NSFW Alphabet - Cullen Rutherford × You/Reader
I rewrote the NSFW Alphabet to reflect MY style. I simply did not feel well with how I handled it the last time. It was not aligned with what I treasure and actually envision. This is more subtle, penetrating, reverent, emotionally erotic. This is how I personally approach Sex and see Cullen Rutherford approaching it, as well. Not based on pure projection, but what his protrayal gives away.
Cullen is a man who treats closeness as sacred, even if he never calls it that.
Afterwards, he wraps around you with a gentleness that is not softness but devotion.
He breathes into the curve of your neck.
He murmurs your name like a grounding spell.
You feel protected, not owned.
For Cullen, aftercare is the moment where desire becomes tenderness.
Your shoulders and the nape of your neck.
He kisses them as if they reveal something he has no words for.
The vulnerability of pulse beneath skin, the trust required to let him press his mouth there...
He loves the way your body folds into his chest, how you lean back into him - that trust undoes him.
On himself? His hands. They're scarred from years of sword work, capable of protecting - but with you, they're also instruments of devotion.
He is controlled - but not cold.
When he finishes inside you, he holds your hips with a reverence that borders on awe.
He buries his face against your throat and breathes through the shudder.
If it’s on you, he immediately cups your cheek afterwards, grounding you both back into gentleness.
Release is not conquest to him.
He is dominant only in the way a deeply masculine, deeply restrained man becomes dominant:
by presence, not performance. (I won´t start an entire essay on it here, but it would deserve it.)
When he takes control, it feels like:
knowing exactly when to push and when to pause.
And you follow not because he asks, but because you trust him.
That being said: He wants to learn you, so he listens and observes, not uncomfortable with letting you set the direction.
but selective. (I imagine he had maybe one or two casual lovers in his younger years. He was not merely attractive and later a templar, he was and is also inherently curious. A healthy male like Cullen with enough opportunity would most certainly want to make experiences.) - EDIT: Actually have come to believe he is a virgin before sleeping with the Inquisitor.
A past marked by discipline, restraint, and loneliness does not erase desire; it distills it.
He knows how to move, how to kiss, how to anchor his weight over yours with devastating self-control -
but you are the first woman he has ever loved with his whole being.
And that makes everything different.
His fantasies are surprisingly simple and disarmingly intimate.
You straddling him, his hands on your thighs, your lips against his neck as he whispers your name like he’s afraid to break the moment.
He holds your hips with a devotion that feels like prayer.
His touch is firm - never harsh - but guiding, present, claiming without claiming.
He also grips the sheets when he tries not to climax too quickly.
(And your wrist - very lightly - when he kisses the inside of your arm.)
That’s the moment he nearly loses control.
He loves when your hair brushes his face as you lean down to kiss him - it makes something deep in him break open.
Running your fingers through his hair absolutely destroys him.
He leans into it without meaning to.
It is one of the most intimate things you can do to him.
Cullen’s intimacy is soul-level.
He doesn’t raise his voice.
He doesn’t say obscene things.
He doesn’t ask for theatrics.
He looks at you - fully, entirely - and you feel seen in a way most men are incapable of.
Sex with him feels like a promise.
He won’t lash out or accuse.
He will simply stand closer, touch your back lightly, and look at you with a seriousness that says:
“Do you still choose me?”
He does not fear losing you to desire.
He fears losing you to war, sickness or your own self-neglect. (Forgetting to eat during the day due to work e.g.)
Cullen is not kinky in the theatrical sense.
your breath on his throat
your hands buried in his hair
the sound you make when he enters you gently
you tightening around him without meaning to
your thighs squeezing his hips
the small gasp you give when he finally fills you
He likes intimacy so intense it borders on overwhelming.
He prefers a bed, or anywhere private enough that he can focus entirely on you.
He will not risk your dignity or comfort for a thrill.
But a secluded balcony, a quiet library corner, or a room with a locked door?
If he’s overwhelmed, if you touch him just right…
he will pull you in, kiss you breathless, and press you against the nearest wall.
Cullen does not moan loudly - he is not that man.
your name softly spoken in restraint and worship alike
the way he breathes out sharply when you tighten around him
the stifled groan when he holds himself back
the broken sigh when he finally loses control
He is shy the first time.
He undresses slowly, carefully, almost reverently, as if he is afraid of making the moment crude.
He watches your face as he reveals himself, analyzing every flicker of your expression - waiting for your acceptance.
When your eyes soften, he breathes out in relief, almost trembling with it.
He is passionate but gentle; enjoying your clean, musky-warm taste on his tongue.
He holds your hip with one hand and your thigh with the other, keeping you steady as he maps your reactions with near-military precision.
Completely still, except for the way his fingers knot in your hair as if he can’t decide whether to pull you closer or pull you away before he breaks.
Slow enough to torment both of you, until something snaps -
and then he holds you firmly and thrusts with a buried hunger that has nothing to do with aggression and everything to do with need.
He always returns to gentleness afterward.
But everything he says is soft, breathless, close to your skin:
“Tell me if you need more.”
His voice alone could make you come.
He avoids risk when it comes to you.
He would never do anything that might expose you to mockery, shame, or discomfort.
But if the door is locked, the room is dim, and you look at him with that softness he can’t refuse-
He loses caution faster than he admits.
Pregnancy? He wants to unite fully with you and have a family, but he would not risk your health or disrespecting you by making demands.
He doesn’t chase endurance for ego.
He chases it so he can stay with you, in you, as long as you want him.
Your pleasure has to be ensured, and he does not want to part from you too quickly. His extraordinary discipline is admirable. (Supercedes that of a common templar. He broke lyrium addiction on his own - something considered impossible by most.)
Once you signal your satisfaction, that man loses himself fully.
He treats you like something rare - not fragile, but cherished.
He becomes uninhibited only when you are already undone.
When your breath catches,
The moment he enters you slowly -
that is his most vulnerable state.
He looks at you like he sees his entire future in your face.
He never looks at anyone else that way.
Making love to him feels like pressing into a furnace - a safe, grounding, overwhelming heat.
Cullen is the rare man whose self-control makes him erotic.
shudders when he holds back
breathes sharply through his nose
trembles when he tries not to overwhelm you
loses himself only when you are already lost
His restraint is the desire.
in the tilt of his head when you touch him,
the pause before he releases your hand,
the way he watches your mouth when you speak.
He yearns like a man afraid to misstep -
but unable to stop wanting.
(He yearns in many ways, but this is the NSFW list and not the fluffy SFW one, so we stay with the theme.)
His peak comes with your name on his breath,
his hands holding you as though you might disappear,
and his eyes - half-lidded, loving, astonished - fixed on you as he shudders through release.
For him, climax is not just pleasure.
To the truth of his heart.
To the life he never let himself imagine.