You try to dress nice. How do you dress nice for a sex club? You have no fucking idea. But you've got the greaser cool guy look down pretty good, and you think it works for you. You wear your tightest t-shirt. You spend like fifteen minutes in front of the bedroom mirror trying to decide which pair of jeans is the most flattering for your glutes. This is your chance.

"I don't taunt you with relationships with other men. I have relationships with other men because you leave me unfulfilled and angry and ready to punch someone in the dick."

Good friends share. Lardo and Bitty are good friends.

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.

The last thing anyone expected was for the older twin to manifest Cloud Flames. (Or the one in which Tsuna is Xanxus' Cloud Guardian, flat-out terrifies anyone who's heard about him, has a younger brother who loves him, is possibly in a queerplatonic long-distance relationship with Hibari but will never admit it, and is the big brother you never knew you wanted in your life.)

Gokudera can't bring himself to compromise on some issues, even when he'd really like to. Having a sense of responsibility can be a real nightmare that way.

A year after high school, Sakura and Nozaki struggle to get Mikoshiba and Mayu to confess their feelings for each other.

“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.

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.

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.

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?

“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.)

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.

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

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.

The Washington Capitals part of the D/s AU.

“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.