26 letters of the alphabet, 26 different kinks, 26 different pairings. 1 Voyeuristic Game Master and his pet.

Each of these stories is self-contained and can be read individually, but together they chronicle Kris Allen's sexual and romantic adventures throughout his four years at college. So you can read the stories in the order they're intended (particularly if you don't want to be spoiled), but you can also take your chances and click on anything, read it a row at a time, or just read the pairings or kinks you're interested in. Whatever's your preference!

The not so epic romance of Dorian Pavus of the illustrious House Pavus and Hissrad-- more commonly known as The Iron Bull-- of the Ben-Hassrath.

They'd never talked about sex in the year they'd known each other. Well, that wasn't quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

"Fifty for an hour," Steve tells her. "Sixty for my mouth." Steve sells the only thing he’s got left and Natasha's buying. She’s not the only one.

It’s just…does Viktor not get bored with doing it the same way every night? Doesn’t he want to spice things up? Is Yuuri being unreasonable? He’s pretty sure that if Viktor told him his performance in bed was unsatisfying his soul would flee his body for a more merciful plane of existence, but…Viktor is thicker-skinned than he is. And so here they are. Viktor’s bed is wide and soft, and Yuuri is lying there with wet hair and ratty boxers while Viktor absently trails kisses over his shoulder. It’s nice. It’s soft. It’s good. Viktor’s headboard is enormous and Yuuri keeps thinking about Viktor’s wrists bound to it, black rope over white skin. Fuck. He should say something.

Things Eddie Brock flirts with on a regular basis: death, insanity, his ex, his ex’s new boyfriend, and also the alien symbiote that lives inside his body. Not bad for a loser with no game, really.

"So it turns out that forming Voltron is a lot harder to accomplish when you’re not all about to die." Or where Lance engages in some dick centered problem solving. He and Keith struggle to form the oneness of mind they need for Voltron, so they try to work it out between themselves.

You can find some interesting things in those old, abandoned thaigs... ******* As a general warning: it's all 100% consensual, but there isn't a whole lot of negotiation on specific acts ahead of time, and there are a few (quickly corrected) mis-steps. Nobody gets hurt, or even actually upset, but I know that's a sensitive issue for some.

While the Asset is in the middle of an experimentation session with the Chem Sci department, an emergency happens in another lab. One of the other experimental creatures escaped its containment cell and the Asset is ordered to go take care of it. He's hosed off, plugged up, geared up, and sent upstairs post-haste to deal with the problem. Unfortunately, the Asset is still flush with drugs that make him incredibly aroused. When the escaped creature notices, he takes an interest. Much to the Asset's delight.

“Shizun said I made you feel so good,” Luo Binghe says, “that I could fuck you any time I wanted.” Liu Qingge stops breathing for a second. “What,” he blurts out. Shen Qingqiu could tell he’d been into it?!

If a little fondness slips through, it apparently only makes Han Ying bolder. “Would you allow me to call you Valley Master, if we did?” Wen Kexing laughs under his breath at the brazen request, tipping Han Ying’s face back with two fingers beneath his chin. Narrows his eyes and looks down at him, assuming an air of cold indifference. “Are you a ghost, Han Ying?” “I could be,” Han Ying says quietly. “If you wanted me to be.”

As Theon grows, he begins to question his place in the Stark family. Especially in regards to the heir of Winterfell.

“Remind me why I’m the one on my knees again? I look ridiculous.” He’s not kidding. He doesn’t have the fucking physique to pull off submissive kitty cat. He’s broad, hairy, and thick with muscle. The expensive ears on his head, the detailed mitts on his hands, and the tail attached to his leather short shorts can’t possibly look anything but stupid. Not to mention the heavy black leather collar around his neck and its stupidly delicate Property of Timothy Drake-Wayne tag. He doesn’t know what the fuck Babs was thinking when she asked him to help Tim with this mission instead of Steph. Except he does, because of course their target just had to be into degrading big men. Fuck, but he hates honeypot missions.

"Hell, Pretender. Look at you being all assertive and shit. You gonna ask me to call you Daddy while you're at it?" "Depends." Tim doesn’t miss a beat. He runs his fingers lower, caressing Jason's perineum and the back of his balls with his knuckles. "Do you wanna be my good boy, Hood?" Jason sucks in a sharp breath, hips jerking as his cock pulses. "Fuck off. Of course not." "I think you do. But you're right, Daddy doesn't really fit, does it?" Tim tilts his head, remembering Jason's propensity for feminine pet names. "How about Mommy?"

Zoro would thank Luffy for introducing him to Law all those months back, if he ever dared to tell him why in the first place that is, but their mutual friend didn't have to know what kind of relationship they had developed. Only him and Law would ever know what happened behind that door everytime Zoro would visit. (or Law and Zoro having a rough session in the BDSM room)

"So, uh . . ." Kon says, skeptically eyeing the softly glowing rock in his hand. Metallo, like, threw it at his head. He has no idea why. "Is this supposed to do something or . . . ?" "It's pink," Kara says leerily, staying very firmly back.