In a world where partnerships between Dominants and Submissives take place under the watchful jurisdiction of The Institute of Designation, Charles Xavier is a kindly, cardigan-wearing Dom who opposes many elements of the official system. Meanwhile, Erik Lehnsherr's past has taught him to struggle against his Submissive inclinations. When the two are placed together by the Institute, Charles has to find a balance between his conscience and his desires, whilst trying to teach a conflicted Erik that surrender doesn't have to mean defeat...

Rodney and John have been in a relationship for years, despite all the difficulties that arise when two subs with no dominant tendencies try to have a relationship. When Jennifer Keller arrives on Atlantis, the two of them decide that things are going to change.

Megamind still has some important life lessons to learn. Roxanne is once again here to help.

Smutty, kinky, threesome slash.

In which Clint takes a leap of faith in more ways than one.

Clint and Coulson become sparring partners when it's clear Clint needs a new challenge. Clint is not prepared for the results.

Tony wants to see Steve break a sweat; it just takes one hell of a workout.

After the events of The Avengers movie, Bruce Banner moves into the new Stark-Potts tower in downtown Manhattan. Then things take a turn for the sexy/awesome/kinky. Tony/Pepper/Bruce. Not exactly PWP, but very smut-heavy as it goes along.

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."

Ronon watches over Bruce and Logan because Sheppard asks him to do so. Bruce and Tony like having Ronon around. Smut ensues, lots of slashy smut.

Gamzee sits there all to grinning, because he gets this by now, he does: Equius says Do you want me to when he means I fucking want to so bad I can't fucking stand it, like getting all close to what he wants would make it snap like one of his motherfucking robots. Seems like, if you pity a brother with a hangup like that, about the only motherfucking thing to do is take the decisions right the fuck out of his strong hands.

Bro makes a show of snorting, of relaxing his stance. His heart is still in his throat. His kids, his kids, someone almost took his kids. Someone did, and the only reason they didn't get away with it has nothing to do with him, nothing, and everything with that rabid weasel who won't. Step. Off. His balls. -- Pretty much as the title says.

You're going to leave the toybox in the closet tonight, because you are fairly certain that you can ruin him six ways to Sunday without even a pair of fuzzy handcuffs to back you up, and you really don't want to give the poor guy an aneurysm or something.

Dirk laughs, presses his lips to the sweat-drenched nape of your neck, lets his teeth scrape the skin. "Don't worry, babe, I'm not going to leave you hanging. I've got something special for you. Get up."

Karkat has gone really still. He opens his mouth. Closes his mouth. Opens his mouth-- "No. On second thought, no. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking when I said I would do this. I have never had even the slightest desire to do this." "Uh," John says. "Okay?"

John discovers a new and MUCH more entertaining way to fill his prankster's gambit.

This isn't a thing Equius does; surrendering to impulses is for other people. He has always been one to measure, to strategize, to rein himself in as best he can. It was a necessity. Even his liaisons to satisfy the drones were more matters of negotiation and restraint than unbridled passion, adequate but not exceptional. But as Strider follows him out of the hangar and down the corridor, it's all Equius can do not to turn on him, not to attack him right there, not to pin him to the wall with hands around his throat and knee between his thighs.

CG: I'VE SPENT ALL AFTERMIDNIGHT PACING UP AND DOWN MY NEW BLOCK IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR. THE ONLY REASON I HAVEN'T YET PACED MY WAY TROUGH THE WHOLE SHIP IS THAT IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE FUCKING ERIDAN. CG: WHADDYA THINK OF A CAPE? DOUCHEY, RIGHT? CT: D--> I would most strenuously advise against it. It would only obstruct the sharp lines guiding the eye to the waist of your exquisitely tailored jacket. CG: YEAH, I LIKE HOW THE JACKET CUTS SHORT RIGHT OVER THE TIGHTEST WHITE PANTS KNOWN TO TROLLKIND TOO. BE A SHAME TO HIDE THAT. CT: D--> That wasn't CT: D--> I mean CT: D--> I was merely admiring the craftsmanship. CG: YEAH, THAT KIND OF SKILL IS WORTH BEING ADMIRED. I SWEAR TO FUCK THERE'S AN ASS-LIFTING TRICK SEWN RIGHT IN. BUTT-WONDERBRA. MY TUSH IS ALREADY PRETTY GOOD USUALLY BUT DEAR LORD, *I'D* DO ME.

Kurt and Puck both have dreams of dominance and submission, but they never expected to run into each other at a Marketplace auction in New York City. Spoilers through season 4. Crossover with Laura Antoniou's Marketplace universe. Top!Kurt, Dom/sub, discipline. Written for the Puckurt Fic I Didn't Write Game.

eridan is so tolerable when he can't talk

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.

Derek finally works up the courage to ask for something, and Stiles is more than willing to help. (Or the one where Derek and Stiles have been together for years and have a relationship based on mutual love, trust, and respect.)

Geno had arrived in Pittsburgh looking every minute of the nineteen hour flight from Helsinki, plus however long he’d been in transit between there and his run from the KHL. Sid had been standing next to Mario, watching the new arrival expectantly, even though he didn’t think Geno was a threat. The other wolf had spent too much time negotiating on his own behalf to be allowed into another pack’s territory, and even more to be allowed to play with the team. But all the same, new wolves made Sidney antsy. Written for the multi-fandom Werewolf Big Bang.

Sidney Crosby has a problem, Jonathan Toews helps him solve it.

Does this even warrant a description? It's exactly what it says in the tags.

Karkat takes his time; this trick he has learned from several drill sergeants and then from being a drill sergeant, and learned well. When you're not sure what the fuck to do with a subordinate, take your time thinking it out. There is almost no way they will notice you're completely lost at sea: they'll be too busy freaking out. It's a technique he could have used more of when he was a kid. He really has no idea what to do with the guy. -- Sequel to Uniform Kink, a pesterlog/cybersex fic in which Karkat accidentally gets Equius hot under the collar with mentions of the uniform that comes with his promotion, and then decides to run with it. -- Now with Equius POV epilogue! 2000% more fluff.

Carts acts all shocked about Mike being willing to live with him, which, seriously. "Where did you pick up this idea that I'm a douchebag?" demands Mike. "If anything, you should be the one skeeved out about living with a dom." Carts snorts. "I've built up an immunity to your skeeviness." "Then we don't have a problem," says Mike. "Come on, Arnold's gonna flip his shit."

Geno had arrived in Pittsburgh looking every minute of the nineteen hour flight from Helsinki, plus however long he’d been in transit between there and his run from the KHL. Sid had been standing next to Mario, watching the new arrival expectantly, even though he didn’t think Geno was a threat. The other wolf had spent too much time negotiating on his own behalf to be allowed into another pack’s territory, and even more to be allowed to play with the team. But all the same, new wolves made Sidney antsy.

The third time, Stiles says, “You’re such a good boy,” while Derek’s quivering at his feet. It’s kind of tentative; his voice rising at the end like it’s a question, but the sound Derek makes in response…oh my God. And now Stiles really understands. He gets it.

"Um. I don't know if you noticed, but sometimes I make bad choices about who to trust." Crow tipped his head neutrally. "So that's not my job anymore," Patrick said. "The making choices part. I still do the trusting part. I'm good at that." Or, as described by Petra, the story where Kaner is "like a therapy puppy on a leash, humping people's legs an making them smile."

Sometimes a bubble bath and a glass of wine are exactly the wrong way to wind down.

"Hold still," Stiles says, hand clamping down on the back of Derek's neck to keep him from turning and it's laughable, really – the thought that that would be enough to hold him. Except it is. Because Stiles' fingers are gripping the nape of Derek's neck, pressure sure and hard and Derek- Derek can't fucking breathe.

From the Avengers Kink Meme: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/11065.html?thread=24876857#t24876857 "So Clint is Phil's sub. And he's stubborn and insolent and gets in trouble fairly often. He's always implying that he and Phil are really hardcore, and after a rough patch where he gets punished a lot, his friends start to worry for his safety. In fact, Clint is the gooiest, subbiest sub that ever subbed with Phil, who is incredibly gentle with him and heavy on the pampering and praise. Clint basically lives to be petted and told what a good boy he is, and his punishments are things like timeouts and very light spankings with Phil calmly telling him how disappointed he is in him, which is enough to bring Clint to sobbing contrition. So I guess there's some voyeurism or something, I just want this dynamic and the world at large seeing a radically different one. All the bonus points for some compare/contrast with Pepper and Natasha who are outwardly nearly vanilla when in fact they do crazy edgeplay and heavy pain and just don't tell anyone about it."

In which John has his first real homocrush and does stupid shit in effort to alleviate it. (extra:topodfic applies to the first 2 fics in the series)

Stiles accidentally finds a trunk full of Derek's professional dom gear from when he lived in New York. They don't talk about it. Then Stiles turns eighteen, and they do.

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.

Derek goes away to deal with a hostile rival pack, and Stiles calls him up to settle his nerves. “Ah, you feeling a bit stressed out big guy?” “Yes,” he says, voice raspy. “It’s okay. I’m going to take care of you right now."

As the base's resident expert on human culture, Sam had fumbled his way through some pretty awkward conversations, but even he didn't feel up to tackling the questions Bee would have once he learned that his best friend had somehow developed a fetish for alien robots.

Clint Barton -- subby, ex-carnie white trash, spy -- isn't the kind of guy Captain America goes for. Nobody informed Captain America of this.

The trading cards and the costume redesign are Steve's first clues, but he doesn't recognize them at the time; he's too new to the world, too angry at it, too busy fighting a war.

In an alternate universe where everyone is either a Dom, a Switch, or a sub, the NHL is one of the few major sports that allows co-dynamic teams. Sidney Crosby, Patrick Kane, and the other hockey-playing subs are happy of this fact, but dealing with the stress of being a professional hockey player on top of the stress of being a sub in a Dom-dominated world brings more complications then most of them expected.

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.

Brian has hidden his submissive orientation most of his life out of necessity more than desire and he's been fine. Really. Until he meets Dominic Toretto then fine doesn't really fit the situation anymore. A BDSM-universe AU of The Fast and the Furious.

In a near canon world where orientation refers to dominance or submission, not sexuality, almost everyone has a soulmate that is supposed to complement their personality, biology, orientation and heart. Most people look forward to the day when the psionic bond sparks into existence, connecting them to their other halves. However, a trauma left Bob wanting anything but the bond he sees as a dangerous trap, and he takes matters in his own hands to chemically prevent his bond from effecting him. Patrick doesn't know what he did wrong but he knows that for some reason, his soulmate has rejected him and he has to learn to live with that. Between their pasts, their bands, and their hopes, neither of them expects end up where they do - so close with so much distance still between them.

Shawn goes undercover at a BDSM club and runs into Lassiter. He assumes Lassiter is undercover as well. He's wrong.

Tim never was one for sharing his plans with others.

Jason tilts his head and stares at the innocuous post it notes on his fridge.

"This is why you didn't tell me, isn't it," John said.

Tim doesn't need Kryptonite to control Kon in the bedroom.

"I asked you if you needed to hit me again. Because. In court, you said Sir, you said that you were going to." Levi blinked at him. He'd only told Eren he'd missed a spot.