Merlin found the spell written on the inside back cover of his book.

Smutty, kinky, threesome slash.

There’s a plan already forming in the back of Tony’s mind and he knows it’s teasing, but it’s not an opportunity he can willingly pass up. Sequel to Fuck Me Heels. Enjoy guys!

Prompt fill; Kurt driving a tied up, spread open Blaine to tears by denying him pleasure and refusing to touch him.

Tony is trying very hard to be the perfect boyfriend. Maybe too hard. But that's okay because Pepper has a simple solution to get Tony to relax and nurture his other relationships too. "Hello, Captain. What can I do for you?" "It's about Tony," he says immediately, his soldier's efficiency not allowing for any dallying. "We - the Avengers, that is - have some concerns."

So here I am again, more fan art for another one of astolat's amazing story's. This one is Loki with Thor at his mercy!

Teasing can be frustrating, but it will all be worth it in the end - right?

“Bro?” you ask, reaching up to rap on his forehead with your knuckles. Somehow your hand just tangles itself all up in his fine-ass hair and you sort of yank and turn and then two of you are kissing. It’s sloppy and hot and awkward, the angle all wrong and neither one of you used to each other at all, but when he gets your lip between his dull choppers and bites until you’ll bruise it’s just about motherfucking perfect.

Kurt and Blaine figure out a way to make Blaine feel like he's getting the attention he needs even when Kurt is too busy to talk.

The body of the email just says, “don’t fuck seguin” because Jonny doesn’t know what capital letters are and he’s a controlling asshole even when he’s miles away, and attached to it is a spreadsheet that Patrick reluctantly opens. It’s color-coded with tabs and he’s not sure whether he wants to punch Jonny in the mouth or laugh in his face. Calling him in the middle of the airport is a really bad fucking idea and Patrick knows something about those, so he settles for sending Jonny a message. YOU SENT ME A JERK-OFF SCHEDULE FOR SWITZERLAND?!

Derek doesn’t get why he likes it so much. It’s just not -- he hadn’t expected to need this. Not from Stiles. Not from anyone, ever. He doesn’t do this. Except he does, now. Because it’s for Stiles, and Derek -- fuck, he likes it too.

Another kinkmeme story.

She hasn’t had a partner-assisted orgasm in over a week and a half, and she is just beyond done. She wants to lie down on the cold bathroom floor and cry. Derek is starting to look like a permanently kicked puppy. “Look,” she tells him after dinner, “I love your inner self and your personality or whatever, but can I just tie you up and use your body until I come a couple times?” Derek fumbles the sudsy glass in his hand. “Awesome!” Stiles says brightly.

Huh, was Tony's first thought when the spell broke and all of a sudden his brain came back online.

“I can’t,” Patrick says. “Not tonight.”

Rin asks Sousuke for a favour.

The last thing Stiles expects when he walks into Lydia’s exclusive S&M club is to rescue a sub who’s obviously been mistreated for a long time. His name is Derek, and when he awkwardly reaches out, asking Stiles to be his Dom, the urge to shield Derek from more pain is too strong for Stiles to resist. But Derek is still recovering from his past and learning how to set boundaries, so they have to take things slow.

doesn’t a glory hole sort of defeat the purpose of you being hot and blond and me wearing glasses? In which John has his first real homocrush and does stupid shit in effort to alleviate it.

As Peggy quite suddenly learned, Howard was not exactly clear about all the things Jarvis was prepared to do for her.

Dorian rolls onto his side to face him, squinting in the mid-morning light. "You wanted to talk, last night. So talk." "Mm, not like this." Bull cracks his neck, stretches his free arm above his head. Dorian doesn't even pretend he's not watching the muscles shift in Bull's shoulder. "You don't talk about sex in bed."

“Good boy,” she murmurs against his throat. He goes impossibly still – she’s got enough time to think huh before she’s fast asleep. The next day it feels like a dream, the way that the sweet memories from childhood go hazy and glow at the unravelled edges, so she wouldn’t even notice it if—well. If she weren’t impossibly in love with him. But she is. So she notices.

I love dogs. I've always loved dogs. The post-credit scene you can't take your kids to see.

Stiles has to perform some kind of protection spell/ritual to stop the latest threat to BH, but according to Deaton and his terrible, terrible magic books, it requires that he willingly take the ‘life essence’ of an alpha within him so he can power the spell. Yep, semen, because druids were giant pervs back in the day. And apparently that shit is like a magical battery.

Is it even possible for penises to develop Stockholm syndrome?

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.

The Iron Bull watched Cullen from the beginning, but it took time for Cullen to let himself be seen. After all, he'd become so good at denying what he wanted that he never learned how to take what he needed. “Half the lasses and lads in Haven have spent weeks trying to figure out how to make you blush. I just happen to be better than them at finding and exploiting the cracks in people’s armor.” “That’s rather ironic, given how little of it you actually wear.” “Are you kidding? That’s one of my best strategies. When people think that they can see everything about you already, they don’t worry so much about protecting their own weak spots.”

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

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

As Peggy quite suddenly learned, Howard was not exactly clear about all the things Jarvis was prepared to do for her.

Dorian keeps waiting for everything to fall apart. Bull has a better idea.

Dorian is a mechanic in the modern city of Skyhold. Iron Bull and his Chargers are a motorcycle gang. What more do you need to know to click on this story?

There is nothing The Bull loves more than doing this to Dorian. Laying him out, tying him down so he can’t move, and just pleasuring him until he’s out of his mind with it.

My MCU fanart. And to challenge myself, I'm writing a ficlet to go with every single piece.

You are being the best boyfriend right now, right, and you're not even appropriating that word because you're only using it in your head instead of saying it out loud where Kankri could get upset. And it better be worth it, because you are so uncomfortable.

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.

"I ain't opposed to getting my wetware wet," she says. You think you could almost make out the words just from the movements of her lips against your ear, and that gets all down your spine even as part of you writhes in annoyance at a seadweller without any modifications beyond the cosmetic using the word wetware. Fuck it, it's still hot.

In which Sanji and Ace are models for a BDSM site and Law’s the new guy doing his first shoot (Dom!Ace, sub!Sanji-and-Law, Ace/Law/Sanji in all combinations)

Stiles gets a workout.

Sid had been simmering all day and now he was ebullient, a full boil, about to spill over. set after the October 12th, 2013 Lightning game

I took five prompts on Tumblr for Levi/Erwin BDSM scenes. Each one's five hundred words. Hope you like them! Title is from T.E. Lawrence's 'Seven Pillars of Wisdom.' As Lawrence is the model for Erwin's appearance, it seemed appropriate.

Wufei is made to watch and wait.

The order's not a hard one: stay still, and stay quiet. It's an order he's had before, more times than he can count. This time, he even has an end goal: two hundred pages. It seems doable. Two hundred pages isn't that long, right? Prompto's just got to hang in there until Gladio finishes his book.

There should be something horrifying about that. If he hadn't had his friends with him, Prompto'd be dead already, or at least some writhing, mindless daemon-snack-to-be, waiting to be eaten. Instead, the recollection of the incubus' skin, smooth and pale and flawless, sends a rush of want spearing through him. Well. So much for the spell not working.

An elegant hand cups the side of Prompto’s jaw, gently – slides around to below his chin, to tip his face up. Then Ignis is leaning down to kiss Prompto stupid, not that it takes much. Just an insinuating glance in his direction is enough to make Prompto feel like his brains are melting out his ears. When Iggy actually sets hands on him? That’s it, game over. RIP rational thought. Prompto’s still not sure what the smartest, sexiest, most incredibly put-together man he’s ever laid eyes on sees in him, but hey. He’s not complaining. He’ll take whatever he can get, for as long as it lasts.

"Specs has the spare," Noct breathes, and Prompto, eyes wide with terror, vaults off him and to the other corner of the couch. He yanks the throw blanket off the couch's back and onto his lap, not an instant too soon. Because the door clicks open and then there's Ignis, toeing off his shoes and stepping into the entryway. "Good evening," he says, pleasant and mild. "Hey," Noct answers, pretending at indifference. "Hi," squeaks Prompto, face a remarkable shade of red.

Prompto's never really alone anymore, and mostly, he's just fine with that. Mostly, it's exactly what he's always wanted. Only, his friends happen to be stupidly attractive. Like really, ridiculously, unfairly attractive. Strangers on the street actively stare at Gladio without a shirt on. Ignis wears sock garters, smooths them up his slender calves every morning like it's no big deal. Noct somehow doesn't realize that when he wades into the water to pull a fish out, white t-shirt on, the cloth plasters right up against his skin, almost see-through. So yeah. Prompto likes that he's never really alone anymore. But he's also never really alone anymore, and the approximately hundred thousand awkward boners he gets every single day languish in his jeans, untended.

Who'd been dead set on keeping Prompto from getting distracted during combat, after he got hurt one time too many? Noct. Who'd suggested the consequences? Noct. Who'd been dumb enough to think it was sexy instead of really, really stupid? Prompto.

When Nie Huaisang gets paired with straight porn star Jiang Cheng for a five-part series, he’s sure it will be an utter disaster. Until the cameras start rolling and their chemistry alights like wildfire. (Or, the five times Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng have sex for their job, and the first time they have sex outside of it.)

“Let’s play a game,” Xingchen says. Song Lan and Xue Yang share a look.

Lan Zhan just has a really great rack. Her boobs are huge, and Wei Wuxian has wanted to get her mouth on them since pretty much the moment she first met her. This is not new information. What is new information is that Lan Zhan, of all people, has her nipples pierced. Wei Wuxian knows this now, because she saw them last week, and her brain has been running at about fifty percent capacity since, because how is she supposed to think about anything else?