#god i could go on and on and on about how unfair it is that his image is picked apart and baseless rumours define him outside of the fandom | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artdcnaldson · 1 day

Note

patrick hive to the rescue because im thinking, as i often do, about friends to lovers with patrick where you're kind of upset because he and art have gotten around and you're still struggling on the dating scene, maybe you're shy, probably you just have standards, and its really just all starting to bug you because you're worked up!!!!! imagine hanging out with patrick during the summer - the room is sticky with humidity, despite the air conditioning being on full blast. you're hot and irritated and sexually frustrated. patrick being half clothed isn't helping, either - you can see the gleam of sweat on his bare chest - the dusking of hair on his thick thighs as he lounges back with a cigarette. you're going mad, it feels like you could detonate at any second your clit is so on fire - throbbing and achey and everytime you press you sweat slick thighs together it makes it worse.

patrick is looking at his phone - so you take the chane - just a small touch - just for some relief. you're on the bed, there's a plushi blocking his view - it cant hurt just to slide a sneaky hand down the band of your shorts and panties. just to stroke your swollen slit. surely he wont noitce if you just...... rub yourself a little. while you sneak glances at his toned body - just peeks, really. if you're very quiet (you do realize the sticky squelch of your cunt can be heard across the room, right? you dont) you might even be able to cum undetected

GODDDDD FUCK!!!! This was supposed to be a chill, normal, short response. Instead I ignored 2 work calls bc it’s that serious.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (exibitionism/voyeurism, f!masturbation, not fingering but a secret third adjacent thing, extreme levels of horniness)

A/N: Patrick Hive we Linked and Built <3

Patrick thought it was so sweet that you invited him to visit your home for the summer. Apparently you’d sung nothing but his praises to your parents, because even though you were both eighteen, they let him sleep on the floor of your room on a blow up mattress, trusting him that much.

Which was annoying. You weren’t fucking Patrick (not for lack of wanting to), but they could’ve at least given you the benefit of the doubt and assumed that you might have some sort of sexual urges. It made your stupid fucking celibacy that much more embarrassing.

You’re home alone with him and the power’s out— a stupid, heat-induced rolling blackout. The open window only seems to usher in more hot summer air, so you’re both down to as few layers as would be appropriate. You, were down to a thin T-shirt and your panties. Patrick was only in a pair of grey nylon shorts. Sweat was beading down his bare chest, which was so fucking unfair.

Because it was Patrick, whose chest hair and happy trail made your mouth fill with drool any time you were treated to the sight of it. It was summer, and he was frequently shirtless, and you still hadn’t gotten used to the sight. Any sane person would want to lave their tongue along his chest, tasting the sweat and salt of his skin. That was… so totally normal to think about.

Patrick fucked your neighbor— the cute one who was going to a state school so she could be a kindergarten teacher. You didn’t know, but you were pretty sure. You’d been swimming in the pool during a cul-de-sac cookout, and they’d disappeared after a while. Patrick didn’t say anything that night, probably to protect your delicate sensibilities, but you could just kind of sense it.

God, it was unfair. All of the guys your age had girlfriends, or something. And the single ones were cute, but Patrick always seemed to fuck things up for you, either actively, or because you would always wind up talking about him. And because your parents thought it was totally fine for him to sleep in your room, you were surviving off of weak, rushed orgasms in the shower.

It was supposed to be a fun, sexy summer before you went off to college, and Patrick was totally ruining it. How was it fair that he got to fuck around and get his rocks off while you spent your summer feeling like you were wearing a fucking chastity belt?

And you were so wet it was uncomfortable, sticky between your thighs with absolutely no relief. Patrick was sitting on the fucking Air mattress, propped up by your cute, pink pillows and plushies that he’d stolen, watching a rerun of The Hills on MTV. His hand dangled out the open bedroom window so the smell of smoke wouldn’t get stuck in your innocent little bedroom.

He stretched, and you watched with an open mouth as he blew the cigarette smoke out the window. Pretty fucking lips, his muscles all taut as he turned. He looked back at the TV, and you exhaled a shaky breath. Fuck, you were so turned on you wanted to scream. Your pussy was just drooling into your panties, clit throbbing and aching for attention, your entire body felt empty, desperate to be filled up.

You were practically buried in your stuffed animal collection, which was embarrassing on any other day (Patrick had nearly laughed at the sight, but you’d insisted that you couldn’t just throw all of them away… they were nostalgic), but you’d never been more grateful until that moment.

You were already pretty well covered, thanks to the near life size bear sitting beside you— the perfect safety net. Your pulse was thundering in your chest, making you feel a little dizzy with anxiety or arousal, or a strange new mix of both.

You were burning hot between your thighs— throbbing and soaked all sticky and slick. Your legs twitched instinctively as your fingertips dipped into your core, where a pool of your arousal awaited. A shaky gasp escaped you as you moved your slick fingers up to your neglected clit, and you quickly muffled the noise into your pillow

It was like you’d never really touched yourself before. The level of need and desperation within you was completely unknown until that point. Your eyes rolled back as you began grinding up against your fingers. Your teeth dug into your lip to stay quiet as you played with your clit as discreetly as you could.

Patrick shifted to get more comfortable. Flexing his thighs just slightly, rubbing sweaty palms against the muscles there. He ashed his cigarette with his gaze locked on the TV. “This shit is so boring,” he muttered.

And fuck, his voice. You considered arguing with him, just so he’d get louder, and his voice would get more intense, and you’d be able to fuck yourself to completion to the sound of him speaking.

Your poor, neglected pussy clenched around absolutely nothing, begging to be filled by his dick, his fingers, your fingers, a toy, a hairbrush, fucking anything. Your panties were absolutely sodden— drenched to the point of forming a transparent little spot right above your cunt.

If Patrick had looked over, or, if he had unfocused his eyes just right and peered into the reflection of the TV screen, he would’ve been able to make out the sight of your fingers, moving steadily, desperately against your clit. If he had done that.

Your toes curled just slightly, thighs closing around your hand as you got closer and closer. It was loud— just how much you were moving. You needed— god, you needed so much in that moment. You grabbed a random plushie— a pink rabbit that you probably got with that years’ Easter basket— and held it over your lap. Yeah, that worked. Super casual, perfect way to hide the way your hand was working your clit.

And the pressure. Jesus Christ, the pressure of the warm stuffed animal over your cunt was too nice to resist. You’d have to throw it away after, you knew, but you couldn’t help but grind yourself up against it. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine it was his lap, or his thigh, or something warm and soft and hard for you to rut against.

But you couldn’t close your eyes, because you had to watch Patrick. To make sure he didn’t know what you were doing. An arm slung behind his head, the muscles highlighted by the shiny sheen of sweat there. You whimpered pathetically, muffled into the pillows. He probably heard, he pretended he didn’t. It was that level of feigned ignorance that let you keep going.

He probably knew, you could pretend he didn’t. The razor’s edge between you and a much needed, earth-shattering orgasm hinged on that level of ignorance.

So you pathetically humped against your fingers, and the stuffed rabbit, and chased at the bliss that was so fucking close you could taste it like metal on your tongue. Your thighs squeezed around the rabbit as you came, soaking through and making even more of a mess of your panties, and the rabbit, and your sheets, and your fingers.

You hadn’t realized how loud you were breathing. It was like someone had been holding you underwater and you could only just now hear the world with a shocking sense of clarity. Your body felt hot all over, your legs felt like jelly. You hid the stuffed rabbit beneath a discarded blanket, a problem for later. Legs crossed so you could hide the soaked mess between your legs.

Sure, you could play that off.

“You could’ve asked me to leave,” Patrick said around his cigarette. There was a twist to his lips, a sense of amusement. “Nah, you probably didn’t want me to. Too busy eye fucking me while you defiled that poor little bunny.”

He stood, noticeably hard in his shorts, which you weren’t looking at weren’t looking at weren’t looking at. He grabbed your ankles and pulled your legs apart, all while wearing the smug sort of expression that got you to this position in the first place. Really, it was all his fault. His eyes trailed up your legs, to the glistening mess coating your upper thighs, and the sheer mess of your panties.

“Huh.” His hands moved up your thighs and you exhaled shakily, parting them more to accommodate him, whatever he wanted, whatever he was thinking. You could come a thousand more times just for him, at his every whim. But that was the repression talking, not just because of him.

Your breath caught as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and he peeled them down. His expression held the same sort of concentration that you saw him exhibit on the court. Focused on you, it made your heart pound.

“No wonder you were so loud, huh?” He teased, fingers gliding through your slit. It was embarrassing how wet you were, coating his fingers and palm in your arousal. Each light brush against your clit made your thighs twitch, made a desperate keen escape you. “I could hear it the second you started, by the way. But even before that, I could fucking smell how turned on you were. You could’ve said something, you know. I would’ve taken care of you, made it real nice.”

You moaned softly, eyes wide as you peered up at him. When he removed his hands from your pussy you fucking whined— pouting as he held his fingers up to the light and grinned at the glistening mess left behind. You watched those fingers disappear between plush lips, tongue sweeping out to clean them up. His cock jumped behind the shorts he wore from want.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” you insisted, sitting up to rub him through the fabric. “It’s hot, we’re both horny and bored. Just use me. It’ll feel nice.”

He didn’t take much convincing. He’d been rubbing his dick raw on that stupid fucking inflatable mattress every night when you were asleep anyway. How could he not? You were just too adorable.

@poppy-metal your mind amazes me no words no thoughts just this <3 thank youuuuuu for this in my inbox it truly kept me fed

#i wrote this on the clock hashtag girlboss #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig fanfic #patrick zweig smut #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader

239 notes · View notes

xjulixred45x · 2 days

Text

I HAVE A ANGST IDEA FOR A HADES GAME READER!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!

Did you see how Demeter made all life on earth incredibly difficult for mortals as punishment for having "stolen her daughter"? Well, based on the fact that in myths people literally DYING OF STARVATION (and apparently in the game, of cold) this idea came to me.

Imagine that the reader is a normal mortal, nothing particularly remarkable, EXCEPT that she is a farmer with the rest of her family, who just before the eternal winter came, they worshiped Demeter so they could have good crops and so on.

but then, without warning, winter arrives.

At first it's not so bad, because they can ration certain things and get by with some groceries, but as the months go by and the winter continues to get worse, so does the situation in the reader's house.

The surrounding villages begin to have pests, have problems with resources, not having to eat, etc. and the first deaths begin thanks to this, which quickly spread throughout the community where the reader lives.

The first to fall from the family are the most vulnerable, the grandparents and children of the reader's younger siblings, to whom they perform the appropriate funeral rituals along with all the people who had already died due to the winter.

Everyone's life is turned upside down trying to find ways to survive without having a coast to fish and with now few animals, and the cold gets worse and worse...

The community soon begins to decay and reader participates in the funeral rituals out of respect and to not think about the horrible situation, becoming more educated in the chnotic gods.

They are all desperate to survive, but the snow makes it almost impossible to leave the city where they live, so they are stuck.

It doesn't take long until the reader's parents also succumb, either from illness, from the cold, or from starvation from giving all the food to their surviving child.

and it's not even the worst.

reader is now sick too. So the remaining people of the town cannot allow her to make them all sick and kill them, so after giving the proper services to her family, they lock her in her own house.

but at this point the reader is so tired that she doesn't even mind being isolated. but she knows one thing. she can't allow herself to die like this. not because it is degrading or unfair, but because she knows that if she dies and no one performs an adequate ritual for her, she will not even see her family in the afterlife.

all the pain and suffering in vain.

So against all odds, the reader finds ways to survive on her own at home, constantly being in the limbo of life and death due to her horrible health.

and, thanks to this, the reader meets Thanatos.

I think I'll leave it vague if the relationship would be platonic or romantic, but they definitely got off to a bad start.

We already know that Thanatos finds his work exhausting, so the fact that the reader clung to life and did not want to leave even when she was in horrible conditions bothered him to no end.

and on the other hand, the reader OBVIOUSLY did not want to die and it was annoying that he wished her dead (even if it was technically his job?) and that led to several verbal fights. at first.

Thanatos appeared at the reader's house when she was especially weak, whether she could not move on her own, had respiratory attacks and/or was in special pain, etc. episodes that, although temporary, were still close encounters with death.

When Reader and Thanatos eventually get tired of insulting each other in these moments, at first they just wait to see whether Reader will survive this particular episode or not, in a rather tense silence.

It is not until the third or fourth time this happens that the reader begins a conversation with Thanatos in an "informal" way.

As one can imagine, at first Thanatos didn't even react or try to continue with said conversation, just do his job and leave, but as time went by he began to show more signs of listening to what the reader was saying. and eventually even give short answers.

He doesn't share much, but now the reader doesn't go crazy being alone.

I also imagine that on some occasions, when the reader can't move much, she DRAG to go get food/medicine, which bothers Thanatos because it seems 1- unhygienic and 2- stupid in a certain sense, mortals get sick because of it. not taking care of themselves, does she NOT want to get better?

It is from there that their relationship begins to improve, but the reader's health worsens every day.

It's the same as what happens with the other villagers that Thanatos collects, weakness, coughing up blood, pain in the rib cage, inability to eat, difficulty breathing--

but even so, the reader STILL wants to cling to this miserable existence, she can't even eat or stand anymore and STILL doesn't want to leave...

WHY? WHY SUFFER THIS WAY INSTEAD OF SIMPLY DIE?

and the reader's response is quite simple.

There is no one who can give her a burial, but her family did have one, without that she would simply wander through the Underworld and be alone AGAIN.

but at the same time, the reader no longer has the strength to continue holding on, the pain is UNBEARABLE and the little energy she has leaves her...

Thanatos is there, at least.

I like to think that the reader would agree to go with Thanatos VOLUNTARILY if he even lets her see her family one last time, thus dying peacefully.

And it would be especially ironic if by chance the reader ends up as a shadow in the house of Hades😅

I think that in general, a deceased reader would be like a more responsible Hypnos, she is not going to bother the GOD OF DEATH so she does the minimum ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

She is definitely happier now that she is no longer in pain, but she was quite traumatized by the experience :') although on the positive side, she is one of the few people who can play pranks on Thanaros with almost no consequences!

simply....mortal reader sheneigans.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Maybe i could use this Reader with another characters? Idk. I didn't know how to finish this but i like it!

#keep the reader away from Demeter She will insult her in a thousand languages regardless of whether she is a goddess.#fem reader #drabbles #hades au #hades game #hades 2 #hades supergiant #supergiant hades #hades game x reader #hades #hades thanatos #thanatos x reader #platonic reader #its kind of ambiguos if this is romantic or platonic #whatever you like #¯⁠\⁠ ⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠ ⁠/⁠¯

26 notes · View notes