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.

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.

In order to save his home, The Iron Bull returns to work as a professional Dom for a company known only as Inquisition. Dorian Pavus, known by the code name of Urthemiel within the Inqusition's carefully guarded walls, is considered a difficult client, and placed with The Iron Bull in the hopes that he can help. Together, they build something better than they were before.

"Fifty for an hour," Steve tells her. "Sixty for my mouth." Steve sells the only thing he’s got left and Natasha's buying. She’s not the only one.

“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.

Really, Robb doesn't mind that Theon wants everyone to think he tops. He probably should, but he loves Theon too much for it to be a problem. He does have one problem though: That Theon won't.