You’d seen him around. For the last three weeks, he’d been in the studio you worked at almost every day. And almost every day, he’d pass you at your post in reception. The first few days, he’d give a small smile and hello. Then he’d asked for your name and you his, even though you knew who he was, not just from his time in a wildly successful and famous boyband, but from the fact you worked reception at a recording studio and part of your job was to know the people who recorded there. Next, he began stopping by for a chat either on his way in or out. Then he always stopped for a chat on his way in and out. Your knees grew weaker every day as your interactions with him progressed.
A short Satinalia story, inspired by and dedicated to @cute-ellyna!
I told you that the whole idea for this story popped into my head… and that wasn’t quite true. I had Ellyna’s part figured out right away, but it wasn’t till your announcement that Cullen’s side instantly came to mind. I hope you enjoy it!
It was a fun idea of Cullen’s; a little bit silly but very fun. They had decided that instead of buying gifts for each other, they would exchange handmade presents for Satinalia.
In the weeks leading up to the holiday, Ellyna would occasionally catch Cullen frantically stuffing something out of sight as she came to his office, and she certainly did her own scrambling when she heard the familiar heavy tread of his boots coming up the stairs. Each time they would have a silly grin on their faces, curiosity and shared amusement.
And now it was the evening of Satinalia, time to exchange the results of their efforts.
The festive air of the holiday had descended on Skyhold, and into her chambers. Some days ago, Ellyna and Cullen had created a mass of pillows and blankets before the fireplace, sharing warmed spiced apple cider or hot chocolate and cookies while relaxing before bed. It had become a haven, a cozy spot for the two of them, and so that is where they sat now.
Ellyna held the wrapped package behind her back, squirming as Cullen settled down across from her. An excited and mischievous grin was permanently plastered over her lips. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.
The firelight played lovingly over Cullen, sparkling in his eyes, and she waited only until he was down before bouncing and thrusting the package at him. “Here! Happy Satinalia!”
Cullen chuckled and slowly started to unwrap it, his eyes bouncing between her animated face and his present. Finally, a bright red color was revealed, and he lifted a soft material away. It spilled down, showing itself fully, and Ellyna had to hold in her laughter at Cullen’s puzzled, priceless, expression. “It’s a scarf,” she snorted through her giggles.
It certainly didn’t look it. Cullen held the narrow end, the bottom edge twice the size of the top. And throughout all of it there were at least a dozen holes from where she had dropped stitches. “Leliana was teaching me, but I think it is safe to say I am not very good at it. You don’t have to wear it in public,” She laughed, amused at her crafting un-talents.
Cullen’s chuckle rumbled through the room and he wrapped the red monstrosity around his neck. “I think it is perfect.” He leaned in for a chaste kiss and spoke against her lips, “I will wear it with pride,” he pulled back and bobbed his head in an amusedly resigned gesture, “and probably to quite a lot of teasing.”
They both laughed again, Ellyna scooting a little closer so their knees touched. She had chosen the color well, if nothing else, she saw with pleasure. The red was a lovely foil to his golden hair, and when it was wrapped around his neck like that, no one could see the holes or the mess she had made with the size.
“Now it is your turn,” Cullen said, and she was surprised to see that he looked nervous. Cullen carefully presented her with a small box, a big green bow tying the lid in place. Ellyna peeked up at him once before pulling away the ribbon and lifting the top. Inside was a roughly but intricately carved twist of wood, details engraved into the entwined loops, a long leather necklace attached to the work.
“In Ferelden, they are called love knots,” Ellyna raised her eyes to Cullen, saw him pull out a knot in the mirror image to the one in her hands from where it had been hidden beneath his tunic. “One half for you, and one half for me. They say that when a couple wears them, that they will be always intertwined, inseparable from each other.”
“Cullen,” she breathed, deeply touched. She immediately lifted the necklace from the box, slipping it over her head. She studied it; it wasn’t perfectly symmetrical nor entirely smooth, but she could see all the hard work he had put into it. All the love he had poured into the details.
Uncharacteristically, Cullen flushed, bright pink rising to his cheeks. He self-consciously rubbed the back of his neck, and then shyly said, “It’s also… when someone carves a pair of love knots and gives one to the person they love…” Cullen’s eyes locked with hers, the hesitancy and embarrassment fading away to be replaced by a steady warmth, “It is a marriage proposal.”
Ellyna sucked in a breath, blinked. A bubbling excitement grew, her lips slowly widening. “A proposal,” she repeated.
Cullen’s smile was growing with hers. “Yes.”
“With me.” She was almost squealing.
Cullen laughed and said, “Yes.”
Ellyna burst up, throwing her arms around her neck and shouted, “Yes!” Cullen toppled over backwards into the nest of pillows, his arms coming around her waist to hold her close as she peppered kisses along his cheeks, forehead, nose, lips, anywhere she could touch. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Cullen laughed, his grin so broad and open, and he captured her lips in a deep, satisfying, loving kiss. When they came up for air, Ellyna crowed, “Best Satinalia ever!” And then her fiancé pulled her down for another very thorough kiss.
Joe MacMillan (Halt and Catch Fire)/ Lee Pace Fan Fiction
18+, nsfw, all that jazz (it’s smut, people)
It was late. The office was empty. I thought I was the only one still there. Which was why I was barefoot, with my nylons off, and my hair out of it’s normal french braid. I was on my way back from the bathroom when I heard a door slam. Then the heavy tread of boots on the polished floor. I looked back over my shoulder and saw that it was him. Joe MacMillan. Not that he had any idea who I was, but I sure knew who he was. He was kind of hard to miss. Not too many guys are almost 6 ½ feet tall, but it wasn’t just his size, he was one of those guys who just took over the room when he was in it. He looked a little less polished than he normally did too. His jacket and tie were off, the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up and the top couple of buttons were undone. His brown hair was messed up, like he had been running his hands through it, and he looked tired. He even had the stubble of a beard on his usually clean shaven face. He had a sheaf of papers in his hand that he was frowning down at as he walked toward me, his heavy eyebrows drawn together with a deep wrinkle forming between them.
I was frozen watching him, afraid to move and have him notice me staring at him. So, I was still standing there, like an idiot, when he walked right into me. I knew he was tall, but I had never had the opportunity to be so close to him before, so I was shocked at the sheer scale of him. His rib cage hit me square in the upper back and his shoulder bumped me in the back of the head. He looked up with an expression of annoyance on his face and I was sure he was about to tell me off. His chest was rock hard and I could feel the bulge of his muscles against my back. I couldn’t move away from him if I had wanted to, so I just stood there pressed against him. All I could do was turn my head to the side to look at up at him over my shoulder. I could feel the muscles in his shoulder flex slightly as my head leaned back against him. His eyes met mine and his jaw tensed. His eyes were a gorgeous hazel color, green along the outside with a brown ring around his pupils. He glared down at me, unblinking.
I couldn’t look away from him and was half expecting him to shove me out of his way at any moment. Or ask me what the hell I was doing. Instead he tossed the sheaf of papers onto a nearby desk with one hand and reached the other hand into the hair on the back of my head and grabbed a fist full of my hair. The ache of anticipation was already starting to build deep inside me. I took a deep breath, and caught the faint scent of the expensive cologne that he had probably applied that morning. He tipped my head further back, pulling it harder against his shoulder as he continued to glare down at me. He wasn’t hurting me, but I wasn’t going anywhere unless I wanted to rip out a handful of my own hair. I was starting to breathe faster and I’m not sure what look I had on my face, but he leaned down and dropped an open mouthed kiss on my mouth. He tasted like coffee and oddly, chocolate. He was tugging a little harder on my hair now and his lips were hard against mine. His breathing had become a little uneven as he kissed me. Suddenly he pulled back, eyes hooded, with his jaw slightly jutting out.
He studied me for a moment, then his mouth was back against mine, even harder and more demanding this time. I couldn’t help myself and let out a moan as I felt his tongue against mine. I could feel his lips curl up into a smirk as he explored every inch of my mouth. He still had my head pinned against his shoulder by my hair in his fist, but now his other hand was sliding along my hip, pulling the rest of my body back, tight against his. His belt buckle was digging into my back about half way up and I could feel his heat and hardness pressing against my lower back. A matching wetness was growing between my legs. His breath was hot in my mouth as our tongues twisted together. We were both breathing hard now and he was pulling my arm up, over my head, and on to his unoccupied shoulder. I ran my hand up the back of his neck and buried it in the hair on the back of his head as he ran his hand down my arm and across my collar bone. Apparently satisfied that I wasn’t going to try to escape, he untangled his fist from my hair and ran that hand down the outside of my other arm to my hip.
He slid slowly down against my back, spreading his long legs apart so he wasn’t towering over me quite as much. He broke the kiss and without moving his huge hand off my collarbone, reached up with his thumb and pressed gently against my chin to turn my head to the front. He took a ragged breath next to my ear and then trailed a series of hot open mouthed kisses down the side of my neck to my shoulder. His other hand was holding my hip firmly against him as he started grinding his hips slightly against me. By this point, I was grasping his forearm with my unoccupied hand and breathing heavily as I started moving own hips in rhythm with his, pushing against him as he pushed against me. His was already as hard as steel and I could feel the fabric of his pants straining as he rocked against me, each time a little harder than the last.
He was almost gasping for breath as his mouth got harder and hotter against my neck. The stubble on his face was chafing my skin every so slightly, and I could feel a hint of teeth in the last kiss. His hand fumbled at the top buttons of my shirt, eager to expose more skin. I couldn’t hold back another moan as he slid his hand down my leg and started yanking up the knee length skirt I was wearing. He had enough of my shirt undone to expose my entire shoulder and he was moving along it now, leaving a hot trail behind his mouth. He finally found the bottom of my skirt and his hand slid up underneath it to caress the skin on the inside of my thigh. I still had one hand on the back of his head, feeling the muscles in his neck flexing as he kissed back up my shoulder to my neck. My other hand was still on his arm, urging his hand to move higher up my thigh. There was an undeniable fire between my legs now.
The hand on my thigh paused for a moment, as the hand on my collarbone moved back down to the buttons on my shirt. He undid a couple more buttons to allow him to slip a hand down the front of my shirt and slide it over my breast. I gasped as he brushed my already hardened nipple with his thumb over the outside of my bra. He cupped my breast in his large hand and slid a couple of long fingers over the top of my bra and down inside drawing yet another moan from me as he gently pinched at my nipple. There was no doubt about the teeth grazing my neck now in addition to his tongue. He was still rolling his hips against me and if possible he had gotten even harder, when suddenly the hand on my thigh was in motion again. He slid it all the way up and in one motion hooked the top of my panties and gave them a yank downward, so that they slid down my legs to land on the floor. I stepped out of them with one foot and then his fingers were sliding down between my legs and plunging inside of me.
At that point, I gave up any pretense of being quiet and started moaning out loud. His fingers felt amazing as they slid in and out of me. I started bucking my hips harder, wanting as much contact with his hand as possible. He slid his other hand out of my shirt and slid it down to my other hip, holding me even tighter to his body as he continued to grind against my back. His kisses and now bites to my neck were becoming erratic as he focused his attention on the hand between my legs. Everytime he slid his fingers out of me, he ran them up and over my clit, making me cry out. Then he would slide them back down inside of me, reaching deep inside me. I was so close already and he had barely started touching me. Suddenly he gave a groan, the first noise I had heard from him, and slid his hand out from under my skirt.
Before I could protest, he was pulling me around to face him. He looked down at me for a moment, then lifted me up like I weighed nothing at all. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders as he kissed me full on the mouth again, his tongue insistent. I didn’t even realize we were moving until my back hit the wall. He hoisted me up even further, pressing me against the wall with his body. He reached up and with both hands began fumbling with the rest of the buttons on my shirt. When he couldn’t get the last couple undone quickly enough, he simply gave my shirt a yank and the rest of the buttons went flying. I had managed to unbutton his shirt while he was working on mine. I ran my hands over his chest, wondering at the ropey, raised, flesh my fingertips encountered. Then he was kissing down the side of my neck and I forgot to wonder about it anymore.
His lips traveled down my neck and over my collarbone. By this point, I was almost incoherent, reduced to nothing but whimpers as his mouth moved even lower, towards the top of my bra. I had both my hands buried in his hair and was rolling my hips against him as he slid down a bit lower to get access to what he wanted. One hand was sliding underneath me and starting to fumble with his belt, as his other hand slid the bra strap down my shoulder. He unceremoniously yanked the front of my bra down, exposing me to him, as he moved his mouth ever lower. I don’t think I had ever been so turned on in my life. I was practically dripping and frantically rubbing myself against his stomach as he finally ran his tongue over my nipple. It was like being on fire and having gasoline dumped on the blaze. As he teased me with his tongue, sucking gently at first, but then harder and harder on my nipple, I heard the rasp of his zipper and the soft sound of fabric puddling on the floor.
He released my nipple and slid his mouth slowly back up to my mouth and kissed me urgently again. Then he let my body slide down the front of his until I could feel the tip of him pressed against me. He stopped, holding me at that point, and pulled his head back to look me in the eyes again. Whatever he saw in my eyes must have been what he wanted to see, because he started slowly rocking his hips, sliding bit by tiny bit into me. I was moaning and gasping for breath and he was breathing so hard it was almost a gasp each time he slid a little further into me. He never broke eye contact with me until he was fully seated inside of me. With a groan, he pulled almost all the way out, braced his arms on the wall on either side of me, and then slammed his full length back into me. We both cried out and he dropped his head onto my shoulder.
He slammed into me again, but I could feel that he was holding back. I wrapped my legs more firmly around his waist and rolled my hips against him as he thrust into me again and again. He was gasping and moaning against my shoulder and I didn’t think he would last much longer. Suddenly he slowed, visibly gaining control of himself, and put a hand on each of my hips. He pulled my hips toward him, changing the angle and hitting something deep inside me. I cried out and thrashed my hips, but he wouldn’t let go. He raised his head from my shoulder, his hair damp and curling with sweat, and looked in my eyes again. I cried out again as he hit that spot inside me with another thrust of his hips. His lips found mine again as he set a steady pace. My legs were starting to shake as the pressure built inside of me. He could feel it too and his rhythm started to falter a bit as I shook and moaned. He didn’t let up though, not until he could feel my muscles start to clench around him. Then he took a deep breath and slammed into me as hard as he could as I screamed. As the waves of pleasure rushed over me, he gave one final thrust and moan and I felt the hot gush of his release inside of me.
He let go of my hips and pulled me slightly off the wall so he could wrap his arms around me. He dropped his head to my shoulder again and I rested my head against his damp hair. We were both breathing hard and it took a few moments to catch our breath as we held each other. As our heartbeats returned to normal, he lifted his head off my shoulder and kissed me gently. He had softened inside of me and he shifted gently to slide out, without letting go of me. He looked at me, almost tenderly, and said in a low voice, “I’m Joe.” I smiled shyly back at him and said, “I’m Lily. Nice to meet you.”
The echoes used to be distracting. Obi-Wan remembered the days when he could cross the entire third level corridor just listening to the ring of his own footfalls, and even then it would take a near-collision at the end of it to recall him to his present mission. Not today. He hardly noticed his own booted tread, mingled as it was with a few others as he shouldered his way past the Council Chamber, and entered the conference room.
He was awaited. He’d been told that a solitary messenger had asked for him on a mission of utmost secrecy. What he wasn’t prepared for was the sight of a young woman, clad head to toe in black, her hair a fiery cascade that still made his throat clench for reasons he dare not name. He cleared his throat, partially to clear the uncomfortable reminder, and partially to announce his presence.
The owner of the voice that had been plaguing his thoughts for the last two weeks was standing in front of him. If Thranduil wasn’t mistaken, Bard was nervous. Given the way he’d reacted the last time they’d spoken, that wasn’t terribly surprising. What was surprising was that Bard was still willing to talk to him at all. Squashing the little voice of doubt that questioned his motives, Thranduil gestured to the bench, and then felt it give a little under the extra weight.