Maybe you’re keyed up from blackflirting with Equius, maybe you’re horny because TZ has been so wrapped up in her new kismesissitude lately, but you find yourself admiring the way Roxy's short skirt rides high up the backs of those thighs. Steady on, Captor, you can’t have everybody, you tell yourself. A traitorous little voice in your head says, why not? Jegus fuck, you need to get laid.

If the request meme thing is still on may I request some harleybert sandwiches with Vantas-filling?

Why the Beforan equivalent of yourself didn't appear here, you're not sure, though you suspect it has something to do with direct and indirect transference and the extent to which each of you had contact with game code prior to this remix of the universe; the Ancestors from Alternia had vague memories of being their Beforan selves, so both versions re-instanced, but as far as you know you're the only version of Sollux Captor the game was aware of. Poor Sollux, you jeer internally, all alone in the world. If you were to quadrant yourself, you're not sure whether self-hate or self-pity would be the dominant emotion, but either way, you're getting off on it. God, you make yourself sick. You hold your bulge like you're trying to restrain it, but who the fuck are you kidding. It wraps around your fingers, both tendrils snaking and coiling harder the more you try to will them to stop, like don't-think-of-a-trunkbeast, and you rub at them distractedly because you can't stand not to. Sollux Captor, system architect of the new universe, reduced to thinking with his bulge by two copies of his ancestor being obnoxious at each other. Fuck your hot life.

Karkat ends up in his Ancestor's dreambubble. He's kinda okay with that, all things considered.

Care and fucking of your lispy bipolar nerd.

Sollux just wanted a tattoo. He came out of it with ten piercings and a threesome.

Keith stood under the hot spray of the shower head, his eyes closed as he focused inward, trying desperately to regain some sense of composure. He wasn’t quite certain what was wrong with him today; he was the one moving out of sync in their training exercises, he’d run himself into an invisible maze-wall so hard he was dizzy for a quarter hour after it, and he swore he could still feel the static jolt under his skin. When Shiro had touched his shoulder, eyes concerned, his touch was like a fresh electric current and Keith had yanked himself away.

Damn puberty. Lance blames space. Space puberty. Space puberty is making life super difficult for him--especially since now, he can't STOP looking at Shiro and his buff arms and his great thighs and his great actually everything. [Lance, due to the wonders of Space Puberty, is super into Shiro. Only problem is, he's not exactly sure what else to do besides desperately obsess over how hot their leader is.]

Being away from Earth means going without heat suppressants. This proves to be a problem for Lance who has been avoiding his heats since puberty. Lucky for him Shiro and Keith are willing to help. “I thought that was why you were being such a jerk.” Keith’s feet shuffled over over the carpet. “You know. Another omega in your space?” “No, I just really find you annoying.”

So this story is about the time I fucked up— [ONE of the times you fucked up] —and pissed off Shiklah, my wife. She decided to punish me with the help of a couple of her henchdemons, and kinky fun was had by all.

Nozaki mistakenly thinks he's dating someone. And it gets worse.

In the end, getting Law to agree to spending the night with them had been the easy part. Knocking down a few of his walls was going to be much more difficult. Law/Zoro/Sanji

It's not like Usopp had thought about it much, really. Just once. Or twice. Or a few dozen times. So when the opportunity presents itself, he'd be a fool not to take it. Zoro/Sanji/Law/Usopp, set in the 'So Good So Far' 'verse but not canon to the fic itself, and also my birthday present to Usopp.

Xanxus figures it's probably better not to ask too many questions, just in case he doesn't like the answers.

In the suppression of one sense, the others sometimes become sharper.

In which there are vampires and hunters and watchers and humans, Yamamoto Takeshi is more than a little bit crazy, and Gokudera Hayato is caught in between a whole bunch of loyalties and duties.

No harm ever came from -

In which Yamamoto shows Squalo a new trick for dealing with Xanxus.

Rule number one: Never take your eyes off the Mist. The Tenth is the only reason it works, and that's because Tsuna doesn't know how to give up on anything. Or anyone. And when it's the Tenth asking, somehow everyone just seems to end up going along with it one way or another in the end.

Gokudera doesn't know how to say no to Tsuna, which is maybe just as well.

Yamamoto has kind of a thing for stuff that's perfect. He thinks that's perfectly natural; just about everyone else thinks he's crazy.

Sometimes it's really difficult to figure out what Mukuro-sama actually wants.

Midoriya and Todoroki get hit by a quirk that triggers heats and ruts. In the 48hrs that follow, the secret that Midoriya has kept hidden is painfully revealed. Both Todoroki and Iida must find a way to keep him safe without hurting him further...and they'll need Bakugo's help.

One might think that after spending six years serving as a Galaxy Garrison senior officer, leading dozens of dangerous missions into enemy territory, personally overseeing the deaths of Zarkon’s highest generals, and getting his arm blown off only to be replaced by a weaponized prosthetic against his will, Shiro would be prepared for anything the Universe threw at him. He was not prepared for Keith and Lance.

Matt has a plan to get Shiro laid; Shiro has a lot of misgivings about this. "Shiro. Buddy. I swear on everything I hold holy—" "You're an atheist," Shiro points out. "—I swear on the grave of Carl Sagan and in the name of Neil deGrasse Tyson," Matt says, not missing a beat, "that if you go home alone tonight, it'll be your own personal decision and not because you won't have other options."

Wufei is made to watch and wait.

A follow-up to Would Have, And Did. In which Rilienus' lover enjoys watching him have sex with other men, Rilienus enjoys being the centre of attention, Dorian is in charge of it all and The Iron Bull thinks that's hot. (Also some feelings).

In which an old friend unexpectedly turns up at Skyhold, and Dorian has too many emotions about-- well, everything.

Roy gets significantly more than he bargained for with a pair of gold-eyed prostitutes.

In his defense, it wasn’t that he didn’t know Obito was attractive. Of course he did. With abs and arms like those who wouldn’t know? It was that he hadn’t realized just how attractive Obito was until they started their current mission.

“Actually we’re open,” he explained. He didn’t get it. “Open?” “To having sex with strangers.” Wait— Oh. Oh.

With a trembling breath, Genma pries his fingers off of Kurama’s skin, reaches up and strokes a hand through Raidō’s hair. Every muscle feels like water, but when Raidō smiles at him he smiles back, cups a hand around the back of Kurama’s head, and gets out, “A plus on your first threesome. Excellent job, top marks. Holy fuck.”

“Happy birthday, Shane,” Sara says. “I got you a Ryan.” “Th—thanks?” Shane says. He looks at Ryan and Ryan just looks back, weirdly impassive, giving nothing away. “But I’m pretty sure I already have a Ryan in this model. What’s the return policy?” “Not like this, you don’t,” she says, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. Out of the corner of his eye Shane can see Ryan bring his hand to his mouth, stifling a snicker that he turns into a cough. Oh, he thinks. Oh shit.

Short fics originally posted to my Tumblr, edited and collected here.

He has the face of a devil, sharp and beautiful and just a little bit evil, and Diego should really know better when Klaus gets that clever look in his eye.

Simone grins wider and runs her other hand through his hair. “Okay, here’s your warning. You’re gonna eat me out, and then I’m gonna ride you.” Brian’s dick twitches in her hand and Pat groans from the bed and she laughs. “Seems like everyone thinks that’s a great idea, so…”

"To be clear," Zevran said, offering his own glass to the Iron Bull on the correct assumption that he wouldn't much care what he drank from, "I have nothing against bedding married couples. I find it can be quite exhilarating."

Marina prompted me with "Sense8: anything post show with Rajan/Kala/Wolfgang." I decided I wanted these three to have a little time to themselves without there being a giant sensate orgy going on at the same time. Set immediately post-series finale, ware spoilers.

Mingjue’s thumbs stroke gently against the wings of his shoulders as he leans in, setting his mouth to Jiang Cheng’s ear. “Qingqing wants this, too. All three of us. You, me, her.” A shudder runs down Jiang Cheng’s spine; he’s dizzy, breath coming too fast, and he’s shamefully hard just from this, his erection trapped against the edge of the sink. “Would you like that, Cheng-di? It’s fine if you don’t, but if you do –” “Yes.” The word rasps out of him, echo-y and desperate. “I want that.”

Shang Qinghua had never had a good idea - not a single good idea, not ever. In fact, this was possibly his worst idea ever. In fact, he was pretty sure he was going to die. In fact, he was - ... wait, why wasn't Binghe upset? Why was Binghe willing to do this? What sort of novel had this become!? Why was the only dying he was doing now while Mobei-jun and Luo Binghe were clearly having a good time without him?!

Kissing and dentata.

Connor honestly doesn’t mean to snoop.

Patrick is in heat.

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?"

Andre just short-circuits people’s normal boundaries. Alex has even put down the Wales trophy.

Jack has already secured Dylan to the bed when Connor walks in. Jack slipped him an extra key card after practice. It’s the perfect entrance.

“Tater thinks I’m pretty,” Eric blurts out, and Jack chokes as he’s taking a sip of his drink. “Maybe wrong word,” Alexei tries, reaching out to squeeze Eric’s shoulder, “You handsome, but face is soft. Is nice face. Uh, you okay, Zimmboni?” “Yeah,” Jack coughs. His eyes are watering. “You’re right. Bitty is pretty.” “Is rhyme!” Alexei yells, excitedly, and offers his champagne bottle to Jack. “Drink for rhyme.”

Mitch doesn't care that much about the sacrifice. Life's short, he gets to play hockey for a living, the mildly annoying parts are worth it.

If Connor was a good person - if he was a Good Simple Boring Canadian Boy - he wouldn’t watch his best friend get fucked by his older brother.

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