All Skyjumpers are omegas and help each other through their heats. But lucky Caine has himself an alpha now -- and Stinger's heat is shaping up to be a bitch this cycle, and he could really use her help, if Caine doesn't kill him for asking.

A wicked smile slowly spreads across Kent’s face, and he turns to Jack. “What do you say, should I show your boy how to make you cry?”

Barry agrees to a deal with the devil and finds himself enjoying it a lot more than he expected.

All it takes is a mention of his name while they're in bed together, and suddenly Barry Allen is a constant presence in the relationship of Iris and Eddie. Now they have to figure out what to do about that. Eddie/Iris at the start, eventual threesome.

In which Iris and Eddie go house hunting, Eddie has a lot of feelings and makes a lot of coffee, and everyone has to apologise at least once.

Kaaras needs to be in control. As he's faced with more decisions, more events the workings of which he doesn't understand, he feels this control slipping. He needs to face the fact that he may not know everything, and may even not know exactly he is himself. Iron Bull and Dorian can help with that. Rated for future chapters.

Gaara calls the shots; Lee gets the attention; but Sakura inevitably gets what she wants.

A wicked smile slowly spreads across Kent’s face, and he turns to Jack. “What do you say, should I show your boy how to make you cry?”

Tyrion knew, as he gazed up at the dark skinned Martell man that this was perhaps his only chance to spirit Sansa out of King's Landing and away from his father's greedy fingers. Tywin Lannister would have married the girl himself if he felt he could have gotten away with it, and so Tyrion knew his own marriage was no protection to Ned Stark's daughter whatsoever. "Invite her, demand her, steal her--whatever you choose, Prince Oberyn, choose it soon. Else my lady wife shall break into more pieces than the stars."

This fic goes canon divergent for everything following Mary acting as a client in His Last Vow. Sherlock misses John. John misses Sherlock. Victor Trevor, Sherlock's oldest friend (and a super nice guy in this version) and participant in the 'great sexual experiment of '98' shows up to cuddle the hell out of a touch-starved Sherlock, get him talking, and get those two idiots back together. He'll work on Mary later. One fucked-up couple at a time is all he can handle.

Three weeks after their wedding, they give Sherlock a ring.

Sherlock needs John. John lights up around Sherlock. Mary loves her boys and thinks this is a lot less complicated than they are making it. Set right after TEH and before SoT. Fast turning into a bloody epic season three fix-it.

“Fuck,” John says, admiringly. He enjoys giving women head, but this is something else altogether. This is devotion beyond the call of duty. This is fucking worshiping at the altar of Mary Morstan.

“Trust me,” Mary whispers, and in a louder voice: “Come in, Sherlock.”

A different kind of race.

In which John learns to balance a kinky girlfriend, an asexual boyfriend, a ten-inch cock, his sister, the neighbours, his friends, and his blog. Some are more balanced than others.

Duo Maxwell has just signed on to join Team Gundam Wing, an upstart League of Legends team looking to win the World Championships. Duo Maxwell, the first openly gay professional gamer. Duo Maxwell, the guy hated by almost all of Reddit. Duo Maxwell, the guy whose own brother hates him. Duo Maxwell, the guy who really just wants to find a team that doesn't hate him. AU.

Two very different people fall in love with a boy called death. Finding each other is chance. Falling for each other isn’t. This is their story. (Or in which Nico is Death with a capital D, Annabeth is a serial killer, and Percy is the poor schmuck who falls for both of them.)

Tyler thought things would be different in Dallas. He just had no idea how different it could be.

Sublimation 1. Passing from one phase to another without transitioning through an intermediate phase. 2. Where socially unacceptable impulses or idealizations are consciously transformed into socially acceptable actions or behavior, possibly resulting in a long-term conversion of the initial impulse. Patrick Kane and Jonathan Toews should probably have figured out the first time what this type of behavior meant.

The things that Annabeth knows about Nico di Angelo could be used to fill a book. A very large book, like the hulking dictionary she has back home. That wasn't always the case.

The grey light of Spain carries their history with it, and it's gleaming through the cracks. // Two long cons, in thirteen conversations.

jack zimmermann and eric bittle may or may not be dating. kent parson may or may not still be hung up on jack zimmermann. they all definitely have some sex. a trilogy.

“Dibs on blondie,” Kent tells Jack. Jack makes a face at him. “Kenny, you can’t call dibs on a human being.” Kent scoffs. “Says you. Dibs.”

Good friends share. Lardo and Bitty are good friends.

The idea brings its own problems, of course. Rey was a one for so long that it’s been hard to get used to being a two with Finn, but at least for that she has seen models that she could learn from, even living and scavenging in the wastes of Jakku. There were some raggedy families headed up by parents; one or two young couples who shared their food and took turns sheltering each other from the sun. She has no frame of reference for this, for threeness, but she knows she wants it. Never mind that she’s never seen it done before. She’ll have to make it up as she goes; at least she’s good at that. There’s the family you’re born into, and then there’s the one you make for yourself.

Rey is different from Finn; all sharp angles with kinetic energy beneath pale skin, eyes wide enough to take in the sky. A completely different kind of beauty from Finn, but beautiful all the same. Oh no, thinks Poe Dameron, with a sinking realisation.

A one-night-stand becomes a whole lot more. If only life were that simple.

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.

Tony’s almost at the door of his lab when he hears it. It’s low, throaty; just a split second of a thing. But it’s undoubtedly the sound of Barnes moaning.

As a back up against death, Herah Adaar learns that if she gets her most loyal male follower pregnant, the child will be born with the mark. But why risk only one being the most loyal?

Raleigh is loud as fuck during sex. Mako probably isn't, but maybe Chuck just can't hear her over Raleigh's caterwauling. And Chuck… is not as unaffected by that as he wants to be.

John, Sherlock, and Mary are married. No one knows. Except Molly. Who's helping Mary with a murder. While Sherlock proposes to Janine. Who's working for the guy who's blackmailing Mary and who Mary's planning to kill. Which neither John nor Sherlock know. What could go wrong?!

It starts out ironically, of course, but by the time Dave's wearing a corset and a swanky evening dress and Terezi's in a three-piece suit, Jade wants nothing more than to get them both into bed as soon as possible.

"Why're you still here, bro," Latula repeats patiently. Kankri glances up accidentally -- midriff, oh dear -- and glances away, fast. Sitting in the surf is a man with too many visible ribs and shoulders too wide for his frame, strings-and-cables musculature in stark relief through the lack of even the smallest coating of insulating flesh. He looks starving and steel-strong both and there are little chalk-white nicks of scars everywhere on him. Foam runs up to his waist; Kankri stares, thinking stupidly, he is naked. Did he decide in a fit of whimsical, ah, otherness, to take off that last bit of -- but no, there is the edge of his waistband, and Kankri turns his gaze down to the sand between his own knees, ears burning with shame at his own salacious, depraved disappointment. They want me gone, he thinks, and he knows why. This is a perfect place, a perfect moment; he's intruding.

"I need to—" you can't, you can't say it with Mituna there. "It's my mutation," you say instead. "There are complications." "Okay, dude, open the door," Latula says. The knob rattles, and you miss whatever Mituna says next. "Yeah, I know, but he's still one of us. We can't just let him suffer, you know?" (Kankri misses a social outing. Some of his friends come to check up on him.)

So, um. Terezi is kissing her. By the way. "Wowza. Lesbos R Us, at long last. I knew that day would come. Anyone got a camera." Terezi has a lot more teeth to get nibbly with than Karkat and her tongue is way longer and oh lord does she know how to use it. Jade wonders to herself, vaguely, why she never kissed her boyfriends' girlfriend before. That was a really silly oversight. Mmm. "Haha, shut up, Dave, you've been modeling for the Gay Dudes R You catalogue for like three years now." "Like you can talk, Mister It's Not Gay If He Doesn't Have Balls To Touch." -- oneshot, plus a couple of ficlet sequels.

Hotaru has dreams about Matsuoka and Yukimura. They’re totally platonic. Up until they’re not, and Hotaru ends up wondering what they’d all be like together. Even that totally wouldn’t happen. Because they’re not dating her. Y’know. Yet.

Dear god, I just needed to write some PWP. The ever-lovely flutiebear suggested this prompt. Seamus gets deflowered by either Hawke or Anders... The one not deflowering...assists.

Oberyn Martell knows how to handle a spear, say the whisperers; he is a vicious fighter and his blade is always poisoned. It’s hardly surprising, then, that poisoned, too, is his invitation. (Missing scene set during A Storm of Swords)

This is how Sidney Crosby ends up in Alex Ovechkin's living room, one wolf cub in his lap and another gnawing on his Reeboks.

GC: 1F YOU GUYS FORC3 M3 TO FL1P 4SH3N 4ND TH3R3FOR3 D3PR1V3 M3 OF 4LL TH4T 4CROB4T1C S3XU4L CONGR3SS W3 S1GN3D ON FOR *TH3 PUN1SHM3NT SH4LL F1T TH3 CR1M3 3X4CTLY* GC: BY WH1CH 1 M34N MY C4N3 H1D3S TWO R3C3NTLY-SH4RP3N3D BL4D3S 4ND 1T S3R3ND1P1TOUSLY H4PP3NS TH4T B3TW33N TH3 TWO OF YOU YOU GUYS H4V3 TWO BON3BULG3S GC: WH1CH M1GHT NOT ST4Y TH3 C4S3 LONG -- Okay, good! Terezi, Dave and Karkat have finally figured out this quadrant dating thing. Now to figure out which twosome gets to hook up first.

In which Karkat is very well taken care of.

Jade and Tavros invite Dave for his first xeno experience.

Rose needs peace and quiet to get on with her writing. You'd think that'd be easy in the limitless void of deep space, but no.

Prolly if the two of you had handled this on your own, it woulda turned bloody real fast. You're guessin' neither of you woulda been willin' to let it go without the other one dead, and who the fuck knows what that coulda done to your two groups of friends. Now, you ain't gonna fuck shit up for everyone else if you can help it, but like fuck are you just gonna let Feferi Peixes have her own way. Not over your dead body, necessarily. But... maybe over hers. Lucky for the two of you, lil' Vantas McNubs is way too nosy for his own good. An' way too persistent. An' way too fuckin' precious to ever, ever hurt. It was gettin' real coddamn ugly the first time he jumped in between you. Feferi was just about ready to go for you, an' like shell were you lettin' her get away with that bullshit, an' both of you were there with your tridents out an' all, an' there's Karkat, just jumpin' in the middle like it ain't no thing.

Some days she maybe secretly wishes a tiny bit she didn't have to climb a rope to get home, but today she landed a miscreant in human jail to reflect on his crimes and she feels grimly victorious, enough to combat the fatigue. "Hallo the den of iniquity! I'm home!" she yells when she makes it to the landing, after she has spat her briefcase's handle out of her mouth. (The serrated corner almost gets her in the foot.) -- Terezi, Karkat and Dave do the totally ordinary suburban married life thing, with great success.

He felt like the naked girl who'd just been a white wolf and the half-naked guy who'd just been a mangled corpse dragged into his barn by a wolf completely deserved his screaming. The ~magical~ turd-licking fence-fuckers masquerading as his classmates had been sneak-flirting with him for weeks. "Is my life actually a shitty supernatural romance?! Am I going to develop more special than you powers that somehow never matter half as much as who I fuck? Am I supposed to arbitrate your little game of which one of you is the sexiest alpha male by gracing them with my boy cooch?" -- now with sequel pesterlog silliness.

Okay, and that was why Bruce had sidekicks. It absolutely made a person feel better about all their shitty mistakes.

"Do I look like that much of a damsel in distress to you?"