#these are so fucking bad but i wanted to draw him so bad

[issysh3ll]

Practice ☆ Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Matt volunteers himself as kissing practice Warnings: bsf Matt, kissing

Silence stretches between you and Matt as you sit at opposite ends of the couch. You've already said goodbye but your ride is running late.

Your best friend seems perfectly content at his end of the sofa, phone in hand and arm spread across the back of the cushions lazily. But you are on edge.

The person picking you up isn't just a ride home.

It's a ride to a date.

A first date

Usually, that wouldn't be something that would put you on edge like this, but it's been months since you were last interested in anyone and this guy seems really interested in you.

Checking your phone again anxiously, you see no message from the date in question. With a groan, you slide down the couch to the floor.

"He's running pretty late." Matt points out, watching you slide off the couch and onto the floor.

"I know," you groan, "I'm already nervous, all this waiting is making it worse."

"Why are you nervous?" Matt asks, sliding along the couch to look at you on the floor.

Sighing, you pull yourself up into a sitting position and turn to face your friend. "I don't know, it's just been a while. And what if.."

Matt raises an eyebrow.

"...What if he tries to kiss me."

Matt responds with a shrug and a very matter of fact tone. "Then you kiss him back."

"But, like, what if I'm bad? I'm out of practice"

You've spoken to Matt about your relationships before, he's seen you kiss people at parties, but it's been months since your last kiss.

Matt motions for you to join him on the couch again and as you settle into the spot next to him he speaks up. "So then practice."

"On who?"

"On me." At his words, your eyebrows shoot up. You've never considered Matt in that way before and now here he is just offering himself up as kissing practice. He is attractive, though, not that you usually pay much attention to it. As you take in his appearance now, you remember. His blue eyes are full of sincerity, brown hair falling messily over his forehead. The grey crewneck he's wearing is loose around the neck, revealing the glint of silver from his chain necklace hiding underneath. In the brief silent pause, Matt raises a nervous hand to scratch at his neck. Even his hands are attractive. But he's your friend. Your best friend. You're not supposed to see him that way.

Your eyes flick back and forth between his, searching for any sign of a joke but you don't find one, and then he speaks again, this time his voice is low, almost pleading. "Kiss me."

The gravelly sound of his eager voice causes your chest to jump, your heat beating faster as Matt inches closer to you. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, drawing your eyes to them. And fuck, do they look tempting.

"Matt..." You whisper. A quiet warning that this might change everything, that it's not a good idea. But as his face leans closer to yours, you can't hear those warnings anymore. The sound of your racing heart drowns out the doubts. The sight of Matt's eyes fluttering closed, the feel of his breath dusting over your lips as he whispers your name in response.

It's all so tempting.

You tilt your chin upward, closing the small gap between you. Your lips brush against Matt's in a teasing sweep. The slightest touch sends sparks through you, your lips tingling. But it's not enough. After that tiny taste you need more.

Your hands rise to his face, gripping his cheeks and holding him as you smash your lips onto his again, this time with more force, more eagerness.

You want this.

And he wants it too.

As your mouth parts and your tongue glides over his lips, he lets out a breathy moan, eagerly reciprocating. Your tongues tangle in a sloppy, messy dance between your mouths. Each movement causes your chest to squeeze, yearning for more.

Always more.

You can tell that Matt is eager for more as well. His fingers curl in your hair, urging you closer. Small groans slip free from his mouth into yours each time you glide your tongue over his.

But just as you shift your hands to the back of his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss, your phone buzzes and Matt pulls away panting.

"Your date's here." He says through heavy breaths.

You grab the phone out of Matt's hands and toss it into your bag at the end of the couch. "I don't care. This isn't practice anymore."

Masterlist

[rambling-at-midnight]

Whatever You Need

Request: Jason helping reader through their period

Pairing: Jason Todd x afab!Reader

Summary: Your period takes you by surprise. Luckily, Jason's there to take care of you.

Word count: 1.6k

Sorry this took so long... I started four different Jason fics, which means none were finished. But they should be finished and posted sometime soon.

Sprawled on the couch in your pajamas, watching an episode of The Great British Bake-Off that you’ve seen at least twice before, you feel the first twinge of pain in your abdomen. You don’t think much of it at first, which is a mistake. There are still two days before your period is supposed to start, and you ate ice cream after dinner even though you’re lactose intolerant and ran out of Lact-Aid a couple days ago. You figure you’ll head to the bathroom to deal with the consequences of your actions if the need arises, but you’re too comfortable to move when the weighted blanket on top of you has a name and that name is Jason Todd.

You’ve been on bedrest (or couchrest) for the past week and a half after a bad fall in the rain during patrol twisted your ankle. It swelled to twice its normal size. The upside was that it happened during winter break so you didn’t have to make the choice between limping to class or skipping. The downside was that you wanted your superhero persona to have more of a presence with Gotham’s goons. As a part-time hero, unlike Jason and most of his family, you get much less respect when suited up than, say, the Red Hood.

As a contestant’s dough fails to rise and they begin to have a breakdown on the screen, your stomach cramps again.

Sometimes, if you ignore it, the pain will go away. You’re too comfortable to get up now.

To distract yourself, you run your fingers through Jason’s messy curls. He doesn’t have a wash routine, so they’re always frizzier than Dick’s, but you’ve never minded. He’s devastatingly handsome either way. At least like this he looks a little bit less like something come to life straight out of your fantasies. He’s just a little more real.

Jason hums sleepily and pushes his head into your hands, a bit like a cat nuzzling at you. It’s been a lazy day for you both. You’ve been in the same position on the couch for hours—you on your back, half-watching the show, half-dozing, and him on his stomach in the cradle of your legs, head pillowed on your stomach, not even pretending to watch the show, judging by his closed eyes.

Your stomach cramps again, and this time you feel it—the ache even lower, and a wet heat blooming between your thighs. “Oh, fuck me.”

Jason takes a minute to respond, still interested in your fingers that make his entire body tingle when you massage in just the right way. Then he cranes his neck up, brow furrowed and bottom lip jutting out with his confused frown. “Okay?” He starts to sit up, hands reaching for the hem of your shirt, but you draw your legs up and out from under him and roll off the couch.

“No, not literally,” you say through gritted teeth. “Fuck—did I stain the cushion?” It was no big loss—you’d found the couch on the side of the road and Jason helped you bring it up to your apartment and sanitize it—but a bloodstain would stand out on the light brown color.

“Oh,” he says with realization as you run to the bathroom and slam the door behind you. “The couch is good!” he calls.

Your pants aren’t. It looks like someone died between your legs. You’ve always had heavy periods, especially the first couple days, accompanied by strong cramps. If you get ahead of them and take pain meds, they’re not too bad. Sometimes you can even patrol. But playing catch-up with ibuprofen is a recipe for disaster.

The rest of the day is going to suck.

Because you always feel gross when you’re on your period, and because no amount of wipes would fully clean up the mess between your legs, you hop into the shower and turn up the heat until your skin is bright pink. Jason pops in for a second to drop off a change of underpants and sweats, then ducks out just as quickly.

Turning off the water starts the race against time. As quickly as you can, you apply your preferred hygiene product before any more blood can leak down your leg. Then you towel off and shrug on the new clothes. You still feel icky, but the new clothes and shower helped slightly.

Something sizzles in the kitchen when you open the bathroom door.

“Hey, honey,” says Jason without turning around, standing in front of the stove. He points at the table. “Meds and water are right there. How are you feeling?”

“Ugh,” is your response. You down the pills and almost set the glass back on the table, but at his insistent look, finish it off. Hydration helps with cramps as well.

“You’re two days early.”

“Well, I haven’t been patrolling. Exercise changes can throw my cycle out of whack.” You sniff. “What are you making? It smells good.”

“Chicken stir fry.” You peek into the pan and see broccoli, bell peppers, and a couple other vegetables frying with the chicken. The covered pan behind it, you know without looking, contains rice. “I also have ginger tea brewing.”

All of it, every part of the meal, is meant to help reduce your symptoms and pain.

You can’t help it. How is he always so thoughtful? You throw your arms around Jason’s middle and squeeze. So he can keep stirring the food, he shifts until you’re tucked beneath one arm. His hair is in complete disarray from your fingers like he just walked through a tornado. When he notices your gaze, red colors his cheeks and he flattens his hair down self-consciously.

You press a kiss to his shoulder, the highest place you can reach without stretching.

“Go sit down,” he pretends to scold.

In response, you lean into him, heavier and heavier, until he’s practically carrying you. Jason doesn’t even blink at the added weight.

“I plugged in your heating pad,” he says. “It’s right by the couch.” Another thing right next to the couch is a coffee table he stole from the manor when he was pissed at Bruce. On top of it is a bar of dark chocolate and a freshly-washed bowl of your favorite berries.

You kiss his shoulder again. Jason kisses the top of your head, then nudges you away with his chin. “Go. Sit down. Rest your ankle and your uterus.”

“That is not how it works,” you say, mirth in your voice.

“It’s how I think it works,” he mumbles.

When the food is done, he brings two bowls over. You lift your legs and he slips underneath them. He uses your shins on his thighs as a makeshift table, balancing the bowl between them, and absentmindedly rubs your weaker ankle with the hand not holding his spoon.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence as The Great British Bake-Off plays. You finish first, and as soon as he sets his bowl down, you sit up slightly and make grabby hands at him. “C’mere.”

Jason pretends to roll his eyes, but judging by the line of kisses he trails from your wrist to the inside of your elbow as he lies down, he doesn’t mind your bossiness too much.

You shiver at every brush of his lips against the sensitive skin of your forearm. It’s almost enough to distract you from the cramping that’s beginning in your abdomen again—a cramping that eases slightly when he’s atop you again, resting the gentle pressure of his weight on your stomach. Warm, fed, and with his weight on you, is it any wonder you fall asleep?

You’re only woken by Jason’s gentle hand shaking you, telling you that it’s been eight hours since you last applied your feminine hygiene product and you need to change it. You’re tired and sore and cranky, but as soon as you blink your eyes open he has pain medication and water for you to take.

You do so in the bathroom in a daze and tumble into your shared bed, tugging Jason in with you. He goes down easily, using his huge, warm form to surround you with his easy, comforting scent. You left the heating pad on the couch, but the thick arm Jason winds around your stomach does the job well enough, and you drift back to sleep quickly, never fully awake in the first place.

The next morning, you wake to an aching back and stained sheets.

You stare up at the ceiling and swear, which unfortunately wakes Jason, who lifts his head and stares at you, one eye still crusted with sleep. His curls are in wild disarray, one side flattened from the pillow and the other on end as if he’s been spending his spare time sticking forks in electrical sockets.

If the cramps have gotten to your spine already, then the next few days are going to be hell. And this was a nice pair of sheets! The blood had better wash out.

Jason grunts and lowers his head. “Everything we own is bloodstained, honey. Though usually it’s mine.”

You leave him in bed. Your hair feels way too greasy, and your skin feels tacky, and even after a half-hour shower, you still don’t feel great.

As soon as you step out of the bathroom, Jason is there with chocolate-chip pancakes he made himself, accompanied by a fresh bowl of fruit and more meds.

Emotion rises in your throat. You want to tell him so much, like that you love him even though you haven’t said it, or that you can’t fathom going through your period on your own anymore, but all that comes out is, “You’re perfect. You know that? You really don’t have to do all this—or stay home from patrol for me.”

Jason tousles his messy curls and shrugs. “Well, I’m gonna anyway. You need me, and I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

DC Taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts @cliosunshine @fictionalwhor3 @bellathecatastrophe @lonely-star2044 @flanhog @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t

Let me know if there's anything you want to see from me!

[dominicfikeenthusiast]

MORNING / MATT STURNIOLO

“the feeling below his stomach ever so prominent this morning”

matts arms wrapped around your waist from the behind, his head resting gently in the crook of your neck. your bodies were pressed up against each-other, so close. “fuck” matt mumbled, the feeling below his stomach ever so prominent this morning.

usually matt would think this was some what of a calm morning, with you fast asleep in his arms, the sunshine beginning to creep through the window. but right now all matt could think of was the very uncomfortable bulge in his pj’s.

matt knew he couldn’t fix the problem himself, espically with you right beside him. god he never wanted you to be awake so bad. his hips involuntarily were rubbing against your ass.

you shuffled a little, a small soft breath leaving your mouth. matt was hoping that meant you were waking up. “baby” he whispered. you let out a little incoherent mumble, still being half-asleep. although you were conscious enough to feel matt. you moved your hips pushing your self back into matt a tiny bit more. which in turn woke you up even more.

“oh god” he groaned. biting his lips to contain a moan. “please, i need you” mumbles matt. you let out a soft hum. his lips brushed against your neck, peppering you with soft kisses. “matt” you whispered. “can you help me baby? i’ll do everything i promise, just gotta lay here f’me” he mumbled in between kisses.

god he sounded so desperate, but more so you could feel how desperate he was. you felt a little bad knowing he was probably so uncomfortable. and you had to admit, morning sex didn’t sound so bad. “mmm go ahead” you mumble.

a small smile on matt’s face appeared when you gave him the confirmation he needed. his hips bucked forwards again, causing a small moan to exist your mouth. hearing your little noises, only made matt harder, if that was even possible.

matt shifted his body on tops of yours. his lips immediately attaching onto yours. “thank you” he whispered, as his fingers latched onto your shorts, swiftly pulling them off. his cold fingers glided across your thin wet underwear, in between your folds making you gasp. “so wet f’me already” he whispered.

matt didn’t waste any more time. removing your underwear and his pjs which he conveniently wasn’t wearing boxers underneath. his throbbing cock immediately springing out. his tip glistening with pre-cum. “need you so bad” he whispers, placing him self in-between your legs.

matt put one hand on your hip, to hold you in place. the other held your hand, his fingers brush against yours. “take a deep breath f’me yeah?” he whispered. you did as he did, while he slowly slid the tip in. you let out another gasp, much louder this time. “oh fuck” matt moans, slowly pushing himself deeper.

“mmm- feel so good wrapped around me, so perfect” matt praises. slowly he began pumping himself in & out of you. “matt” you moan. “god i’m so lucky” he groans, his dick hitting your spot. causing another loud moan to leave your mouth.

his lips meet your neck again, leaving soft marks against your skin. as he continues the slow movements of his hips rocking back & forth. the room filled the echoes of just your moans.

it’s only a couple moments later before you feel that ever so familiar knot in your stomach. so could matt whom was patiently waiting for you to finish first. although he didn’t speed up, or rush you. he just took his time, feeling himself push deeper & deeper inside of you. your walls wrapped so tightly around his dick.

“oh god- mm gonna cum” you mumble out. matt gently squeezed your hand in response. as the feeling washed through your body. “oh fuck- matt” you moan out one last time as you orgasm.

matt let out a low gullutural moan, his grip on your hips tighten as he released “fuckkk” he groans, his body falling beside yours. a sigh of relief hits you both as you lay down.

a moment of silence drifts through the room. matt fingers idly drawing circles on your skin. your head laying gently onto his chest. a sense of comfort is evident.

it’s not long till you interrupt the silence. “soo what are we feeling for breakfast?” you ask trying not to giggle. matt lets out a small chuckle. “whatever you want” he says. “but i can’t believe that’s the first thing you say after we just fucked” matt snorts.

“yeah yeah, whatever, i should’ve said something boring like good-morning matt” you respond rolling your eyes playfully.

matt smiles “good-morning pretty” he whispers. placing a soft kiss onto your lips.

·:*¨༺ ♱ ੈ‧₊˚ ✮ ੈ‧₊˚ ♱ ༻¨*:·

𝜗𝜚 - ps. morning sex 😵‍💫😵‍💫 #need that

also wrote this early in the morning so not proof read, i apologize 😭

𝜗𝜚 - tags : @bells-sturn @sturnxies @iheartmattsbeard @chrislilcumslvt @chrissv4mp @flouvela @anastasia-ac3rr3 @submattenthusiast @s7attr @jassturn @liasturniolo @milaatyourworst @chris-hallelujah @y3sterdaysproblem @jetaimevous @xoxo4chrisss @mattsd0ll @mattslverr @clairomatt @maggot3647 @izzylovesmatt @kennastromboli @allineedismatt @ayesha-eroticaa @allisonclairee @ariana2saucyy @matttsangel @valxrieq @slxtarchive @2prcntmilkluvr @heartz4matt @sturnioloslutttt4 @forgottxen @le4hsblog @sturninsworld @reenasturniolo @sturniolosfr3shl0v3 @snowysosturn @graciesturn @ellie1sawsom3 @muwapsturniolo @mattscoquette @ifwdominicfike @malefantcsy @chrissweetheart @fratboychriswife @nickssidewitch @dominicslover

[livelaughloveluffy]

sweet reverence - roronoa zoro

a/n: oh how i've longed to write something like this for awhile, and it's just been burning a hole into my brain... also sorry for being a bit MIA, i don't know what i did to my back but its fucked and im lowkey in a lot of pain but its kinda getting better 😭💀

a/n: guys i was flustered sooooo bad writing this fic 😭😭😭 and because im insane the jeff buckley i was listening to in the background to write did not help 💀

nothing but smut under the cut 🖤 viewer discretion is advised

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-zoro loves eating you out. and he's damn good at it too. dragging his tongue across your clit at a painfully slow pace, taking note of each little hitch of breath or slight moan you let out.

-the green haired swordsman thinks nothing of his pleasure. actively denying himself from orgasms because he's so focused on you and your experience. he lives and breathes for your validation, to hear your voice screaming out his name in ecstasy. that alone is more than enough for him. even if you're begging to touch him or take care of him, your pleas fall on deaf ears as he draws out your 11th orgasm of the night.

-despite his appearance, zoro is an aftercare king. he loves nothing more than carrying you to the bath, scrubbing your back and hair with such soft grace, whispering praise into your ear.

-don't get me wrong though. he can and will also take extreme pleasure in being a brute. bucking inside of you at a strength and speed that has you gripping the sheets and praying to a god you don't believe in. this is more typical after tense battles, all his pent up worry and stress put towards something much more productive (in zoro's opinion).

-zoro's not afraid to be vocal in bed. dirty talk is second nature to him, to the point that just the sound of his voice causes you to blush. his carnal moans sound like the sweetest of symphonies.

i just can't stop thinking about how roronoa zoro will worship you with sweet reverence...

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tags ♡: @3v37773 @irethepotato @dreamcastgirl99 @acesdiary @lilypadmomentum @thepotatocatto @dindjarins1ut @roronoazoroswife @sparkyvibes @hamhamhamtaro @kcch-ns @suga-tofu @ermbehindyou @beansluvsmilo

a/n: 70% of my writing process is thinking of synonyms for words and the other 30% is just another one of my deep yearning thoughts for fictional men 😭😭

want to join the taglist? click here!!

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[dontbesoweirdkira]

I just imagined if batchild who favored Tim being Bruce bio-child. Damian so jealous and angry because his blood sibling chose Drake over him? This is too personal. Poor Tim will not have peace. I can imagine Damian trying to prove himself to his little sibling.

But the question is, does Damian even really give a flying fuck about this kid? Or does he just hate Tim and wants to destroy any ounce of happiness this boy has? Questions. Questions. Questions. lol.

Idk I love Damian being a little shit,,, he's something a little silly

Yes, Damian will terrorize Tim over this. He has such bad emotional regulation and he doesn't fully understand why he's so angry. He doesn't particularly like children and all their crying and babbling..they're stupid and useless...

But it peeves him so much seeing Tim take on such a prominent older brother role in their life. Tim is tainting the kid, he's not teaching them properly. A child should be held this way, it should be taught this, you need to do this. That is what his mother did to ensure his proper development so it must be right!

I can just imagine Damian cringing at all the baby talk and stupid games Tim plays with them. At first he's such a hate watcher of them. He'll be in the corner of the room, glaring daggers into them. "hmph they're perfect for each other. Dumb and even dumber. Guess which is which..." He snickers in his mind

Then he resorts to insulting Tim and micro-managing him. His baby siblings doesn't need to play with rattles, they need to be doing more intensive activities....Ughh.. They're being so stunned right now.

Then...slowly when no one is watching, he might speak to it. He doesn't get down on the floor with his sibling, he's just looking down at 'em and low-key shit talking. They piss him off so much but still he's at a lost for why?? Why does he seem to care about them and their upbringing so much when he hates them?

It isn't until Tim leaves for a mission or something when Damian *attempts* to hold and play with batchild. The child just looked so pitiful that he felt compelled to entertain them. Batchild starts to unexpectedly grow on him...eventually he starts kind of...loving them...? He feels warm when they smile at him...and an intense passion to protect them...

He's shy about it but Damian is obsessed with that damn baby. He won't try to draw attention to it but that is his baby now.

He can't help but to feel so possessive over them too, he'll cross his arms and huff when someone picks them up...he's stealing them back after five minutess...

But here's where the issue arises, Damian finally is feeling super close with batchild and has created this secret bond that no one else understands. He's done this oath with them in a pillow fort and everything, he's confidently believes that he's the new favorite sibling.

"Okay, Now we will drink this grape juice as we are solidified as true bloods of the Wayne bloodline..."

*intense babbles and clapping*

"Yes, our superior lineage is something to celebrate."

But then Tim comes back and batchild completely forgets about Damian and rushes to Tim. Even refusing to be held by Damian later on. His heart is crushed and to him this is the ultimate betrayal.

If Tim didn't have peace before, he really won't have it now. Like Damian wants to duel over this, it's that serious to him.

The pure venom that Damian spews is so fucked up that I cannot even repeat it. Like Tim is worried for his safety at this point.

Damien would definitely steal batchild out of their crib at night and take them into one of the unused rooms in another wing of the manor. It's fully decorated with tons of things batchild loves, all necessities...even has tons of snacks and a fridge with goodies. Damian is fully prepared to be the sole provider for this baby. lmaoo. He's hiding this kid out there for a good couple of hours before everyone realizes where the two of them are.

Damian is fighting hard to keep from them taking batchild...but is defeated when batchild sees Tim and goes

"Timmy!!" and tries running to him. It's so hilarious. Damian is at his wits end. He's never going to stop though until he's number one. Even if "Timmy" has to go.

Dami is the most un-serious-serious person on the planet.

[tavs-brainworm]

Got something NASTY cooking for my fellow sub!Ascended Astarion enjoyers, and I'm finally far enough into it that I feel comfy posting a preview. There's no telling when it'll be finished but I'm just frothing at the mouth to share it.

More under the cut (~750 words) for those of you who want to read about two deeply pathetic people having terrible sex. Enjoy.

** Quick note: There's nothing too crazy in this preview (just a little blood and orgasm denial), but keep in mind that the full version will come with a very long list of content warnings, including blurry consent and ptsd flashbacks. Unfortunately my Tav is a bad person and subsequently a bad dom. ** Btw Io rhymes with Leo **

Astarion squirms, pushing against her finger and the warm hand on his hip to communicate his frustration, but Io’s touch remains measured and pianissimo and not enough. Her humming ends in a melodic chuckle.

“I’m not neglecting you, am I, love?”

Astarion huffs and drawls sarcastically, “Oh, don’t mind me, darling. You said this would be your pleasure, remember?”

Another laugh and the finger withdraws from him completely. Astarion grinds his teeth to keep a whine from slipping out.

“And everything that is mine is firstly yours, is it not?” She leans over to pour more oil in her hands, rubbing them together to warm it. “I’m yours to command, always. If this isn’t to your liking then, by all means, turn me over and fuck me however it pleases you.”

Astarion’s teeth grind harder as Io gives the tip of his cock a chaste kiss, and her finger returns to its leisurely massaging of his hole. Her offer is… tempting. It was surely meant as a taunt. Astarion knows that Io would, in fact, be more than happy to play pillow princess for the rest of the night if that was what he wanted from her, and, often, it is.

But that’s not what he wants tonight. Astarion can admit to himself that he’s come to crave this kind of attention from her, and it’s been too long since the last time she offered this.

“You would try to trick me into doing all the work, wouldn’t you, you greedy little thing?”

Io grins toothily up at him, and Astarion thinks he might have told the little devil exactly what she wanted to hear. “Don’t you worry, love,” she says, finally, finally, pressing into him for real, and Astarion lets out a sigh of release. “I know what you need.”

Io pumps her finger in and out of him, slowly, not yet going for his spot. She wraps the fingers of her other hand around his cock, pumping him there, too.

Astarion sighs blissfully, sinking further into the sheets. Io’s touch is skilled and confident, but not like his. Fingers trained to draw sound from string, not bodies, and the working of her hands is rhythmic and deliberate, in and out, up and down. A second finger joins her first inside him, the two of them pumping a steady rhythm and just barely teasing the edge of his prostate, feather light pressure that makes Astarion’s breath come hard and his hands clench into fists around their silk sheets.

A bead of precum dribbles out of him and – Gods, he should’ve asked for this sooner, it’s not like Io has ever told him no – she swipes over it with her thumb, adding his slick to the oil before Astarion can think too hard about how worked up he is over so little.

“Beautiful, just beautiful,” she coos, moving up to kiss him on the mouth. The praise and the thick curtains of her hair fall around him like a pleasant haze, and Astarion wraps a hand gently around her throat to keep her close.

At last, Io drags her fingers hard over his spot and Astarion moans unabashedly into her mouth where she devours it, kissing him so hard that fangs gnash into flesh and they taste the mixing of their blood. Io whines, chasing the taste of him, and Astarion’s grip on her throat tightens in tandem with hers on his cock, and, for a moment, it seems things might be nearing their end mournfully soon as Astarion can’t help but to buck his hips up into her grasp and grind down on her fingers caressing the inside of him, over and over and over, his pleasure bubbling up from his throat and from his cock and it’s so good, Io is so, so perfect, so good for him, so-

The hand on his cock stops. Io clamps firmly around the base of him and withdraws her fingers. The moan halfway out of Astarion’s throat ends reedy and high-pitched as his hips buck against the cruel grasp, chasing a climax now hopelessly out of reach. Frustration keeps his grip tight around Io’s throat, but when Astarion opens his eyes, she looks no worse for wear. She stares at him hungrily, licking the blood smeared on her lips.

[leeny-leens]

Cold New Year | bf!T.N. x gf!Reader

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: New Year just started, and you’re already facing a cold struggle. Luckily, your boyfriend is a walking human heater.

Warnings: None, not edited or proofread

Content: established relationship, cuddling, Reader being cold af,there’s no pronouns or descriptions of the reader but Theo uses fem pet names, Italian pet names because thats my Theo staple atp

WC: 568

AN: started writing this earlier while trying to nap in my freezing room and let me tell you that was no fun

New year usually started out full of motivation and ambition for most people, filled with warmth and determination. For you however, this new year started out as everything but filled with warmth.

“It's been like, what? Two days? And your heater is already broken,” your boyfriend said humourously, a faint smirk on his lips. “That is actually comical bella,” from under your fort of blankets and pillows, you didn't bother dignifying him with an answer, definitely not because you were too cold for that. Instead, you grabbed the nearest item that wouldn't compromise your warm nest -a bunny plush he had gifted you a few months ago- and threw it at him. Theodore, that smug little shit, dodged it gracefully with a chuckle as he turned around from where he sat on the ground by your broken heater.

“See, I told ya to move in with me but noooo, someone has to be stubborn,” he stood up and walked to you, arms crossed as he stared at your shivering form underneath the mountain of blankets. He could barley see your eyes from how far you had the blankets pulled over your face, but he just knew that you were glaring at him. He motioned for you to scoot over, which you obliged more or less happily before hissing at the stream of cold air that hit your face when he lifted the covers.

“Are you fucking insane? It's cold!” you exclaimed, desperately curling tighter to try and keep yourself somewhat warm in the cold of your apartment. Your desperation didn't last long however, salvation came to you in the form of Theo’s warm body molding itself right next to you. The moment he layed down, you immediately clung to his side, face buried in his neck as you exhaled gratefully. He was incredibly warm and smelled of clean linen and musk, the combination of soothing warmth and dizzying scent sending your brain into a blanked out state.

“If I move in with you, do I get to have you as human heater whenever I want?” You mumbled against his neck, pressing light kisses to the soft skin. A breathy chuckle escaped his lips at the question and he hummed, the sound deep and tinged with satisfaction.

“Whenever and wherever you want, dolcezza,” he affirmed amused.

“The board will consider your offer then, Mr.Nott,” the response would have been infinitely more serious had you not been shivering and shaking from the cold, teeth clattering against one another as you tried to press yourself closer to Theo in an attempt to soak up his warmth.

His arms wrapped around you in a protective embrace, drawing you closer to his body as his fingers traced patterns on your back.

“There there amore,” he cooed, planting a kiss on the crown of your head “I'll call someone to come fix the heater later yeah?” His heart melted when you sighed against his neck, nodding lightly before murmuring sweet words of love against his skin.

Silence blanketed the room, and despite the gnawing cold that chilled the entire apartment, you and Theo were surrounded by nothing but warmth in the embrace of one another.

Perhaps the heater breaking down wasn’t so bad after all, you thought to yourself, not when it gave you the opportunity to relish the moment with the love of your life.

[puck-luck]

a lesson in control | trevor zegras

warnings: daddy kink. HEAVY daddy kink. m!dom, f!sub dynamics. kneeling, throat training, face-fucking, degradation and praise, use of the word slut (twice? three times?), masturbation, VIDEOING oneself masturbating, sexting but it's one sided, locker room traditions in hockey being slightly misogynistic ("boys will be boys" hey what?), dirty talk, references to squirting, overstim, orgasm denial, face slapping ONE TIME, crawling, exhibitionism, spanking. THERE ARE PROBABLY MORE THINGS THAT I MISSED. SRY. i think i got everything else tho

summary: after breaking one of daddy's rules, tz reminds you who you belong to.

wc: 3862

“Do you think this is fucking funny?” Trevor snaps, crashing through the front door and throwing his gym bag to the side. “Sending me that shit while I’m at the gym with the team?”

He’s not exactly giving you the reaction you expected. You’d sent him that video during his workout on purpose, knowing that it would rile Trevor up and result in the fucking that you have been wanting since he left the house this morning. The thought of him all sweaty and lifting heavy weights, muscles bulging, had you all riled up. It’s only fair that he experienced the same thing– even if it meant you broke one of Trevor’s rules.

There are only three. 

If you misbehave or act bratty, Trevor gets to decide your punishment.

Don’t touch yourself without Trevor’s permission.

When you’re in a scene, you have to call Trevor ‘Daddy.’

So you might’ve broken two of Trevor’s three rules. 

The video had been worth it, though. Seeing his girlfriend spread out on the bed, two fingers buried in her cunt and whimpering for her Daddy? Forget it. You know that Trevor will go back and look at it during roadies, imagining that it’s your hand around his cock instead of his own. He may even memorize it so that he can close his eyes and pretend his hand is your pussy, wet and slick just for him. 

Which, to be fair, it always is. 

Unable to hold back a smirk, you blink up at Trevor from your spot on the couch. “Sorry, Daddy,” you apologize sweetly.

Trevor hasn’t stopped moving since he entered the apartment, so he’s easily able to reach out and wrap his fingers around your neck, squeezing slightly. “You’re sorry,” he repeats sarcastically, voice dripping with doubt. “You’re going to be by the time we’re done.”

His first kiss is harsh and angry. Trevor bites over your bottom lip before he forces his tongue into your mouth, filling the space and effectively gagging you before you can make much noise. Trevor draws you up from the couch and walks as he kisses you, eventually pushing you up against the wall of the living room. 

The thing you like most about the living room is that the wall has a beautiful section of windows that reveal the view. 

The glass also feels incredibly cold against your body, a welcome contrast against Trevor’s impatient hands. He’s tugging your leggings down already, pushing them to the middle of your thighs before he draws your sweatshirt up and removes it completely, leaving your top half entirely bare. Your nipples harden when exposed to the air– which makes them an easy first target for Trevor. 

“Keep stripping,” he commands lowly before grasping your tits in his palms. “I want you naked.”

Eager to comply, you nod. “Yes, Daddy,” you say breathlessly. 

He manages to keep a hold on your breasts as you move around, shedding your leggings and panties as quickly as you can. Trevor pinches your nipples hard. “You’ve been bad,” Trevor tells you. “What happens when you’re bad?”

“You punish me,” you reply. 

“That’s right,” Trevor says, a proud smile tugging at his lips. The smile doesn’t reach his eyes, but it’s clear that he’s plotting something already and enjoying the visual in his mind. “Bad girls get punished. Who gets to decide the punishment, sweetheart?”

“You do,” you say. There’s a slight pause before you can muster up his title in a tone that reflects what he called you– sweetly adding, “Daddy.”

“Smart girl,” Trevor praises before planting a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. He reluctantly takes his hands from your chest and brings them to his sides. He takes a step back. His eyes turn almost mournful, pitying you. “Smart, but bad. Daddy has to teach you a lesson, huh?”

You nod, keeping your hands at your own sides even though you itch to cover yourself up. You’re fully exposed and Trevor is completely clothed. Humiliation creeps up your neck like a blush. That feeling has yet to go away, even though Trevor has been domming you all throughout your relationship.

Trevor smirks again, his face contorting. It’s fascinating how Trevor can jump from emotion to emotion. He settles into his role seamlessly every single time, using his tone and inflections and expressions to manipulate you and remind you why he’s the one in charge. He tilts his chin up, quirking his eyebrows. “On your knees.”

You drop down, the hardwood floor digging into your knees uncomfortably. “How long?” you ask. Normally, Trevor gives you a timeframe. It keeps you grounded. 

The smirk on Trevor’s face grows. “As long as I want.” He holds a finger to his lips, a reminder that you aren’t supposed to talk to him when you’re on your knees. You’re something pretty for him to look at when you’re on your knees. It’s one of the ways that Trevor asserts his dominance over you. His evaluating gaze always makes you shiver.

Today, though, Trevor leaves the room. You can hear the shower start, then you hear Trevor step inside. Occasionally, you catch snippets of his hums and the song he’s singing. Since you can’t hear him all the time, you can’t estimate how long you’ve been kneeling. Your knees have been aching from the second you dropped down, so there’s no gradual pain to use as a timer either. 

Just to spite you, Trevor makes sure his shower runs long, too. He’s sure to tell you that when he returns.

“Sorry, baby,” Trevor says, ruffling his damp hair before collapsing on the couch and spreading his knees wide. Your eyes fall to his bulge, half-hard and covered by, but clearly unrestrained within, his Boston University sweatpants. He bounces one of his knees, the fabric covering his groin shifting with the movement. “Lost track of time in the shower. You know something about touching yourself, don’t you? It can be very distracting.”

Your eyes are wide when they snap to his face. Trevor looks smug. He throws his arms over the back of the couch and cocks his head at you, as if he’s catching you in the act of checking him out… as if you’d be embarrassed by something like that. Humiliation might raise the hairs on the back of your neck, but you never feel ashamed or sheepish when Trevor catches you looking at him. He’s sexy.

“You were very pretty in that video, baby,” Trevor says at a normal volume, as if you’re having a nonchalant conversation.”Really. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

This is the reaction you were looking for when he came in– the slow, methodical domination that Trevor normally defaults to instead of the angry, reactive domination that appeared when he stormed through the front door. You want to shift to relieve your knees slightly, but Trevor will only add something else to your punishment if you do. You merely blink at him, a breath leaving you through your parted lips.

Trevor brings a hand to his mouth and rubs over his lips, sighing. “But… well, you know what happens when one of the boys gets a text from his girlfriend during a workout.”

You do. That was part of the motivation. Trevor doesn’t like to share, but he likes to brag. There’s a very delicate balance there and you knew what you had to do to make Trevor angry. If one of Trevor’s teammates sees that another teammates’ partner texted them, then the original teammate is allowed to look at that text.

“So imagine my surprise when I open my phone and McTavish sees my baby coming all over her fingers, asking for her Daddy.” Trevor sneers when he says Mason’s name, even though you know he’s glad it wasn’t another teammate, one that doesn’t already know about your sex life. 

A question arises in the back of your throat. It’s a heavy lump, hard to swallow, yet… you’re not allowed to speak like this.

Trevor becomes even more smug as he watches you remember that fact. It’s not really an official rule, but Trevor prefers it, and you want to be good for him. He’s pleased when you snap your lips shut and blink at him. “Don’t worry, little one. He couldn’t hear you. I had my headphones in. Good thing, too– I wouldn’t want anyone to hear how pretty you sound when you need Daddy.”

Your breath catches in your throat, but not because of the lump that rose up only moments ago. That disappeared when Trevor answered your question without even trying, like he can read your mind. No, your breath catches because he answered your question in the sexiest way possible.

God, you love when Trevor becomes Daddy.

Trevor tilts his head down, his gaze dark and prodding. It washes over you like an actual touch from your boyfriend. “You’re not allowed to touch yourself without asking me,” Trevor says. His voice becomes more and more like a simper as he continues to speak. “But you couldn’t wait for me, huh? Couldn’t even take the time to ask before you got all wet and needed to be full? What had you so worked up?” 

Sweat, arm veins, a natural musk, endorphins…

“Did you have a dream about my cock? I know you’d said you were sleepy before I went to the gym and that you’d try to take a nap while I’m gone.” Trevor nods to himself. “That must have been it. You woke up all empty after being so full. Poor girl just needs her Daddy.”

Hearing Trevor talk in the third person has you clenching down on nothing, suddenly feeling very empty. That’s not what actually had you worked up, but now… maybe Trevor’s right. It would drive you crazy to be so empty after experiencing Trevor’s cock. To have his length stuffed inside of you, filling you out, and then nothing? Oh, you’d die.

“Let me give you my cock, then,” Trevor says. He spreads his legs just an inch wider and beckons you with a curled finger. “C’mere, baby.”

Your knees feel ready to creak as you move to stand. You get one knee up before Trevor starts to shake his head and you freeze.

He holds his palm up flat, stopping you before you can stand. Trevor snickers. “Nuh-uh, I don’t think so,” he corrects, chuckling. “Do bad girls get to walk to Daddy? Stay on your knees.”

You blink up at him, cheeks growing warm at the thought of crawling to him. It’s so demeaning, but God it’s hot. You’d be kneeling right between his thighs at the end and you know what comes from that position.

Something Trevor started when you were just starting this dom/sub thing was throat training. Trevor knew you liked to have his hand around your neck, causing you to go short of breath. He applied the same logic and asked if you’d like to hold his cock in your mouth for a long time. You’d tried it, and it was fine, and it sparked a second idea. Trevor wanted your throat to hold him perfectly, for your mouth to be ready for him to take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Now, he can fuck your face whenever he wants.

He can take whatever he wants.

You lower yourself down again, back onto two knees. Then, you lean forward, one hand a bit further than the other. You shift the opposite knee forward in a hesitant step, eyes rapt on Trevor. 

“That’s my girl,” Trevor coos, his stare raking over your figure. “Come get Daddy’s cock. I’ll fill you up.”

Another step, then a third. You’re moving to Trevor like he’s reeling you in, the tension taut as fishing line between your bodies. 

Trevor’s quick to drag himself out of his sweatpants. Your mouth is already open, accepting  whatever he gives you with a slack jaw. He fills you until his tip bumps the back of your esophagus, then he withdraws. 

You breathe through your nose and gag at all the right times, feeling the precum from Trevor’s cock mix with your saliva and drip down your throat with each swallow.

Trevor uses you for what he needs. He draws your head up and down on his cock, his hips occasionally twitching and thrusting like they have a mind of their own. “You know what’s– shit– you know what’s funny, baby?” Trevor asks, clearly affected by your touch and itching to regain control.

You hum around his cock, eyes drifting to his face. They’re shining with tears from all of your gagging around his base and Trevor curses again.

“Fuck, so pretty,” he says, taking the hand still thrown over the back of the couch and using his fingers to wipe away the tracks on your cheeks. “You’re so good at taking my cock, sweetheart. Making me feel so good.”

The hand on the back of your head grips your hair and rips you from his cock. 

You’re nearly eye to eye with Trevor, whose mirthful smile means trouble. 

“I’m going to come in your pussy.” Trevor’s voice is a near whisper. “And you won’t come at all.”

“What?” You demand with a jolt, caught off guard by his statement and forgetting your manners. 

Trevor’s hand strikes your cheek, branding your skin with the heated echo of his touch.

You’re stunned silent, jaw dropped and mouth open. 

Trevor caresses the hollow pocket of surprise on your face with his thumb. Trevor smiles down at you. “Daddy wants you to be quiet when you’re on your knees, baby, don’t you remember?”

You stare blankly at him. 

He continues to pet over your face, admiring your glossy eyes and rosy cheeks. His eyes even roam to your hair, a flicker of pride passing through his expression. He fixes a piece of hair, then taps your head. He quotes the short list of rules by which you abide. “Don’t touch yourself without my permission.”

You breathe in, preparing for him to continue. He taps your cheek and waits for you to nod. You do, after a moment. 

Trevor guides your head back down, towards his cock. “Then what?” He asks.

You open your mouth a little wider, spit pooling at the thought of licking up the precum that leaked from his cock while you were recovering from his slap. 

Trevor laughs, bringing your head to his tip and making the length jump between your lips. “If you misbehave or act bratty, Daddy gets to decide your punishment.” He brings your mouth down a little further, cock sliding against the flat of your tongue. 

The taste makes you feel like you’ve gone cross-eyed, relaxing into his touch. Sliding back into the throat training routine you’d created over the months, your head grows a little fuzzier and your body feels a little lighter.

Trevor pulls away again.

You don’t snap at him, but your eyes fall into sharp focus on his face. 

“Who am I, baby?” Trevor asks, winking at you. His mouth forms a proud curve.

“Daddy,” you reply, voice ruined from disuse. 

Trevor likes that. You can see how his jaw subtly twitches, tensing up. “Are you gonna let Daddy fuck your pussy right here?” He asks, then his eyes go over your shoulder. “For anyone to see?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you breathe out, sounding rough and awed at the same time. “Please, Daddy. Fuck me against the window.”

The smile that encompasses Trevor is purely rueful pride. How easily he can ruin you. “Because you want the world to see that you’re Daddy’s,” Trevor assumes, feeding you the words like they’re fact. 

You sear them into your memory. He’s right. Who else can do something like this to you? To you, what Trevor says is gospel.

“That’s why you sent that video,” he continues. He’s all-knowing. Smug, even. “You needed Daddy to remind you that you’re his little slut, right?”

All this nodding has you feeling like a bobblehead.

Trevor helps you stand, touching your hips and backing you towards the window. At the last second, he spins you around and presses your front against the glass.

“For everyone to see?” Trevor checks again, his voice soft for a second. God, he’s perfect. He’s the right amount of concerned, without leaving much room for argument. He’s still in charge here. He’s still punishing you.

You don’t even get to come, but you don’t care. You just want to feel him leaking from your cunt. Instead of kneeling again, you’ll stay like this if he wants you to, presented like an art exhibit for him to study.

You moan in relief as soon as his tip breaches your hole, bare and throbbing as he inches forward. He allows himself to thrust shallowly, stimulating his tip and denying you the full pleasure of his cock. 

Even still, you’re a mess.

Then he brings his hand down on your ass cheek, much harder than he’d slapped your face. Instinctively, you clench around him and your head droops. The glass window cools the skin of your forehead.

You’re not silent by any means. It’s like you’re unable to silence yourself– a broken dam. With each shallow thrust and each slap to your behind, Trevor makes you feel so good that you feel like you’re crumbling into dust.

“You gonna take my whole cock like you wanted to?” Trevor probes, kicking your legs a bit wider and pressing you into the glass. Your nipples are squished against the surface, restricting your movements. Trevor crowds against you, body warm and solid behind you. “Like you tried to pretend in that little video? When you whimpered and cried because your little fingers weren’t a match for my cock?”

“Daddy,” you whimper, a mirror image of yourself just hours earlier. You’re humming out the same soft pleas that spur Trevor on, that convince him to chase his pleasure.

“That’s right, baby,” Trevor praises. “Daddy’s cock, making you feel good, just like you wanted?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes…”

Trevor spanks you again, the burning sensation of impact marking your body. “Why do you ever act up, sweetheart? I could’ve been fucking you like this all nice and making you come if you’d just asked me for permission,” Trevor simpers, teasing you. He speaks like it’s a big, heavy burden on him, this choice to deny your orgasm. He wants to give you an orgasm– a mind shattering, leg-numbing, shaking and squirting orgasm– but you just had to be bad. 

“Of course I’d make you ask again,” Trevor continues, his half-thrusts pointed. “You’d have to show me again how good you can be. You know I like to see my good girl.”

A strangled noise falls from your lips, landing on the floor like a bowling ball. Trevor knocks the wind out of you sometimes with his words.

“I want to show you what it would be like,” Trevor says. “Ask me, baby. I want to hear your sweet voice beg Daddy to come.”

Finding your voice and losing control of it like a helium balloon, you’re able to gasp out exactly what Trevor asks, thinking maybe, maybe if you’re good enough now, he’ll let you come now, too. “It’s so good, Daddy, I always need your cock,” you say between moans. “I never stop thinking about it. So good, please, Daddy. I need to come, I need to show you how good I feel, please let me come.”

Trevor moans and nudges his nose against the top of your spine as you speak. His seed flows from his body and fills yours in the midst of your testimony, the low and fucked-out grunts from Trevor making you that much more desperate and teary to come. His cum settles inside of you, warm and as good as godly nectar, in your mind. 

“I’d come, just like that,” Trevor tells you, speaking slowly. His voice is gravely like it is when he first wakes up. He presses kiss after kiss to your spine, working lower and slightly withdrawing from your heat. “And then I’d tell you that you can come…”

Just when you think he’s going to shift back into you, his length sheathed inside of you so much that your pussy brushes against his pelvis, and fuck you until you do exactly that–

Trevor’s softening penis leaves your pussy. He shifts his hips even further back, then touches your sides to spin you back around. He faces you and brings his hands up to cradle your face. With a devilish, con-man-like smile, Trevor stands his ground. “This is mine,” he reminds you. His blunt fingertips collect some of the cum that has started to slide down your thighs, unable to escape gravity. Trevor lifts his fingers to your mouth, the wet slick brushing against your lips. He makes no move to push past your teeth and press down on your tongue. He’s just dangling a carrot in front of your face, further reinforcing his control over you. 

“Yours,” you agree.

A grin plays over Trevor’s face. “Good. You just broke the rules to get Daddy’s attention. You needed Daddy to take care of you.”

You helplessly nod, preening under his touch.

“You’ve got my attention now, baby,” Trevor assures you. “And to prove it to you, we’re going to do one last thing. I’m going to sit on the couch and look at you, pretty girl. You’re going to kneel right here and let the cum drip out of you until you’re empty.”

You blink at him, feeling lightheaded. That’s before he paints his cum over your lips and ponders, “Kneeling in a puddle of my cum, you really are a slut.” 

A gush of his seed seems to leave you at the demeaning nickname. You clench again to keep it inside– what Daddy wants, Daddy gets. It can pool beneath you as your knees dig into the floorboards and bruise.

“Daddy’s little cumslut,” Trevor says with a chuckle. He shakes his head and backs away from you, returning to the couch and manspreading. He pushes his sweats all the way down to mid-calf, revealing his thick thighs and pretty cock entirely. “I should put that on a shirt and have you record that video again for me.” He wraps his hand around his soft cock, fisting it like he’s going to start pumping over the skin at any moment. “With your hard nipples poking through the fabric and those pretty words of yours, begging for your Daddy to satisfy you the way that you need.”

You drop to your knees and clasp your hands behind your back, hovering only slightly above the floor and only parting your lips to breathe. After all, you’re on your knees again, so you have to listen to Daddy speak.

“Or on FaceTime for our next roadie,” Trevor decides, evidenced by the way his cheeks dimple. “Yeah, baby, we’ll see how desperate you can get before I let you come. This time, you’re going to be so good that I make you come until the sheets are completely soaked.”

[volturissideslut]

𝕮𝖆𝖎𝖚𝖘 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

I actually really enjoyed making the nsfw alphabet for Marcus in my last request (Here), so here's Caius too and i'll be doing one for Aro later

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

While Caius is still attentive after sex, it really depends on how it went down. If it was a frustration fuck then he's giving you a long kiss in thanks and making sure you're okay, probably drawing a shared bath and finding a 'snack' to share. But if it was a quickie then he'll quickly pat your hair back down and make sure you look presentable again with a quick kiss and he's off.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Caius loves his own torso. This goes from his shoulders and chest, down to his lower abdomen. He's an artist at heart and something about the way your hand looks pushing on his torso while you ride him is picturesque. And that leads me to his favourite feature on you: your hands. He loves them so much, your hands are his obsession. From kissing the back of them, to watching them wrapper around his cock. From your nails digging into his neck, to you playing gently with his hair.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

When Caius cums there isn't much of it, but it's thick and a pearlescent white. He loves cumming in you plain and simple. Theres just something about the fact that part of him is in you that gets to him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He really really really wants you to secretly cockwarm him in court. Just sit there with him fully sheathed inside of you and have nobody any the wiser. To claim you as his in from of these fools and have them be so beneath him they don't even know. It's a power move. And insanely fucking hot.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before he met you Caius was a little bit of a manwhore in my professional opinion, and so i think that he has plenty of experience in bed. Of course none of that compares to you in his eyes, but his past... encounters... with humans and vampires alike all still happened.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl!!! Enough said. The knowledge that he is in total control and still gets to make you do all the work is a bonus, but it's really about the fact he gets to watch you - oh so jaw dropping you - have your way with him. He get's to watch all your little reactions when you change the tempo, or how wide eyed and flustered you get when he unexpectedly bucks his hips up.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Nah, I can see him finding the moment relatively serious. Maybe not so much if you're having a giggly and fun little day but this grumpy bum has appearances to keep up. At least, thats what you'll say if anyone ever asks. Because in reality giggly soft sex makes his heart go all ooey gooey and soft. He could pepper your face with kisses and make bad jokes in bed all day, but shhh thats for your ears only.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's a well groomed man, not much else to say about that. He'd also prefer if you were too, but he is not afraid in the slightest to get his hands dirty and face the bush

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Again it depends on of he's in one of his many mood swings. He can be, especially of you hint at it. He'll beckon to your will any day. But he probably won't think to set it up all romantically unless it's near a special date for the two of you. And no, he doesn't care that the years all blurr together when you live for eternity. He'll celebrate an anniversary every year over the millennia's if it gives him an excuse to spoil you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As i previously said, Caius was a manwhore back in the day. I think this cheeky fucker has a high sex drive, and so it really depends on you. If you match his high drive then no, because he's too busy giving you the night of your life instead. But if your sex drive is on the lower side he'll have some alone time happily.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BONDAGE AND WAXPLAY does this even need explaining? I can't decide if this kinky fucker is more of a masochist or sadist to be completely honest with you... Might also let you peg him

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

His throne. It's such a rush to him to have you there on the symbol of his power and leaving him powerless with the way you're fucking him. Moreover, having you whimpering and begging for him feels like pure adrenaline going through his vains, as if he's gorging himself on blood and getting blood-high or something

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any form of you initiating really, he's always ready to head back to his chamber and get freaky. Once you wore lingerie and smeared yourself in blood so he could lick it off you and he's never been more excited in his life.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Somebody else seeing you in a vulnerable state. Caius is incredibly possessive but he's even more protective. It's all fun and games playing it risky in the throne room until someone actually walks in and he tears their throat out. Could have this all have been avoided if you just did it in a secure location? Yes. Will he still rip off the head of whoever walks in? Also yes.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I feel like he much prefers to give oral and instead of receiving oral he likes to receive handjobs. Please stroke his cock painstakingly slow with a fresh set of sharp nails on you, he mighty combust or, y'know, bust.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Hard and rough, it's sloppy toppy and animalistic. It's hedonistic fucking until you feel so good it's like you've ascended. And yes, he can switch to something more passionate and gentle and often will on anniversaries or if the mood presents itself, but dirty fucking is is fave

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He loves them, and they happen all the time. A quickie before his next trial? Yes please. A quickie before his next meeting with Aro and Marcus? It would be wrong to refuse. A quickie before he heads out to battle? It'll help him think straight. You get the gist

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's all game, ready to risk it all for a good time with you. Well, almost anything. You tried temperature play once but now that's banned because vampires and fire don't exactly mix well together. But don't get me wrong, he would totally walk through fire for that pussy, but he once again had that protective side of him flare up and you are now banner from being within 3 metres of open flames.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Is this even a question? He'd spend the rest of his eternity fucking you with little breaks to feed or paint if he could. Actually, maybe he should bring that up in his next meeting... nah, he enjoys ruling and the feel of power too much. Though he would appreciate some more free time for some quality time. In all honesty, he's just a horny bastard.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yeah, it's not like he's got a collection or anything but he definitely has his fare share for you to use on him or his to use on you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Caius is such a massive tease. If Marcus is the advocate for overstim then Caius is the advocate for edging. Theres something that really ignites in him when you're begging him to just let you cum already

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a grunter. Booo! But wait, don't throw your tomatoes yet. If you just tell him that you think the sound of him moaning is incredibly attractive and sexy he'll make it a point to be vocal for you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes when you get all dressed up and dolled up for him. Like a lot. Is willing to spend half the budget on nails, shoes, dresses, and lingerie for you because... wow

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Baby, Sweetie, Darling, oh, sweet child of mine. Good luck

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Even through vampires can't sleep, he feels so relaxed afterward. It's a 50/50 shot really, either he want's to be babied and needs affection or is pumped up enough to go slaughter a whole village

[miscellaneoustofu]

Basketball bad boys, anyone?

Yeah, so these are my Kirisaki Daiichi redesigns. The uncrowned kings and their respective squads have all the fun potential and I intend to use it.

Kirisaki Daiichi and Hanamiya being the most slept on team for character design of them all because you can’t make a canonical “bad boy” team and not have them be emo, goth, and punk for the funsies. For the visual “pen egg chest qua” (je ne sais quoi). For the fun, stereotypical edgelord flair we all deserve to indulge in every now and then.

Makoto’s og design simply didn’t scream spider enough for me and I was tired of so many key characters having this longish, same shade of black hair (him, Himuro, Mibuchi, etc). Like, I know giving the black and brown a colored tint can subtract from the uniqueness of the GOM, but not even a little? So, yeah, fuck allat, I’m using desaturated colors every now and then.

I also loved drawing Makoto in some casual clothes and much needed drip. Villains are required to serve most. I wanted to draw the rest of them in some casual outfits because trust Kojiro and honestly all of them dress immaculately but life and time restraints. Maybe later.

Story wise, each player and Makoto maybe have their own reasons for turning to hurting others through basketball and I hope you catch some of the story threads I threw in. Whether or not they deserve or have the capacity to change is entirely up to you all with Makoto having the most potential to be entirely complex or cartoonishly evil (I like both). I’m a sucker for a bit of character complexity and things that leave room for interpretation.

Sometimes knb can be very black and white in its themes…

Well, let me know what you all think! Thank you, for everyone’s kind words and support. See ya!

[reivelmin]

I fucking hate my internet messing shit up and I can't see if my ask if it was sent successfully cause it's an ask so I'm gonna make a goddam post for this shit.

@ventismacchiato

Ok so, you've mentioned trouble in my replying to my asks before so I'm gonna do it a different way(I'm desperate to give my fanart plsplsplspls)

REMINDER THIS IS MY DEPICTION OF Y/N IN SWY, ANYONE CAN DEPICT THE WAY THEY LOOK ANYWAY THEY WANT.

The first one is Male!Y/N(So close to redesigning them SO bad cause I am genuinely tweaking), it's a quick art so it's nothing too good. Next one is Fem!Y/N with colors cause this was the time I had motivation 🥰 the last two is based on one of your other asks where you mentioned a scenario of Y/N having pink hair, it's Fem cause I drew it with the other one😔

I'll prob take a while in making another piece cause I gotta redesign my Male!Y/N to a design I actually like so I can have the motivation to draw him more😔

[pinetreeshack]

oh my god. wow. absolutely magnificent

[lotus-pear]

i love you royal trio (minus akechi)

[astronnova]

doodles (as i avoid work) of the super awesome you wouldn't like me alive fic by @ectoplasmranch which i binge read in a 7 hour sitting yesterday

[puppppppppy]

littlest furth shop

@laikascomet

[formulanni]

Diva alert

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls