fine, I'm the asshole. Is that what you want from me?”
“Just…. Say something.”
She groans, squeezing her eyes shut as the emotions she'd pushed down for most of the day washed over her.
She opted to respond finally.
“You are an asshole. And I don't want anything from you, Cody. I never have.”
She was surprised to see him typing back almost immediately, as if he's been waiting by the phone.
“I know I am. But you're making it seem like I held no regard for you or your feelings.”
“And how exactly did you? Cuz last I checked up and leaving without so much as a goodbye wasn't showing very much regard.”
“Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I acted but you don't understand.”
“You never let me understand. Instead you made a decision, as is your right, but I also have a right to be upset.”
“How can you be upset with me for doing what I needed to do for myself?”
“You really think THAT'S what I'm mad about? I told you I understand that. What I don't understand is why you didn't care enough to tell me outside of your silly idea that I'm sleeping with someone that I'm definitely not.”
“How do I know that? How can I possibly believe that with the way he's basically all over you.”
“And why does it matter? He doesn't know anything about us, and you're not my boyfriend.”
“You don't have to keep reminding me of that.”
“Clearly I do, since it was your goddamn decision.”
“Maybe I made the right decision.”
Marisa inhaled sharply, feeling the sting of tears prick her eyes. She typed by a quick reply
“Well maybe you fuckin did. Fuck you.”
“Ris, I didn't… I didn't mean it like that.”
Marisa tossed her phone on the nightstand, gripping her head with her hands. Her cheeks were red, flush with anger and sadness, and she felt the tears pooling in her eyes, threatening to spill over for what felt like the hundredth time today. She squeezed her palms to her eyes, willing herself not to cry again. She couldn't keep crying over him. Not when he didn't even seem to care.
“Food's here!” Seth said, holding the container in his hand as he made his way back to the bed. He paused for a moment, his jovial smile quickly replaced by a look of concern as he caught sight of her, placing the food down on the end table near the bed.
“Hey… what's up, sweetheart?” He said, sliding next to her and placing a hand on her leg. He looked in her eyes, trying to read the expression on her face.
She looked up, shaking her head and attempting a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. “Nothing.. I'm good, I promise.”
“Ris, you're an awful liar. What's going on?” He said, placing his hand on her cheek, lifting her head slightly, causing her to look at him once more
She sighed, her eyes closing before a brief moment as she attempted to find the words. “Cody texted me. Made the mistake of responding when I definitely shouldn’t have…”
Seth furrowed his brow, his body tensing. “What did he say?”
Marisa shook her head, not wanting to bring the mood down any further than she already had. She knew how Seth felt about Cody, having seen them nearly come to blows on many occasions, and she didn't want to deal with the venom that he would spit simply at the mention of his name. In addition, he didn't know the full extent of their relationship, if it could even be called that, and she'd rather keep it that way. She really didn't want to open that can of worms if she didn't have to.
“It's.. it's not important.” She said with a sigh, avoiding his eyes yet again.
“Well it was important enough to make you cry, so I'd say that matters to me. But I won't press the issue if you'd rather not talk about it. Let's just eat and finish the movie, okay?” He said, a hint of frustration on his face that quickly faded and was replaced with a soft smile.
She smiled, nodding, trying to get her emotions in check in an effort not to completely derail the evening. “Yeah, sounds good…. Thank you “
“Of course darlin.” He said as he smiled, stroking her cheek with his thumb once more before standing up and grabbing the room service containers and handing her the food.
It looked great, but her appetite was essentially non-existent. She fiddled with her fork, scooting the food back and forth as Seth sat next to her, randomly chuckling at parts of the movie as he ate.
Her mind wandered to the past week and how things had shifted drastically from what she imagined. She was supposed to be overjoyed. Preparing for the biggest match of her career with her best friend by her side. Instead, he was gone and acted like she was the bad guy for being upset. He’d never lashed out at her like this. She knew he'd been struggling, but she never knew it could have been partially her fault.
“You're a million miles away, butterfly. What's going on?” Seth said, pausing the movie and raising an eyebrow.
“Hm? Oh, I'm good just… mania next week.” She said, partially lying.
“Sweetheart, you haven't even touched your food and you love Mac n cheese. You know I'm here for you, just tell me what's up.” He said, shifting to face her.
She let out a sigh, hating that he could easily see through her. “Just… the fight I had with Cody..”
Seth furrowed his brow, but stayed silent.
“It's just stupid, you know? It's like I'm the bad guy for being upset that I didn't at least get a heads up.. especially considering he requested his release.” Marisa sighed, running her hands through her hair.
“I get it, darlin. But you're not the bad guy cuz he decided to let his ego win yet again. You had a right to know if you're as close as it seems you are. But… and you know how I feel about him, maybe it was the decision he needed to make.” Seth said, placing a hand on her leg.
She nodded, knowing he was right. “I know it was…. Doesn't mean it doesn't suck.”
Seth offered a sympathetic smile, pulling her into his chest. “Well I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Not again.”
Marisa sighed, breathing in his scent and felt herself calm down. She listened to his heartbeat for a moment, her breathing syncing with the rhythm. Seth always had the ability to calm her. She'd missed this. She'd missed him.
After a moment, Seth pulled away but didn't speak. His thumb found her cheek again, stroking gently. He stared at her for a while, almost studying her face.
Marisa felt the butterflies flutter to life as she stared back, noticing his eyes dart to her lips and back.
“Seth..” She started to speak, but was cut off by his lips meeting hers.
It was gentle, no rush or force behind it, but still desperate enough to take her breath away. She hesitated for a moment, her mind racing through a million thoughts before she could process what was happening.
Before she could even react, he pulled away, looking at her again. He almost looked nervous, the fear that maybe he's crossed a line.
“Ris, I'm… I'm sorry I didn't…” He started. Before he could finish, she pulled his shirt, drawing him back to her and kissing him again, pouring every once of emotion she had into it.
His hands found her waist, dragging her on his lap. Her hands clung to his shirt as he slid up her back, causing goosebumps to erupt over her skin, and a shiver to roll down her spine. His hand rested on her neck, pushing her in to deepen the kiss.
She never forgot how it felt to kiss Seth. How passionate but gentle he was. He was attentive and caring and made her forget all the fucked up emotions she felt.
She felt his hand creep further up her neck, twisting into her hair and giving a slight tug, causing a gasp to escape her lips. He took the opportunity to further explore her mouth with his tongue, re-familiarizing himself with her. She let out a low moan, her hands moving to the hem of his shirt, slipping her hands under the edge to rest in his stomach. They separated only briefly, allowing him time to remove the shirt and toss it in a random direction. He did the same to her own shirt, before pulling her back in, his lips colliding with hers once more, never missing a beat.
He flipped them down on the bed, his body weight pinning her under him as he continued to kiss her, his hands traveling from her hair to her neck, stopping at her collar bone. He pulled away momentarily, his eyes searching her face, almost nonverbally asking permission.
“Ris… I…” He started to speak, but she cut him off, pulling him back down as their lips connected once more, a means of silent confirmation that she wanted this just as much as he did.
He continued his motion, sliding his hand down her chest, squeezing her breast as he moved from her lips to her jaw to her neck, his tongue darting out and tracking the length. His teeth nipped at the soft skin, drawing a whimper out of her. This seemed to egg him on further as he bit down on her neck, eliciting a further gasp.
Her body felt on fire, the weight of him on her a sensation she hadn't felt in years. She felt drunk with his lips on her, his hands sliding from her chest to her stomach to her thighs. The scratch of his nails on her flesh, drawing low whines from her throat as her eyes fluttered shut, completely overtaken by the sensation.
She could feel him pressed against her thigh, twitching and throbbing with every stroke of his hand down her body. She was completely lost in him, the memories of their previous encounters flooding back in her mind like a tidal wave, the soft groans he was making as she rolled her hips into his, sending electricity through her body and causing her brain to short circuit.
She'd be lying if she said she hadn't missed him like this. The way he made her feel, how soft and attentive he was but knowing how to push her to and far beyond her limit in the best way possible. The way he'd whisper filthy words in her ear as he drew her closer to the edge.
She also hated that it still didn't compare to Cody.
Marisa pushed the blonde boy out of her mind, not wanting to think about him while Seth was actively on top of her. She found her hands on Seth's waist, sliding his shorts off as he fell heavy on her stomach, a shudder running through him as the cool air of the room kissed his heated skin.
She took him in her hand, stroking slowly as her eyes fluttered closed, his nails digging into her skin and his teeth sinking into her neck as his moans filled her ears.
“Fuck, I missed you.” He muttered against her skin, rutting his hips into her hand to create more friction as his lips and teeth continued their assault on her neck.
His hands found the waistband of her own sleep shorts sliding them off and tossing them to the side. She felt his weight shift, watching as he sat up, kneeling in front of her.
He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of her in front of him, almost causing her to blush as the nerves building under her skin. It's not like they hadn't been in this position before, but it'd been years since they found themselves like this, her time usually occupied with training or….
She was pulled from her thoughts as she felt the tip of him brush over her clit, causing a low whimper to escape her lips at the friction. His eyes fluttered shut and his mouth fell open as the sensation washed over him, and she remembered why she was so infatuated with him to begin with. He was incredibly handsome, but he was never more beautiful than in the midst of pleasure.
He leaned back in, his lips colliding with hers as she felt him slip into her, their moans intermingling as their lips melded together. He began with a slow thrust to build his rhythm, gripping Marisa's hands once more and pinning them on either side of her head. Marisa moaned loudly, feeling every drag of him in and out of her. It felt euphoric, a welcome distraction for events of the week as her mind went blank, the only thing in her head was Seth.
Marisa wrapped her legs around his waist, rocking her hips in rhythm with his own motions, whimper after whimper falling from her throat as his lips never left hers. It felt intimate, years of emotions flowing into her with each thrust of his hips and groan that fell from his lips. Seth began to pick up speed, his nails digging into her flesh that she was sure would leave behind blue and purple reminders of what they'd done. Marisa whined loudly, high pitched and needy and desperate for release. Her nails dug into his own shoulders, their kiss becoming sloppy and inconsistent as she felt his rhythm become more erratic.
She moaned his name loudly, feeling herself teetering over the edge. Seth continued his movements, his hips snapping sharply drawing more moans and whimpers from her throat.
She felt herself clench and her body spasm involuntarily, as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her vision went white and her body shook, riding out his high. Seth groaned loudly, feeling Marisa clench around him as his own orgasm overtook him. His hips sputtered and stalled, riding out their climax together. He bit her bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as his nails continued to sink into her flesh before he finally collapsed on top of her, his staggered breathing hitting her neck.
She felt light as a feather but heavy as lead at the same time, the white noise in her brain slowly fading as she was brought back to the reality of the situation.
And with the reality came the guilt.
A guilt that was unfounded considering she didn't owe Cody anything. They weren't together. They'd never been, by his own design and reasons that would never make sense to her.
But why the hell did she feel like she had cheated on him? Why did she feel so guilty that she had done the one thing he'd accused her of?
Seth lifted his head, glazed eyes and a content smile adorned his face as he gently stroked her hair.
“You okay?” He asked, his voice soft and a look of concern crossing his features.
“Yeah, I'm… I'm great.” She said with a breathless laugh, doing her best to swallow down the guilt that settled heavy in her stomach.
“Good.” He said, placing another soft kiss on her lips.
He slipped out of her, causing a soft whimper to fall from her lips as he rolled off back on the bed. He took his spot next to her, pulling her into his side and throwing the duvet over them.
She laid her head on his chest, her eyes suddenly feeling heavy, the weight of the past seven days crashing over her.
“You can sleep, butterfly. I'll be here when you wake up.” He said, his voice soft as he stroked her arm gently, triggering more goosebumps to form across her skin.
She nodded simply, giving in to the exhaustion of the events of the day, drifting off to sleep, the guilt she felt still weighing heavy in her mind.
~
Seth placed a soft kiss on her bare shoulder, stroking her back gently. Their legs were entangled with each other and she'd fallen asleep pretty quickly after they had finished.
Seth almost forgot what it felt like to hold her this close. To feel her breath hit the side of his neck and to smell the sweet cinnamon sugar of her perfume.
He'd almost forgotten how beautiful it sounded hearing his name rolling off her lips and how he could still make her come apart with little effort. He forgot how good it felt to be inside her, knowing he was the one causing the glorious noises to roll from her throat.
Seth knew this wasn't getting her back. At least, not yet. He knew that she needed comfort after that pompous jackass made her upset, but he was more than happy to indulge her and himself and be a welcome distraction to her mind off him.
Seth felt terrible for being glad he was out of the picture. He knew how Marisa felt about him, them having known each other for years at this point and he knew they weren't as platonic as they tried to convince everyone they were. He constantly caught their lingering glances and the hushed whispers shared between them, but she would never admit it to anyone.
Seth hated Cody. Not just for being a pompous nepo baby with an ego the size of Asia that has had everything handed to him from the time he could crawl, but he was also the reason Marisa broke things off with him once they moved up from NXT. It certainly didn't help matters when he left the Shield in the way he did, which regretted to this day, but of course Cody wouldn't let her move on.
Now that he was gone, maybe they could finally pick up where they left off. Maybe he could finally show her how much he wanted her. How he'd do anything to gain her trust and truly earn her love. and maybe, just maybe, he could finally call her his. Truly and properly with no asterisks next to the declaration.
Seth kissed her forehead gently, brushing aside the strand of hair that remained stuck to her forehead. He smiled at her as he watched her chest rise and fall, her breathing even as she slept soundly.
“I love you, butterfly.” He whispered softly, smiling as she shifted closer to him and nuzzled into his chest.
He could honestly stay like this forever with her. He wished he could. Forget their responsibilities and just enjoy each other again.
So naturally, his bliss was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of her phone.
Seth groaned, reaching over to the nightstand to hopefully silence the call to avoid waking her up. He squinted his eyes, trying to see the name across the screen as the light of her phone hit his eyes.
Cody 😋
Seth bit his cheek hard, to the point the metallic taste of iron lingered on his tongue.
He should ignore it. He shouldn't answer it.
Before he could think better of himself, he hit the button to receive the call.
“Dove, hey. I'm sorry it's late but-” Cody started and Seth had to do all he could to hide his snort.
He sounded flustered, almost relieved that the call didn't immediately go to voicemail. It would have been comical had it not been so fucking pathetic.
“Sorry buddy, wrong person.” He said, his voice calm and collected despite feeling annoyed and slightly amused by the tone in his voice.
The phone was silent for a while, almost to the point Seth had to check that the call was still active.
“...Seth?” Cody finally spoke, after a lengthy pause. The tension was palpable, even through the phone lines.
“The one and only. What do you want?”
“Where's Marisa?”
“Sleeping. We've had a…..busy night.” He said, picking his words carefully, knowing that it would piss him off at the sheer implication of his words.
He knew he could tell him outright, if he so chose. Tell him that she had been pressed in the bed screaming his name not even 30 minutes ago, but he decided to have a bit of tact, as he was sure Marisa wouldn't be too happy with him if she found out.
Another long pause hung over them and Seth waited with baited breath. After another moment, he cleared his throat.
“Look, it's late and Marisa isn't available so unless you have something else..” Seth started, but was cut off almost immediately.
“Did you sleep with her?” Cody asked, taking Seth by surprise. He didn't expect him to ask outright, but Seth knew the idea was driving him crazy. Though he still hadn't expected him to be so direct.
“What?” He asked, making sure he had actually heard him correctly, taking time to process how he should answer.
“You fucking heard me, Seth. Did you sleep with her?” He asked again, his voice sharp and low, an edge of challenge behind it, daring him to answer.
Seth furrowed his brow, feeling the disdain boil in his blood. He had to physically bite his tongue to avoid telling him exactly what they did and exactly what he thought of him. He glanced over to her sleeping form and let out a soft sigh, opting to not blow up as much as he wanted to.
“I don't think that's your business.” He said, his voice filled with irritation. He was holding back his annoyance at the situation, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could play nice.
“Answer the fucking question, Seth.” Cody replied, his voice sounding more frantic, causing a smirk to cross Seth's face.
“I don't owe you a goddamn explanation on anything, Rhodes.” Seth said, raising his voice before lowering it once more, remembering the sleeping girl laying on his chest. “And so what if I did? Your poor little ego can't handle the idea of someone actually treating her how she deserves?”
“Fuck you.” Cody bit back, his voice shaking with anger, causing Seth to become even more amused. He shouldn't be having as much fun with this as he was.
Seth couldn't help the chuckle that fell from his lips, shaking his head in amusement. “Nah, you're not my type, actually. I'll be sure to tell Butterfly you said hello. Now again, it's late so I'm gonna end this now before I say something I absolutely will not regret. Go fuck yourself, Rhodes.”
And with that, Seth hit the end call button. He placed her phone on Do Not Disturb and set it back on the nightstand. He turned over, facing her sleeping figure and smiled once more, brushing the stray strands of her away from her eyes. He placed a soft kiss to her forehead and placed an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He nuzzled his face into her neck, drifting off to sleep.
Rating: Teen - little bit of snogging, but mostly fluff.
Pairing: Merthur (Merlin/Arthur)
Other characters: Gwaine, Percival, Leon & Elyan
Summary: Merlin is forward, Arthur is confused, Gwaine finds it hilarious.
Notes: Cross-posted to AO3. First ever Merlin fanfic, despite being a fan (and Merthur shipper) since its inception.
Arthur wets his lips, his eyes fixed on Merlin’s. He is vaguely aware of the soft cotton of Merlin’s sleeve against the palm of his hand; the warmth of Merlin’s own fingers through the silk of his shirt.
Moments like this happened more with Merlin than he’d openly admit, usually on the eve of battle, or before supposed certain doom. Eyes locking as Merlin tightens the straps on his armour, or passes him on the way out of the great hall. A strange bond hangs between them, as though an invisible thread is wrapped around their souls, pulling them together.
This time, however, instead of being interrupted by one of the knights, or breaking apart with awkward glances and nervous laughter, Merlin does something unpredictable. Both hands fly out to grab the front of Arthur’s shirt, and Arthur barely has time to respond before being pulled roughly through a simple wooden door in a nearby alcove.
The door shuts behind them. Merlin’s fists turn into a surprisingly strong shove, pushing Arthur’s back against some shelves. The contents of the shelf clatter noisily. And then Merlin’s hands are on Arthur’s neck, long fingers curving easily along his jaw, and he is kissing Arthur on the mouth as though he is starving.
Arthur is stunned, but doesn’t push Merlin away. Feeling the same adrenaline that drives his limbs during battle, instinct takes over and he kisses Merlin hungrily back. The next few moments are a blur. His hands find the front of Merlin’s shirt and curl into the fabric to pull him closer. Merlin’s teeth catch Arthur’s lip and the both of them make a noise that blurs between their kisses.
That’s when Arthur pulls back, and can only stare in amazement at a very punch-drunk looking Merlin standing very close to him. He tears his eyes away from the red smudge of Merlin’s mouth and inspects the room around him.
“Merlin, are we in a broom cupboard?”
Merlin swallows, blinking at Arthur in bemusement.
“We might be,” He mutters, laughing softly, “is that- is that a problem?”
Arthur doesn’t get a chance to argue when the moment is interrupted by Gwaine’s voice in the hallway, calling his name. Merlin curses under his breath - another thing that Arthur has never seen him do - and steps back. Arthur feels a confusing jolt of loss when Merlin’s hands leave his throat, but when he opens his mouth to voice the absurdity of the situation Merlin puts his hand over Arthur’s mouth.
Arthur feels a shiver run down his spine when Merlin frowns at him and holds a finger to his lips. The prince stands, frozen in place, and watches Merlin move away, take a deep breath, and dive out of the broom cupboard. The door clicks shut behind him.
“Merlin!” Gwaine exclaims, happy to see him.
“Hi Gwaine, everything alright?” Merlin asks, as if he hadn’t just been snogging Prince Arthur in a cupboard.
Arthur frowns to himself, still pressed stiffly against the shelves as he listens to Gwaine ask Merlin if he’d seen him, and hears Merlin easily lie to Gwaine. Gwaine makes a joke about Arthur never being around when he needs him, and Merlin laughs genuinely. Arthur continues to frown, starting to wonder if he is actually dreaming.
Gwaine’s footsteps recede down the hallway, and then Merlin is wrenching open the cupboard door with a sheepish grin.
“Merlin!” Arthur exclaims angrily, pushing himself away from the shelves and out into the hallway. Merlin flinches back, licking his lips nervously in a way that makes Arthur feel even more confused.
“Sorry, sire. I thought…” Merlin swallows, “I thought you wanted to.”
“What?” Arthur frowns. He has to think about that for a moment, and realises that Merlin thinks he means the broom cupboard activities, and not the lying to Gwaine.
“Oh! Oh, no I uh. I enjoyed that.” Arthur coughs, holding his chin up and looking sternly out of the window just in case Merlin sees any trace of soft emotion in his face. He can feel Merlin staring at him, and his neck prickles in embarrassment.
“I meant. I meant lying to Gwaine,” He looks at Merlin and has to make a conscious effort not to stare at his still kiss-red lips, “and- and shutting me in the cupboard.” He finishes.
Merlin grins at that, hands sliding into his back pockets as he steps closer to Arthur.
“Oh, that’s alright then.” He says surreptitiously, and brushes gently past Arthur towards the door at the end of the hallway. He leaves Arthur standing alone in the corridor, still feeling Merlin’s fingerprints along his jaw, and still feeling Merlin’s kiss on his lips.
“What?!” Arthur hisses, to no-one.
+
When the moment happens again they are in the forest. Gaius had been cursed by a vengeful sorceress, and Merlin had loyally volunteered to venture into the forest to find her, and the cure. Of course, Arthur had to go with him, to make sure he didn’t get killed.
They are sitting by a campfire, using a fallen tree as a makeshift bench. Their knees are almost touching. The endless loneliness of the forest had left doubts in Arthur’s mind about whether he’d be up to the task of ruling Camelot once his father passed onto the next life. He had shared his fears, and Merlin had reassured him in the eternally loyal, deathly serious way that Arthur found brought him comfort on even the darkest nights.
Merlin had made a comment about how all of the knights would gladly lay down their lives for Arthur, and had added that he, too, would die for him.
It was then that their eyes had met, and Arthur felt that same instinctive pull towards Merlin as before. The firelight dances in Merlin’s eyes, painting them half gold, and this time it is Arthur who moves first. His hand finds Merlin’s scarf without looking, and when their mouths meet it is with such force that he wonders if lips can bruise.
Merlin sighs against him, and locks his hands around Arthur’s wrist to pull himself closer. Their movements are just as frenzied as last time, dancing around each other instinctively, their limbs fitting together as though they are made for one another. Arthur feels confusion at the back of his mind, but pushes it down and lets himself get lost in Merlin instead.
He isn’t aware that Merlin is so much closer until suddenly the kissing stops, and Merlin is climbing over to straddle Arthur’s lap. When Arthur looks up at him, the fire is casting a halo around Merlin’s head, and his eyes are dark and fathomless. Somewhere in the fray, Merlin’s scarf has been removed and his neck looks strangely bare without it. Long fingers run through Arthur’s hair at his temple, and his gaze never leaves Merlin’s as he tilts his head and drags his teeth over the pale skin of Merlin’s wrist.
“Arthur,” Merlin gasps his name, and it sounds like a plea.
Arthur finally has a name for that feeling, for that pull he had felt before.
Desire.
It drives him forward, warms his blood and makes him crave everything Merlin is. Arthur raises his hand to bring Merlin’s head down, and growls when Merlin’s teeth catch his lip. He feels as though Merlin is a feast, and he hasn’t eaten in weeks. His hands grip tightly at Merlin’s hips, at his ribs, at his thighs. Merlin’s fingers wind in his hair and pull in a way that ignites fires under Arthur’s skin.
“God, Merlin,” Arthur slides his mouth across Merlin’s cheek, and follows the line of his jaw down into the hollow of his throat. Wonderful sounds bubble over Merlin’s lips, and Arthur feels them rumble against his tongue. His hands slide under the hem of Merlin’s shirt, and his warm stomach jumps under Arthur’s touch.
The shirt comes off quickly, landing with a soft thud somewhere in the forest.
Arthur’s teeth leave dark bruises on Merlin’s chest, and his head blurs with every high, breathless sound that Merlin makes in response. He pulls away when Merlin says his name, and looks up at him with a heated gaze.
Merlin moves away from him then, his pale skin ethereal in firelight. There is an invitation in his eyes, and he offers his hand for Arthur to take. Arthur accepts both, his hand grasping desperately at Merlin’s and allowing himself to be led over to their bedrolls nearby. The night seems to move at pace, a flurry of half-spoken words and breathless gasps, as the two trace dizzying paths into one another’s skin.
When Arthur awakes the next morning, the fire has burnt down to ashes. He can still taste blood on his tongue from where he’d tried to muffle a moan against Merlin’s shoulder, and had broken the skin. His mind swims with memories of the noises that Merlin had made; the way that Merlin curled against his hands and tilted his head back in pleasure.
Arthur looks around himself and notices two things. Firstly, that he is only naked from the waist up, despite his memory telling him his trousers were definitely removed the night before. Secondly, Merlin is nowhere to be seen. For a moment, Arthur wonders if he dreamt the whole encounter.
“Merlin?!” He shouts, pushing his bedroll aside so that he can stand and look around.
“Merlin!” He tries again, finding his discarded shirt on the fallen tree next to the fire. The crunching of branches whips his head around, and the sight of Merlin appearing between the trees fills him with relief.
“You’re awake!” Merlin smiles, and holds up his hands to show Arthur why he’d been gone. A pile of plump strawberries sits on his palms; “I found these for breakfast!”
Merlin carries on with breakfast as though nothing has changed. Arthur watches him, confused and feeling as though he is losing his marbles. Granted, he had never been with a man in that way before, but whenever he had encounters with women his relationship with those women definitely changed. They didn’t just go about their lives as though nothing had happened.
“Merlin,” Arthur starts, standing beside Merlin’s crouching form as he rebuilds the fire.
“Yes, sire?” Merlin asks, distracted.
“Merlin, what’s going on?” Arthur asks, frowning. Merlin pauses, flint and tinder in his hand, and looks up at Arthur.
“I’m building the fire, so I can cook breakfast?” He says, slowly, as though Arthur is an idiot. Arthur glares down at Merlin, and when Merlin says nothing further he sighs loudly. Throwing his hands into the air in exasperation, Arthur walks away from the campsite and in the direction of a stream he recalls is nearby.
“Where are you going?!” Merlin calls after him.
“To the stream!” Arthur shouts back, angry.
+
The next few weeks are hell. Arthur can’t look at Merlin without wanting another taste of what he’d experienced in the forest, and yet still feels anger at how easily Merlin had acted like nothing had happened. There was no-one he knew that he could tell about it either; Gwen wouldn’t understand, and the knights…
Arthur freezes at his desk, his chin resting on his hand. Eyes wide, he realises there is one knight he could talk to, who might even know what was going on with Merlin. Quickly as he can, almost knocking a jug of water over, he rushes from his bedroom and through the castle halls.
When he arrives at the barracks he finds Percival and Leon arm wrestling. The others are nowhere to be seen. As Arthur enters, Percival is distracted and Leon manages to win his first round out of six. He starts to celebrate, but catches Percival’s gaze and follows it to see Arthur stood in the doorway looking lost.
“Everything alright, sire?” Percival asks.
“You haven’t seen Gwaine, have you?” Arthur asks, trying to look casual, and not as if he would go up against a herd of chimera if it meant finding Gwaine.
“I think he’s out in the yard,” Leon tells him, and Arthur thanks him with a breathless smile. The two knights wait for their king to leave before turning to each other, and in perfect unison, with matching amused looks, utter one word.
“Merlin.”
+
“Gwaine!” Arthur shouts across the yard, where Elyan and Gwaine are practising their footwork using blunted training swords. Gwaine pauses in his joke to Elyan, smirk still curling his lips as he turns towards an approaching Arthur and bows flamboyantly.
“Morning, Arthur. What do you need?” Gwaine asks cheerily, always more relaxed around Arthur than his fellow knights. Arthur can’t help but feel he learnt this from Merlin.
“Can I talk to you, privately?” Arthur asks, keeping his breathing steady and his expression stoic. Gwaine inclines his head in agreement, and hands his sword to Elyan. Arthur shoots Elyan a kingly smile, before placing a friendly hand on Gwaine’s shoulder and guiding him away.
Gwaine watches Arthur with amusement, seeing the mask of a king slip away and show the nervous face of a boy as they walk towards a secluded spot. Arthur looks furtively around them, checking for eavesdroppers. Gwaine watches him with a smirk, his relaxed countenance an unwavering juxtaposition to Arthur’s frantic twitchiness.
“Gwaine.” Arthur says at last, confident he won’t be overheard.
“Arthur.” Gwaine parrots.
“I want to ask you something. About Merlin.” Arthur tells him, and frowns when Gwaine’s grin broadens.
“Of course you do. What is it?”
Arthur’s eyes Gwaine with suspicion.
“What do you mean, ‘of course you do’?” He asks. Gwaine brings up a hand to scratch at his beard absently, and shrugs.
“Nothing. What’s your question?” Gwaine folds his arms across his chest, full of easy confidence. Arthur narrows his eyes at him, and wishes he had anyone else he could talk to about this.
“Does Merlin have feelings… for me.” Arthur feels stupid saying the words out loud, and Gwaine’s sneaky grinning isn’t helping at all. Gwaine bites his lip, takes a deep breath, and turns away as though he is fighting the urge to laugh. Arthur watches, incredulous, as Gwaine runs a hand through his long hair and whistles.
“Gwaine, please.” Arthur mutters through his teeth. Gwaine looks at him then, biting his lip and smirking. He makes a small noise and then, as though the floodgates have opened, starts to laugh raucously.
Arthur stands there, frowning, and watches Gwaine have to steady himself against a nearby tree. He doesn't understand what Gwaine finds so funny, and feels his frustration grow with every minute that Gwaine continues to howl with amusement.
“Gwaine.” Arthur warns.
Gwaine only laughs harder.
“Gwaine.” Arthur tries again.
Gwaine’s face streams with tears of mirth.
“Oh for the love of-,” Arthur gives up, and storms off back towards the castle, leaving Gwaine to laugh himself senseless against the tree. As he watches Arthur leave, Gwaine knows he will definitely be telling Percival about this later.
+
Back in his bedroom, Arthur screams into his pillow in frustration.
Stupid Gwaine, he thinks, stupid Gwaine and his stupid laughing.
Sitting up, he throws a few punches at the pillow. Deep down he knows he is more angry at himself for asking Gwaine in the first place, than he is at Gwaine for laughing. Having punched more than a few feathers out of the pillow, Arthur throws it at the door for good measure.
“What did the pillow ever do to you?” Merlin asks as the offending cushion sails past his ear. Arthur almost falls off the bed; he hadn’t heard Merlin come in.
“Merlin!” He shouts, offended.
“...Sire?” Merlin sets the tray he is carrying on the dining table, and turns to look directly at Arthur.
Arthur, seeing red and wanting to give Merlin a piece of his mind, clambers over the bed and strides up to Merlin. He glances quickly at the door to make sure it is closed, but before he can resume being angry at Merlin there is a hand in his hair and a mouth pressed firmly against his own.
Arthur frowns into the kiss, and reaches up to grab Merlin’s wrist. The kiss breaks, and Arthur sees warm confusion in Merlin’s eyes as he pushes him backwards and pins him against the bedroom door. One hand holding Merlin’s wrist above his head, the other flat against Merlin’s collarbone, Arthur glares into Merlin’s eyes.
“What is this?!” Arthur demands, “What’s going on?!”
Merlin frowns back, mouth twisting in confusion. He brings his free hand up to push at Arthur’s chest, shoving him away. Arthur stumbles back, his mind struggling between wanting to resume kissing Merlin, and wanting to dismiss him from his sight.
“What do you mean?” Merlin retorts, rubbing his wrist where Arthur had grabbed it.
Arthur looks at him as though he has sprouted horns. Eyes wide, he flails his hands between the two of them.
“This! Us! The- the-,” He struggles to find the word, and drops his tone to a whisper, “the kissing?”
Merlin blinks at him. Arthur starts to think he may be going mad.
“I um. What do you… want me to say?” Merlin asks slowly.
Arthur realises he isn’t sure. More than anything, he wants to know why Merlin keeps frantically kissing him as though it is his only true desire in life. He wants to understand how, without even saying anything, that Merlin knew that Arthur felt the same.
“Do you like me?” Arthur replies quietly, and the silence that follows is deafening. Merlin’s face, usually so clear to Arthur, betrays nothing of his thoughts.
“...I would have thought that was obvious.” Merlin mutters, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
Arthur feels his ears turn pink, and his mouth goes dry. No wonder Gwaine had laughed at him. Stunned, he steadies himself on the dining table and stares down at his feet.
“I’m such an idiot.” He whispers in amazement. When he turns back to Merlin, Merlin is trying very hard not to laugh. Despite himself, Arthur grins.
The two of them start to laugh, tension gone from the room. Arthur finds himself gravitating towards Merlin, unable to stop himself and not really trying. Merlin’s waist is warm and solid when Arthur finds it with his hand, and when Arthur kisses Merlin he can feel his smile against his lips. As he presses Merlin against the door, their bodies fit together like two halves of a whole, and Arthur finds his confusion is gone.
This month, I am trying my hand at NaNoWrimo. My goal is to write 2,000 words a day so I have plenty of buffer for the day I’m sure to miss this month.
saw a familiar gifset that made me want to post this little part from a Dragon Age Inquisition story I am working on. Set during the Inquisition prologue, when my Dalish Inquisitor, Araniel, first meets a certain dwarf and elf.
"Your bedside manners could use some work, Chuckles," the dwarf joked, which was a name that pulled Araniel out of her somber thoughts. She looked worriedly over at the elf, who was rolling his eyes.
Surely that wasn't his name? she thought.
The dwarf turned to Araniel next, spreading his hands. “Speaking of which, where are my manners? Varric Tethras. Rogue. Storyteller. And if you ask the Seeker, occasionally an unwelcome tagalong.”
Araniel frowned at that. Yet, Cassandra and Varric did seem to know each other. “Are you with the Chantry or…?”
That made the elf snort out a laugh. “Was that a serious question?”
She turned her frown toward him — wasn’t it? — but glanced back when Varric chuckled. “Technically I’m a prisoner, just like you,” he said, playing with his gloves at his wrists. “So you’re in excellent company.”
The elf coughed. “You may reconsider that stance, in time,” he muttered to Araniel.
“Aww. I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles.”
Chuckles rolled his eyes again, but was smiling when he looked back at Araniel. “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions,” he said to her, which was a relief. Though Pride was far more unusual a name than Chuckles — she had never met an elf called that before. “And before Varric bestows an incongruous nickname on your person, you are—?”
“Incongruous?” Varric repeated.
“I have other words,” Solas shot back, smirk playing on his lips. “Absurd. Preposterous.”
Varric cupped his hand over his mouth and whispered loudly to Araniel, “He’s just jealous I’ll come up with a better name for you."
It was the twinkling of music that roused Lavellan from her slumber.
Her eyelids were heavy and difficult to open, her body disinclined to move from her cocoon of warm blankets and furs. With some effort, she lifted her head to look around, but the room she was in was one she was quite familiar with. Her victories as Inquisitor were forever memorialized on its walls, and it made her smile, remembering simpler times.
The chair she was in, made of the most supple of leathers, embraced her like an old friend. The weight of the pelt draped on her bare skin was soft and warm too, beckoning her back to dreams. She almost gave into that desire, content to doze in the warm sunlight coming from the windows, listening to the sweet melody being played.
Yet there was one oddity in the room that tugged at the back of her mind, telling her to focus. She opened her eyes again, frowning at the object in question.
There had never been a piano in the rotunda before.
From there, further oddities began to stand out: The windows on the back wall, for one; the astrarium hidden amongst some boxes; the small side table next to the piano, an elven bass and bottle of wine propped on top of it. None of those items had ever been in Skyhold’s rotunda and never had the room been this small.
The music stopped. The air wavered. She looked back toward the piano.
There was now a large black wolf draped along its bench.
Its ears were flattened as it dipped its head low, tail curled under the legs of the bench. All six of its green eyes blinked at her, body tense as if she had come across it in the forest with its limb caught in a trap.
She reached out to touch the wolf, sliding her hand from its corner of its ear down to the scruff of fur at its neck. The wolf closed its eyes at the touch and pushed into it when she repeated the motion, its wet nose brushing against her arm and tail lifting slightly in a wag.
She smiled, warm and soft. “I didn’t know you played,” she whispered to him.
The wolf opened all its eyes, head jerking up. Then his voice filled her head, and Lavellan felt an invisible weight push against her chest, pressing her back.
Awaken.
Lavellan woke up.
The room was quiet, save from the crackle of the fire and the creak of her bed when she sat up. Past the open glass doors, the Frostback Mountains stood tall and serene against a star-filled sky.
Lavellan sighed.
“Oh Solas,” she muttered before laying back against her multitude of pillows. “Why do you do this to yourself?”
Post the last line you wrote and tag someone for every word in the line.
tagged by @lathbora-virann, thank you! <3
Technically three lines and no context whatsoever:
“It’s so beautiful,” Araniel murmured to Cassandra. She could not look away from the wave of colors stretched across the sky. “I understand why our gods chose to call it home.”
Uhh, that's a lot of words, so I am cheating here: tagging @bossuary, @phoenixqueenwrites, and @elynnism, if you would like to do it!
