Stiles has a preference for written porn. He also has a thing for Derek's voice. So when Derek finds his erotica collection, this is clearly either the best or the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

His body had grown, not quite to full adulthood, but close enough. With that came things that didn’t quite add up for the young boy stuck living in it.

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.

Dave and Karkat have storytime with the trollmance novel. -If Dave isn’t going to get jolly over some fantasy troll getting eaten out, he is maybe going to get a little jolly over Karkat getting jolly over some fantasy troll getting eaten out.-

Some demons and otherworldly creatures love climbing up the power ladder. Shane is not one of these. He likes where he is (thank you very much) and has no interest in moving up. All he wants is to give his friend Ryan a nice birthday gift. So, naturally, everything goes to hell.

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.

“It’s just not manly to leave your bro like this, after knowing he can’t do anything about it, you know?” Kirishima blabbers some kind of bullshit excuse, and the worst part is that it looks like he’s totally convinced of it. “It’s just a— handjob,” he stumbles over the word, the weight of what he’s proposing hitting him all at once, but he doesn’t stop. “—but if you're not into it we can pretend I didn't just say that.” Bakugou has to restrain himself from saying that he’s very much into it. Like, a lot, really. a.k.a Kirishima learns the reason behind Bakugou's grumpiest days, and he offers to help because that's what best bros do.

It's been a reasonably quiet night thus far, enough so that Peter's well ahead of the game on his usual patrol route, nothing really pinging his radar until he reached this quiet strip of apartment buildings. Only now that he's here, he can't figure out where the danger's coming from, or even what his senses are classifying as danger this time. There's got to be something, though...right?

Ever since he’d come out to his devout Roman Catholic family, Johnny had been told he was going to Hell. Seeing Simon “Ghost” Riley on his knees in front of him, looking like Lust incarnate, has him thinking Hell suits him far better than Heaven anyway. His blonde hair catches the fluorescents like a halo, and Johnny now knows exactly what the legends meant when they said the devil has angelic eyes. OR: Johnny needs proof that the aphrodisiac drug sample they're retrieving is real, so he tests it the only way he can with the resources he has: on himself. It's real, alright - he figures that out pretty quick.

Damian has never experienced sexual attraction in the way a majority of the populace does, but he's never been one to let himself miss out on anything. He's also not someone who has any interest in having another person touch him. The solution? Simply doing it himself.