➽─❥ summary/prompt: Medieval AU. The king needs a queen, and you’re the lucky bride that the king has chosen.
➽─❥ warnings: 18+ MDNI, arranged marriage, loss of virginity, p in v sex, bedding ceremony, public sex, lack of sex ed
➽─❥ author’s note: WELCOME KING CHARLES EDWARD REID IV OF SUSSEX- this has been discussed extensively with @ovaryacted and @velvetmel0n so thank them for helping- If you’d like to participate in my february fic fest- click here for more!
You knew what was expected of you. You were prepared from birth to know your duties but- you didn’t actually know what to expect. ‘Give the king an heir,’ you were told- ‘have children,’ and it sounded so simple until you realized you didn’t know how that came to be. How exactly were you supposed to give the king an heir? You asked your mother after the king chose you to be his bride- worried about being a good wife and queen but she simply smiled.
“He’ll know what to do,” she said- hand on your cheek with a soft smile that you now understood as pity- an apology even. Pushing an unruly strand of hair from your face the same strand you’ve had all your life- a tear sliding down her cheek when she did so because suddenly you’re five years old again and tucking it behind the tiara the king gifted you as a wedding gift- “you’ll be fine my dove” when she sensed your unease.
Charles Reid, the king, was known as a harsh man- strong kingdom that he took over when his father died, commanded armies and defeated his enemies with ease. His power was unmatched yet he spent so long in wars that he had no time to secure his lineage- he needed a queen. Someone young, from a good noble family who could give him an heir- sons to carry on his name and keep his kingdom strong when his time comes. Every family in the realm paraded their daughters in front of him- the most lavish gowns and intricate hairstyles while they giggled and fluttered about on the castle grounds to try and entice him.
But the king chose you.
The quiet girl who he found in his study late at night after he invited your family, your father was an old friend of the king’s, to stay for a few days. The one who buried her face in a book of his past conquests- who spent her time studying the king so you could understand him better. Who knew the history of his kingdom and answered without hesitation when he questioned the line of ladies waiting for his hand- who met his eyes unlike the others.
That is what the king wanted to be as his queen- someone without fear. However all you felt was fear and anxiety now- watching yourself in the mirror adorned in his colors, heavy gown now being taken off of you by your ladies in waiting to allow for the bedding ceremony. You had no idea what to expect- desperately tried to ask your mother because you heard whispering from your ladies about pain but she merely explained how it was a woman’s duty. To grin and bear it and if you were lucky- you would be with an heir only after one attempt. “Once you do your duty- the visits will become few and far between, the king will entertain himself with something else,” she explained while brushing your hair like she did when you were a girl.
But no one mentioned that you’d be watched- the bishop blessing the king’s bed then turning to you both for a prayer before leading the rest of the king’s court and counsel behind the screen for privacy. If you weren’t so nervous you’d laugh- privacy? The pathetic screen was near see through- you could count the men behind that screen and name them all exactly but you didn’t have time to worry about it as the king spoke your name- so softly that you didn’t hear it at first.
“Wine?” He asks, taking notice of the way your fingers worry themselves to the nub- the way your bottom lip is gnawed between your teeth and Charlie nearly regrets this. You’re scared- possibly of him but most certainly scared about what’s to come because he knows you’re unfamiliar. Haven’t been prepared to understand what takes place in this bed but there’s something about your innocence that makes him burn with desire- how your soft eyes watch him in fear while he steps around you and smiles softly when he hands you the glass of wine. “It will help with the nerves,” his voice is disarming- breaking down your walls so easily that you forget that this is the king- your king.
“T-thank you my lord-” but he stops you before you can take a sip.
“No need for that,” hazel eyes meeting yours, titling his head to make sure you truly understood him. “You’re my wife, my queen- I am not your king here- I am your husband.” You don’t understand the feeling that burns in your gut- the wine making your body feel on fire and yet you’ve had only a sip but you nod. Eyes trailing down to his lips where the red wine has left them tinted a soft blush and all you wish to do is see if his lips taste as sweet as the wine did.
Charlie notices your eyes, how they’ve locked onto his lips and now seem to follow the path of his muscular neck- thin shift covering his chest but you can see the soft tufts of grey hair peeking out from the fabric. You miss the way he smirks- large hand cupping your cheek to tilt your face up so he can place the most chastest of kisses against your lips. Your first kiss. Taking the breath from your body and making you gasp against Charlie’s mouth when you feel his lips more forcefully pressed to yours. Oh. The glass of wine teetering in your hand- a few drops spilling onto the crisp white sheets underneath that you pull away to apologize but- he doesn’t care. Charlie takes the glass from your hand- full of wine but tosses it towards the screen where you’re both being watched still before he wraps an arm around your waist to pull your body flush against his.
Charlie has two options- he can make this good for you, he can make sure this is dragged out and slow so you can feel pleasure as well but still under the eyes of the men in his court or- he can make this fast, he can try and hurry so once he finishes they will leave and he can make it up to you later while taking his time with only you and him in his chambers.
“I’m sorry,” Charlie mumbles against your lips- tongue sliding against yours as he presses you back against the mattress before climbing over your body to wrap your soft thighs around his waist. “This may hurt,” he tries to keep his voice low- no one to hear to softness of his voice or the gentle tone he’s using but he wants you to know he can’t help it. “But I promise it will be over soon,” he’ll make it up to you. Charlie promises that he’ll make this up to you while he feels the heaviness of his cock freed from his undergarments and the tip run against your untouched cunt.
Despite the fear, the nerves and uncertainty- you trust Charlie. You nod- allowing him to push your gown over your thighs to allow himself more room before you feel the blunt pressure of something at your core. It was different. You searched Charlie’s eyes for an answer but when you feel the sting and pressure of his cock inching into your stretched walls and you cry out with a gasp. You can barely even speak- your breath hitches and you shudder a whimper out while you close your eyes and listen to your husband tell you to breathe.
“Shh- breathe darling, almost-” through gritted teeth because you were tight. Hugging his cock and gripping him with your nails digging into his back while you feel tears slipping from the corners of your eyes and down your cheeks. Your mother did nothing to prepare you for the pain- sending you in knowing this might happen. Will this always happen? Every time your husband climbs into your bed will this pain continue? You can’t hear much other than your heartbeat, the high pitched whine of your rind blocking out the pain, and Charlie’s soft words telling you he’s almost done.
Despite only kissing for a few moments- Charlie felt how fucking wet you were. Tight pussy sucking his cock in and he won’t last much longer if this is how perfect you feel. He shields your body with his- not wanting his wife to be seen in such an intimate position because this should be reserved for only his eyes. Something inside you stirs- right after the pain there’s something you can’t describe but it burns in your tummy and tells you to kiss Charlie. Uncertainty in your mind but you listen- tilting your face just a bit to press your soft lips against his and only after a moment does your husband stop his movements inside you- groaning and sounding in pain but never letting your lips part.
You were his. Soft, beautiful queen now his and before you can speak he pulls away from you- hand dragging down your gown to preserve your modesty before forcing the men of his court out of the room with a deep ‘leave’ as he bundles up the sheets underneath you in his arms to throw at the physician who demanded ‘proof of purity.’ You didn’t feel different- there was an ache between your thighs, pink tinted gown underneath you that made your cheeks heat up but Charlie paid no mind. He simply called for the bath to be filled- coming to kneel in front of you to clean between your thighs with a cloth before tossing your gown and the stained rags to the side.
He’ll make it up to you- touching you with care and a gentleness no one would ever see from the king. No one but you. His queen.
i want lyle wainfleet so bad. i need him in every position physically possible, i need him to degrade me and i need my limbs to shake after from exhaustion so he can mock me for that again
warnings: nsfw, jealousy, hurt/comfort, size difference, p in v sex, doggy-style, rough (?) sex
notes: i really though that i was finished with this, but y'all got me with the asks about jealous and protective tsu'tey 😭 (also this gif makes me fucking FERALLLL)
read it on ao3
part one | part two | part three (nsfw) | part 4 (nsfw)
masterlist
Tsu’tey doesn’t think he’s ever been so smug in his whole life.
He survived the battle with the Sky People, he has healed from his wounds and come back even stronger, and he has been successful in his mating advances with his chosen mate.
The fact that his chosen mate was one of the little sky demons that he hates so much, was a surprise to the whole village (he had surprised himself too, truthfully) but everything is different with you. You are not destructive, you are not harmful – you study the flora and fauna of his planet with the reverence of a wide-eyed child, and he finds it terribly endearing. You are so small, and his planet can be such a harsh place for one as soft as a human. It’s a constant source of frustration and concern, despite his best efforts to handle and minimise possible risks.
“You are certain?” He demands of the Sky Person in front of him.
The man is one of the so-called scientists that live in the pathetic excuse for housing that the alien demons had built in the forest after the rest of the Sky People had been forced off the planet. There’s not many of them; the ones who stayed were approved by the few loyal demons, and they are largely respectful of the native populations as they try to integrate as much as they are allowed. That does not mean that Tsu’tey trusts them, and it certainly doesn’t mean that he likes them.
“Yes,” The little man in front of him says, visibly nervous. He swallows thickly, his heavy breaths fogging up his odd little mask. “Yes, we tested all the fruit you brought, and they all came up safe for human consumption. A human digestive system wouldn’t be able to break down something like meat from Pandoran animals, but the fruits you brought should be fine. Chemically, it’s quite similar to fruits we have back on Earth-”
Tsu’tey just grunts. He does not care about Earth's fruits. All he wants to know is whether he can feed you some of the fruits that he has foraged, and now that he has gotten his answer he is not inclined to stand around and listen to the little man bumble along any longer.
Without another word he turns and strides away, reaching his pa’li and pulling himself astride her with ease before urging her forward into the forest. At a swift pace, he reaches the village in no time and from there he moves quickly to find you.
Unsurprisingly, he finds you beneath one of the pxiut trees. You have your notebook open in front of you as you lay on your belly making your silly little notes, totally absorbed in your work. As he approaches, he takes the opportunity to look you over.
You appear content, head bowed over your work as you write. The bright sunshine filters in through the trees overhead, sending dappled patterns over your exposed skin. Seeing your strange human form dressed in the traditional clothes of the Na’vi always sets Tsu’tey alight, and his tail swishes appreciatively as he admires you.
“Hello, demon,” He murmurs when he reaches you, lowering himself to his knees out of pure habit. It has become second-nature to lower himself to your level when he’s around you – he enjoys the closeness of it.
You hum. Though you don’t lift your eyes from your work, a smile is beginning to curve your lips. “Is that any way to greet your mate?”
Tsu’tey’s lips quirk in response, and he leans in so his nose is nuzzling into your hair. You lean into him in a move that’s mostly automatic, and he feels a flare of smug pleasure at the ease with which you melt against his side.
“My little demon,” He corrects himself with a sardonic little grin, enjoying the way you roll your eyes fondly. “I have brought you food. Will you eat?”
Your eyes dart to his immediately, visibly uncertain. He already knows what you’re thinking, and he tries not to wince.
“It is safe,” He says quickly. “I asked one of the tawtute. They did tests.”
Your expression changes then, your grin growing sharper. “Aw, look at you taking care of me, huh?”
He can tell by your tone of voice that you’re teasing him, but that doesn’t stop the swell of pride in his chest. Yes, he is taking care of you. It’s always gratifying when his efforts are noticed, and he tries not to look too smug as he reaches out to touch you.
You are laying on your belly with your notebook in front of you, so his hand comes to rest on the back of one of your thighs. You are so small beneath him, so soft and squishy compared to the lean hardness of most Na’vi bodies. He can’t resist squeezing just slightly, just to watch the squidge of your thighs poke out between his spread fingers.
You roll your eyes at him – you know exactly what he’s doing, after all. He has not been very successful at keeping his fascination with your little pliable body a secret, and why should he? You are his mate, and you belong to him as surely as he belongs to you. Getting to touch you like this is a privilege belonging only to him, and he wishes to get as much out of it as he can.
“I always take care of you.” He says, and your smile softens.
“Yeah, big guy, you do.” You say, and the fondness in your voice is so obvious that it makes Tsu’tey’s hardened heart tremble a little in his chest.
His hand slides up your plush thighs and comes to a rest over the swell of your backside, relishing the heat of your skin even through the tewng covering you. You’re even softer here, nothing but squidge, and he allows himself a moment to indulge in squeezing you here too as you laugh.
“Alright, pervert,” You snicker, closing your notebook and pushing yourself up. “You can’t just start feeling me up – we’re in public.”
Tsu’tey’s hand falls away as you move to stand, and he has to fight the urge to pout hard. “The People know that we are mated in the eyes of Eywa.”
“That doesn’t mean that it’s okay to traumatise them all like this.” You snort. “I don’t think anyone wants to see you groping me in broad daylight.”
Many of the People have a sort of morbid curiosity about how mating with a tawtute works, so Tsu’tey isn’t entirely certain that you’re correct in that assumption. There are many who would be only too pleased to watch. But he doesn’t argue; you are beginning to push yourself to your feet, so he stands too.
“What is pervert?” He asks, looking down at you as you stretch your arms overhead and yawn.
Truthfully he gets distracted for a moment, admiring your soft belly and exposed skin in Na’vi clothes – if he could burn all your human coverings without you getting angry at him, he certainly would. He wants to see you dressed in the clothes of his People all the time.
You laugh as if he had said something very funny. “A pervert is what you are.”
“Is it a bad thing?” He wonders, reaching out so that his hand rests on the back of your neck across your shoulders.
Your eyes flutter closed as he kneads lightly at the base of your neck. “No,” You murmur softly. “Not when it’s you.”
He relaxes, nodding decisively before reaching for your small hand. “Come. You will eat and watch me train.”
It’s become almost like a routine for him to drag you with him to practice fighting or sparring. While you don’t come with him every day, he has managed to bring you often enough that the sight of you trailing behind him towards the training ground is a familiar one for the young warriors in training.
As he leads you towards the training grounds, he sees the few young warriors gathered around the archery practice range turn to watch his approach. Their eyes flicker towards you – though they never say anything about it, he knows that their curiosity is burning at the sight of you at Tsu’tey’s hip. The apprehension and caution about the Sky People is still very much embedded in their hearts and minds, and yet you are probably the least intimidating thing they’ve ever seen in their lives.
Tsu’tey imagines that his own interest and desire for you only fuels their curiosity further. He had gained somewhat of a reputation for himself before he had met you; he is the strongest warrior in the clan, he had been trained from a very young age for leadership, and he is a prominent and well-respected figure within the village. He was much desired as a mate by many women in the clan.
So when he chose you, the small and soft demon that is entirely unsuited to their planet, it was a source of surprise to many. Yet he is lucky – his people are supportive, even when they do not understand his choice of mate. Even if some of the women remain slightly disgruntled with him.
“You will sit over here,” He pushes you gently towards a clearing, out of the way of the other Na’vi that tower over you, to a spot where you will be safe. “You can see well, from here.”
It’s important that you have a good view, after all. He likes it when you watch him – it’s satisfying to give you a display of his physical strength and his skills, to remind you that he is a strong mate for you.
You just sit down where he’s directed you, and smile eagerly at him. He knows that you enjoy watching him too, and his tail swishes in anticipation. If you are pleased with what you see, it can only mean good things in store for him later.
“What are you up to today, then?” You ask, lounging back in the soft mossy ground against the stump of a tree.
“Spear training, and then hand to hand combat.” He says, reaching into the small bag around his waist. He pulls out the soft wrapped leaf package that he had prepared earlier and hands it to you. “Fruit. Eat.”
You take the wrapped fruit from him and peer at it with curiosity, poking at it with your small fingers. You seem pleased, and take a breath before lifting your mask so you can pop the fruit in your mouth before replacing it.
“It’s good,” You say, smiling, before tilting your head up at him with a faux-innocent expression. “So, do I get to see you all oiled up and wrestling some other super muscly man?”
That makes him chuckle, and he reaches out to stroke a single finger over the top of your head. “Would you like to see that?”
“Oh yeah,” You hum, and your grin behind your mask is unmistakably suggestive. “Definitely.”
His own grin grows sharp, and he bends on one knee so that he can be at eye-level with you. “I can oil myself up and show you wrestling later, after eclipse.”
That makes you laugh, tilting your head back with delight. “Oh, that’s so corny.”
He has no idea what that means, corny, but you look happy so it must be a good thing. He leans down and kisses the top of your head before straightening up. From behind, he can hear some of the younger warriors in training begin to call his name.
He gives you one last lingering look before turning and making his way towards the others.
Training takes the better half of the afternoon.
He demonstrates spear throwing techniques, he corrects postures and methods, he shouts criticisms and praises by turn. Every so often he glances towards you, mostly out of habit – you have pulled out your little book at some point, and are making notes again. Every single time, without fail, you look up as though you feel his eyes on you. And every time, you beam at him and his heart stumbles a little in his chest. Burying his reactions as best he can in front of his fellow warriors, the most Tsu’tey allows himself is the flick of a single ear.
When they finally do get to hand to hand training, he sees you visibly perk up and his ego inflates significantly. It is so very gratifying to be able to train and show off in front of you, especially when he successfully overcomes his opponents.
He can feel your watchful eyes on him all the time, pushing him harder and harder as he wrestles with warrior after warrior. The young ones in training watch on too, eager to learn, but the only gaze he truly cares about is yours.
Eventually, he takes a break from tumbling around the square that had been cleared off specifically for training and steps to the side so that he can observe some of the young ones in training practice their form. While he attempts to focus on calling out constructive criticism, he can’t stop his eyes from darting towards you occasionally.
Though your notebook is splayed out front of you, you are making no effort at all to hide the fact that you’re watching him. His chest is heaving and a thin layer of sweat coats his body, and he can feel the weight of your stare dropping slowly over the length of him. It makes him feel hot and itchy, and he has to fight to keep himself from marching right over to you and doing something very stupid indeed.
He is so distracted by your stare that he almost doesn’t notice when one of the other warriors sidles up to him. It is Takuk, and he is watching him with an amused sort of expression.
“Brother,” He greets him, offering the customary gesture of respect. “You are distracted today.”
His statement is nothing but the truth, but Tsu’tey bristles anyway. Takuk had been a hunter trainee not too long ago himself, but has developed into a man in the last year; he has claimed an ikran, he wears a battle band around his waist, but he has not yet taken a mate. Tsu’tey dislikes the way he is looking at you, considering you are already claimed.
“I am not distracted.” Tsu’tey lies through his teeth. His tone is sharp enough that he hopes it will dissuade Takuk from this line of conversation.
Takuk just hums, clearly unconvinced. He has grown irritatingly confident since his iknimaya. He looks over to where you’re sitting; you’ve lowered your head once more to scribble in your book, and Takuk takes the opportunity to squint at you.
“What is it like, being with one of them?” He asks, casting a slant-eyed glance back at Tsu’tey. “Is she not too… small?”
Tsu’tey’s tail lashes around his ankles, though he keeps his expression carefully contained. He is proud to be mated to you, but he does not like questions like this. He does not like to think that Takuk is imagining you like that.
“She is small,” He acknowledges, his voice clipped. “But not too small.”
It is enough to answer his question without giving him details, but Takuk grins as though what he has said is much more revealing than it truly is. When he looks back over in your direction again, Tsu’tey tenses.
Takuk notices, and sighs. “Brother, I am only asking. We are curious about your mate. You are so protective of her.”
Tsu’tey rolls his shoulders, considering. This is not untrue. The curiosity of his people is blatant, and mostly harmless; perhaps he has been too protective, but he has always been a private man.
“It works.” He says at last. It feels a little as though the words are being pulled from him by force. “She is small, and strange, but it works.”
Takuk’s ears twitch forwards in amusement, but he wisely decides not to make a smart comment.
“Even though she cannot make tsaheylu?” He wonders, low and quiet.
Ah. So that is the source of all their curiosity. Tsu’tey supposes he cannot blame them for that. It is a most unusual relationship he has with you, after all. Tsaheylu is the building block of all life on Pandora, and it is how every living creature interacts with the world around them. To have taken a mate that is unable to make this bond would be almost unthinkable to many Na’vi. Tsu’tey supposes he cannot blame them for that morbid curiosity – it would have been unthinkable for him once, too.
“Even though she cannot make tsaheylu.” Tsu’tey confirms quietly. “She sees me anyway.”
Takuk is thoughtfully silent at that, which Tsu’tey is mercifully grateful for. That was a little too vulnerable for his tastes, and he ends up clearing his throat and straightening his shoulders in an attempt to regain some of his authority.
“Back to training.” He says firmly, reaching out to push at Takuk’s head. “No more making eyes at my mate.”
Takuk just laughs, his ears twitching with good humour. “It is not me you need to tell, brother,” He says, before tilting his head pointedly in your direction. “It is the trainees that are so curious about her.”
Tsu’tey follows his gaze. Sure enough, you are no longer alone in your spot at the side of the training grounds. Several of the hunter trainees are crouched near you, watching you with big curious eyes as you chat to one of the young Na’vi that has been bold enough to creep forward. It is At’u, one of the foremost young men in training.
Tsu’tey’s ears flatten when he sees the way At’u’s tail is coiling. It is the universal signal of interest among their kind, and the audacity of the younglings infuriate him.
Without waiting another moment, Tsu’tey strides your way. He can hear Takuk starting to laugh from behind him, but he ignores him; he is precision-focused on you and the jumped up little shits around you.
When At’u reaches out to touch the hair on your head, Tsu’tey’s vision goes black around the edges. Anger bubbles up in his chest; curiosity is one thing, but having the insolence to touch you right in front of Tsu’tey’s eyes is another thing.
When Tsu’tey reaches you, you look up at him with a smile. He doesn’t return it; he’s too busy levelling a dark glare At’u’s way, his ears flat and tail held low. The youngling’s tail coils low in response, but he does not move away from you.
Tsu’tey hisses at him, baring his sharp teeth as he rounds on the rest of the trainees. They scatter almost instantly, scrambling to flee back to the training area. At’u flees too, flinching hard before following after his friends.
“Tsu’tey!” You hiss at him, visibly horrified. “That was so rude! They were only curious-”
He’s still glaring at the backs of the young trainees as he crouches down in front of you, but after a moment he turns to look at you. Your brows are scrunched, your eyes flared a little in outrage as you scowl at him. Oh, you look angry with him. It’s more adorable than you probably mean it to be.
“They do not know their place.” He mutters, scooching a little closer to you.
“They’re children!” You protest, rolling your eyes.
“They are training to be hunters and warriors.” Tsu’tey grumbles. As cute as you are when you’re angry, he doesn’t like being on the receiving end of it. “They know what they’re doing. They will be eligible to pick a mate after iknimaya.”
That makes you pause, and your eyes flicker carefully over his face.
“Are you…” You begin slowly. “Are you jealous? They’re going to pick Na’vi mates. Besides, I already have a mate.”
Warm satisfaction pools in his chest, and he scooches closer to you yet again. Something deep within him eases now that you’re within arms reach.
“Did you not see the way they were twitching their ears at you?” He murmurs, brow furrowing. You hesitate, and his tail lashes in agitation. “I knew it! You do not even see how they act-”
“Oh, hush,” You sigh, reaching out to pet the side of his face. “You’re being silly. Why would I want anyone else when I have a big handsome beefcake like you, huh?”
Tsu’tey has no idea what beefcake is, but you sound pleased when you say it so he imagines it is a good thing.
Your thumb strokes over his cheek, and then you frown and reach out to wipe under his nose. “You’re bleeding.”
He had received an elbow to the face at some point during hand to hand combat, but it feels only mildly tender now. Still though, when you begin smoothing away the blood with your thumb he leans into your hands. It feels good to be cared for.
“Does it hurt?” You wonder, peering closer as you try to assess the damage.
“No,” Tsu’tey snorts, a little offended. How weak do you think he is? But then you start to pull away, taking your little hands away from his face, and he’s quick to add, “A little. Will you care for me later?”
That makes you laugh, and his ears wiggle smugly when you lean forward to bump your forehead against his.
“Yes,” You whisper, grinning up at him. “I’ll take real good care of you.”
His tail thumps off the ground, his mouth beginning to curl in an eager smile. Your eyes are lingering around his sweat-slick chest and your thumb strokes over his bloodied nose, gentle over his bruised skin. He fights the urge to lean in further into your grasp, though it’s difficult.
“You watched me train?”
You huff a soft laugh. “Of course. Couldn’t tear my eyes away. You looked good, big guy.”
Tsu’tey swears he feels his whole heart thump heavily in his chest. There is a bone-deep satisfaction that settles over him at the confirmation that you see him as someone worthy, a good mate. It soothes the edges of his jagged pride and makes him feel whole.
“I am happy to have pleased you,” He murmurs sincerely, tucking his ears low as he meets your eyes. Your eyes soften, and you brush the last remnants of blood from his nose before taking your hand back. “Would you like to watch further?”
You hum in thought for a moment, before shrugging. “I think I’ll head back to the kelku. I wanted to cross-check some notes I took today with my other research.”
Tsu’tey has never been able to make much sense of your science talk, but he inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Then I will meet you back at home, ma’yawntutsyìp.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Tsu’tey’s feels as though he’s crawling out of his skin. He runs through the rest of his duties on autopilot, offering criticism and compliments by turns to the young warriors and hunters throughout the day, but his mind is preoccupied with thoughts of you the whole time.
It’s a struggle to stay focused. He keeps thinking of your eyes tracing over his chest and stomach, of your soft hands on his face, of your coy promise to take care of him later. It feels almost physically painful to force himself to finish out training with the others, but he pushes himself anyway.
It’s nearing evening when he finally begins to finish up, delivering his last few instructions to the young hunters as they begin to ready themselves to return to the village. He’s antsy, watching impatiently as the young ones push and laugh at each other.
When Takuk approaches him again, he has to fight not to roll his eyes – he has picked up too many of your little human mannerisms already.
“Your aim has improved.” Tsu’tey grunts, preoccupied with slinging his bow back over his shoulder.
Takuk perks up, visibly pleased with the compliment. He inclines his head in thanks, before leaning his weight casually back on one leg as he watches Tsu’tey pack up. He’s no doubt noticing that he’s moving with an unusual sense of urgency.
“Your mate is waiting for you, hm?” He asks, his mouth twitching.
Tsu’tey’s tail lashes in warning. He doesn’t like Takuk’s teasing tone, but he can’t help the anticipation that’s building in his stomach at the thought of getting back to you after your teasing throughout the day.
“Yes,” Tsu’tey grunts. “I will bring her fruit.”
Takuk nods, clearly approving, before looking to his feet. He appears to be thinking, and Tsu’tey waits as patiently as he can for him to speak again.
“I am thinking of taking a mate soon,” The young warrior says at last, still keeping his gaze low. “Do.. Do you think that Kaey’ra would have me?”
Tsu’tey pauses to give his question some thought. “Yes. I think she would. It would be a good match.”
Takuk’s shoulders loosen, and his ears rotate forward in satisfaction. It is a confidence booster for Tsu’tey too – it is nice to have his opinion so valued by one of his past students, now a peer. He is happy for his friend, and Tsu’tey claps him on the shoulder.
“I must plan a courting display,” Takuk murmurs, his brow lowering thoughtfully. “I will-”
He cuts himself off, staring somewhere behind Tsu’tey’s shoulder. Frowning, Tsu’tey turns to follow his gaze only to be met with the sight of one of the young warriors approaching him with his tail tucked low between his legs.
“Ma’Tsu’tey,” He greets, his ears flattened anxiously against his head. “I am sorry-”
“What.” Tsu’tey interrupts, his eyes narrowing. The sight of the youngling all twisted and anxious leaves a bad feeling settling into his stomach. “What is it?”
The youngling looks as though he would rather be anywhere else other than right there. “It’s just.. Your mate is-”
Tsu’tey’s stomach plummets to his feet, and he takes a step forward. His teeth bare without conscious thought. “Where is she?”
The young hunter flinches, but to his credit he doesn’t step back. “She is with tsahìk-”
It feels as though Tsu’tey’s brain has been filled with static panic. He’s hardly aware of turning away from the warriors and racing away, his feet pounding hard against the ground as he shoulders his way past the young trainees that are still lingering around the training area.
The only reason for you to be with Mo’at is that you are injured, and the thought fills Tsu’tey with a bone-deep, nauseating fear. He was only apart from you for a few hours at most – how could you have gotten hurt in such a short space of time? He thinks of your fragile bones, your thin skin, your diminutive stature; he knows that the answer is all too easily.
He can’t help himself from conjuring up worst-case scenarios – he imagines you broken and bleeding, unconscious, crying from pain, calling for him when he’s too far away to hear you. He feels sick as he reaches the village, making a beeline for the tsahìk’s hut.
“Move,” He snarls at someone who walks across his path. He’s blind with panic, hardly even sees who he’s snarling at. They jump out of his way as he storms past, practically diving his way towards the tsahìk’s home.
Usually, Tsu’tey prides himself on his grace and agility. He has always been the best warrior in the clan, and one of the most decorated hunters – his training has left him swift and dextrous. And yet now he finds himself stumbling, acting like a fear-stricken fool as he ducks his way into the hut.
Mo’at doesn’t even glance up at his unceremonious entrance, though you do. You’re perched carefully in the corner, with the tsahìk hunched over you as she carefully wraps your forearm with plant-fibre bandages. The whole space smells like the medicinal herbs used for healing – he guesses that she’s spread healing paste over you.
Something loosens in his chest at the sight of you unbloodied and conscious, though he doesn’t relax just yet.
“Oh, shit.” You sigh when you see him, before offering him a weak little smile.
“What has happened?” He demands, ducking his way under the dried herbs hanging from the woven ceiling as he makes his way towards you.
Mo’at still doesn’t look away from her work. “Where are your manners, Tsu’tey?”
Her tone is sharp enough to chasten him, but he does not relent completely. He comes to a stop over Mo’at’s shoulder and attempts to lean over her in an attempt to see what she’s doing, his tail whipping anxiously around his feet.
When he spots your arm, he makes a wounded sort of noise. Your wrist is all swollen, and if he looks closely he can see the beginning of discolouration around the joint as it begins to bruise. He ends up dropping to his knees beside you. In his haste, he almost pushes Mo’at aside, oblivious to the sharp look she sends his way.
“What happened, ma’muntxate?” He demands, reaching out to take your wrist in his hand so he can get a better look.
Mo’at knocks his hand away with a resounding slap before hissing a sharp warning at him. “Do not touch while I am bandaging!”
“Is it broken?” He asks, whirling to face the tsahìk. His tail curls around your thigh, squeezing tight as he seeks reassurance in the form of your soft, warm flesh.
“It’s fine-” You start to say, but Tsu’tey isn’t listening to your attempts at placating him.
“It is a sprain.” Mo’at says. Her tone implies that she is sick of dealing with him already, but he pays her no mind.
“How did this happen?” He asks yet again, shuffling forward on his knees so that the bulk of his body is curling around you. There is no danger here in Mo’at’s tent, but it makes him feel better when he hunches protectively around you.
“It’s no big deal,” You say quickly, clearly attempting damage control. “I just- I fell, and I landed a little awkwardly-”
“Fell where?”
That makes you pause, and Tsu’tey’s expression flattens as he waits for your answer.
“Um.. The ladder,” You murmur, glancing down at your lap. “The ladder that leads to the kelku. I slipped climbing up it, and fell. But it wasn’t from very high.”
He hadn’t thought it possible, but he feels his stomach sink even further at that. Fuck, it was his fault. The vine ladder he had woven for you was only meant to be a temporary measure to help you climb up into your shared kelku in the high trees until he could get around to building a more permanent solution. He had considered the possibility of you falling, but never seriously – not even children would fall so easily.
He must look stricken somehow, because your own face begins to contort in response.
“It was my fault,” You say hurriedly. “I wasn’t paying proper attention, and I slipped. I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
He lets out a soft, low sound, before shaking his head. His jaw is clenched tight. What a stupid mistake for him to make. His tiny soft mate, so frail and weak. He should have known that the ladder was too risky for you to be climbing up and down. Only a sprain; he is so lucky that it was only a sprain. What would he have done if it was something worse?
Mo’at clicks her tongue, then sits back and surveys her handiwork. It’s as neat and meticulous as ever, the bandages wrapped tight around your injured wrist.
“There,” Mo’at says simply. “Rest it. It will be just fine in a few days.”
Tsu’tey hardly hears her at all. He’s too busy staring at the bandages, pale green against your bruised skin. This should never have happened. He’s meant to protect you, to keep you safe. That’s what he had promised you. What kind of mate is he, if he can’t even provide a safe way for you to enter the home he had offered you?
He’s pulled out of his cycle of self-flagellation by Mo’at swatting ungently at his head.
“Take your mate and leave,” She says, shooting him an unimpressed look. “No sulking. Just watch after her.”
“Yes, tsahìk.” He says quietly, inclining his head towards her out of respect.
When he turns back to you, you’re already watching him with big, guilty eyes. That only makes him feel worse – why should you feel guilty, when it is him that has failed you?
“Come, ma’yawne,” He murmurs, reaching out to hold you. “I will take you home.”
You open your mouth, no doubt to be stubborn and protest that you can walk yourself, or some other such nonsense, but he doesn’t wait to give you the chance. He just tucks his arms under your back and legs and hauls you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he stands.
With one last murmured thanks to Mo’at, he carries you right out of the hut and back into the evening light.
Tsu’tey is willing to admit that over the next few days, he is a little more… vigilant than usual.
“Tsu’tey, seriously,” You complain. “It’s a sprained wrist, it’s nothing!”
He doesn’t justify that with a response. Your injury is not nothing. It is a representation of his failure as a mate, and it hurts his pride to look at the bandages for too long. All he can do is commit himself to ensuring that something like this never happens again.
He brings you food and water in bed, he offers you gifts of books and the silly little glowing pads he manages to bully out of the tawtute in the human science encampment, and he makes sure the kelku is more cushioned and comfortable than ever before. His aim is to make sure that you have everything you need right there in your home, so that you won’t have to leave again – at least, not until he has finished safe-guarding the sloping rope bridge he is attempting to build for you.
Even now, your legs dangle from the edge of the kelku’s entrance as you watch him work on the wide branch below. You’re secure where you are, your hands holding tight to the edge of the tree branch that your legs hang from, but Tsu’tey keeps stealing looks up at you every couple of moments to ensure that you’re still there.
Around the twentieth time he glances up at you, you roll your eyes and meet his gaze with a challenging stare.
“Why don’t we go for a walk?” You ask, swinging your legs in the air. “It’s a nice day, and I haven’t been out in ages.”
Tsu’tey grunts, but doesn’t answer properly. His tail curls as he weaves another section of his makeshift rope bridge; it will be narrow and a little precarious, but he is certain it will be a better solution than the ladder you had fallen from.
From above, you click your tongue in dissatisfaction. “I know what you’re doing.”
He slants a glance up at you, lips pursed. Once again, he says nothing. Knowing you, you’re not finished speaking yet anyway.
Sure enough, his silence only seems to irritate you.
“I’m not staying up here forever, you know.” You say insistently, and Tsu’tey tenses when you lean forward to get a better look at him as he works on the branch below you. “I know you’re angry at me for getting hurt, but it’s only a sprained wrist and it’s not like-”
“I am not angry.” Tsu’tey interrupts, though he can’t manage to meet your eyes. His ears are pinned to the sides of his head; is that really what you think?
You let out a clearly frustrated noise. “You’ve hardly spoken to me for days. All you do is work on this stupid bridge-”
He finally looks up at that, lip curling in annoyance as he squints up to you. The rope bridge is admittedly rudimentary, but it’s for you. It’s true that he hasn’t been as demonstrative with his affections as usual for the past couple of days, but you’ve been injured. He couldn’t even think of touching you when you’re hurt – the remnants of bruising around your wrist makes him feel that sense of failure every time he catches sight of them.
When he fails to verbally respond yet again, you scowl at him. “Are you just not going to talk to me?”
At that, he sighs. “What do you want me to say?”
You set your jaw and glare for a second, before promptly shoving yourself to your feet. Tsu’tey tenses once more as you stand, so nerve-wrackingly close to the edge of the kelku, before you turn on your heel and march back inside.
Once you’re gone, Tsu’tey allows his shoulders to drop. Damn. He probably could have handled that better – communication has never been his strong suit. He’s never really felt the compulsion to explain himself or his thinking to anyone before, and now he finds himself at a loss for how to approach his feelings with you.
You think that he’s angry with you, which is absolutely untrue. Are you angry with him? Fuck.
Sighing, he finishes one last knot in the rope he was working on before dropping it. He needs to sort this out.
It only takes one jump for him to catch the edge of the kelku with his hands, and then he hauls himself up with ease. Part of the reason that he had been so startled when he realised you had been injured climbing the tree was because it was something that should have been so easy, something that just came naturally to the Omaticaya. It hadn’t occurred to him that it might have been possible for you to fall so easily.
When he steps inside the kelku, he spots your little form curled up on the woven rug atop the cushy leaves he had padded the wooden floor with. You’re holding one of the glowing pad things that the tawtute are always tapping away on, although you don’t appear to be reading anything off it – it seems more like you’re simply staring fixedly at it in an effort to avoid meeting his stare.
He moves slowly towards you, tail held low in as non-threatening a manner as he can manage. You don’t look up, though he can see the way your eyes slide subtly toward him. When he kneels down by your side, you’re forced to raise your gaze towards him.
“I do not mean to upset you, Säsrätx,” He murmurs, his voice low as he bends his head towards you. He does not want you to be angry with him – the thought curdles in his stomach.
You take a slow inhale through your nose, the breath fogging lightly against the clear material of your breathing mask before dissipating.
“I’m not made of glass, big guy,” You mumble, glancing back down at your hands. “You can’t treat me like a kid just because I got a minor injury.”
Tsu’tey makes a soft grumbling noise in the back of his throat, but doesn’t argue. You’ve never been annoyed at him like this, and he’s surprised by how much he doesn’t like it. He’s never been one to put too much stock in the opinion of others, but this is different. You are his mate, and he doesn’t want to make anything worse.
He adjusts his stance so that he’s crouched at your side, his much bigger body curling over yours as he looms over you. You’re just so small, it makes his palms itch. He hasn’t touched you properly in days, so afraid that he’ll make your injuries worse, but now he’s finding it difficult to keep his hands to himself.
You must be thinking the same thing, because your gaze drifts from his face down over his shoulders and chest, lingering around his woven necklaces and his battle waistband. Tsu’tey preens a little under your eyes, his chest puffing out a little.
“You should not have been hurt like this,” He murmurs, reaching out for your hand. “The kelku should have been safe for you. This was my fault.”
You just sigh, and shake your head. “Don’t be stupid. It was an accident. These things happen.”
Tsu’tey grunts unhappily. He’s too busy peering carefully at your wrist; your wrist and hand look so fragile in his much larger palm, and his lips press together tight as he strokes a careful thumb over the lingering discolouration on your skin. The bruises are almost gone, but he can still see the faint traces remaining.
“I have waited a long time to take a mate and have a family of my own,” He murmurs without looking up at your face. He tilts his head, a wry sort of smirk beginning to grow on his face. “I did not expect it would be with a tawtute, but I would not change things. I have lost too much over the years – I could not take it if something happened to you.”
Your expression wobbles, and then you toss your little piece of technology aside and push yourself up to your knees.
“Tsu’tey,” You whisper, eyes turning soft. “It was only a sprained wrist.”
His tail lashes, but he ducks his head down towards you so that you can cup his face in your little palms. Some of the restlessness in his chest begins to settle now that he has your hands holding his cheeks.
“I do not want you to think less of me as a mate.” He says quietly, reaching up to lay his palm flat over one of your hands on his cheek. “I should have ensured you had a safe way of entering our kelku-”
“Less of you?” You interrupt, choking out a laugh. “Are you kidding? I thought that you would think I was a total skxawng for falling like that. I had literally been promising you earlier that day that I would look after you, and then I ended up hurt like an idiot.”
Tsu’tey just makes a soft, rumbly noise in his chest in an effort to soothe you. To his relief it seems to work, and you relax into his chest.
“You can take care of me when you are better.” He says, his lips pulling up into a little smirk. It is something he looks forward to.
You hum, tilting your head back so you can look him in the eye with a coy grin. “I’m better now, big guy.”
Tsu’tey starts to snort, to pull back with an eyeroll, but to his surprise you continue grasping at his hand. When he blinks at you, he finds you staring up at him with a determined sort of look about you.
“I mean it,” You whisper, eyes all liquid and pleading. “My arm is fine, Mo’at said so. You haven’t touched me in days.”
Tsu’tey pauses at that. He looks at you properly; behind your breathing mask, your eyelashes are longer and darker than usual, and your lips are glossier. He recognises the traces of what you call makeup, and his ears twitch backwards in surprise. He knows that you wear this when you’re trying to catch his attention, and a little jolt of realisation rockets through him as he looks at you.
“Oh,” He breathes, reaching out to capture your jaw in one hand. “I see. My little mate feels neglected, is that it?”
Your cheeks grow hot in his hand, your eyes flickering away in an attempt to avoid eye contact. Despite your plea for him to touch you, now you appear flustered.
“Yes.” You whine, tilting your head into his hand. Despite your embarrassment, you manage to appear semi-confident when you finally raise your chin to look at him. “I want you to touch me.”
The edge of your breathing mask digs into his palm, and he starts to grin as he winds his long fingers into your hair. Oh, that soothes his wounded pride. Despite his mistake with the ladder, you still want him.
He ducks his head and presses a kiss to your neck, humming in satisfaction when you tilt your head back immediately to allow him access to your throat. Tsu’tey lets out a soft breath, and reaches for your waist so he can pull you into his lap. You go eagerly, clambering onto his thighs with a grin. You’re just so pliable, so trusting and needy. As soon as you’re settled in his lap, you start to grind yourself down against the growing stiffness beneath his tewng.
He lets out a quiet, surprised little huff. You really do want him to touch you, and your eagerness rushes straight to his head. He really has been neglecting you if you’re reacting like this just from a simple little neck kiss.
“I will make you feel good, ma’yawntutsyìp.” He promises – he is determined to make up for the last few days of distance between you, and he wants so desperately to taste you.
But when he begins to kiss his way down your chest, your belly, towards your thighs, your fingers weave into the roots of his hair and you tug lightly to stop him.
“As nice as your mouth would be,” You breathe, your mouth curving into a grin. “I said I’d make you feel good, didn’t I?”
His ears twitch, and he tilts his head as he eyes you carefully. You look earnest, but he’s not sure if he understands. You do not want him to use his mouth on you? Why not?
When he doesn’t make any immediate moves, you appear to take initiative yourself. You reach out to take his hand in your much smaller one, and pull it down beneath the hem of the little tewng that had been specially made for you. When his fingers make contact with the wet heat of your cunt, he goes stock still.
“You…” He starts, his brow furrowing as his fingers slide along the slickness between your legs.
He dips one finger inside, awed by how easily it slips in. It seems like you’re already all stretched out, far wetter than natural – he recognises the texture of the tawtute-made liquid you used on occasion to make the size of him easier to take. Lube, you call it. He slips another finger in, and you moan softly at the slide of it.
“You are ready.” Tsu’tey rumbles in surprise, his fingers twitching inside you.
“I’ve been ready for days,” You complain, dropping your head against his shoulder as you move your hips, attempting to get his fingers working deeper. “Waiting for you to get over your stupid worry and just fuck me.”
That just about sends him over the edge entirely. You had prepared yourself for him just to save time with stretching? The thought of you walking around the kelku for days, all sloppy and dripping down your legs as you wait for him to emerge from his brooding mood and please you sends his thoughts scattering. Fuck. How could he have been so preoccupied with his stupid rope bridge when you were sitting waiting for him to pay attention to you?
“I will fuck you,” He breathes, nuzzling at your jaw eagerly. The human term is harsh on his tongue, but he enjoys the coarseness of it.
“Don’t be gentle.” You blurt, still writhing against the bulge beneath his tewng and sending zings of pleasure shooting up his spine. “Fuck me like you mean it. I won’t break.”
Tsu’tey lets out a soft hiss. Well. What kind of a man would he be if he did not obey his little mate’s orders?
Though you have been making demands, it still seems to surprise you when he launches into movement. He grips your hips and flips you around – it’s a quick movement, and it takes you a moment to regain your bearings when you find yourself on your hands and knees on the soft leaves he’s padded the kelku’s bouncy floor with.
“Fuck, yes.” You breathe, guessing where he’s going with this immediately. You arch your back, pushing your ass back eagerly into his hands as he unties your tewng and tosses it aside.
Tsu’tey bears his teeth in a grin, lowering his face to lay a hot, biting kiss between your shoulderblades.
“Needy girl,” He rumbles, groping at your ass as his thumbs roll around your puffy, slick pussy and pull you apart so that he can admire the sticky strands of arousal that drip from you. “You are so swollen here. My poor, neglected little mate. I will make this up to you.”
When brushes his fingers through the puffy lips of your cunt and then pushes inside, you can't quite stifle the whine that escapes you. It drives him crazy. You’re still squirming even on your hands and knees beneath him, and Tsu’tey hunches over you so he can plaster his big chest over your back.
His erection presses thick and heavy against your ass. He grinds into you at the same time as he reaches around and rubs quick, tight circles into your clit. You practically choke, alternating between pushing back into his erection which is laid flushed and hot between your thighs, and pushing forward into his hand, which is still toying with your pussy.
“Come on then, big guy,” You say, your voice wavering slightly as he rubs at your clit. “Stop telling me how good you can fuck me and actually do it.”
That makes Tsu’tey snicker into the hot skin of your neck. Oh, how he can’t wait to fulfill the orders of his bossy little mate.
Grinning, he reaches out and places a hand on the back of your neck before exerting gentle pressure to push you down onto the padded floor. You go willingly, until you’re face down and ass up in a position that has Tsu’tey’s mouth watering. He can smell your arousal, so sweet and dizzying as you lay exposed and waiting for him.
You crane your neck around so that you can see him as he eyes your arched back and exposed behind eagerly. You look flustered, but your eyes are still challenging as you watch him and wait for his next move.
“So impatient, ma’tawtute,” He rumbles, amused.
He smooths a hand over your waist and down over your hip and ass. A quick, open-palmed smack is delivered to the soft, squishy flesh of your ass, and you rock forward with a choked gasp. He was careful to control the pressure he used, but even still the hint of force makes your soft cunt flutter around nothing.
“Come on, big guy,” You gasp, laying your cheek flat against the padded floor as you push your ass back towards him eagerly. “Come on, come on-”
With you all spread out and wet and begging beneath him, his self-control crumbles. He tears off his tewng and grabs at his cock, stroking it with a growled rumble before rubbing the sensitive tip against the slick folds of your cunt.
You’re gasping already, before he even begins to press inside, and he can’t help but feel impossibly endeared by your stubborn nature. Look at you – so determined and eager to take him.
When he does begin to push inside, you drop your head down to the padded floor and moan, clearly just short of overwhelmed. You’re so tight, Tsu’tey swears he nearly blacks out. He pushes in slowly, his front plastered to your little back as one of his arms reaches under your stomach to support you. The two of you are breathing heavily; you from the struggle of accepting his size inside you, and him from the vice-like grip of your cunt.
“Breathe and relax, my small mate,” He grunts, squeezing his eyes tight as he nuzzles into your shoulder. “You are taking me so well.”
You do as he says unthinkingly, gasping a breath and forcing yourself to relax as he presses inside of you inch by excruciating inch. You can't seem to decide if you want him to hurry up and get it over with or go slow and gentle, and you keep alternating between twitching back on his cock and flinching away from it. Tsu’tey, however, is careful to keep a very medium pace; he pushes evenly and steadily until he's seated inside of you, hunched over your back, and then pauses to let you adjust.
As you tremble, face pressed into the floor as your pussy flutters frantically around his cock, Tsu’tey presses soft, insistent kisses all around your back and shoulders. It feels as though you’re trying to squeeze his cock right off, and he grunts a moan into the soft flesh of your bare back as you finally begin to ease up around him.
Then, finally, he begins to move.
"Fuck!" You gasp, squirming a little as he starts up at a steady pace.
When his hands come down to grip your hips and keep you in place, you grab at the leaf-padded floor, fingers scrabbling for purchase as the thrusting of his hips rocks your whole body forward.
He's barely started fucking you at all, but Tsu’tey’s thoughts are already scattered and his body feels like it's close to overheating already. There’s something about seeing you so hungry for him that sends him wild – he’s never taken you from behind before, but the view of your ass stuck up in the air as your cunt sucks him so greedily makes his head spin.
"You feel so good," Tsu’tey murmurs into the side of your throat before biting at it, "So tight around me. Oh, fuck, that's it."
Each thrust pushes you further up the floor, until you’re forced to stop grabbing at the leaf-padding and instead to reach behind you and grab at one of his hands. He takes your hand eagerly, wrapping your odd little five-fingered hand in his own four-fingered one and pinning it to the floor as his other hand uses your hip to pull you back into him. You moan quite happily as you bury your face into the leaf-padding as he fucks you into the floor.
It doesn’t take long before you’re pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts as best you can, and he bares his teeth at the sight beneath him. You’re just adorable – you glance over your shoulder and smile dazedly as you tighten up around him. He makes a soft sound of pleasure and wraps his arm firmly around your stomach to keep you close to him.
“Come on, ma’yawne,” He rumbles, nipping lightly at the juncture of your bare shoulder as you shudder beneath him. “Talk to me.”
You manage an embarrassingly breathless little moan in response, and Tsu’tey snorts a wild sort of laugh. It feels a little as though he's coming apart at the seams. Tsu’tey is big, a fact which is apparently emphasised even further in this position, and it's overwhelming but it's so good — you feel so delightfully perfect, all wrapped around him like a vice as he fills you up.
He must be hitting a spot inside you that makes your legs go weak, because your jaw is slack and you keep making senseless little gasping sounds as you go limp as he fucks into you. It’s so sweet that he thinks momentarily about relenting, but you had asked for this. You did not want him to be gentle, not tonight.
"I didn't hear you." He says, a warning in his voice. His fingers weave into the roots of your hair and fist at the base of your skull, before he pulls your head back so that your face is no longer buried in the floor. “I want to hear you talk to me, my girl.”
"Oh, fucking goddamn shit-" You manage to choke out. His hand pulling your hair has somehow caused you to go semi-boneless as he fucks into you.
He picks up his pace, his hips rolling into yours so that your breath is catching in your chest and your eyes are rolling wildly. When his hand slips under you to start playing with your clit, you make a soft, broken-sounding moan and throw your head back eagerly.
Tsu’tey is so close to coming that his head is actually swimming, his thoughts slow as molasses as every nerve and synapse tunes into you beneath him so that the only thing he can actually focus on is the feel of you gasping and writhing below. He has always taken mating with you seriously, but right now it feels as though his only purpose is touching and stroking and fucking you so good that you forget everything other than him.
“Oh god,” You wheeze, your little hand squeezing tight around his fingers as his other hand uses his grip on your hips to pull you back into his thrusts. “Oh god, oh god, oh god-”
He recognises that frantic edge to your voice, and he bares his teeth in pleasure as he realises just how close you are to coming. His balls slap against your clit with every thrust, and he can feel the way they begin to tighten and draw up as his thrusts get faster. He’s close himself, his teeth practically buzzing with his oncoming orgasm, but he clenches his jaw as he attempts to hold it off. He wants so desperately to come inside you, but only after he’s experienced you creaming and squealing around his cock.
He adjusts his angle just slightly, but it's enough to have you dropping bonelessly back to the floor as you gasp.
"Fuck, there, don't stop!"
He snickers, though it trails off into a winded sort of snarl. His bossy, demanding little demon of a mate. Your orders only make his cock harder, and he lets out a whole body rumble as he feels his cock start to pulse inside your soft, wet, tight insides. He needs you to come now, before he completely loses his mind.
“Come, ma’yawntutsyìp, my precious one,” He grunts, leaving nipping kisses along the length of your spine. “I want to feel your release around me.”
The combination of his cock rubbing and grinding against the soft spongey part inside of you and the messy stimulation of your clit has your legs trembling and pussy quivering wildly. It feels like you’re being strung tighter and tighter under him as your orgasm draws closer and your breath begins coming in rapid pants.
You just manage to get out the words "Oh, yes-!" before the pleasure growing in your belly seems to crest and your back bows as you start to cum. All of the pressure that's been building up in your body is set free with the sweetest release, made all the sweeter by the fact that Tsu’tey keeps rocking into you the whole way through, the heavy head of his cock grinding hard against your G-spot the whole time.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth drops open as your orgasm rocks through you, and Tsu’tey watches with wide eyes and avid interest as your entire little body shudders and shakes beneath him.
“Yes,” He breathes, his whole face contorting in toe-curling pleasure as your cunt clenches and ripples around him. “Yes, my love, so good.”
Your orgasm seems to last forever, leaving your chest heaving and back glittering with sweat, but eventually you reach back and slap at his thigh.
“Turn me around,” You wheeze, sounding winded. “Keep going, I want you to come in me-”
Fuck, how he loves it when you make demands. He doesn’t even wait for you to finish speaking before he pulls out, gripping your hips and flipping you around so that you’re on your back. He pushes back in immediately, snarling out a desperate groan as his cock splits you open all over again, you wrapping him up all snug and tight inside.
One of his hands snakes under your back and curls around your waist to pull you up against him as he pounds into you. With the other arm, he's balanced himself on his forearm beside your head for leverage as he drives into you hard and fast. He is still conscious of your limits, of your soft and fragile little human body, but his head is reeling from the sheer sensation and from the squealing little moans that are escaping your mouth. He’s still careful not to hurt you, but he’s also rolling his hips into your more frantically than he’s ever done before.
When you hike your little legs up over Tsu’tey’s narrow hips and squeeze tight around him, he lets out a rather wrecked, desperate sounding whimper. He drops his head to your chest, shoving the woven chest covering out of the way so that he can suck one of your tits into his mouth, sloppily rolling your nipple around on his tongue and clutching at your ass with one hand when you arch into him.
“Oh, fuck,” You gasp, arching your back so that your breasts are pushed further into his face. Your voice is hoarse — you sound absolutely wrecked. “Oh god, yes, please-”
He's hovering right on the precipice of orgasm — it's obvious by his desperate open-mouthed panting, the way he hunches over as his thrusting starts to turn clumsy, and the way he's messily sucking at your tits.
What really pushes him over the edge, to his honest surprise, is when you moan out, “Fuck, I.. Tsu’tey, I really love you-”
Tsu’tey lets out a choked, desperate groan before dropping his forehead to your breastbone as he comes inside of you. It’s like a wave of white rushes through his mind, wiping everything clean inside his head as he strains desperately against you. The motion of his hips stutters and falters as his brow pinches, and he lets out a long, low moan as he grasps at you, his eyes squeezing shut tight as he feels his cum flood your cunt and overflow, dribbling down your ass.
"Oh." He groans, shivering as his elbows give out and he drops down on top of you so that you’re plastered together from head to toe. He tucks his face into your neck and kisses under your ear, enjoying the heat from your overworked, sweaty bodies while also being hyper-conscious of crushing you.
You’re both covered in a sheen of sweat, which makes your bodies slide slickly together whenever either of you move. Tsu’tey’s hand drifts down over your ass, and he squeezes lazily at the soft, squishy flesh there.
“Are you well, my mate?” He rumbles, still a little dazed as he lifts his head to squint down at you. “Did I- are you hurt?”
You’re staring at the ceiling, mouth softly ajar as you take deep, heaving breaths. His question makes you laugh, though it’s a quiet, breathless little sound.
“No,” You whisper, your mouth curving in a dopy sort of smile. “Only sore in the best way. Fuck, that was good.”
The positive affirmation is exactly what he needed to hear, and he feels his tail begin to sway in slow satisfaction. You had been right, after all – you could take it, and you were not necessarily as delicate as he had feared after your injury. The lazy, contented smile on your face only reassures him further that you are happy and unscathed.
He pulls out carefully, his ears twitching as he leaves your perfect, wet warmth. You hiss at the sensation too, and he rumbles a quiet apology before running the pads of his fingers over your swollen, puffy pussy; his come is dripping slowly out of you, and he rubs absently at the wet white trails to massage it into your skin.
“Bring me to the bed,” You say, though it lacks the demanding edge of the previous requests you had made. You sound sleepy, as though he had entirely worn you out.
His mouth twitches, and he reaches down to scoop you into his arms. You go easily, your head rolling around on your neck as you nuzzle into his chest. To his surprise, his own knees feel a little jelly-like when he moves to stand and put weight on them. Damn, he doesn’t think an orgasm has ever left him reeling like this afterwards.
When he lays you out on the tawtute-style bed he had made for you out of plant fibres and leaves, he crawls up next to you and stretches out, his tail undulating in lazy satisfaction. You roll over and shove your face up against his still glistening chest, burrowing close to him.
“Told you I could take it.” You say. You sound exhausted, but so damn pleased with yourself.
Tsu’tey just laughs, a tired sort of chuckle as he nuzzles his nose into your sweet-smelling hair.
“You take it so well, ma’yawntutsyìp,” He assures you fondly, pressing a little kiss to the top of your small, blunt little ear.
When he takes your hand and pulls it up to his face, he gives a small smile and presses his mouth to the near-invisible remnants of bruising around your wrist. He bares his sharp teeth against your fragile skin as he murmurs, “And I love you too.”
i’m so down bad for this bald dumbass what do i even do???
he’s so fucking ugly i love him so much he’s so cute wtf man ARGGHGHH i want to rub his bald ass head like a fortune ball ;; his wide-set eyes and silly smile make my heart flutter
like okay fine, some of the writing was rushed and spider's acting is a bit mid, but none of that shit matters when quaritch's slutty little waist pops up on screen. like no shot, my spirit dick got so hard when varang like drugged his ass up and bro's pupils dilated like oh my god i'm fiendingggggg
okay so the avatar brainrot has officially taken over; recom miles quaritch and his team have me in a fucking chokeholdddddd. if evil why hot??
anyways, some thots and ideas for the recom unit x human!reader because because bECAUSE *explodes*
++
miles quaritch, the big dog. he was intimidating enough as a human, but as a 9ft something tall alien built for hunting? he fucking oozes authority. i’m thinking you’re one of the RDA scientists specializing in Na’vi biology so your main job is basically taking care of the recom unit’s health and oh, you take good fucking care of quaritch, that’s for sure. he’ll all but command you to look after him: tense muscles that need massaging, minor scrapes he can definitely walk off but chooses not to, and of course, the occasional pent up energy in need of release, wink wink.
he’s probably into cockwarming, of having you mewling on his lap as he works, the old perv. and he’s DEFINITELY into the whole breeding kink — he’ll fuck you face down whispering smugly into your ear how he’ll fill you up so much, how he’ll drench your insides in his seed, how you’ll be so full you’d have no choice but to get pregnant. he’ll call you shit like ‘sweetheart’ or ‘cupcake’ — slightly condescending during the day, but said in that low, raspy, wanton voice when he has you under him, snug around his cock. you called him ‘sir’ once during sex, and he’s never let it go.
lyle wainfleet, smug piece of shit. he’s a bit of a meathead — arrogant and cocky, but make no mistake: he’s still a marine. he’s tough, competent, level-headed and extremely loyal. he’d be a bit of a flirt, a bit of a manwhore, if you will — but when he officially locks in with someone, he’s all in, buttercup.
ngl, i think he’d be a bit selfish in bed at first. he’d make you ride him as he lays back grinning up at you, and the aftercare is practically non-existent. he seems like the type to enjoy a quickie, yanking you aside when you're on your way to the lab, and fucking you hard until your legs are shaky and his cum is dripping down your thighs. he'd pat your back with a smirk on his face as he saunters off, leaving you to clean yourself up so your co-workers don't notice. after some cold shouldering though, he learns. and boy, is he a good fucking student. he learns to be sweeter, learns the way to make you cry out his name as he eats you out, the way you like to be wiped down softly after some hard, nasty sex. and he’d do it all, just to have you scoot closer to him in your post-orgasm haze and cuddle in his arms, soft skin smooth against his.
also i think the first time you two hit, he’d say some stupid shit like “OORAH!”, smacking your ass as he comes inside you without warning, and you’d ignore him for a week before he apologizes.
mansk my beloved ;; he’s a more quiet, stoic type — pretty hard to read when he’s always wearing those bum ass sunglasses. i headcanon him as one of the tallest recoms, next to zhang and warren, so once again, me and my poorly disguised size diff kink comes in play lol. maybe this time you’re one of the xenobotanists sent to pandora, and he’s posted as your security when you go out to collect samples. you’re fucking tiny compared to the large flora of the pandoran rainforest, and it brings out a protective urge inside of him. he’d be quiet but sturdy presence, matching your pace as you walk, silently offering you his large military jacket when you shiver, helping you over uneven ground after that one time you nearly tripped onto your face.
i think mansk would be freaky as fuckkkk. you know what they say about the quiet ones… he’d so be into scent stuff (this may be projection, who knows!) and cum play; i can see him finishing so deep inside you, you’re drenched in his smell inside out. he’d rut against your face, large blue hand pressing his dick down against your nose and brow as he thrusts against your skin, smearing his come and your spittle all over your pretty face. i forgot who put this out there but i saw someone say he’d be a panty thief and HARD agree; he won’t even bother to hide it. he’d drag you to a nearby supply closet, crouching down to press his nose against your neck and huff your scent in, nudge your legs open so he can pull your panties off from underneath your skirt. he’ll press it against his face and all but lick it before pocketing it, the neutral expression on his face betrayed by the outline of his hardening cock in his pants.
zdinarsik, z-dog, zaddyyyyy. zdinarsik is a lesbian, fight the fucking wall. She’s tough, cocky, a bit mean - I can imagine her popping that damn gum while you squirm in her lap while she plays cards with the rest of the squad, a vibrator shoved up your cunt. She’ll ignore the way you whimper softly, ignore the way tears well up in your eyes as you hold back from cumming in front of the entire deja blu team, gripping onto her arm with fluttering lashes and pleading eyes. it’s only once you’re positively trembling that she’ll toss her cards down — regardless of her hand — throw you over her shoulder and dip with nothing but a “deuces, losers,” to her teammates.
she’ll dump you unceremoniously on her giant bunk, fold you in half to admire the way your dripping cunt is swollen and puffy, slipping fingers into the slick folds and out, strings of slick connecting skin. she’ll make you taste yourself, push her long blue fingers into the back of your throat, your eyes rolling back as you try not to choke. she’ll eat you out, gripping you by the hips as she rolls over and holds you against her face, grinning as you cry out and grind down against her insistent tongue. she’ll tell you to sit on her face properly — “c’mon baby, you won’t hurt me. fucking sit on me.”
++
i miss the recom unit </3 like yeah they were evil and worked with the RDA but like, they were also so fucking cutesy and silly idk man ;;
currently on that avatar/AFOP brainrot and… guys… hear me out on avatar!jack abbot.
like as a veteran, he gets the opportunity to become an avatar driver?? and ofc mr idgaf-abt-my-higher-ups-that-teenager-WILL-get-her-abortion sees what the RDA is up to and goes “fuck that” and joins the resistance.
this is totally not just because i want to imagine a 10ft tall, sexy, blue abbot. also totally not because i want to fuck said sexy blue abbot while performing tsaheylu 💀
⋆｡˚✴︎⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆ FULL MASTERLIST(S) ⋆ INBOX ✉
it's just past 6am but i have had a third of this sitting in the docs forever, and i finally decided it was time! i already love him. and this universe. he's seeming to fit pretty well. don't forget to leave a reply and reblog so we can spread the seeds (haha) of jack abbot. it's more fun when we all (s)cream together <3
...WHILE READING LISTEN TO stargirl interlude by the weekend, bed chem by sabrina carpenter, sextape by deftones, and the man in me by bob dylan, 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪
warning(s): SMUT, language, pornstar au, fem!reader, discussion of porn, dana's still lowkey in charge lol, a look inside jack abbot's brain, talks of aging, toys (dildo), reader has pubic hair bc yes, masturbation (m + f), bodily fluids, m/m sex (mentioned), blowjobs (mentioned), some plot, jack reeeeally wants to fuck u <3; +18/mdni
wc ˎˊ˗ 2.0k
Jack's last video still lingers with subtle groans throughout his bones. Along with a warming feeling of pride for another job well done.
The project was an easy-going one–less than a thirty-minute drive between his place and a rental he picked out after flipping through a lookbook with thoughtful eyes as his producers pitched their ideas. Three scenes, four max. You come over to help your younger neighbor, who has recently moved in, hang some shelves. He ends up confiding in you about his recent breakup with a cheating boyfriend. You offer your shoulder to lean on, and then it's whatever you want from there.
Whatever he wanted from there was discussed, as always, at the next production meeting with his co-star, Jamie–a sweetheart of a twenty-seven-year-old with chestnut eyes, a wide nose with multiple piercings, and a head full of dark coils he liked to be tugged whenever he was sucking someone off. Having starred in multiple videos together previously, Jack didn't even have to think twice about calling. Jamie's easily one of his favorites.
The older man felt lucky to have that… the kind of authority it takes to call who he wants when he wants. To be counted on by those around him to bring about a tasteful vision to every scene. To be able to joke with the small but tight crew he worked with as much as he could while the room was being dressed. To dictate what angles he and Jame thought would be them filmed accordingly, no questions asked.
However, for all the opportunities that his seasoned stature spawned, it has still been twenty-five years. Well over nine thousand days of making a living using his body to please others, to ease down the walls and be trusted to hold them at their most vulnerable… keeping his own fences from building up so he can handle his responsibilities with an open mind and centered heart. Knowing the tells for when the day wasn't going to be a good one and trying to fix what he could. All while watching his face change with wrinkles and his hair switch from a deep auburn to a startling, albeit charming, mix of salt and pepper.
His muscles had started to ache more. He needed longer ice baths, and his stump stayed swollen a little longer than it did when he was younger.
In other words, the clock was beginning to tick louder than he cared for. The sound thrived in the silence of his home that he arrived in when he wasn't traveling, and cruelly followed him to the spacious hotel rooms when he had a gig out of town. Taunting him was Father Time, who waited for no one, no matter how often Jack silently begged.
Don't get him wrong, he was still good. Great. One of the top earners of views and tips in the industry, revered by his many peers, and highly sought after on account of the (true) rumor that he never left his partner without making them come, most times, at least twice. Sometimes two.
But he was feelin' it. The youth slipping, as it does.
He rolls his head around a few more times, sighing at the knots in his muscles. They've been like this for the past three days, and the salt bath isn't helping as much as he'd hoped. Always worth it, he thinks as he eases himself out of the bath, wrapping his lower half in a towel, then reaching for his walker sitting nearby.
He trudges himself to his dresser to pull out a simple pair of boxers and socks, both of which he'll shed before slipping into bed for the night. A notification ding on his computer from his office in the next room over snatches his attention. Instead, he postpones dressing and keeps the towel, making way for the device to find an email from Dana, his close friend and producer, who only ever messaged at this hour when she had found something–someone–worth it.
'Might have a new one for you. Very new, but there's something about her. She was great in today's shoot.
Here's her page: (LINK.)
Check it out… then get some fucking sleep, okay?'
Staring at the words, Jack thinks. Then clicks the link before he can talk himself out of it.
Your name is the first thing he reads. Jack's eyes sweep over the familiar font, a long inhale rattling his insides with a keen tremble. He doesn't breathe until again he scrolls, the art of blinking now becoming lost while he inspects.
Only three videos. Interesting. Only one of them seems to have been filmed by you; maybe with a phone camera or the one on your laptop. The angle is good, at least on the thumbnail. Cute. One he would choose, and that goes for the lighting, too. Not overly-distracting to take away from the real show, but gleaming with just enough of the warm luminescence to make it look like you're made of stardust.
Jack clears his throat. Nothing's there, yet his body still needed something to remind him of reality. Flicking his eyes around the room, he calls things out in his head.
The 55-inch television he hasn't watched in he doesn't know how long. A Chocolate Aglaonema in the corner near the bathroom. Shit, he needs to water that, shouldn't he? Later. Tomorrow. Benjamin Moore Salamander colored walls. The pretty woman on his computer screen, who's making him shift in his seat. Oh, wait–
Hm. So much for that.
The click of his keypad feels like a crack of thunder. The distant kind that helps him fall asleep faster than normal when he can find the methods to quiet his always and ever-working mind. When the video plays, he forgets to inhale faster than he did last time.
Your face isn't the next place he means to look, so, of course, that's where his stare zips. Jack doesn't mind or judge the amateurs who refuse to reveal anything above their shoulders. In this world of the internet and its endless memory, identity is a precious commodity. That's why you–and those eyes and lips and cheeks and chin–crash him into a loop of gulped spit and a tightened jaw. It's… it's a nice face. You have a nice face, and that's all Jack lets himself think before he remembers what he's supposed to be doing.
The video, man. Watch the video.
Your bra and panties and a bra and panties. Endearingly unmatched but fitting you well. The top, you slide off yourself to reveal your chest with a tasteful bite of the lip when you ghost a teasing touch over your nipples. They harden quickly and easily as you change positions, moving so you can part your knees to reveal a wet spot you'd been hiding up until now.
A little noise from Jack. Something between a moan and a grunt. Forgotten as fast as it came.
He doesn't move an inch when you methodically strip your cotton panties, flicking them to the side with a regular amount of grace. Jack drags his eyes over the patch of hair above your clit, appreciating your authenticity as he looks at the rest of you. Not inspecting. No glance overs. Just looking.
Your slit's already dripping, and he'd bet real dollars that you'd been thinking of doing this all day. Whatever day this was, you'd danced with an hours-long fantasy of touching yourself. Treating yourself to these moments of shared pleasure. It's a feeling he knows well, lives for, and gets lost in. A feeling he's already thinking of what it would be like to share alongside you.
A flash of color enters the screen. The toy, the dildo, forces Jack to blink. Then he bites back a grin because he has that same one.
After lubing up the silicone–good–with movements he'll probably dream about, you don't take as much time with gliding it around your entrance like he would. He sees your stomach rise with a breath of poorly-contained anticipation. Soon after, it splits a matching jerk with your chest once you slip the tip inside, trading any real respiration for light gasps as you inch it the rest of the way inside.
Tilting his head, Jack breathes deep and almost even. Patience, sweetheart. It'll feel worth it once it's all fucked and done.
Seeing your asshole clench a few times while your pussy adjusts to the welcome intrusion makes him stiff. Shit, no. Sniff. Sniffing is what he tried to get his body to do, but instead, it stiffens to the point that it feels good. It's a different tense from the one in the bath, one that shoots straight down to the swelling cock he's been ignoring.
Jack considers a series of options that blip into his head to the sound of light squelches. Peeking back at the screen, the man nearly falls face-first into a well of enchantment at how much you've managed to leak out since he saw you a handful of seconds ago.
Okay.
Fine.
A slight tug on his towel collapses his fabric to his sides. His dick bobs the the air, and only now does Jack feel it; just how deep the ache has settled. It swirls with a familiar heat, leaking an impressive amount of precum from his head. The second he grabs himself, more clear drools from his head in long strings of want. A little shudder leaves his nose at the feeling, returning himself to the screen to find you've sped up the speed at which you're fucking yourself.
Jack doesn't realize the groan he lets out when you sink the toy deeper and then squirm like it's almost there. Like it's almost hitting the spot but not completely. He wonders, hand moving lightly like it's trying not to align with the pumping of your dildo. How fast would he be able to find it? Get you whining and crying while he rubs it from the inside and out?
A glob of spit drops from his lips, then down onto his shaft. If he's gonna be bad, might as well make it feel good.
His hand gets his rhythm to sync up with yours faster than he expects. He can't find it in himself to close his eyes. Nothing will make him miss the show you're putting on, especially now that you're choking out quiet curses and just barely swallowing down the louder wails that attempt to leave that mouth of yours.
Fuck, what he would give to hear you in person, loud and hopefully sobbing about how good he feels pumping in and out of you. Fingers, tongue, dick–he doesn't care. He just wants to see and feel you full of him.
Jack finds himself coming just after you do. Your shaking and squeezing and creaming tugs him right along into a peak higher than he expects. He has to hold onto the thick of his desk, making sure to angle his messy spurts toward his stomach. His blurred vision surprises him. The lack of optical focus doesn't happen for long, but it's enough to force a grunting "oh, fuck," from the bottom of his chest. Behind it follows your name. Almost as if you were here with them, ready to catch the load on your face. The four full gushes of come spew across his skin almost feel like a waste.
With the little energy he has left, Jack wipes his stomach and softening cock with his towel.
So much for that bath, huh?
Several deep breaths later, slumped against the back of his chair, his head is clear. Clear enough, but inching closer and closer to the urge to sleep.
The video. It wasn't too long or too short. By no means was it perfect either, which was exactly what he wanted.
Nothing's perfect, nor should it be. It's just…
You're different. You're real. Eager and so real that it's spellbinding. He can tell from the way you stared past the lens and right into him.
Another huff, Jack blowing his cheeks. Instead of closing the window of your video, he only minimizes it, returning the screen to Dana's email.
'Great find. Only took one to see that you're right (as usual). She's a little quiet, but I think that's something she and I could fix if she's up for it.
Go ahead and put us in touch. I'll handle introductions if it gets that far.
Thanks, D.'
☰ dividers credit ˎˊ˗ @/cursed-carmine
. . . ⓘ LOADING TAPE 2. . . "WORKING OUT THE KINKS"
hi!! i'm doing okay, thank you so much for checking in ;; i've just gotten a bit busy with the holidays since i'm being dragged from function to function, but it's fun haha. i've also been kind of fixated on avatar frontiers of pandora. like no joke, i sat down for 8 hours straight playing that game... so uh, yeah :]
I WILL BE BACK ON THE WRITING GRIND SOON, TRUST!!
also again, thanks for checking in that's so sweet of you ;;;;;; <3
Charlie isn’t the best at aftercare. It took you having to show him exactly what you like for him to get it. When you first started sleeping together Charlie would maybe toss a rag your way if he remembered but ultimately he would give you a kiss and roll off of you so he could clean himself up. He never had anyone stay after he fucked them- they’d get dressed and leave or he would be the one to leave so he never really knew what they did after.
It wasn’t until you got mad at his lack of attention and respect that you showed him what you needed. You don’t always stay over but even then he learned to help you come down after he rearranged your insides and scrambled all thoughts you had- he wouldn’t pull away immediately but he’d at least wait until you’re both breathing normally to go and get something to clean up with. He also realized how messy sex was without a condom after you told him as much. It was simple- something that he didn’t understand at the time but now it’s part of the intimacy itself because Charlie is the only one who can take care of you.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Charlie is a proud man. Honestly pretty vain if you’re both being honest but at his age he’s most proud of his strength. He doesn’t sit behind a desk like most in his position are known for- he’s in the field and still puts himself in the middle of the action. He still gets up early to work out- if the weather is decent he’ll even go for a run around the neighborhood. He values his strength because it’s a physical display of his personality and intelligence in his mind- he doesn’t do anything that isn’t intentionally showing the character he’s portraying. He knows he can protect you. He can keep you safe. And he knows he can pin you down easily or pick you up without a struggle- he’s fucked you against the wall more times than you can count and didn’t falter once.
If you ask him- he’ll smirk and say your tits or your ass, maybe even your thighs or what’s between them. But when you’re asleep and pressed against his chest? He realizes his favorite thing about you is your softness. Contrasting perfectly to his rough exterior- you’re sweet and soft, maybe too soft for someone like him but he loves it. Physically and emotionally you’re soft for him. Your skin is smooth and sweet when he’s on top of you- soft body held against his and he swears you both fit perfectly together like you were made for him. Everything about you is so soft- even your hands when you timidly drag them over the muscles of his torso or down his back were gentle. He especially loves how soft you are for him and only him.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Charlie loves to cum inside you. He’ll grumble and complain when you make him wear a condom-
“It doesn’t feel right sweetheart”
“Is’not the same baby”
“I just wanna be close t’you angel”
But not because he wants to gamble with your reproductive system- he just wants to claim you as his in the most intimate way possible. He likes to paint you with ropes of his cum- yes. But there’s nothing more satisfying than fucking his cum inside you and watching it seep out of your tired hole- pussy spasming and clenching around nothing like his cock was still inside you. Charlie is the only one who gets to cum inside you. And nothing is more satisfying than when you beg-
“Please Charlie- inside me baby, cum inside me,” after you had begged him to put the condom on and then not even a few minutes later asking him to take it off- helping him even.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
The first time you and Charlie fucked without a condom he came almost immediately- but you didn’t notice or maybe you were too fucked out to care. Either way- he came after a few pumps of his cock inside you, hiding the grunt when he came by biting the meat of your shoulder which left a violent mark that he apologized for.
But you felt too fucking good for him to stop after 2 minutes of a few weak thrusts- Charlie didn’t even embarrass himself that way when he was a teenager. No- the man persevered. Praying to whatever god that will listen to him of all people that you don’t notice him going soft or that you won’t feel him getting hard again inside you. God it felt so fucking weird fucking you with his limp dick but the heavens answered what he assumes is his last favor- all while his Saint Michael medallion was currently fluttering back and forth over your face. Charlie clearly wasn’t the most religious anymore but at least he knew he could call in a solid every once in a while- after he hardened up against he lasted at least ten more minutes. He told you to take it as a compliment.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
The man fucks.
Charlie Reid fucks. Knows how to fuck. But he doesn’t truly understand how to pleasure until it’s with someone he actually wants to be right for. It’s easy for him to climb on top of someone and feed his cock into them but it wasn’t so easy to kiss someone- to touch and love them like he does you. It’s not the same. Sure he’s had partners but he’s never even scratched the surface of intimacy.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Charlie loves doggy- he really likes bending you over any surface but he loves spanking you while his other hand snakes between your thighs to rub your clit. Loves pressing your face into the mattress- hearing those muffled groans and feeling your pussy clench around him. Charlie loves threading his fingers through your hair- yanking you up so your back is flush against his chest and he can roughly growl in your ear- “feel good baby?” With a slap against your pussy and bite along your neck.
He’s also a fan of reverse cowgirl, how your ass is in the perfect position for a good slap and he can watch his cock slip in and out of your wet pussy- gives him an opportunity to use his thumb to rub against your ass and push in if he so dares.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Charlie is a serious man and sex has always been more of a stress reliever than anything- before he got together with you it was something to blow off some steam. But then once he had you underneath him- it switched from being used as stress relief to being used for intimacy and love.
And Charlie is actually fucking hilarious if you make it past all his walls- his snarky comments under his breath or twisted remarks said only so you can hear them. He makes you laugh- and sometimes yes, while he was balls deep he threw in a joke or two about how fucked out you looked or- “talkin’ all that shit earlier sweetheart- now look a’you,” with a smirk.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Nothing Charlie does is not for display- Charlie is a man who portrays himself as certain way so people will see power and control and yes, that even means down to his pubic hair.
The happy trail stays untouched- trailing from the plush whorls of greying hair on his chest down to his softened abs, disappearing into his waistband where he trims the hair at the base of his cock. No longer a darker auburn, greying as well and yes there’s a brief moment of insecurity when he sees an actual white hair on his body but when you wrap your arms around his waist and call him handsome or pull him into the bed with you while he attempts to get ready for work it disappears quickly.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He learns. For you Charlie learns intimacy and tenderness- he lets you over his walls and Charlie is kind of old school in some aspects of being a romantic.
Charlie doesn’t say ‘I love you’ so much as he shows you. Every week he comes home with fresh flowers for you, when he has a slow morning he spends the time making you breakfast and waking you up with a soft kiss, he calls you randomly during those long nights where he’s holed up in the precinct because he just misses your voice.
The closest he’ll get is while he slides inside you real slow- savoring the feelings of your wet walls and soft mewls of his name and he’ll ask- “do you love me baby?” with his forehead pressed against yours, closing his eyes and stopping the slow thrusts until you’re coherent enough to nod- to say “yes Charlie- fuck- I love you so much” through a broken moan.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He does- he likes it. When he’s too stressed? Hand around his cock. Relaxed? Hand around his cock. Thinking about how you kissed him this morning? Locked office door and hand around his cock. Sometimes you’ll get a messy text where he asks you to send him a picture of you- any picture will do. Otherwise he’s pulling up his little hidden folder where he has videos he made of you taking his cock so well- he likes the way you whine his name.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Somnophilia: Charlie loves the look you get when you’re waking up stuffed full of his cock- seconds away from cumming while you mumble sleepily a little “hmm- Charlie? Baby?” before feeling the electrifying spasms of an orgasm ripping through your barely awake body.
Breeding: Is it really any surprise that Charlie likes to fill you full of his cum? Pumping every drop into your spent pussy with grunts of praise, asking if- “want me t’fuck a baby in you pretty girl? Yeah? I know y’do- pussy tightenin up when I ask,” Does Charlie want kids? Not at all- but he can’t deny that the idea of you being tied to him forever in some way turns him on more than he’d like to admit. You’d give him pretty babies. Maybe in another life.
Impact play: Charlie loves to mark you up- loves to spank your ass while you’re laying on your front and fucking yourself back against his cock. He loves slapping your pussy a few times when he pulls out- slipping his fingers inside you before making you cum over and over again. He likes a slap across your face before smearing his pre-cum along your lips- asking “wanna taste my cock pretty girl?”
Bondage: specifically with his handcuffs. Keeping your hands restrained behind your back while he bounces you up and down on his cock- smirking and asking if you were “gonna to act like a brat imma fuck you like one.” Or keeping you tied against the bed with those cuffs digging into your wrists while he uses the vibrator you bought against your clit- “wanted t’cum with a toy? Here you go baby- cum.”
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere- as long as it’s with you.
Bed? He’ll have you spread out on his expensive sheets drooling from how good he’s fucking you. Couch? Grab the back and give him your ass. Kitchen counter? Stay still while he drills into you- hoping you remembered to turn off the stove this time. Shower? Sneak in while he’s taking a shower before work so he can press you against the tiles. The precinct? Charlie has your mouth stuffed full of his cock- on your knees with heavy lashes looking up at him. In the car? Bouncing in his lap while the shaking of the vehicle can’t be mistaken for anything but rough fucking.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
After a rough day at work Charlie needs to feel like he’s in control of something- like he still has the world in his palm, so once he comes home and sees you curled up in his clothes while making dinner or getting ready to go out? The switch flips. His cock is hard and immediately he has you underneath him while he pounds out his stress. He comes home after a drug bust or outing the gang or judge that’s been getting on his nerves lately and it’s like he’s high- a one track mind of pure adrenaline and just when he pulls you into his lap to make you ride his cock until your thighs shake and even then- “another one baby, pussy feels s’fuckin good- hugs me so tight.”
That being said- there’s also something about watching you get ready for bed that does him in. Not in anything fancy or even lingerie but how you sit at your vanity to take your makeup off or put your hair up properly so you can sleep comfortably- you’re wearing his old, ratty police academy shirt to bed, a pair of his boxers and slathering moisturizer on your face. It gets Charlie hard- because it’s domestic. It means you’re comfortable and it means you’re staying- you’re keeping him.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Charlie will absolutely not share you. No threesomes, no one else touching you- the idea makes him fucking seethe. No one can treat you the way you deserve- other than him of course.
He’ll hurt you but to a point. Bruises from his mouth only- a slap on your ass or maybe across your face but nothing to permanently damage you.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Nothing satisfies that man more than seeing you on your knees for him- mouth open and pussy dripping for him to shove his cock between your lips with a thick grunt and a- “this what y’needed to shut the fuck up?” He loves the way your mouth is stretched to accommodate his cock- lips pulled taut and drool leaking down your chin with every pass of his thick length between your lips. Charlie loves how eagerly you open that pretty mouth for him too- so willing and sweet to take him down your throat. Especially when you gag and claw this meaty thighs to let up- no, that means you need to be trained better. He’ll wrap a hand around your hair or grab your head to force feed you his dick.
This is gonna break a lot of Charlie girls’s hearts- even my own, but I don’t think he’s a munch or a big pussy eater. This is not a man who will get on his knees for just anyone and it’s just not his favorite- maybe it really takes him some time before he’s willing to lick your cunt but once he tastes you- he’s hooked. It’s rare but sometimes he just wants a little sweet treat and while you’re blissfully unaware of the scheming he does- you’ll wake up with his head between your thighs and tongue exploring your walls. He also uses it as punishment- sucking on your clit with his thick arms caging you into his mouth, powerless to stop him because he’s handcuffed you to the bed.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Usually brutal- rough, heavy slaps of his hips against yours. But they’re slow. They’re deliberate. Charlie wants you to feels every thick inch of his fat cock as he punches out the breaths from your lungs- slow pull out of your tight heat before ramming back inside you for another equally mind altering thrust.
But after a night where he was almost taken from you or where he’s reminded of his own short mortality? Charlie takes his time- slow, needy, sensual thrusts in and out of you while he buries his face in your neck to inhale your sweet scent and feel the way you claw at his back. It’s for his own peace of mind than anything.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Sometimes it’s what gets him through the week- a quickie after he surprises you by coming home for lunch. Bending you over the kitchen counter with quick slaps of his hips against yours and growling out how you have no idea “how bad I fuckin’ needed this angel,”
Quick fucks in the car with you bouncing in his lap- fucking yourself on his cock with the steering wheel uncomfortably digging into your lower back but you can’t care about anything more than how he feels inside you. His mouth occupied with your tits- lazily sucking and flicking his tongue along your nipples- biting when he wants to be a bastard and feel your pussy clench around him.
Silencing your loud moans and whimpers of his name with his mouth pressed against your own- dragging your hips back and forth along his cock while he tries to remember if he locked the door to his office in the precinct or not. All you were there to do was bring him a dinner or a change of clothes while he stays late again for the third time that week- but immediately he crowded you into his office and had barely enough time to slide your panties to the side and brace yourself against his shoulders before he fucks up into you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Charlie lives his days by risks- his entire operation is a risk. He’ll try anything you ask- within reason obviously. But the man loves to teeter and play jump rope with risk- will have you naked in his lap while he’s fully clothed, riding his dick in his SUV without a care in the world that someone could pass by and peek in.
He loves a little risk. Life is fun- life is interesting with a little risk.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Charlie isn’t a young man anymore- on wrong side of 50 and sure, he’s in better shape than most of the men his age and maybe even a few that are your age but his fucking knees aren’t what they used to be. Usually has to wait at least 20 minutes after cumming to get hard again.
But it depends on the night really- a regular day of the week? Charlie can go at least a long 30-45 minute round with some kind of intermission. Maybe if he’s really in a mood he’ll throw in a second round that’s a lot shorter.
When there’s a close call? When Charlie comes home after nearly being shot or injured that he absolutely does not tell you about because he doesn’t want to upset you? He can go all night. Running on adrenaline and fear. Afraid that he almost left you alone in this shitty world where he’s sure you’re the only good thing that was left- high off the way you sigh his name and tell him that you love him while he’s buried deep inside you for the third time that night. He’ll let you rest- sleep of whatever mood he came home in until you feel his lips on your skin and the head of his cock sliding between your folds once more.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Charlie will be offended if you even try to ask him to get or use a toy. Yes he thinks you should be satisfied enough with just him and if you’re not then he’ll make sure you regret asking for more. His handcuffs do not count as toys though- and yes he uses them on you regularly.
But say you do get curious- wondering about something that you both can use or that Charlie can use on you? You’ll be overstimulated within minutes- the little wand vibrator pushed against your clit while he fucks deep inside your weeping pussy- smug and- “wanted a toy right baby? don’t cry about it now- you’re gonna keep cumming until I say you’re done.”
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Charlie Reid and teasing go hand in hand.
Smug son of a bitch loves looking over you with three fingers stuffed inside your wet pussy- smirking and asking “y’said you wanted me inside you baby? Am I not inside you?” emphasizing his point with a thick finger rubbing against the spongy spot of your velvety walls that has you squirm and spasm underneath him.
Begging him to cum like he likes? You can guarantee you’re crying fat, wet tears because you’ve came 4 times and your clit is swollen and on fire but he slaps a roughs hand on your pussy before diving back in with a shit eating grin and- “no, no, no sweetheart- take another one, you wanted this- right?”
Hand pushing him back? Crying from how much pleasure he was giving you? Now he goes impossibly slow- sliding between your achy walls with so little urgency that you feel every inch, vein, ridge of his cock that you’re seeing stars.
Charlie is a tease.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He’s not to much loud as he is vocal. Deep grunts in your ear that you feel in your chest when he’s pressed against you.
Snarky comments, stream of thought about how “fucking amazing you feel angel, perfect, tight pussy- creaming jus’ f’me baby? gonna fill this cunt up okay? relax baby- shhh- take it. I know how good my cock feels- like that baby?”
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Charlie wants a kiss before he leaves for work. But he also likes how you get mad when he runs out the door on a busy day- pouring and texting him before he even gets in the car, calling him all sorts of names while he smirks are the string of messages coming in. It makes his day better- knowing there’s someone at home who’s excited to see him. Who runs up to him when he makes it throw the door to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders with a kiss- squealing when his hands grab heavy handfuls of your ass before he uses it as leverage to pick you up.
Groaning against your lips while he walks you through the house with slow, heavy steps like he’s in no rush to fuck you- sitting back against the couch with his tongue hot and sliding against yours. “You didn’t kiss me goodbye this morning,” you’ll pull away- pouting but still loving his heavy hands on your hips to grind you a little into his cock that’s straining the front of his jeans.
“No? I’m sorry angel- still love me?” And he wants to hear ‘yes’, that you still love him. Not for the kiss- for the blood on his hands and the things he’s done to be where he is. The answer is still yes.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
8 inches of fat, thick, uncut cock- nice little vein on the right side that you feel on your tongue. Dark, greying curls that he keeps trimmed.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
For a man his age- Charlie has a pretty high sex drive. Sometimes it’s you who has a struggle to keep up with him- asking for a break or water while he’s ready to dive in again when his body allows him.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Not very quickly- only because he likes the quiet moment after. Where you’re pressed against him- head on his chest, drawing little shapes into his skin or twirling the hair on his chest before you doze off. He likes to stay up a little longer to remind himself that you’re the end game for him- every single thing he does is to make your life easier and eventually to leave this all behind so you can relax on some island miles away or up north in a cabin with him. Wherever the fuck you want- as long as he’s there with you.
watching s12 of chicago pd just for hatosy and i physically combust every time he’s on screen. like fuck the police fr, but also… like fuck the police if you catch my tokyo drift, yk?
like ughhhh the concept of being charlie reid’s dog but not in a “kneel, bitch,” kind of way, but in a pampered lap dog kind of way?
like yeah, put a collar on me and call me your pet, but also like put me on a cushioned pedestal and adore me. like ooo i’m sooooo good for you and you think i’m sooooo pretty, and i’ll sit by your feet and lean my head against your lap while you work aAAAARGHHHHH
idk man something about that evil middle aged white man has me fiending ;;;;;;
Trying to write sex scenes is so aggravating because honestly describing sex is pretty boring. It's mostly just people putting bits of themselves on or inside other people's bits so you run into a lot of "they walked to another room" type problems where you can get caught up in just describing where everyone's limbs and shit are. What really makes smut interesting and hot, in my opinion at least, is sensory description but that's also hard because you'll be sitting there trying to find a new way to say "they were feeling sexual pleasure and it felt pretty good". Then you also have to figure out how to write dialogue that doesn't sound completely ridiculous and hackneyed. Really makes you want to just write "they boned down real good and it was totally hot trust me, it was definitely the kind of thing you'd want to jerk your shit to," and have done with it.
