Tyr - M Firbolg x NB Human (Reader) // NSFW Monster Match
Monster match for @wildcardwithaheart <3
Matches under the read more!
Content: NSFW/Lemon; drinking alcohol (unspecified), intimate embraces (cuddling, sitting closely together, thigh touching), teasing, flirting, light kissing, mutual pining (idiots to lovers/friends to lovers), slight possessiveness/protectiveness, throat kisses, dirty talk, praise kink, giving oral/blowjob (no explicit release), receiving oral (+ release), fading out
Masterlist // Monster Match Info + Masterlist // My Ko-Fi
So rarely you let your thoughts free in unfamiliar environments that your soft commentary remained unchallenged. You hadn't then considered how out of place you were - invited by a friend, and the burden of a stare weighed heavy on your conscience.
Had you overstepped?
Conversation drifted from the topic (one contentious after your input), though cushions sunk beside you. Returning with two new drinks, braids as thick as an orc's tangling at his nape, you shared a small smile with the firbolg leaning close, braced by an arm behind your shoulders.
From the first question, you knew Tyr would ease his way into your heart.
Voice naturally low, he rumbled, "why would you think that?"
Even the alcohol hadn't coaxed you from your shell, though he presented a newer challenge. "Why wouldn't I?"
When your friend extended an invitation to another gathering - promising it to be not quite a party and not all strangers you couldn't help wondering if Tyr would be there.
The firbolg and the stubble gracing his dusk-toned, rounded jaw barely left your mind before entering another lounge. For having met him only once, you agonised for far too long over what to wear.
It felt like so much longer with how easily you warmed to his presence, and the press of a heavy hand to your lower back came without any sudden nerves on your part - only a flutter in your navel.
Every hope of steering the conversation to something you were knowledgeable on fled. Time passed by clinging to his flippant comments, wanting to learn more about him and by extension, his interests, but you could remember nothing as you found his dark lips rising, frame leaning down against you.
Two unopened bottles clinked in his palm.
Sentences flowed without inhibition, even before alcohol banished any last anxieties. At any potential intrusion, Tyr gently guided them away - each time encouraging you to continue with a gentle nod.
That he wanted to hear more flustered you well past finishing your drinks, when he leaned closer.
So close, his hand reached for your thigh and tightened.
"While you find the end of your sentence," he murmured. "I'll get us another drink."
He didn't seat himself that near when he returned and a sudden ache crept over the pleasure of the evening; a reminder that what you shared was nothing more than a common interest in knowledge, not in one another.
Until the next, smaller night, you forced all thoughts of Tyr from mind.
A passing comment had burned you. It lured you together and he braced himself by holding a hand over yours.
Only when your friend laughed did his proximity register.
"Why don't you just kiss already?"
Tyr's words faltered on a sharp breath and you swallowed, whispering, "why would we kiss?"
Nothing more was said, and you left for refills before the firbolg could, desperate for air.
He still followed.
Wide, furred ears twitched as you scuffed your feet.
"Let me be the first to say it." Careful steps closer brought him to stand almost flush against you. "I've been an idiot."
Why don't you just kiss already?
"Glad you've finally come to your senses."
In the pale light, you almost deceived yourself into believing his cheeks were flushed darker when he stroked calloused palms to yours. "Quiet, you." He bowed his head to whisper, "let me kiss you?"
Too shocked to nod - too scared of scaring him away, you lifted to kiss him yourself. If muffled voices searched in your path after a prolonged disappearance, neither of you cared, lost as you were in finally having the other, his touch flitting along your hips.
He tasted sweet on your lips.
"I could learn something from you."
Tyr chuckled. "Took you long enough to admit it."
"Kiss me again?"
There came the conclusion to persisting debates turning into arguments. One lift of your chin or a tap to his jaw signalled the end by a slanting of lips, often too breathless to speak for a long while after.
Tonight of all nights - somewhat an anniversary of little more than a month officially dating, the tension knotted through your body couldn't be displaced by a guiding tap of fingertips to your cheeks. However much you adored the firbolg pinning you to his lap by an arm thick with muscle, his lips occasionally soft against your shoulder, your debate wasn't with him.
Never conceding or admitting the retorts you offered were far more comprehensible than their alcohol-induced rant, you itched to leave. Tyr no longer needed to hear you express your unease - when you tried to explain, all that left you was a strained whine - and your slight fidgeting became enough of an indication that he hid a smile in your nape.
He steered you out, eventually leading you home - not without a sharp warning gritted between teeth when the drunken guest baited you back. All of the strain from the night seemed to drain from you indoors, a plea for a calm remainder of the night on the tip of your tongue, only for it to be swept away by Tyr's parting your lips and his deep groan.
Rough palms ran over your waist, down lower, sinking into the backs of your thighs. "You make me so proud," he murmured, thumbs stroking heavy patterns nearer your aching hips. "Clever little thing."
Stuttering and gasping at the arm of the sofa digging against your back, you breathed, "I am?"
"The things your pretty lips can do."
Like that, so simply, you buckled. Resting back and allowing him to guide your palm to his unbuckled trousers, you stroked his hardening length - the same darker hue as his lips, trembling. Tyr nudged his hips forward and stroked over your hair.
"Want to show me what else they do?"
The promise of how your evening would now be spent made your chest tighten. "Please."
Having him ease the swollen head of his cock between your lips filled you with the same warmth he let free in a husky breath of your name. His pleasure surrounded you in every sudden intake as you cupped him, leaning forward, taking him deeper.
"Keep being good for me - so, so good, aren't you?"
When his cock twitched at your tongue tracing his seeping slit, so very near now, he returned the favour by taking you in his arms and laying you on the bed. Tyr never failed to undress you by admiring your outfit, the effort gone into it, and you felt his adoration with the weight of his hips dragging up between yours. Soft sighs nuzzled against your inner thigh - "look at you, waiting so patiently for me," he'd whisper with a gentle kiss - before bringing his tongue where you ached most until you bucked against him.
If engaging in debate with someone else led to this, you would do it more often.
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