Floundering in Fandoms

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

Clive makes it his personal mission to make you as comfortable as possible both during and after sex. His arms become your own personal cocoon, kissing your forehead as he cradles you closer. “I didn’t hurt you did I?” Clive asks, checking over you once, twice, before you have to stop him with a hand to his chest. “I’m fine, really, you didn’t do anything that I wasn’t actively encouraging.” You lay a kiss to the hand resting on your cheek, enjoying the smile that blooms on his face. “Are you sure?” He studies your nude body concerned, lightly rubbing the indents where his hands gripped you. You nod. “I’m sure. Now come, lay with me.”

“As you wish.” He answers, moving to hold you close.

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

It might sound cheesy but he genuinely enjoys watching you smile, it brightens his day like nothing else. For him, it’s his arms, because you get so giddy when he lifts you for a hug, legs dangling in the air. The two of you are walking side by side through a meadow, a rare day of peace where Clive can simply enjoy being in the moment with you. You had insisted on a break, and now that he’s here he feels a sense of calm wash over him. Your stumbling form brings him out of his head, moving quickly to catch you before you fall. “Are you alright?” You both look down, a huff of annoyance escaping you. “Just tripped over some rocks, I’ll be fine.” A closer look and the road ahead is a bit uneven. He couldn’t risk you falling and hurting yourself, so his next course of action was obvious.

Within seconds you find yourself lifted bridal-style in his arms, holding onto his tunic in shock. “What—Clive?” Your legs dangle in the air, secured by strong arms beneath you. You look at him, waiting. His tone is genuine, but the pleased smirk he wears tells another tale. “I can’t have my lady walking in such dangerous conditions, what kind of man would I be?” You raise an eyebrow in knowing, aware that he just wanted an excuse to hold you. “You could’ve just asked me, you know.” He nods in agreement. “Yes, I could have. But this is more fun.”

You feel yourself laugh in his arms as he walks, an ever-present smile on his face.

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

He loves the sight of his cum dripping from you, but equally hates the smug look Tarja gives him when he asks for some medicine the day after. He’ll settle for finishing on your stomach to save himself the embarrassment but if you want to watch every thought exit his brain ask him to come inside you, he’ll never say no.

“My love,” he grunts, the scruff of his beard tickling your neck. He’s pushed himself as far as he can go, unwilling to separate for a second. “Tell me to stop, please—“

His movements are uncoordinated, single-minded in their attempt to bring you pleasure. You can barely hear him past the sound of your own moans, but your legs bring him closer either way. “Don’t, stay, please—“

Something snaps in his brain, his thrusts move even faster, a hand on your hip to keep you steady as his hips cant deliciously into yours. “Founder help me, you feel so good, fuck—!”

He cries your name as he stumbles off the edge, a violent shudder moving through his body. When he finally gathers himself he looks down at you through lidded eyes, a dopey grin stretched across your face.

“A smile like that means I must have done well.” He breathes, shallow and ragged. He watches his seed spill from you captivated, a single finger moving to spread you apart and watch more of him drip from you.

Tarja be damned, this was worth it.

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

Wants to be submissive to you, wants to just lay back and take whatever you have to give, but the poor boy doesn’t know how to express it. It might have to take some detective work from you, but if you ever figure it out he’s putty in your hands.

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

He had no previous lovers besides you, but he isn’t totally oblivious, trust me when I say he’s eager to learn.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Good ol’ missionary, also enjoys doggystyle. Something about the sound of you screaming his name into the pillow drives him wild.

Muffled noises leave your lips, a beautiful song of his name harmonizing perfectly with the sound of his hips meeting yours. You’re pressed perfectly beneath him, arched just the way he likes it, a hand running down your back appreciatively.

He finds himself grinning at another whine of his name, fully draping himself over you. His lips meet your ear as the force of his thrusts increases, legs shaking in an attempt to keep up with his brutal pace.

“Just like that my love, you’re doing so well.”

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

To him, having sex is his way of showing his love for you, and he’s very serious about that. He’ll crack a smile or two, but if you joke around too much he’ll probably look at you confused before starting again, making sure that this time you’re too preoccupied to try.

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

He does keep himself trimmed regularly, a habit from his days as a former royal. 

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

Having sex with Clive is a declaration of his love to you, every action speaks to you in a profound way that extends beyond just pleasure. There's something so affectionate about being with Clive, every action fulfilling a need you were never aware of. His touch, a declaration of his love, his words devout.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Moderate sex drive, doesn’t really jerk off and if the urge does rise, he’d rather just go to you. On the off-chance he does partake it’s very quick, driving himself to pleasure as fast as possible with a hand on his mouth to silence himself.

You had left early in the morning while he was still asleep and when he woke up he found himself missing you, which then evolved into him missing your body, how soft it was under his hands, how it moved for him as he explored it. Further and further did his imagination take him under his fingers squeezed at his hardening cock, a sigh leaving him as he freed himself from his nightwear. 

He wanted to take his time but the thought of you made him frantic, hand moving faster and faster against his length. Just when he felt that blinding sensation build up in his core the door opened abruptly, the shock causing him to halt in fear before he realized it was you who walked in.

A look of shock, then of lust passed through your face. “Of all the things I expected to find, this was not on the list.”

Clive moves to apologize, reaching for a blanket to cover himself before he’s stopped by your hands at his wrist. 

You eye him up and down, pulling the blanket further away as you sit at his side, lips kissing softly at his neck. He’s confused, hesitant to move from his spot.

“My love?” He asks, looking up and down at you. His cock is still throbbing with need, even more so now that you’re touching him, breath hitched when your fingers trace against his length.

You whisper into his skin, breathy. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here before, but I’m here now. Let me take care of you.”

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink - He’s always complimenting you one way or another, whether that’s on the battlefield or in the bedroom.

Body Worship - Truly believes you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and he makes you feel like it too. If you’re insecure about anything, he’s going to make it his personal goal to show you how perfect you are.

Frottage - Sometimes the two of you are so eager that you can’t be bothered to take your clothes off. At times like this he’s content to watch you fall apart on his lap, only to have his hips stutter when your fingers press against his clothed erection. 

Size Difference - He can’t help the pride that swells in him when you can’t reach something and have to ask him for help, it makes him feel needed. He also can’t help how his dick throbs when you struggle to take it, the smallest little bump forming against your stomach when he pushes all the way in.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, or if you’re on the road, a local inn. He prefers sex to be somewhere neither of you can be bothered.

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

Spending time with you, holding you close. It’s not unsurprising to have a hand “innocently” rest under your clothes and if anything else were to happen, well, that’s just a happy accident.

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

Anything pain-related, or anything that can draw blood. He doesn’t want to hurt you, so any and all weapons are off the table.

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

Has a preference for receiving rather than giving, only because the sight of you with his cock in your mouth makes him weak in the knees.

His hands are bundled in the sheets, hunched over, trying his best to control his hips. Your mouth laps at the head of his cock, and when you look up at him doe-eyed he nearly comes right then and there.

You love him when he’s like this, such a strong man reduced to his base form, struggling to contain himself under waves of euphoria. When you lift your mouth away he begs for you to return, only to silence himself when you put his hand in your hair.

“Go on,” you goad, licking a stripe against his length. You don’t miss how his fingers tighten in your locks. 

Your only warning is a groan of your name before he forces you to take every inch he has to give, a sinful grin curling at his lips when he feels you gag.

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

Slow, purposefully strokes, enjoys taking his time with you. Might treat you a bit rougher if he’s had a bad day, but he’ll apologize after and give you the best aftercare the world has ever seen.

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

If he’s short on time, sure, but he much prefers to take his time with you.

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

Like before, he isn’t experienced so any risks being taken would most likely be proposed by you. He’s up for trying anything once, so long as it isn’t dangerous.

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

Former Shield of Rosaria, as well as the Dominant of Ifrit? You’d be lucky if he breaks a sweat.

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

He probably wouldn’t think about them until you showed him one, all of a sudden a new world has been unlocked to him. This goes back to the dirty secret bit, but he’s also played around with the idea of you using them on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Likes to tease you, but can never commit to it because the moment you beg him to keep going he’s quick to give you whatever he wants.

He has you encased in his arms, back pressed against his front as his fingers move across your aching sex, so close and yet so far from what you need. 

He laughs at your frustration, keeping your legs held open with one hand while the other makes feather light touches against your exposed folds. He’s enjoying himself, but you’re fit to burst. 

“You look beautiful like this, a pleasure for my eyes only.” He whispers into your ear.

Even when he’s teasing you he’s a romantic, even if you’re ready to cry in dismay.

“Clive, I’m begging you—“ You reach a hand to his wrist, pressing his hand further to touch your clit. “Touch me, please.”

He looks down at your glassy eyes, and his heart tugs at the sight of you so desperate. He obliges without a second thought, enjoying the sound of your moans bouncing off the walls.

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

Not a moaner, but a chatter. Likes to tell you exactly what you do to him as he fucks you.

“Founder, I could spend the rest of my days like this—“

A sharp thrust leaves you keening, a jumbled mess of what would be his name leaving your lips. The sound of his cock entering you is obscene, only made worse by your own voice crying out for him.

“—you, ah, you want that, right? Want me buried inside you until you can’t stand—“

He can barely finish a sentence without moaning, too far gone in the feeling of your wetness clenching around him. You don’t reply, but your body tells all, your back arching off the sheets.

“Ah, I knew you would,“ He hits that spot inside that has you seeing stars, and before you could scream he swallows whatever sound you make with his mouth against yours, sloppy and unrefined. 

When he’s satisfied, he pulls away to admire your supple body laid bare before him. With a growl, he continues. “Don’t worry, I want that too.”

He doesn’t stop moving, not for a second. 

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

Likes to use Ifrit’s flames to keep you warm in the cold winter nights. It’s also an excuse to keep you close.

Even as you sit in front of the fireplace a chill is settling deep into your bones. After the third shudder you find yourself lifted into the air by a familiar pair of arms, enveloping you in a warmth that causes you to relax instantly.

“You didn’t have to Clive,” you murmur, moving closer into him. “The fireplace would have gotten me warm soon enough.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Would that have been before or after you turned into a block of ice?”

You smile at the joke, relaxing even further when he presses a kiss into your hair. He places you on the bed, quickly maneuvering himself behind you as a blanket of heat spreads across you.

“Sleep well, my dear. I’ll keep you warm instead.”

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

6 inches, very girthy, needs to work you up a bit before getting anything done, but once you’re nice and prepared you feel so full.

No matter how many times you’ve had sex, Clive always marvels at how tight you are, how small you look beneath him or how wide your eyes get when he rests himself at your entrance. 

The first time you had sex you had told him unsure, “I don’t think it’ll fit.” 

He proved you very wrong that night, as he did every night since. Even now, as your eyes roll back at the delicious stretch he provides, he’ll prove you wrong once more.

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

Moderate, he's always thinking about you and making sure you're comfortable.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)