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!

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."

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.

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.

Rin asks Sousuke for a favour.

Is it even possible for penises to develop Stockholm syndrome?

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.

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

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

“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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

Indulging oneself in pleasure is forbidden at the Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian doesn’t realize how serious they are about that rule until he’s sent to the cold springs, however. Alternatively, this is what it feels like to take Lan Wangji to pieces.

Lan Wangji is going to die. Lan Wangji is going to die, and it isn’t even a hyperbole; she is entirely ready to collapse in her seat like a marionette with its strings cut off. The vibrator inside her pulses, and Lan Wangji can barely stop herself from lurching forward and letting out a loud groan. She resists a glance at the row of seats behind her; she knows that Wei Ying is there, watching, and she isn’t entirely sure she isn’t going to come at the sight of Wei Ying’s lazy little smirk. Truly—the things Wei Ying has made her do—shameless. (or; Lan Wangji wears a vibrator to class at the behest of her fuckbuddy Wei Ying, and it ends up a lot hotter and more emotional for both of them.)

He didn’t know until this moment just how much he wanted Mingjue to ask for it—for anything—to take the reins Huaisang has been holding out for so long and pull them tight and demand.

It's been months since Jiang Cheng has last seen his lovers. To make up for it, he comes to Qinghe bearing a gift.

“It is fair.” Tang Fan says decisively, getting up, heading to the bedroom. “While I think about what kind of purchase that could make you act like this, you can think about whether it is worth keeping a secret.” or Sui Zhou goes on Tao/bao

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?!

Eddie yanked at the tentacles stringing him up, his mind and body alight with need, "Venom, please please please do that again, fuck –" I think you might need a little help remembering the terms of our agreement, Venom mused instead.

If a little fondness slips through, it apparently only makes Han Ying bolder. “Would you allow me to call you Valley Master, if we did?” Wen Kexing laughs under his breath at the brazen request, tipping Han Ying’s face back with two fingers beneath his chin. Narrows his eyes and looks down at him, assuming an air of cold indifference. “Are you a ghost, Han Ying?” “I could be,” Han Ying says quietly. “If you wanted me to be.”

When Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing stage an ambush to save Gao Chong and Zhang Chengling from Tian Chuang, they soon realize Wen Kexing has been poisoned, and only Han Ying can help him. Written for the following kink meme prompt: WKX gets hit by sex pollen or similar plot device that requires he get fucked but ZZS can't get it up because of the nails [...]

The Ghost Valley and Prince Jin's forces have been at war for a while now; but there was nothing to suggest the Valley was so close to infiltrating the palace. Nothing, until they were flooding the grounds and taking captives. Nothing, until the Ghost Valley Guzhu himself laid eyes on Zhou Zishu and deemed him a worthy prize. *Don't be a sore loser, Wangye. To the victor go the spoils.*

The package arrives the day after Sid gets back to Pittsburgh. Sid recognizes the discreet wrapping, and the lack of a return address is so obvious they might as well have printed Sex Toys R Us all over the damn box.

“I deserve to suffer.” “Sorry to hear American alphas aren’t good enough for your fussy little Russian asshole,” Seryozha says. “Now, stop pouting. Just because you think you need to suffer, doesn’t mean I’m going to suffer through all your drama with you. God knows you’re already insufferable enough on normal days.” Zhenya spends a few more seconds definitely Not pouting, no matter what the sullen purse of his lips might suggest.

Wilson and Latta and an omega in heat.

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

(2019) ... Jack isn't himself. He seems so miserable that Connor wants to smooth it out of his system, somehow, as if it's a physical thing. ... “If you... wanted something.” Connor asks. “Would you ask me for it?” “I’m working on it,” Jack says, so quietly that Connor almost misses it.

Connor’s still not really sure how to handle having this kind of reputation, about it spreading past the O.

But then Jordie puts his weight more heavily on top of him and something switches, and it’s like all the fear is draining out of Jamie’s body. His arms and legs and stomach go calm and floaty. Jordie’s heavy, but Jamie doesn’t feel the weight anymore. It just feels so good.

“Shower again.” Alex says, popping the top off his bottle and taking a long pull. He stares Dylan down while he does it, and fuck. That's not playing fair. “Why?” Dylan asks, because fuck, they need to talk about whatever is happening here. “Because I told you to.”