Written for a tumblr askbox prompt: "Some smut with this sentence "you think you're so tough,baby put your hands up"'. I made it Modern AU setting since "baby" doesn't really sound medieval / fantasy like to me. Set before DA: Inquisition but after DA:II.

Cullen wasn't quite sure what madness had possessed him to leave his quiet apartment for the bar down the street, but here he was, sitting by himself and knocking back whiskey like the Blight was in town. He shook his head; at least the thudding of the bass distracted him from the pulsing, aching need for lyrium in his veins. Not that drinking himself blind was a good way combat withdrawal. But some nights there was really no other cure. Besides, if he drank enough, the dreams wouldn't come.

Old military habit found him positioned with his back to the wall and a view of all exits easily at hand. Which, he would admit if pressed, afforded him a nice view of the dance floor as well. Cullen didn't dance, not really, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy watching the other patrons do so; he like people watching in general, to begin with, and it certainly helped that there were many beautiful women currently in the bar as well.

Not that he was particularly lucky on that front either, lately.

A flurry of activity at the other end of the counter caught his eye. He turned just in time to see a slight, red-headed woman slam a man's head into the bar.

"I said NO."

Cullen stood, ready to intervene—old Templar habit die hard, after all. Damsels in distress and all that.

"You fuckin' bitch! You broke my nose!" The man reared up, blood spurting between his fingers, the other hand balled into a first.

Cullen positioned himself behind the woman, arms folded over his chest, and glared. "I believe the lady would like you to leave."

The man's eyes narrowed at Cullen's words, but instead of pressing the issue, he spit a mouthful of blood on the floor and stalked away. The woman spun around to face him, and he could see a smart retort die on her tongue as her eyes swept up his form, finally meeting his eyes. Maker's breath but she was beautiful. Delicate features framed large green eyes and full lips. Her red hair tumbled down her back to her waist and he wondered if it was as soft as it looked. Cullen licked his lips, perhaps it was the whiskey, but he was enjoying the way she was staring at him.

"You seemed to have the situation sorted, but I do hate to see anyone bother a lady," he continued, voice rich with a hint of a Fereldan accent. He held out a hand to her, "Cullen Rutherford, at your service."

That finally snapped her out of her daze.

With an appreciative smile, she shook his hand. "Elena, and thank you."

He raised his eyebrow at her introduction, though his grin remained.

"Elena is it? Pleasure to meet you. Well, if you're in no more need of aid…" he trailed off, making to go back to his seat.

"Wait," she called, tugging her lower lip with her teeth. "Can I at least buy you a drink?"

"I won't say no to that." he agreed eyes sweeping over her form again before settling onto the stool next to hers.

Perhaps his luck was going to turn around, he thought as she ordered them another round. Once they were served, she clinked their glasses together.

"To chivalry," Elena cheered.

"To maidens who rescue themselves," he answered back, a smile curving over his lips.

She laughed and knocked her drink back. Cullen took a sip of his double whiskey neat, eyes wandering down the long curve of her neck, past the deep V of her dress. She caught his eye and winked.

"See something you like?"

"Perhaps," he said with a slow smile, cheeks flushing just a bit from liquor and being caught. Leaning forward, he rested one big hand on her thigh, thumb resting just below the hem of her dress. "What brings you to Kirkwall?"

"Oh, you know…" she trailed off, waiving her hand vaguely. "Just wanted to see the world."

He nodded, fully aware that she was avoiding the question. Well, let her have her secrets. He didn't need to know her life story to—well, he wasn't sure what the night would bring, but a man could hope. Cullen could feel his body reacting to her—one good thing about being off lyrium was that he was much more responsive. It didn't help that she kept licking her lips and biting them. Maker, what he'd like to see her do with that mouth.

"So," she continued, a hand resting on his arm. "What do you do?"

He took a drink of his whiskey. That was a more complicated question that she knew. What did he do? Struggle to piece the city back together after a terrorist attack and internal coup from his former boss? Well, not anymore. He had quit the Templar Order—the city's elite paramilitary security force. Now he was just, well…now he was just looking for a new job. But he supposed you can take the man out of the order, but not the order out of the man.

"I'm a Templar," he finally answered.

She cocked an eyebrow, eyes wandering over the muscles of his chest and arms. "I see."

"Where are you staying?" He asked, thumb tracing circles against the smooth skin of her leg, trying to shift the conversation away from himself and his failings.

Even over the din of the club, he heard her breath hitch at the contact. Briefly his eyes were drawn down, to where her breasts rose and fell with each heavy breath. Glancing back up, he saw her eyes traveling over his body; Cullen was glad he'd worn one of his old work shirts—the white button up was a tad on the tight side, and judging by Elena's appreciative stare, it had been the right decision.

"Nowhere yet," she murmured, letting her legs fall open just a tad more under his touch.

"Are you planning on sleeping in the Chantry?"

The chantry left its doors open for anyone to sleep on the cushioned pews, and the sisters provided a hot breakfast in the morning. Most travelers looking to keep their costs down at least considered it, and a lot of the city's homeless could be found there as well.

"You disapprove, ser?" She teased, running one fingertip down the line of his jaw to flick the cleft in his chin.

He chuckled and captured her errant hand in his larger one. Before he could think better of it, he brought her fingers to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles, all the while keeping his eyes locked on hers. Even in the dark he could see the flush run over her cheeks.

"It doesn't seem like the nicest of places for a lady to sleep," he said, voice low and husky.

"Oh? Where else would you recommend?" She inquired, leaning close to him, and curling her fingers around his own.

He could feel the desire rolling off of her, sweet and warm, just how she smelled. Bright eyes traveled down the panes of his body, and a small noise fell from her lips at as her eyes landed on thighs and groin. Cullen quirked his lips into a wry half-smile.

"My bed."

"Oh?" her head jerked up to catch his gaze again, a satisfied smile spreading across her lips. "I could be persuaded."

He grinned, feeling a hot pulse of excitement surge through his body. Before he could suggest they finish their drink and move to his apartment, she tugged on his hand.

"I love this song. Come dance with me," she motioned towards the dance floor.

His reply that he didn't dance died in his throat as she pulled him out of his seat, her hips swaying in an exaggerated manner as she lead him into the crush of people. The song was an electric mix, a hard bass thumped against his head but the refrain sounded familiar. You think you're so tough? Baby put your hands up. Elena swayed around him, the curves of her body accentuated by glancing strobe lights. He settled his hands on her hips, enjoying the way thin fabric of her dress bunched under his fingers. She winked, before turning around, pressing her backside into his groin. Cullen groaned, and pulled her in closer to him. Maker she felt good as sin against him—it had been too long since he'd held a woman. She pressed into him harder; Cullen could feel himself stiffening now, aching for her. He swayed his hips with her, hands wandering up her torso, brushing just below her breasts.

"You think you're so tough," he whispered into her ear, along with the song. "Baby put your hands up."

Her entire body shivered against him at his words. Cullen pressed his lips to her neck, just over her pulse. The feeling of her pert ass pressed up against his stiffen cock make heat coil in his belly. She slowly moved her arms above their heads, wrists rolling sensuously through the air, before she settled them around his neck. Cullen ghosted his hand up her side to cup her chin. He angled her face up towards him, lips capturing hers. She moaned into his mouth, hips rolling wickedly against him. His other hand slid lower, brushing against her sex.

Her hips jerked forward, and she spun around to face him, hands sliding down to fist the fabric of his shirt. She looked up at him, eyes hot with desire; he shivered, skin suddenly too hot under her gaze.

Don't fuck this up, Rutherford, he ordered.

Cullen smiled and let his hand come to rest on the curve of her bottom as he nudged his knee between her legs, pulling her against him. She came willingly, a soft moan falling from her lips. Her hand slid down the panes of his chest to palm his cock, eyes widening when she felt the size of him. He moaned, head pitching forward to nuzzle against the crook of her neck.

"Take me home, Templar," she pleaded into his ear, voice dripping with want.

Cullen didn't have to be told twice.

Cullen couldn't believe this was happening—that this gorgeous woman had agreed to go home with him. They had no more than entered the hallway before his desire and need over took him; he savaged her lips, hungry and desperate, tongue sliding against her own. A wanton moan tore through her throat as he pressed her up against the door of his apartment. One big hand squeezed at her breast as his other hand blindly fumbled with unlocking the door behind them. Elena wrapped her arms around his neck and jumped, locking her legs around his hips; he gave a muffled grunt and curled into her. He could feel the heat between her legs rub against his throbbing cock. Fuck fuck fuck. It felt so good to have a woman spread her legs for him.

The wood gave behind her, and Cullen stumbled into the entrance way, kicking the door closed behind them. Elena shivered and raked her fingers through his hair, eliciting a growl as Cullen slammed their bodies up against the nearby wall. His hands squeezed her breasts, up and together, before he dipped his head, lips burning a trail of fire down her heated flesh. Her breasts were warm and heavy in his hands as he rolled and kneaded them. Tugging the front of her shirt and bra down, he suck one of her pert, pink nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling over the bud. He rutted into her, rolling his hips up and down against her throbbing center, cock throbbing with need. Heat blossomed outwards, spreading through his body like a raging fire. He wanted to fuck her right there, against the wall.

"Fuck me," she moaned, jerking as his tongue laved over her sweet flesh.

He laughed and drove his hips upward into her once more, "oh, I plan to."

"Bed?" she panted, rolling back against his bucking.

"Right," he murmured, hands sliding under her ass for stability as he carried her through the living room into his bedroom.

They collapsed onto his bed in a tangle of limbs and lips, and oh the feeling of her soft, warm body under him was delicious. Cullen sat up, heated gaze boring into her. Lights from the city below illuminated the room just enough to see the contours of her face and body, the generous curve of her breasts and hips, the fullness of her lips, the burning want of her gaze—it set fire to his body, and aching need building near unbearably in his groin. He yanked on the back of her calves, pulling her closer to him along the bed so that he settled between her knees. Maintaining eye contact, he slid his hands down the creamy length of her thighs, the drag of his skin on hers maddeningly slow as he inched towards the hem of her dress. The way she was looking at him—sweet Andraste, it made his heart hammer in his chest and his cock ache.

The hem of her dress rucked up around her hips against his hands. He wanted to touch her sex, sweet Maker did he ever want to. But Cullen wanted to drag this out, build and stoke the fire burning through them higher and higher until they were both consumed. Dragging his hands back down her legs, he chuckled at her pout and frustrated bucking of her hips.

"Maker, you're beautiful," he whispered, more to himself than to her, hardly darning to believe this woman was in his bed, legs spread and face flushed with desire.

Beneath him, Elena cupped her breasts through her dress, rolling and kneading them the way he had been moments ago in the hallway. Hips bucking against his thighs. Fire burned deep in his belly, he could see that she wanted him desperately, and she wanted him now.

"Cullen," she mewled. "Fuck me. Please."

With a crooked grin fixed on his lips, Cullen reached back and pulled his shirt over his head. A hiss escaped his mouth as she reached forward, fingertips running over the lines of his muscles almost on their on volition. She traced a scar just above his navel, lower and lower until her fingers brushed the waistline of his trousers. Lower still until she was cupping his cock.

"Like what you feel?" he asked.

She squeezed him hard through his trousers. "Yes. I wan't you, this, inside of me."

In a flash, he leaned down again, caging her face between his strong hands. His mouth locked to hers, coaxing and pressing her lips apart. Scraping his teeth against her bottom lip, he sucked it into his mouth. She tasted like sunshine and fire. He needed to be inside of her, to feel her walls squeeze around him, hot and wet.

Cullen ran his hands down her body, thumbs pausing to rub her nipples until she keened, back arching into him. Down lower, to the narrow curve of her waist, to the flair of her hips. He pushed her dress up, revealing black lace and creamy skin. She sat up, wiggling and helping pull her dress over her head. A flurry of movement and the rest of their clothing joined it on the floor.

They knelt before each other, her legs parted just enough that he could—oh Maker. Her eyes wandered down his body, breath hitching in her throat as she took in the sight of his hard cock, standing thick and ready for her. She smiled shyly, looking up at him from below her lashes—she suddenly seemed more vulnerable, younger even.

"How do you want me, Templar?" she whispered, voice thick with want.

Heat shot through him at her words, straight to his groin. Slowly, he crawled towards her, keeping his gaze locked on hers; he could see her pulse beating wildly against her throat, and her eyes widened as if he were a lion a she his prey. As he reached her, she lowed herself to the mattress. He wanted to wretch her legs apart and bury himself up to the hilt.

"Spread you legs for me," he commanded.

"Like this?" She asked, stroking her thighs as she opened them for him, fingers trailing, up, up, up towards her slick folds.

"Just like that, baby," he growled, hand dipping between her legs to find her wet and wanting. "Put your hands up."

Elena bit her lips, stifling a moan as she gripped his headboard, knuckles white in anticipation. Cullen cupped her sex, running his fingers against her opening, teasing her. Slickness coated his fingers. Slowly, Cullen pressed one digit into her, mesmerized as she bucked off the mattress as so simple a feeling. He could hear his own breath, harsh and heavy as he contemplated what to do with her.

"Do you like that? Mmm, so sweet and tight," he panted, as he began a steady rhythm of thrusts into her. "Do you want another finger? Or should I use my mouth?"

She let out a high pitched keen as his thumb brushed her clit. "Mouth, please. Cullen. I want your mouth on me."

Her sweet begging was music to his ears. The way she rolled her hips against his hand, desperate for more—more touch, more friction, more of him. Grinning, he ran his hands up over her thighs to grip her hips, grounding them firmly against the mattress. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he lowered his head slowly to her. He watched her face contort from aching anticipation to sweet, blissful pleasure as he licked broad, flat strokes against the full length of her slit. The image of her, eyes screwed shut tight, hands fisting in the sheets, back arched as he buried his face between her legs was one that would stay with him, was one that sent fire burning down his spine and made his cock twitch in anticipation and longing. He rubbed his nose against her clit as he pressed his tongue deep into her tight, wet heat. She was moaning now, sweet melodies of desire as she rolled her hips against his face, hands tangling in his hair. Cullen rutted against the bed, trying to relieve some of the aching need tasting her brought him. Curling two fingers up and in to her, he sucked her pink bud into his mouth, rolling it around his tongue. Her legs began to tremble around his head, her body taut and ready for release. He pressed a third finger into her, stroking that sweet spot as her lavished her clit with oral ministrations.

"Yes, yes, just like that, oh, Cullen, ooh, oh, OH," she came with a scream, and a sweet flood rushed against his face.

Once her legs had relaxed enough that he could lift his head, he did so, cocky smirk fixed to his face. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and chin as he regarded her; he was rather surprised, but Maker that was sexy. A flush burned high on her cheeks, her lips slightly parted.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was going to do…that,'' she whispered, bring her hands to cover her face.

"That was beautiful," he rumbled, crawling further up her body, and pulling her hands away so that he could look into her eyes. "And I want to make you do it again."

Cullen couldn't help but grin at the flush his words brought. He lowed himself over her, settling between her legs, his cock pressed hot against her stomach. He nuzzled her neck, fingers stroking her jaw and hair. Her arms lock around his shoulders, hips bucking against him, begging for more.

"Please," she moaned, rubbing the slick heat of her desire along his length.

Cullen groaned, almost loosing himself right there as heat shot through his body. She reached down, small hands grasping his cock. Cullen deepened their kiss, spilling his moans deep past hers lips the same way he ached to spill his seed. His manhood twitched, hot and heavy, at her touch. Slowly, she pumped him his length, her fingers wonderful against him, sending fire spiraling out along his thighs and straight to his balls.

"Sweet Maker," he moaned again.

Elena guided the head of his cock against her entrance, and rubbed him against her. Cullen pressed his face to the crook of her neck. She was hot and soaking. He rolled his hips, and she spread open for him. Stars erupted across his vision as he slowly sank into her.

"So tight," he murmured, kissing the column of her neck. "So hot."

One hand slid down, cupping her hip, anchoring her to the bed. Cullen dragged himself almost completely out of her, before thrusting back in; she moaned, and opened her legs wider, begging him with her body for more.

"Again," she pleaded.

Flexing his hips, he slid his cock almost out of her tight heat, and snapping back in, faster than before. Her back arched under him, pressing her pert nipples against his chest. He set a furious pace, hips slamming into her again and again.

Velvet. She felt like velvet against him, around him. She was moaning now, writhing underneath him. Her hands roamed over his body, scraped down his back, tangled in his hair. His name fell from her lips with each hard snap of their bodies joining.

He could feel his release coming from the ache in his balls and the sweet feeling of her sex pulsing around him. Capturing her lips with his own, Cullen coaxed her mouth open, brushed his tongue along her own.

"Touch yourself, baby," he whispered against her kiss swollen lips. "Come for me."

Her hand snaked between their bodies, seeking her pink bud. She stroked herself with firm, fast strokes, meeting the pace of his cock pounding into her. Cullen kissed her again, hard and deep, swallowing her cries as her legs began to shake around him, her back arching off the bed.

"That's it," he whispered, trailing kisses against her neck, biting and licking as he went. "Just like that. Maker you're so beautiful, so—"

His words were drowned out in the sound of Elena shattering beneath him, unraveling against him, around him. Her wet heat throbbing so tight around his cock. Nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to draw blood, eyes screwed shut, mouth wide opened. His name on her lips as she screamed and moaned and bucked against him, desperate for more, to prolong her pleasure. His cock twitched, aching inside of her, ready for his own release. Cullen thrust hard, hilting himself in her again and again, fire burning in the pit of his belly, higher and hotter until—

He growled, teeth sinking into the tender skin of her shoulder as he spent himself within her.

Hips shuddering to a stop, he slowly pulled out of her, and rolled onto his back. Cullen's breath came out in hard, short pants as he struggled to ground himself back to earth. He could feel her curling against his side, arm sliding over his chest. He looked down at her. Grinning, he brushed a kiss over her forehead and stroked her hair with his free hand.

"That was…" He trailed off, unsure of what to say; thank you seemed silly, wow seemed juvenile.

"Wonderful," she purred, hooking one leg over his hips and pressing kisses to his chest and shoulder.

"Stay with me?" He murmured into her hair.

"Of course, Cullen."

In the darkness, Cullen traced the lines of her body, kissed the dimples and freckles of her skin. Elena outlined his muscles with her fingertips, tongue, lips, until they melded against each other again. Joining in a tangle of limbs and bodies that was sweet and slow, until she was crying his name again and he, hands curled into fists in the sheets, found another release. They finally sank into sleep, still tangled in each other.

Cullen awoke to a bright sun burning through his eyelids, head aching from want of lyrium and too much whiskey. He rolled over, burying his face under the pillows, arms flung wide across the bed. He had been having the most amazing dream—a beautiful, mysterious woman had agreed to share his bed, and wait.

Cullen sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There was no sign of Elena in his bed and the rest of the apartment sounded silent. He padded into the kitchen to find the coffee machine just finishing a fresh pot. He shook his head, trying to remember if had set the alarm on the blighted thing last night, or if someone had started a pot and then disappeared. Pouring himself a cup, he sat at his table confused and not a little hurt.

He set his cup down, gaze casting aimlessly around his empty kitchen. Suddenly, he noticed a note tucked under the coffee maker.

Dear Cullen,

Thank you for the wonderful evening, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and I hope you did as well. Believe me when I say this is not what I wished you to awaken too, but it is for the best. I cannot stay in Kirkwall, and spending any more time with you would only weak my resolve to leave. I will hold dear the memories you gave me, and I hope you don't mind that I took a lucky souvenir for myself.

Perhaps we will meet again under more forgiving circumstances. I can only hope.

Yours,

Elena T.

I do have another part written (set three years later), but I wasn't sure if this was something people would want to read more of. If there's interest, I might make it into a multi-chaptered fic. Just let me know :D