“I don’t care for that honorifics crap. Well, I guess Ygritte hasn’t told you, did she?” “Told me what?” “What I thought. Just call me Robb. I don’t get off on people calling me titles.” “And what do you get off to then? If I may ask.” “Sure you can. I get off on people trusting me to do right by them. Which means that unless everyone is happy, it doesn’t work for me.” Or: where Theon Greyjoy and Robb Stark walk into Ygritte's BDSM club one evening. Calling it good karma is probably an understatement.

When Shuri finds evidence that the heart-shaped herb might still be growing wild in Jabariland, T'Challa and M'Baku embark on a quest to find it. As the journey takes them deep into the mountains, though, their newfound trust—and growing attraction—is tested.

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.

Why the fuck would Ned Stark’s kid volunteer to sell off his fucking virginity, that’s something Jaime would honestly like to know. … Also, damn, now that he looks back at it, it’s not just that he’s nervous. He has the face of someone who’s wholly fucking regretting being here. Or: in which Jon makes extremely bad life decisions. Good for him that he pretty much crashes Jaime's undercover op.

Yuuri, under the username of Eros, is a size queen omega who most certainly does not have an obsession with fellow camboy and legendary silver-haired alpha Aria. Just like Phichit is not the most meddlesome roommate known to man.

Through sheer serendipity, Tony discovers a lesser known side effect of the super soldier serum. Naturally, his scientific curiosity demands that it be tested in the bedroom. Oh, and he's always fantasized about being filled with copious amounts of come. In which Steve makes Tony's dreams come true and discovers a few things about himself along the way.

All Might – Toshinori – fakes it. All the time, every time, because he has to. Aizawa thinks lying and liars are the most exhausting things in life, so of course he didn't expect to fall in love, but here they are.

Shiro is waiting for Keith on the bridge when Matt comes to say hello. Keith finds them in a compromising looking position, which accidentally opens up a new world of possibilities. Written for Kinktober Day 4 - Spitroasing

When Zevran is hired by the Grey Wardens to help take out a Venatori stronghold, an experimental plant there releases spores that inflict Alistair with a particularly unusual debilitating effect. Zevran's treatment of him proves to be surprising for both parties.

Alistair has spent his whole life hating himself for the things he wants. Zevran is just looking for a fun way to pass the time. What could possibly go wrong when someone who has no experience with sex gets into a D/s relationship with someone who has no experience with healthy relationships? Or: Alistair and Zevran serve as a case study on how to do (almost) everything wrong but still end up in the right place (eventually).

A vignette of the morning after the finale in Paris. Wolfgang's useless; Kala's asleep, and Rajan's falling in love all over again.

Rajan finds it easier to accept his wife is a sensate in love with someone else than that he might be falling for Wolfgang. And he, and she, for him. ---- A build up from Wolfgang and Rajan to Wolfgang, Kala and Rajan told from Rajan's perspective. First two parts take place in the finale and the last after.

They were back in the Positano villa, the place they had spent their honeymoon, and the symbolism of it had not escape Rajan. Three times he’d come here with his wife now. The first they had come together, just the two of them, to embark upon their shared life together. The second time he had arrived without her, but with all of people, all of the secrets, she had withheld from him. He had followed blindly behind her into a world of violence and persecution and warfare, and such love, so much love he barely knew how to process it. It was then he and his wife started their marriage anew, with the knowledge that they understood each other now, with clarity, and generosity, and hope. This third time, Wolfgang Bogdanow was their only companion, and Rajan could not help but wonder what that meant for the third symbolic consummation of his marriage. Perhaps this place was destined to be both where his marriage had opened, and where it would close.

Wolfgang walked up to the door, took a deep breath, and knocked. “Come in,” came Rajan’s call from inside. Wolfgang gently pushed open the door and stepped into the room, head ducked and shoulders hunched, a nervous smile on his face. Rajan looked up from the book he was reading on the bed and smiled. “Kala’s at work still,” he said, fumbling for his bookmark and placing the book on the bedside table. Wolfgang swallowed. “Um, I was actually… looking for you,” he said. “Is that okay?”

The war is over, the sensates are safe, and Wolfgang finally got everything he ever wanted. Now, the morning after his entanglement with both Kala and Rajan, there is only a single question left to answer: What now?

Rajan watches Wolfgang pick up his wife and twirl her around; they look good together, like two halves of a whole—although that isn’t particularly true, with six of their other selves standing nearby. He feels a knot twist in his stomach; Rajan tells himself it’s jealousy.

Wei Wuxian has an idea and makes a talisman. A sexy talisman.

Wei Wuxian just wants a little warning before Lan Wangji says nice things. Lan Wangji just wants to love on his husband, thanks.

Jīn Líng received a request for aid from a remote village under his Sect's protection. As Sect Leader, he goes personally and call his allies for help. He won't fail his people like the previous leaders have, but he's got a lot of work to do. Or: Jīn Líng goes on a little cross-country trip, finds out how badly his Sect has been handled, and goes from being a distant, uncaring ruler to "that nice young man who swore his friendship with those other polite boys over breakfast. It was so cute." Day 3: Prompt, Goodwill

“Just do what you can, Senior Wei!” Sizhui whispers. “We’ll be right here!” “Yeah!” Jingyi says. “And just remember: it’s going to be a disaster either way, so it’s not like there’s much you can do about it!” (Or: Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng plan a discussion conference together. It goes about as well as Wei Wuxian expects.)

“I propose that we kill two birds with one stone,” Liu Mingyan said, and if her tone goes a bit theatrical, Jiang Cheng had the decency not to point it out. “I don’t follow,” Jiang Cheng deadpanned, crossing his arms. “I thought the plan was to milk this whole thing for what it’s worth and gracefully part ways when it inevitably fell apart.” “Yes, well. There’s a perfectly viable solution to the whole ‘falling apart’ part - you,” she said, pointing to Jiang Cheng, “Marry my brother.” -- Jiang Cheng gets married in the spring of his 39th year. It turns out better than he expected.

“Are you trying to propose to me, Zhan-ge?” Yibo asks, lifting his eyebrows. Xiao Zhan laughs, the sound slightly wheezing. “At dinner…” He runs his thumb over the ring, biting down on his lip. “It was cute. You were acting like Yixing’s trophy husband.” His voice probably isn’t as light as he means it to be. It’s too rough around the edges for a joke. Still, the description makes Yibo stick his lower lip out in a frown. “I wouldn’t have if you weren’t ignoring me,” he says. “I wasn’t ignoring you.” He cups his hand around Yibo’s chin, their lips hovering close together again. “I was watching.”

Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I'm considering a problem." "Can I be of any assistance with it?" He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen's chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen's side. "Not this one, er-ge."

Every student of House Mandrake is assigned a study partner, a counterpart from House Valerian. Lan Wangji suspects, with some outrage, that he's been given the troublemaker.

I wouldn't mind, Mingjue's voice echoes in his mind. If you wanted to be - with him, also. We share everything. au where mingcheng start banging during sunshot, and this fixes a lot of things. life gets more complicated, however, when nie mingjue notices his brother's feelings for his lover.

“I haven’t…” she starts, watches his blue eyes narrowed in concern and it’s distracting, everything’s distracting. “I haven’t had a body in a hundred years,” Zelda manages, and shrugs one shoulder, as if to say what can you do? “I was Hylia, mostly, and a little bit me, but I wasn’t a person. I was the sun and the wind and the water and the dirt and I was in a prison and I was the prison. I feel like I’m blindfolded, now, without that sense of the world, but also everything is so bright and loud and close and I hardly know how I’m managing to speak to you when my skin is feeling wind for the first time in a century. It’s…” she trails off, her words failing her, which is infuriating because she’s a scholar, she’s good at words. “It’s a lot,” she finishes awkwardly, for lack of anything better to say. Or: Learning to be a person again, after the end.

Everyone knows that the esteemed First Jade of Lan, the honorable Zewu-jun, future sect leader of Gusu Lan and paragon of strength, is an alpha - and a powerful one at that. While sheltering him from the Wen, Meng Yao discovers otherwise.

"There is nothing truly new on earth, they say. There was a time Wang Zhi believed that." Tang Fan and Sui Zhou have brought new experiences, sensations, and feelings into Wang Zhi's life since the moment he met them, and even after several years of friendship, things can still be new. (A story set several years after canon, exploring the physical side of the trio's growing romantic relationship.)

Huaisang drags Meng Yao to the kink club. Meng Yao is not having a good time, until he is suddenly having a very good time. Turns out holding hands and eating frozen yogurt can qualify as kink if you do it right.

[“I just—“ Zuko begins, cuts himself off, opens his mouth to try again. Nothing comes out, and Sokka gives him a full-body squeeze to encourage him. “Maybe next time, you could, uh…” “Yes?” Rushing him does nothing but make him shut down, Sokka’s learned the hard way. Patience isn’t something that comes naturally, but it’s something that he’s learning, just like Zuko’s slowly learning to communicate. “Maybe next time, I want you to, uh, hold me down.”] Or, Zuko learns to use his words.

Wen Kexing is aware of the following things. One, Han Ying would die for Zhou Zishu - and Wen Kexing likes that in a man. Two, upon their first meeting Han Ying dropped to his knees before A-Xu the moment Wen Kexing let go of his throat - and that is simply just interesting. Three, Han Ying is A-Xu's in a way no one else is anymore. That last part, he could find an issue with. Or, he could use it for the best - he is not called Philanthropist Wen for nothing, after all.

Thursdays are for boxing. Thursdays are for Nie Mingjue. He pretends, sometimes, that they’re peers, even though they’re in different weight classes and always will be. He likes spitting and snarling at Nie Mingjue just to see what he’ll do, to push and shove at the boundaries. Nie Mingjue, it feels like sometimes, has self control the way that ponds have ice in the late fall- delicately and temporarily and easily disturbed.

Sid’s gotten pretty used to total strangers asking him what he’s trying to prove, or telling him he wasn’t raised right, and they always expect it to bother him. He doesn’t tell them he hears much, much worse on the ice. When shit gets even worse than usual—when a ref calls him a brat when he’s arguing a call, when another team’s goon tries to put him on his knees five times a game—he sits on the bench and presses down on his chest protector, feeling the shape of the captain’s ring on its chain around his neck, until he doesn’t feel like throwing up anymore. Sid’s never had a dom, not even for a night, but he has his team, and that’s enough. That’s more than enough.

Of course Tyler knows that intense hockey makes a sub more susceptible to going under, but he hadn't really experienced it much before. Now, when he’s on his knees on the ice drinking beer out of the Worlds trophy that Sidney Fucking Crosby is holding to his mouth, he can recognize the signs. He can feel a haze settling around the edges of his mind, and he’s spent enough time subbing, and drunk, and subbing while drunk, to know which one of those this is.

That's the end of the talking for a while, but it's only the beginning of Patrick thinking about it. He does some research, but it turns out that googling "what does it mean that I like getting held down during sex" doesn't provide much helpful information, and he can't bring it up with anyone, so he just – thinks about it, instead. It's probably more thought than he's put into anything before in his life other than hockey, but it leads him to some pretty interesting conclusions.

Zhenya checks everything one last time: the artificial slick goes in the pocket of his jeans, and yes, the bottle of wine for Sid’s collection is nestled in a wood box in the back seat. He’d actually gone out and bought cream cheese to make a cheesecake on autopilot before he’d remembered – food is an alpha’s courting-gift, not an omega's. He'd thrown the cream cheese out, and bought the wine the next day.

It's not like Phil goes around telling people that his old team bought him his best friend like some people buy hookers. He can't really talk about it with Bozie, either, because Bozie will just say something like, "Come on, I provide the full girlfriend experience," which is so much worse than actually being offended.

Geno ends up with red, white and blue hair after the Caps game, so he’s the first person sent to the new cursebreaker when they make it back to Pittsburgh. Sid is in the lounge when Geno comes back out. “I’m know her,” Geno says despondently. “She’s cursebreaker on staff for media at Sochi.”

“They asked me, today, in an interview with Sid right next to me, about that thing I said last year. About leaving the Penguins, being a big star somewhere else.” “And you’re, what? Afraid he’s going to be angry with you?” Zhenya squirms. He feels hot and prickly, his emotions a soupy mess he can’t grasp in order to make sense of. “I think… I think I’m afraid he won’t be.”

Sitting at the table was Sid: Sid as Zhenya had first known him, almost a decade before: dorky, long-haired Sid, his cheeks round with baby fat. He couldn’t have been older than twenty, and even that was generous. “Wow,” baby Sid said. “Are you Evgeni Malkin?"

Hilary is okay with having a rep if it means NHL stars bring her Cheetos.

Dylan and Mitch try to settle an argument about who gives the better hand job using Connor's dick.

Geno's a dom and only a dom, Sidney's a sub who doms sometimes but only because people keep asking her nicely, and all their feelings for each other are entirely platonic. Yeah right.

Soft hockey boys just trying to make it work.

"Hey, so," Tyler says when the marks on his ass have faded to a gross yellow-green. "Next time, you wanna make out first?"

The Washington Capitals part of the D/s AU.

Just because Shea and Steve had spent the night together a couple, okay a bunch, of times didn’t mean that Shea could just… affect him like that. Steve had had plenty of casual-play arrangements with Doms around the country, and none of them could ever… Besides, Steve couldn’t kneel right now, not with his knee fucked up, and that meant he couldn't sub.

“Dragons that lay eggs, are more properly referred to as Dragonkind. They grow to be ten feet tall, walk on two legs, are...somewhat humanoid, and they have a single sex.” “So the same dragon lays the eggs and fertilizes them?” “Hm.” “...I’m still missing something.” “Dragonkind need a host to incubate their eggs for the first few hours after laying.” “Ohh, so the sheepskin and hot water bottle is to keep it snug while you’re holding it against your chest. I see. Bit of a cuddle.” “No, Jaskier.” “...they lay the egg, and then you cuddle it, and they, er. Fertilize it while you’re curled around it? Bit sticky, still doesn’t explain the size of the reward.” “No, Jaskier.” Geralt added thoughtfully, after a moment. “And the one in this territory uses ‘he.’ Not they.” “He. Good to know. Well gods damn it then, Geralt, why don’t you explain to me in direct language where little dragons come from then?”

Boba Fett likes to be in control. Din Djarin feels more out of control with every passing day. Giving control over to Boba would make both of them happy. Din just doesn't understand why that has to be so complicated. (Or, rebuilding an entire culture is hard. Boba helps, more or less.)

“Bakugou?” Bakugou shuffled on his feet, hovering over Kirishima and looking at the ground with stormy eyes. He glanced up to glare at Kirishima, a silent dare to call him out on his odd behavior no doubt. Kirishima forced himself not to tense. Whatever Bakugou wanted, he was about to show him and Kirishima had to get this right. Bakugou was all about showing and not telling. Kirishima nearly bit his tongue to keep in a squawk of surprise when Bakugou suddenly dropped to his knees next to him, shuffling forward until he could press his forehead to his thigh and hide his face against Kirishima's leg. Kirishima opened his mouth, questions on the tip of his tongue, and he barely managed to catch them before they could be given voice. Bakugou was trembling minutely, his entire frame so tense his muscles were twitching under Kirishima's gaze. “Just. Don't say anything,” Bakugou muttered, hands clenching in his lap tightly. “Please,” he whispered, a short choked sound.