hii may i request NSFW alphabet hcs with Iso from valorant? 👀
He pretends like he doesn’t care, muttering things like “Tch. Don’t get clingy.” but he’s already pulling the blanket over you and rubbing soothing circles on your hips. Lowkey wraps a protective arm around you while you sleep, even if he denies it in the morning. Tsundere-tier aftercare.
B — Body part (fav on you & himself)
On you: your lips. He’s obsessed. Bites them while kissing, thumbs at them when you’re pouting, fucks you just to shut them up sometimes.
On him: his hands. They’re elegant, scarred, and precise — he knows exactly how to use them, and he likes the contrast of his gloved fingers pressing deep into soft, trembling skin.
Possessive about it, lowkey. He wants it in you. On your chest? Cute. Down your throat? Even better. But nothing beats filling you up and seeing it drip later. He’ll never say it out loud though — he just stares. Like a psycho. A little proud.
Low voice, mean words, pretty face. Iso whispers filthy things right in your ear, never raising his tone, just pure venom and lust like:
“So messy already? All I did was touch you. Pathetic.”
“Beg. I want to hear how much you need me.”
He gets even filthier when you talk back. Loves when you challenge him.
Canonically mysterious, but he’s definitely had casual flings. He’s not the type to catch feelings easy — but when he does? He’s dangerously attentive. Knows how to fuck, edge, overstimulate, dominate — and get you addicted.
Anything that lets him keep eye contact — missionary, chair-riding, pronebone. But his #1 is you riding him while he sits back, watching with that lazy-lidded stare, hands gripping your waist.
“Use me. That’s what you wanted, right?”
Absolutely not. This man is allergic to cringe. But sometimes—when you tease him too much and he gets flustered—he’ll mutter in Mandarin under his breath and act all annoyed. He’s secretly cute when embarrassed.
Trimmed, neat, well-kept. He grooms like a perfectionist. You’ll never catch him looking messy unless you ruin him in bed (which he hates admitting he likes).
Acts cold in public. But when it’s just the two of you? He’s deeply intense. He watches you like you’re a target and fucks you like he’s been starving. Loving you is his biggest weakness—and he knows it.
He’s disciplined, but has needs. Usually gets off quick and quiet—gloved hand over his mouth, stroking himself slow while imagining your voice, your eyes, your moans. His fantasies are detailed, even if he pretends they’re not.
• Powerplay (he likes being in control… but also loves when you take it)
• Choking (light) — hand on your throat, watching your eyes flutter
• Clothes-on sex — unzipped suit, undone gloves, you half-stripped over a desk
• Marking kink — but he hides the bruises you leave under his turtleneck
• Mutual teasing — verbal sparring is his foreplay
Private, sleek, aesthetic. Likes dark rooms, black satin sheets, hotel bathrooms with floor-to-ceiling mirrors. He gets off on control and mood, so he sets the scene intentionally.
Frustration. Jealousy. The way you look at him when you know he’s close to breaking. He’s weak for bratty teasing too — especially if you whisper “Come on… snap.”
No degrading unless he’s 1000% sure you want it. No public displays. No recording. He’s private as hell and doesn’t trust easy. Anyone seeing you like that? Never happening.
Giving: Controlled, patient, lethal. He eats like it’s an art. Minimal sound, intense eye contact, hands gripping your thighs tight.
Receiving: Stoic at first, but once he starts moaning? He won’t stop thrusting into your mouth until you’re drooling.
Slow, deliberate, and punishing. He wants you to feel every thrust. But if he’s jealous or angry? It gets rough. Deep. Fast. Bruising. His rhythm is methodical either way — he doesn’t waste a single stroke.
Big yes. Especially during missions, backstage, or right before a kill.
“You’ve got 3 minutes. Make it count.”
You’d think he’s joking. He’s not.
Surprisingly willing, if it means breaking his own cold exterior for you. He’s stealthy and strategic, so sneaky sex in public-ish places? Total turn-on.
INSANE. He’s a duelist. Peak physical condition. Can go multiple rounds without breaking a sweat. And he loves edging you between them, dragging out your pleasure for hours.
Keeps a very discreet drawer of sleek, black toys. Vibrators, plugs, restraints. He prefers using his hands, but when he does use toys — it’s intense. Silent. Controlled. All for the purpose of watching you fall apart.
SO MEAN. Loves teasing. Will edge you ‘til you cry, lick you once, then pull away.
“You don’t deserve it yet.”
But then he’ll whisper praise the moment you finally break. He’s a sadist… with a soft heart buried deep.
He’s a grunter/growler. Low, breathy moans. But when you make him lose control? He gasps. Hisses. Whispers your name like it hurts.
When he finally lets go, he’s unhinged. You thought he was cold and in control? Try him fucking you so hard the headboard cracks, panting against your ear, whispering how much he needs you. It’s scary hot.
X — X-ray (what’s under the clothes)
Lean muscle. Subtle abs. Pretty v-line. Scars. Surprisingly soft skin in contrast to his sharp image. He’s deceptively beautiful once you peel him open.
He acts like he doesn’t care. But he’s the type to fuck you deep and slow after a mission, forehead pressed to yours, whispering, “I need this. I need you.”
He burns with desire — he just hides it well.
He acts like he doesn’t like cuddling. But his body betrays him. He always ends up with you curled into his chest, arm slung around you possessively, breathing even and soft. If you move? He pulls you back without a word.
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