#Structural Integrity Concerns | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alchemistc · 2 months ago

Text

if the sky comes falling down

Bobby's first in the door, once Tommy's cleared for visitors, and rather than the groggy look he's expecting, Tommy looks spitting mad.

It's a first, for Tommy, the most even-keeled of his team. Bobby's been waiting for the monster to break loose for a while. Knows that glimmer behind the eyes Tommy's been blinking away for two years every time a man raises his voice in a way that doesn't seem to have an end.

"Tommy," Bobby says, softly, like he's soothing a skittish deer, and Tommy leaps towards the oncoming headlights.

It's only after the fact that Bobby clocks the significance of Tommy feeling unafraid to let Bobby have it.

"It's like you're fucking cursed. I was fine. I was good. I was thinking of telling Hen I was ending things with Abby because -." Even here he shows restraint. They have him on a drip, still hooked up to machines because they're afraid of clotting, one side of his face is black and bruised, and Tommy still holds back whatever the end of that particular sentence was.

Bobby knows this anger. Had spent a month quietly livid with Tommy for pulling him back from the brink, there in that howling cavern of a flaming crib crashing through an unstable floor.

"You had to say something. You couldn't just leave it alone, and now I -." Tommy gestures at his leg.

Bobby hadn't seen the propane tank, or the blast that knocked Tommy back twenty feet into a retaining wall. Hadn't clocked the terrible structural integrity of the catwalk above them until the impact of Tommy knocked it loose and sent metal beams crashing to the ground.

"I'm not arguing your right to be angry with me, Tommy. But this seems to be about something besides the three weeks they're requiring you to wear a brace."

He'd gotten off lucky. They all had, but Tommy especially, who'd hit the wall and been knocked clean out. He hadn't been awake to brace for the falling beams, and so, like a drunk flying through a windshield after killing a family of four, coming out with only a few scrapes and bruises, the only concern besides the concussion is the knee that had been overextended when seventy pounds of metal crashed down on Tommy.

Tommy's look is one of the more vulnerable ones he's seen. Still skittish, still terrified, still angry, but tinged with doubt now.

"Harbor's not gonna let me in a bird while I'm rehabbing a knee, Nash."

No Cap, no Bobby. He's just refocused the anger into a sharper point.

"You told me you were only considering it," Bobby says, and Tommy snorts, his expression slightly feral, a caged animal in all its glory.

"I've had the paperwork hiding under my passenger seat for a month now, ready to give you."

That's - honestly a surprise to Bobby. He'd brought it up once, left the paperwork in Tommy's duffle after being stonewalled upon bringing it up, and neither of them had mentioned it from that point on. Tommy was a stubborn asshole when he wanted to be. Bobby'd expected to wait it out at least another six months.

The prayer beads around his wrist clack together in the pocket Bobby shoved his hand in. Tommy clocks the noise and scowls. "God's not gonna heal a bum knee before Harbor fills their open position," he spits.

Bobby sucks in his lips. Tries to think of a way to frame this without making Tommy more angry. "There was never an opening, at Harbor. I very much lied about that."

Tommy goes silent, still.

"When I reached out to Melton, it took him all of five minutes to decide he could fit a former Army pilot into his roster regardless of whether or not he had the room. The position is yours the moment you decide you're ready."

The stare down is intense. It goes on for a while. Bobby fingers the beads in his pocket and wonders if his punishment is reaching out in new directions to wrap its claws around Bobby's team.

Tommy rolls his jaw. "Could have led with that," he says, words laced with ire, and Bobby feels the temperature in the room lower about twenty degrees.

His grin is wry. "You'd have told me where to shove it and burned the paperwork I left you."

Tommy tips his head back and forth like he's weighing the scales of staying mad at Bobby. He seems to decide on the path of least resistance, and Bobby is briefly annoyed with him for not continuing to pick a fight. He hasn't even questioned the believability of Bobby's statement, like despite himself he still trusts Bobby at his word.

"I'm gonna need a ride to PT," Tommy says, and Bobby takes it for the olive branch it is.

Bobby's brow lifts, and Tommy groans as he pulls himself up the bed.

"The fiance thing wasn't working out for me," he confesses, like he expects Bobby to have known that, about him, as well. Tommy keeps a tight lip about his personal life. Bobby's watched him flirt with one of the officers who keeps popping up with Athena Grant on scenes. If Tommy's not ready to be known, Bobby isn't going to mention it.

"We'll figure something out," Bobby tells him, and Tommy's smile turns wry.

"You always seem to."

It's damnation and praise all at once. Bobby doesn't want to overstay his welcome. "Chimney's been chomping at the bit to see you. We should let him in before he starts harassing nurses."

Tommy's smile goes soft. "Gotta make sure I didn't ruin his handiwork."

They've all saved each other's lives, at some point. Just because Bobby would prefer to have been left out of that doesn't mean he doesn't respect it. He squeezes the calf closest to him. Watches the way Tommy's gaze holds steady on that hand for a long, long moment.

He's halfway out the door when Tommy calls out. "Cap?"

Back to Cap, already. Tommy's capacity for holding on to anger seems to be dropping.

When Bobby turns back to him, he's halfway through a mental grocery list - meals he can package up and send to Tommy for that first week on rest while still feeding his team while they're down a man.

He's going to need to start scouting recruits.

"Your regional colloquialisms are gonna go over most people's heads, out here," Tommy reminds him, and Bobby's still laughing when he shakes Chimney awake in the visitors area just outside Tommy's room.

#911 fic #bobby & tommy #tommy kinard #bobby nash #thinking lots of thoughts about the way bobby changed his team

325 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 7 months ago

Note

hi mae! i was wondering if you could write a poly jily and reader where jily makes sure christmas is absolutely amazing for reader? i’ve never been a fan of christmas bc of personal experiences and i feel like jily would be so into Christmas and spread the joy.

I hope this is what you're looking for! Don't mind the sappiness <3

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

James and Lily have sweet-talked you into wearing an apron. With red hearts and lipstick marks printed all over it, it could belong to either one of them; your partners both tend to don aprons anytime they’re cooking or baking, and they each have their own small collection. Sometimes, you suspect this has less to do with concern for their clothes and more to do with the fact that they simply like wearing them. You’ve caught James wearing his Kiss the Cook apron while making scrambled eggs once.

This time, you have to admit, the aprons are probably necessary.

“James,” Lily chides, “our roof can’t support all that weight.”

James makes a derisive noise, situating another gumdrop on his side of the roof. “It’s a rather shoddily made roof then, isn’t it?”

“It’s made of biscuit,” you point out. “Not generally considered the sturdiest building material, I don’t think.”

You and Lily are sharing one side of your gingerbread house, James’ decorating frenzy too chaotic for either of you to try adding anything to the other portion. It is looking quite beautiful, with candy canes poking out of the chimney, intricate frosting trim on the windows, and now a gumdrop-tiled roof, but your overeager boyfriend seems to have forgotten to account for the structural integrity of the house.

“What if we just lined the roof with gumdrops?” Lily suggests gently.

“Yeah,” you agree, “or we could set them on the base, they could be bushes or something.”

James frowns. “You two are squashing my creativity. Next thing I know you’ll be putting me back on icicle duty.”

Lily bites her lip, venturing a look at you.

“You are the best at it…” you say guiltily. “What if you did that for a while, just until we catch up? That way we can make sure the roof holds everything before we add more.”

James scoffs, but his glare is good-natured. “Tyrants,” he says, picking up the bag of icing again. You lean over to kiss his cheek in apology.

James really is excellent with the icicles. He makes perfect icing drips all along the edge of your roof, varied in size and shape, while Lily decorates your side of the roof and you work on making a welcoming front door.

As the holiday season approached, you sort of dreaded celebrating with James and Lily. You love them, of course, but they’re both so festive; and while that’s great for them, you weren’t eager to be dragged into their Christmas cheer—or, more accurately, to drag their Christmas cheer down with you. You’re just not much for Christmas these days. All the films bring back memories you’d rather forget, the pressure of gift giving overwhelms you, and the foods leave a bad taste in your mouth. So while you weren’t necessarily resistant to their suggestions of holiday fun, you made your reluctance known. But you have to admit this is sort of fun.

The radio plays in the next room, the local station running only Christmas music now that it’s well and truly December. No one looking outside could deny it. A powdery dusting of snow covers the grass outside and icicles dangle from above your kitchen window like you’re looking out from inside the very house James is decorating now.

He bends over as he works, a concentrated squint about his eyes and glasses slipping slowly down the bump of his nose. His apron is his favorite one, already smeared with a seemingly impossible amount of red and white icing: Santa’s sleigh led by a stag instead of Rudolph. Lily embroidered it for him as a gift two Christmasses ago. Your girlfriend’s apron is simpler, a bright red that makes her hair look more orange by contrast and brings out her slight flush. The apples of Lily’s cheeks shine in the light of the kitchen, the side of her nose smeared with a white streak of icing you and James have silently agreed not to mention until the opportune moment.

“This is nice,” you say, softly. You’re wary of getting your partners’ hopes up, but you want to express some gratitude for all they’re doing to make your Christmas a happy one.

“For you, sure,” James grumbles. “I’m stuck on icicles.” But his put-upon pique gives way quickly, warm lips pressing to your cheek. “Glad you’re having fun.”

Lily’s smiling, too. “If you really like it, we could do more sometime. Maybe make a little village.”

“Spare some time for the rest of the activities,” James objects. “We haven’t even had a chance to go ice skating yet, and at this rate all the best spots will have melted before we do. Not,” he says, turning somewhat contrite as he looks at you, “that we couldn’t use the time for more gingerbread houses if you wanted to, lovie.”

You laugh, squeezing Lily’s elbow in silent thanks for the look she’d send James on your behalf. “That’s okay,” you say. “We can do different things.”

“Oh, good.” James looks relieved. “Because there’s still the lights to put up outside, and a party to plan, and we’ve only so many days left in the year, girls.”

“James!” Lily’s expression pinches with horror as one side of the roof, which James had sneakily resumed work on, begins sliding off the top of the house.

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” He holds it up desperately. You rush to help, you keeping the slat in place while he tries to glue it back on with icing. “We’ve got it, darling, don’t worry.”

“Don’t bring her into your mistake,” Lily laughs, still looking shocked as she watches the roof slip in your hold. “I told you what would happen if you kept putting those gumdrops on there! They’re too heavy.”

“Alright, that’s it.” James lets go of the roof. Hesitantly, you follow his lead, letting the whole thing slide down the side of the house. James advances on your girlfriend, grin poorly repressed. “I’ve had just about enough of your criticisms.”

“I wouldn’t be criticizing if you were doing it right!” Lily has the good sense to dodge your boyfriend, but James is faster, catching her by her arms and tugging her close.

Lily makes a quiet squeak as James holds her face in his strong hands, keeping her still while he kisses the icing off her nose. She can’t help giggling, now, begrudgingly in love, her hands winding around his neck. You laugh, too, watching them.

James keeps one hand on her face to point the other at you. ��Laugh all you want, but you’re next,” he promises.

You can’t find it in yourself to dread the threat.

344 notes · View notes

thesiltverses · 4 months ago

Note

Hello! Apologies in advance for the long ask. I'm currently writing an essay for a rhetoric class and I'm analyzing TSV via American Indigenous theory on bordertowns (written by Nick Estes et al) and I was wondering if you had any comments to make that I could use in my writing. I'm discussing:

- the relationship of voluntary sacrifice and implicit faith in the system in TSV versus the involuntary and violent sacrifice of Native land and blood to uphold capitalism

- the similarities between illegal faiths who must be kept in line to maintain order and peace and the Native tribes who are policed militantly both inside and outside the reservation to maintain order and peace in settler society

-the difference between liberal methods of reform (Shrue) revolution and fighting fire with fire (Woundtree) and the end solution of refusing the basis of society and leaving altogether

I'm curious on if you had considered the relationship between the saints and people of color (specifically Indigenous tribes in settler societies like US, Canada, Australia and NZ) when making TSV or if that was largely unintentional? I enjoy that the Linger Straits and the Peninsula are based heavily on settler society mentality and culture, but that the colonization comes from within via the people and the land. Just curious on if you had any comment on Indigeneity as it relates to the Silt Verses, or anything else that stands out to you.

Sounds like a really fascinating essay! Uh, OK, let me try my best here.

We absolutely did consider thematic relationships between saints/sacrifices and communities of colour, but I think our primary influence was probably the treatment of migrant workers within wealthier nations who are made integral supports to some key internal function - whether that's domestic help in an upper-class household or social care or construction while also being horrifically exploited (and viewed with contempt, treated as abject and unwanted in their suffering and poverty, etc) on the basis of their outsidership. They are brought into the heart of things while remaining perpetually outside; becoming both pariahs and martyrs at once.

That slippery relationship and ultimately unwinnable choice between insidership and outsidership for the powerless (remain an outsider and be despised and destroyed; become an insider and be exploited and consumed) is I think a big concern in the show, and something that I definitely think it'd be very valid to apply as a parallel to experiences of indigeneity in America, as you have.

I personally wouldn't compare the illegal faiths of the setting to indigenous communities under settler colonialism (mostly because I think we come down pretty firmly on the side that the illegal faiths like the Parish of Tide and Flesh are equally awful and that they've always perpetuated the same monstrosities and exploitative power structures as everyone else, in almost exactly the same way as everyone else - they've now just ended up on the wrong side of the story.)

For me the Parish is most comparable to something like the rebels of Hereward the Wake in the English Fens, who may have partly inspired Robin Hood. A local resistance movement out in the marshlands against foreign Norman invaders, made up of Anglo-Saxons who'd been the foreign invaders against the Britons just a couple of hundred years earlier but could now be mythologised in turn as heroic nativist defenders against a colonial power.

The oppressor, when under any kind of attack, gratefully embraces the consolation of reimagining themselves as a plucky oppressed underdog and cleansing themselves of any historical sins. (This is a very English thing, we do it all the time.)

248 notes · View notes

tj-crochets · 1 year ago

Text

Sometimes a pattern just grabs your attention and you have to make like half a dozen or so of them before it's out of your system for a while I'm making at least three more of these and I'll make drawstring pouches using the scraps :D The next ones are ravens and teal, moths and gold, and rainbow and blue. Well, rainbow or sunflowers? That one is for my mom. I might go patchwork??? Idk yet

Beetle bag! Bag of beetles!!!

This might be my favorite one yet, I love how these fabrics look together and this beetle print is just fantastic

#sewing #handmade #beetles #beetle fabric #bug warning #not real bugs! but they bug some people so warning for them #I am concerned about the patchwork affecting the structural integrity of the bag #but I might use the scrappy patchwork add batting and just quilt the crap out of it #it's just a 20“ by 16.5” rectangle? I could quilt it before I sew the lining in #iron the seam allowance towards the canvas and topstitch it down from the outside #it's not the most practical option but my mom is not the most practical person

74 notes · View notes

ronanlynchdefender · 1 year ago

Text

The political stances of The Raven Cycle characters are so fascinating to me. You got Blue over here who is very much a progressive activist in the making. She recognizes things like misogyny and is not afraid to call those things out even when it concerns her closest friends. Because of that, I definitely see her as the type of activist who would be in the front lines at protests whether that be at the Capitol, college campuses, at the border, or as is the case in the dreamer trilogy, tied to a tree. She is the type of person who demands change in our current system and would demand it loudly and through acts of protest or civil disobedience.

Then you have Adam who displays no strong desire to change the system and whose only desire is to rise up in that system. He wants to climb the social ladder and assimilate to those of higher social status which is partially why he envies Gansey so much in the beginning because Gansey was born into it. Adam still tries to do this in the dreamer trilogy by essentially pretending to be a Gansey-like figure while at Harvard despite hating it. Eventually, Adam gives up on trying to belong within this higher social class and "climbing the ladder" but then strangely enough becomes a fed, which means just integrating into another form of hierarchy and power structure. And I feel like a more interesting arc would've been rejecting being a part of these societal systems altogether.

Which I suppose now leads us to Ronan who is a literal anarchist. He actually rejects all societal systems and rules and it permeates every aspect of his life. But actually, I shouldn't say all because there is one societal institution which he does enjoy partaking in: religion. With the exception of his catholicism, he does not engage in any other societal institution: education, law, politics. He hates it, in fact, It is antithetical to his being which is what makes his characterization so perfect because of course a gay farmer god would hate oppressive rules and structures (except for religion). That's not even mentioning that he is a canonical ecoterrorist that cost the US government a billion dollars. But what is really interesting about his character (and where his and Blue's political stances differ) is that because he rejects these systems he has no interest or stake in changing them. He'd sooner tear down the system than try to reform it.

And then there’s Gansey who doesn't seem to engage in politics and would rather spend his days reading his little Welsh books and going on his fun adventures. Of course, he is able to do this largely because he has the privilege to not worry about politics or social class. It seems that Blue's influence changes this as they are both chaining themselves to trees in protest during the dreamer trilogy. Other than that, I don't really have a lot to say about Gansey and his politics. But I find it very interesting that Maggie has created this close-knit group of characters with such varying relationships to how they view politics and social structures. I tried to draw out a 2-axis grid to show their differences, but I don't know if it really works because I feel like Gansey kinda screws it up but nevertheless I like how they each represent different ends of a spectrum sort of.

#the raven cycle #trc #adam parrish #ronan lynch #gansey #blue sargent #trc meta

453 notes · View notes

chiquita99 · 8 months ago

Text

Prison Life Can Be Tough**

Summary: You are known as the wife of Michael Scofield. Unfortunately many people in your prison have a hate for him but you are the closest they can get to him. Michael fights for your survival.

⚠️ warnings ⚠️ None

_____________________________________

"Prison life can be tough" the warden states as she rises from her desk and walks to face Scofield.

Michael has his hands on his hips in a thinking matter.

"If I remember correctly, you have two missing toes that can attest to that" She stated.

"You're not listening to my words. Y/N is NOT SAFE HERE" Michael shouts and glares at the she warden dressed in a suit.

He regains composure and continues in a more calm tone.

"Please" he sighs, "please just approve the transfer to another facility. Too many people here have a hit for me and Y/N shouldnt receive that punishment".

The warden makes a face and replies "If I grant her a transfer, everybody's gonna want one".

Michael quickly tosses another option out "What about segregrated housing?"

The warden looks at him peculiarly and advances like predator to prey, "Is there something that I should know about the structural integrity of SHU?".

Michael scoffs in annoyance "I see where this is going".

"I know who you are. And I'm not going to let you turn my prison into the next Fox River" She tells him in a stone cold tone.

"All I'm trying to do, is keep my wife alive. Someone tried to posion her today and have you seen what marks are on her face" he replies and takes a step forward just as she did, "You do know she's pregnant".

"I don't care" she replies just as coldly.

Michael looks away in disbelief.

"In case I haven't made myself clear--Y/N Y/L/N is not getting any preferential treatment" the warden says as a final statement.

[Later]

"Hey baby" Michael smiles as you sit in the chair across from him at the conjugal table.

"Hi my love" you respond.

Michael focuses on the bruising that's on your face.

He raises his hand to your cheek and gently strokes where a nasty red mark sits.

You close your eyes and sigh.

Sigh in relief he is here but also at how unfortunate events have turned out in here.

"I'm sorry this is happening to you" he tells you, not being able to look away from the beating evident on your face.

"It is what it is" you respond.

Michael watches you bring the back of your hand to your mouth. It felt like you had to burp or vomit.

You close your eyes, focusing on something different than how you are feeling right now.

"What is it?" Michael questioned with concern.

"Only nausea" you tell him, "I think it's my stress and the baby".

"I understand baby" he says and puts his hand ontop of yours on the table.

"Anyone who touches you, will lose a lot more than they bargain for" Michael says gruffly.

"Don't be like that Michael. There's no good in both of us incarcerated" you tell him, one hand on your nauseous stomach.

"I'm getting you out of here" he whispers and squeezes your one hand firmly.

You scoff in frustration.

"What did I just say Michael" you tell him.

"We will dissappear in Dominican Republic and you can finish your pregnancy in peace" he smiles softly.

"Our babies will pick plantains off the farms and swim in the ocean while we sunbathe and get drunk off margaritas"

You hum a sweet smile, "I would love it".

"I'm going to make it happen baby" he assures you.

"When are you coming in?" You ask in a whisper.

"Tomorrow" he says.

#michael scofield #michael scofield x reader #prison break imagine #prison break x reader #imagines

209 notes · View notes

kikis-writing-service · 23 days ago

Text

— the safety of being known; izuku midoriya x reader

content warning: grief/loss, emotional hurt/comfort

The rain had stopped an hour ago, but Izuku still felt like he was drowning.

He'd gone through the motions at the agency. Showered until the water ran cold, watching blood—not his own—spiral down the drain in pink rivulets. The metallic taste of failure still coated his tongue. He'd changed into civilian clothes on autopilot, each movement automatic and empty. Jeans. T-shirt. Jacket. The routine of normalcy when nothing felt normal.

He was supposed to go home. That's what people did after days like this—they went home, made dinner, pretended tomorrow would be different. Instead, he found himself walking through empty streets without seeing them. Every step felt hollow. Like his body was moving without input from his brain.

Three people.

The number echoed in his skull with each footfall against wet pavement—a metronome of failure that kept perfect time with his heartbeat. Three people he should have saved. Three families that would get devastating phone calls tonight because he'd been a split second too slow, because he'd miscalculated the building's structural integrity.

The woman in the blue dress had been calling for her daughter. Voice rising to a shriek that still rang in his ears. The elderly man had reached toward him in those final seconds before the concrete gave way, eyes wide with a trust that Izuku had failed to honor. The teenager with the scared eyes who'd tried so hard to look brave—he couldn't have been older than sixteen, still wearing his school uniform, and he'd called out "Deku!" like seeing him meant everything would be okay.

Their faces played on loop behind his eyelids every time he blinked.

He'd given his statement to the police with a voice that didn't sound like his own. Each word carefully measured and clinical. Had submitted to the paramedic's examination with the patience of someone who wasn't really present in his own skin, letting them poke and prod at superficial cuts while something much deeper bled freely. The other heroes on scene had tried to talk to him. Todoroki's quiet concern with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Kirishima's well-meaning words that he couldn't quite absorb. But their words had slid off him like water off glass.

Now he was walking. Because stopping meant thinking, and thinking meant seeing their faces again. Meant feeling the exact moment when hope had died in their eyes, when they'd realized that he—that Deku himself—wasn't fast enough, wasn't strong enough, wasn't enough.

The city moved around him in a blur of neon and late-night commuters. Salarymen heading home from overtime. Couples walking hand in hand. The ordinary pulse of life continuing as if the world hadn't fundamentally become smaller three hours ago.

How could everyone just keep moving when three people had stopped breathing forever?

Izuku stopped walking.

He was standing in front of a familiar apartment building. Its modern glass facade reflected the fractured patterns of streetlights and traffic signals. Your building. The brass nameplate gleamed dully in the artificial light, and he stared at it for a long moment, his mind slowly catching up to what his body had already decided.

Of course he'd come here. His subconscious had led him through empty streets, past his own building, past a dozen other places he could have gone. When had his feet learned the path to your door so completely that they could find it even when his mind wasn't present?

The realization that he'd unconsciously sought you out in his darkest moment felt both inevitable and terrifying.

He should go home. Should climb the stairs to his empty apartment, should shower again until the hot water ran cold and try to scrub away the guilt that clung to his skin like a second layer he couldn't shed. Should write his incident report with clinical precision. Reduce three lives to bullet points and timestamps.

Instead, he found himself in the elevator. Pressing the button for your floor with fingers that shook slightly. He'd been here several times now—dropping off files when your work intersected, walking you home after late meetings, grabbing takeout when you'd both worked through dinner. The visits had evolved from professional courtesy to genuine friendship.

But this felt different.

This was a plea.

By the time he reached your door, rational thought had reasserted itself enough to ask the obvious question: What was he doing here? You were friends—real friends who grabbed coffee just to talk, who texted about things that had nothing to do with work, who genuinely enjoyed each other's company. But you weren't the person he called when his world fell apart.

He should leave. Turn around, go home, handle this like an adult instead of showing up on your doorstep seeking comfort. But even as the rational thought formed, exhaustion won out. His head dropped forward. Forehead coming to rest against your door with a soft thunk.

The metal was cool against his skin. Solid and real in a way that felt grounding.

He let his eyes fall closed, breathing measured and careful because if he let his control slip even a little bit he might fall apart completely right here in your hallway.

He heard movement from inside. Soft footsteps approaching the door. The quiet sound of the peephole cover sliding aside. A pause. Then locks turning.

The door opened and he stumbled slightly from his weight having been resting against it. His hands came up automatically to catch himself, palms flat against the doorframe, and he found himself face to face with you.

Your hair was loose around your shoulders instead of pulled back for work. Catching the warm light from your apartment. You were wearing an oversized sweater that made you look smaller than usual—soft and approachable in a way that made his chest ache.

But it was your face that destroyed him.

Your eyes went wide with visceral concern the instant you saw him. Even in civilian clothes, even without the obvious signs of physical trauma, you could see straight through to the wreckage inside him.

"Izuku?" Your voice was soft. Worried. "What's wrong?"

He opened his mouth to answer and found he couldn't. The words were there—I failed, people died, I wasn't good enough—but they felt too big for his throat. Too sharp to speak aloud without cutting something vital inside him.

"I..." His voice came out rough. Barely recognizable. "I don't know why I'm here."

But that wasn't true. Some part of him knew exactly why he'd come here, to you. Because you looked at him like he was just Izuku, not a symbol or a failure. Because you were the only person who could sit with his brokenness without trying to fix it. Because right now, the thought of being alone felt like it might actually kill him.

You stepped back without hesitation. Opening the door wider. "Come in."

"I shouldn't—" he started, but you were already reaching for him, fingers gentle but firm as they circled his wrist. He hadn't realized how cold he'd become until your warm touch found his skin.

"Izuku." Your voice was firm now, brooking no argument. "Come inside."

He let you guide him inside, each step feeling heavier than the last.

"Sit," you said, guiding him toward your couch. "I'll get you some water."

He sat heavily. Head in his hands. Behind him, he could hear you moving around your kitchen—the soft clink of glass, water running, cabinet doors opening.

When you returned, you settled beside him. Close enough that he could feel your presence but careful not to overwhelm. For a long moment, you just sat with him in the silence.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" you asked after a while, voice gentle.

He shook his head without lifting it from his hands. Words felt impossible. How could he explain that three people had trusted him to save them, and he'd failed so completely that their final moments had been spent watching him reach for them just a second too late?

"Okay." Your voice carried such gentle understanding, but he could hear the slight catch in it. Your own emotions threatening to break through your composure. "You don't have to."

No pressure. No demands. Just quiet understanding that sometimes being human meant sitting in wreckage without trying to fix it immediately.

You reached toward him slowly, and when he didn't pull away, your fingers settled gently in his hair. The touch was soft. Patient. Like you were handling something precious and breakable. Your fingertips found the tension in his scalp and began working through it with gentle pressure.

That's when he broke.

The sob came from somewhere deep in his chest. Raw and ugly and completely beyond his control. It was followed by another, then another, until he was shaking with the force of grief that had been building all day.

"I'm sorry," he managed between ragged breaths. "I shouldn't have come here. I don't know what I was thinking—"

"Hey." Your voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. The hand in his hair stilled, and suddenly your other hand was on his shoulder. "Don't apologize for needing someone. You're safe here."

Safe.

The word hit him because that's exactly what this felt like. Not the safety of being protected, but the safety of being known. Of being allowed to fall apart without judgment.

He cried until the weight of the day had poured out of him and left him shaking and empty. Through it all, your hands stayed gentle, grounding him when everything else felt like it was falling apart. You didn't try to shush him or offer platitudes. You just held space for his grief.

When the storm passed, he found himself slumped against your side, head on your shoulder. You were humming something soft under your breath, fingers still moving through his curls.

"Better?" you asked when his breathing evened out.

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Good." Your hand cupped the back of his neck, thumb brushing the sensitive skin there with something almost reverent. "You're exhausted. When's the last time you ate?"

He had to think about it. "This morning."

You reached for his hands, turning them over gently, and he realized you were checking for injuries out of pure instinct.

"The paramedics already looked me over," he said quietly. "Nothing serious."

The relief that flooded your expression was immediate. Your hands stayed in his, thumbs brushing across his knuckles in a way that was both comforting and grounding.

"Come on," you said softly, standing and gently pulling him up with you. "Let's get you something to eat."

You led him to your kitchen and started rummaging through your fridge. You glanced up from the open fridge. "Is leftover pasta okay?"

He nodded, watching you with quiet appreciation. "Yeah, that's perfect."

You filled the quiet while the food heated, then while he ate—chatting about a funny commercial you'd seen on TV last night, how your building's elevator always stops on the third floor for no reason, a weird dream you'd had the night before. Nothing important, just giving him something to focus on besides his own thoughts.

When he finished eating, he looked over at you, blinking slowly like someone fighting off sleep, and ran a hand through his hair. "Thank you," he said, voice rougher than intended. "For all of this."

"You don't have to thank me," you said quietly. "This is what people do for each other."

But it wasn't, was it? This level of care—careful and unspoken and fragile, but unmistakably real—this was special.

And suddenly, he understood what had been growing between you for months. What had drawn him here tonight, to your door.

He was in love with you.

Not just attracted, not just fond, but completely in love—because you saw him. Not a symbol or a hero, but a person worthy of care and tenderness.

The feeling was overwhelming. Like coming home to something he'd been searching for without knowing it.

"I should go," he said suddenly, self-consciousness washing over him as he became acutely aware of how he must appear—exhausted, emotional, having imposed on your evening without warning.

"Should you?" Your hand stilled on the counter. "It's late. And you're exhausted."

The question hung in the air between you. Should he go? Back to his empty apartment where silence would press against him? Back to endless replay of today's failures?

"I don't want to impose—"

"You're not imposing," you said firmly. "Stay tonight. We can put on something mindless, and you can sleep on my couch. You don't have to say anything else about what happened."

There was something in your voice—not just kindness, but protective fierceness. Like the thought of him leaving, of him being alone with his pain, was genuinely unbearable to you.

"Okay," he said quietly. "If you're sure."

Your smile was soft and relieved and radiant. "I'm sure."

When you took his hand, something warm settled in his chest. Palm against palm—nothing complicated, but tonight it felt like everything.

As you led him back to your living room, your presence calm and steady, Izuku found himself noticing details he'd never paid attention to before—the way your hands moved when you spoke, the soft flutter of your eyelashes, how your lips pressed together when you were thinking. Everything about you seemed suddenly, intensely precious.

He would tell you eventually. What you'd come to mean to him. But for now it was enough to follow you into your kitchen and let you feed him. To sit beside you on your couch pretending to watch whatever mindless show you picked while stealing glances at your profile. To fall asleep on your cushions with a spare blanket tucked around him, surrounded by your scent.

Tomorrow would come with its weight of responsibility. But tonight, in the sanctuary of your living room, he was just Izuku.

And somehow, that felt like enough.

While I appreciate likes, what really keeps me motivated to share my work is community and conversation! So if you enjoyed this, consider reblogging with tags, leaving a reply, or dropping an ask. I’d love to chat about my faves, anime, writing, or honestly anything else—hearing what you thought or what resonated with you always makes my day. 🖤

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #selfship #selfship: izuki

139 notes · View notes

acidinduceddaydreams · 7 months ago

Text

Fort-night!

Pairings: bff kind of cgs! 1D x fem!reader. 2011-2013 sort of 1D vibes. Can you tell nostalgia is hitting me hard rn?

Synopsis: you are feeling uneasy and hurt. Lucky for you five boys want to light up your world like nobody else.

Warnings/ A/n: Liam is mentioned because it’s not 1D without him. I hope this made you all smile. God bless! ❤️🧸. Also did you see what I did with the title and synopsis haha I’m so funny okay bye now!

It had been one of those days where everything felt just a bit too much. Your energy was low, and even though you tried to shake off the heaviness, it lingered. By the time you curled up on the couch with a blanket, you’d decided the best plan was to stay quiet and hope no one noticed.

But the boys always noticed.

Harry was the first to sense something was off. He walked into the room with a bowl of strawberries in hand, humming softly to himself. When he saw you tucked into the corner of the couch, staring blankly at the TV, he immediately set the bowl down and knelt in front of you.

“Hey, love,” he said softly, his green eyes scanning your face. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

You shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “Just tired.”

Harry tilted his head, concern flickering across his face. “Tired like you need sleep, or tired like you need cuddles and a distraction?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Maybe both.”

Harry reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Alright. We can fix that.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Louis burst into the room, carrying an armful of blankets. “Right,” he announced, his voice bright and full of purpose, “it’s officially a blanket fort night. No arguments allowed.”

You blinked, watching as Louis began draping blankets over the furniture, muttering to himself about structural integrity.

“Blanket fort night?” you asked quietly, looking up at Harry.

He grinned. “Only the best nights. Trust me, love, Lou’s got this down to a science.”

As if on cue, Niall wandered in, a bag of crisps tucked under his arm. “What’s all this, then?” he asked, nodding toward the chaos Louis was creating.

“It’s a masterpiece in progress,” Louis replied, tossing a pillow to Niall. “Now, help me. We need snacks, fairy lights, and at least five more blankets.”

Niall raised an eyebrow but grinned, setting the crisps on the coffee table before diving into the project.

Liam arrived next, balancing a tray of steaming mugs. “I thought hot chocolate might be in order,” he said, handing a mug to each of you. He crouched beside you, his gaze soft and kind. “You doing alright, sweetheart?”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, just… a bit off today.”

“Well, good thing you’ve got us,” Liam said warmly, patting your knee. “We’ll sort you out.”

By the time Zayn appeared with a stack of books and a flashlight, the fort was taking shape. Louis had transformed the living room into a cozy hideaway, complete with fairy lights strung along the edges and a pile of snacks in the middle.

“You don’t have to do all this,” you murmured as Zayn handed you a book.

Zayn gave you a small smile, sitting down beside you. “We want to. Besides, it’s been too long since our last fort night.”

Harry stood, offering you a hand. “Come on, love. Let’s get you settled.”

He guided you into the fort, where pillows and blankets surrounded you in a cocoon of warmth. The boys followed, each finding their spot—Louis sprawled dramatically across the pillows, Niall rifling through the snacks, Liam adjusting the lights, and Zayn flipping through the books.

“Alright,” Louis declared, holding up a flashlight. “We start with ghost stories. It’s tradition.”

“No way,” Niall countered. “Let’s watch something funny. Y/N needs a good laugh.”

“Spooky stories first,” Louis insisted. “Fort rules.”

As they bickered, you couldn’t help but smile. Harry noticed, his lips curling into a grin as he nudged your side.

“There it is,” he said softly.

“There’s what?” you asked.

“That smile,” he replied, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We’ve been missing it all day.”

Zayn started reading a ghost story in an exaggerated voice, and the boys took turns interrupting him with jokes and sound effects. You found yourself laughing more than you had in days, the warmth of their presence chasing away the lingering heaviness.

By the time the story ended, the snacks were half gone, and Niall had convinced everyone to put on a comedy movie. You leaned against Harry, his arm draped around you, as Louis threw popcorn at Zayn for stealing his pillow.

“You feeling better, love?” Harry whispered, his voice low so the others wouldn’t hear.

You nodded, leaning into him. “A lot better. Thank you.”

“You never have to thank us,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We’re your boys. Taking care of you is the best part of our day.”

As the movie played and the boys continued their playful antics, you felt a warmth settle over you. Wrapped in their love and care, you knew one thing for sure—you were never alone.

182 notes · View notes

austinbutlerslovers · 1 year ago

Text

Feyd Fantasy Part 5

Label Mature 18+

Endless Empire

Summary

Feyd Rautha becomes the Baron of Giedi prime and inherits all the responsibilities it entails.

The former Baron Vladimir on his deathbed was enraged at how well you corrupted his nephew. Implanting Feyd with the idea to kill his own uncle in order to ascend as Baron ahead of his time, (keeping you together). His nephews love and obsession for you disgusted him. But he still wanted his favorite prodigy to succeed... just without your interference.

He laid a treacherous plot to separate you from Feyd forever.

Starts off Dominating sex Ends with Passionate love making

⚠️ Hard Core Smut ⚠️

edging •missionary• rough sex •hip pinning•oral sex while distracted• fingering • orgasm denial• sex against a head board•multiple cream pies•multiple orgasms

Part 1 • Part 2 •Part 3 • Part 4•Part 5•Part 6 •Part 7

✍🏼Proofreader/Editor @faegoddessog 🫦Smut Consultant @burnthheparaphilia 💗Affection Consultant @magicovento

⏳Extreme Dune Inaccuracies ⌛️

💝Not for my softies (mentions of violence)

Inspo: ⚔️ Multiple anonymous requests combined ⚔️ -Feyd initiating oral while you are distracted -Feyd denying you an orgasm -Feyd restraining himself to be gentle -Feyd addicted to you -Feyd making love to you

(Requests sorted through the final 3 fics if you don’t see yours here)

Endless Empire

The populace of the planet Giedi Prime swarm the capitol in preparation for the coronation of their new Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. The military is in full force on display in the streets. All of the banners of Vladimir Harkonnen are clipped as Banners of Feyd Rautha unfurl across the globe.

Feyd refuses to change quarters to his departed uncles until it has been completely decontaminated and scoured. He wanted to take his fire torch and expedite the process by burning everything inside to a black char but was talked out of it by several advisors who mention structural integrity and fire damage.

He settles for having it stripped of every single thing inside. He wants it bare, then he will consider it. For now guards stand watch night and day at his door and in his courtyard without concern for his privacy due to the easier access of his quarters from an intruder.

During the stillness of the night he climbs on top of you. There is a brief moment were you gaze into each other's eyes and you call him by his new title “Baron Feyd Rautha” you say seductively. He smiles at you, his already hard cock swells with pride and he lunges his mouth for your neck. He eagerly licks a stripe from your collar bone to your jaw “My Baroness “ he says in return before passionately kissing you.

He teases your pussy lifting his hips and slowly rubbing his hard shaft up and down through your folds. He places kisses along your face and neck until you begin panting for him getting increasingly aroused from the stimulation. Once you are wet he lines himself with you and thrusts into your core.

You gasp as he slowly pushes his thick cock in and out of your tight soaked entrance. His passionate thrusts make you cling to his shoulders. He groans feeling the way his cock is sucked in by your needy walls. He restrains himself back to remain gentle.

You whine, you want him rough, tonight he is the Baron of Giedi Prime and you know what he likes, he wants to dominate and fuck you ruthlessly.

You slide your hands down his strong muscular shoulders to his pale lower back. You force him deeper inside of you.

His jaw slacks as he stretches you open fully to fit his cock. He locks eyes with you thrilled by your eagerness and increases his pace until his hips are rhythmically smacking against yours. He makes your walls pulse at every deep thrust of his cock.

You begin whimpering underneath him as you try to remain strong in the face of his rough plows. But he enjoys watching you fall apart. The way your face is a mix of pleasure and pain as he breaks you, unable to withstand his power.

Your moans get even louder when he’s rough and it excites him to dominate you.

His eyes are wild as he brings his hands to your hips pinning you to the bed for better leverage. He begins snapping his hips between your legs until his entire body tenses as he slams his cock into you. He pounds into you so fast and hard your mind fails to comprehend as you dig your nails into his back. “Feyd..I’m going to cum!” you cry out. You begin high pitched moaning as your abs flex hard and your core tightens ready to snap.

“Cum on my cock” he commands and presses his hand on your abdomen. He feels the size of himself sliding in and out of you and begins grunting as if he’s possessed. He wants to cum.

“That’s it Baroness …milk …my cock” he rasps feeling you fall apart beneath him. You moan his name as you orgasm and he strains as your walls tighten and expand rhythmically, trying to drain him of his seed.

He clenches his jaw tight as he cums hard. His silver ropes of cum paint your inner walls. He holds your waist and forces you onto his cock several times as he drains every drop of semen. He release his strong grip when he is empty. You both pant heavily for several seconds as you come down.

He pulls his hips back until his heavy cock slips out of you. He lays beside you and pulls you to rest your head on his shoulder. As you lay your arm across his chest you stroke behind his ear and down his neck until you both drift off to sleep.

The Decree

It is the day before the coronation. Feyd is already scheduled with several tasks in the morning. First a meeting with his advisors and governors of Giedi Prime on an important decree. Then his final fitting for his ascension garments followed by a run through of the ceremony taking place in the fortress courtyard.

He will also fit in meals and a fighting session with his sparring partner Ghul. Feeling the pressure stacking he needs to let out his aggression but you had forbidden him from fighting and killing gladiator slaves in his courtyard for stress relief.

Feyd is already up and dressed for his meeting. He watches you sleep as he fastens his Baron medallion to his regal garments and slides on his signet pinky ring. He is aching for you and squeezes your hip but you remain sleeping. He pulls the sheet higher on your shoulder caressing his thumb to your jaw before he leaves you to rest.

He heads directly to the meeting hall for his first appointment as Baron. The guards open the black inscribed doors for him. His twelve advisors and several reigning governors from each planetary district of Giedi Prime are in attendance. The table,seating fifty, is completely full. Conversations stop when he enters. They all look at him, immediately standing to bow in reverence.

Feyd takes his place standing at the head of the meeting hall table and they all sit following his lead. Apprehensive murmurs seep around the table before the Lord in Waiting stands up to make a statement. They fall silent.

“Baron Feyd Rautha, I have in my hands a decree from your Uncle Vladimir which was written on his death bed on his last ruling day as Baron.” He retrieves the official metal cylinder with the laser etched words and begins to read.

“Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, you will rule Giedi Prime as Baron. Your current marriage will be annulled. You are set to be married to Princess Irunlan, daughter of the Emperor Shaddam IV.”

The Lord in waiting pauses, letting the late Baron's words sink in to Feyd’s ears. He knows it is a heavy blow.

“My dying decree is a solution which guarantees that you are to be made Emperor without interference.” Once the Lord in waiting finishes reading the decree he places the cylinder in a nesting dock on the table making the etched letters project above the table for all to see.

Feyd quickly rises up from his chair unable to withstand what he’s hearing. He tries to disguise the rage boiling inside of him. The governors and advisors begin to murmur already sensing their new Baron is displeased.

Feyd holds the back of his chair, eyes burning with contempt. His uncle even from beyond the grave has fucked him over. He steals back from the table pacing waiting for a thought to form.

“Has the princess agreed to this?” Feyd asks cautiously.

The Lord in Waiting checks the correspondences to be certain. “Not directly but her father the Emperor has answered your Uncle's request. Emperor Shaddam IV has sent a formal message in return. He would like to set up a meeting for you and Princess Irulan to get acquainted and begin a courtship. The Emperor is more than willing to forgo the traditional courting protocol if you wish to skip directly to the marriage proposal instead m’Lord.”

A stillness fills the room. With no answer from Feyd the The Lord in waiting continues.

“Emperor Shaddam IV has heard the praises from Count Fenring of your accomplishments in the gladiatorial arena. He will give you his daughter’s hand without question. Shall I respond and set up the arrangements for your interplanetary travel to Kaiaten to meet the Princess? This could be arranged after your coronation as the New Baron of Giedi Prime m’Lord the timing would be immaculate.” The Lord in waiting awaits Feyds response.

Feyds rage calms realizing it is still in the initial meeting phase and no binding contracts have been made. He needs to make an impression on his new advisors and governors as Baron to change their minds on the decision.

“Have each of you signed off on this?” He asks his twelve advisors. They all nod in agreement, beginning to murmur with each other. The Lord in Waiting speaks for all of them. “This is the decision made by your uncle to ensure your empire m’Lord . The Baron - - -“

Feyd cuts him off

“Vladimir Harkonnen is dead” he says coldly.

The room falls silent. Feyd begins to walk the length of the table peering over at each member in attendance, judging them before he continues.

“The Emperor knows what I know and what everyone in this room knows. I am his only choice of ascendant. Just as I have been ascended to the throne by my uncle Vladimir, I will ascend the throne as Emperor.” He stops his pace at the Lord in Waiting who is standing at the foot of the table.

Feyd turns to speak to all of them. “The Harkonnen house is the strongest of all the houses. We are the richest of all houses. We are the farthest reaching with the largest army. Do you think any of that will change based on who I chose to marry?” He reaches past the Lord in waiting and slips the cylinder from its nesting dock. The Lord in waiting does not dare stop him.

Feyd glances it over, seeing his uncle's signet and smirks. “What my uncle failed to realize is that Princess Irulan has her own set of interests in mind. Do you think she cares for the Inhabitants of Geidi Prime? No. Her eyes are filled with blue, filled with the urge to exploit our most coveted resource. The spice of Arrakis.”

The advisors slowly nod in agreement.

“Why do you think the Emperor is so hasty to have me join his daughter? Maybe it is because we slaughtered an entire planet for him. Emperor Shaddam permitted us to wipe out our only leading rivals, the Atreides. All because Duke Leto was gaining too much power and defied him,” he smiles sinisterly.

“My uncle told me it was ordered to him directly by the Emperor to wipe out House Atreides. The decision was made so swiftly, that hundreds of thousands were slaughtered mercilessly as our armies reined down on them that fateful day”

The advisors and governors beam with pride, reminiscing the day they annihilated their most hated and long standing enemy.

Feyd smirks to himself again before continuing. He holds up the decree swishing it through the air as he speaks. “We have the hidden advantage of spilling our little secret, that Emperor ordered a genocide, any time we wish. In front of a tribunal of the Great Houses he will be exiled as a war criminal, and it was all orchestrated under my Uncle's reign. As your new Baron unattached to these ‘horrible atrocities’ we will remain unscathed and continue our exploits in this endless empire.” He says with a grin.

The governors and advisors are mystified at the way Feyd Rauthas mind calculated such an advantage so quickly.

He turns, pointing the cylinder at the Lord in waiting. “My interests are for Giedi Prime and my wife carrying the future Harkonnen heir. I ascend with my Harkonnen Baroness.”

The men nod in agreement and begin to clap before standing with a round of applause. Feyds rationale making them realize they hold power almost on par with the Emperor. As for their new Baron it is better he rule with a female under his control who knows the Harkonnen ways. Princess Irulan is an independent female free from male domination. She will combat his leadership and challenge his heritage at every instance in order to raid their resources.

“Have this destroyed” Feyd says as he slaps the metal cylinder decree into the Lord in Waiting’s palm. “Are there any other matters of importance you need to address with me?” Feyd asks, the Lord with a cold stare.

The Lord in Waiting studies Feyds menacing demeanor. He knows he will be a resolute Baron both cunning and ruthless. He decides to immediately pledge his loyalty to Feyd. “That ends the meeting m’Lord,” he bows his head gracefully. Feyd raises his hand in the air dismissing all in attendance and continues the rest of the day completing his other responsibilities as Baron.

Role of a Female

When Feyd returns to you in his chamber for the evening he feels accomplished. He secured you as his reigning Baroness. You lock eyes with him and he smiles at you before continuing on his path.

He strips naked out of his fighting gear, just having completed his sparring with Ghul. He heads straight into the decontamination chamber. Though sparring doesn’t compare with empaling his sword through the throat of a gladiator slave, he made it work just to appease you. Once he emerges from the decontamination chamber, he cleanses his mouth.

He has an enormous day tomorrow for his coronation and finally crawls into bed naked. You are resting against the headboard, reading “The Ancient Ways of Giedi Prime.” deeply invested in a chapter about the subservient roles of females on his planet. He gently pulls the sheets from your lap without you taking much notice.

Once he grabs ahold of your thighs spreading and resting between them you tip your book down and look at him. He tips the book back up into your hands. “Read it to me” he says sensually. You smile and begin to read aloud, “Though females have their place in the Giedi Prime hierarchy, it is to a lesser role and nearly on par with a servant… “ Feyd pulls your hips down, angling them towards his face. Distracted, you lose your place in the book.

He parts open your robe gaining direct access to your exposed pussy. “Keep reading,” his words fan against your folds as he spreads them open with his fingers.

Your heart rate increases with anticipation as you continue “ The main purpose of a Giedi Prime female is for personal pleasure and child bearing for the male… …-who controls her.”

You let out a moan and close your eyes as his warm wet tongue softly probes your entrance.

You are trembling with pleasure as he sucks onto your folds. You try to read one more sentence for him before going weak. “A Giedi …-Prime female will ..-never -..hold a ..position of power over a male …in ..-any way.” You let out a moan as he pushes his fingers into you thrusting them in and out. You put the book down already wet and aroused.

Your eyes close tighter at the added feeling of his tongue brushing against your clit with his fingers plunging in. He begins lapping up the arousal releasing from your folds for him.

His cock is throbbing, aching to come into you.

He climbs up and slowly kisses your mouth. When you taste yourself on his tongue you whimper and hold the back of his neck, pulling him into a deeper kiss.

He grows weak from your soft lips overtaking his and recalls what you read to him in that moment. He would gladly let you hold power over him. He has fallen madly for you. The three forgotten words he is meant to say elude him.

With your back pressed to the head board he lifts your legs one at a time around his waist so you are sitting in his lap. He places both hands on your hips to hold you in place.

As you continue to kiss him he becomes needier and restless. You feel his hand brush between your thighs making you break the kiss. You look down between your bodies to see he’s aiming his cock for you.

He presses his tip to your entrance and you watch him slowly penetrate his shaft inside of you inch by inch. When he buries inside of you beyond capacity you look into his eyes mystified feeling yourself stretching to fit the size of his girth.

He slowly presses his hips onto yours making moans fall between both of your lips. He lustfully kisses you then, lulling you into a dream-like state as he remains stilled inside of you, warming his cock. You lock your ankles around his waist and feel him smile against your lips.

He begins gently thrusting into you with passionate warmth. Feyd is making love to you for the first time. Your psychotic, dominating, sexually-depraved husband presses into you gently, letting you feel every inch and vein of his cock. His tenderness all but makes you climax.

Your walls begin to pulse against his shaft, readying to orgasm. He stills his movements. “Why did you stop? I’m so close,” you plead just above a whisper. Your voice is full of neediness. He smiles as his pretty blue gaze into yours. “I want your pleasure intensified,” he says, grabbing ahold of your jaw and planting a kiss on your lips.

Once your walls stop fluttering he begins slowly thrusting into you again this time you feel an explosion of pleasure in your core as your mouth falls open. You cling onto him trying to stay sane. Your walls begin to flutter on his cock once more and he stills his movements a second time.

Your clit is throbbing to your core, you are painfully tight. Feeling him fully inside of you without moving makes your walls intensely pulse around his cock seeking any type of friction. “Feyd please….-please let me cum.” You beg at your peak, completely covered in chills feeling sensitive to every part of his being. He leans back, looking into your pleading eyes and smiles.

He knows you can not withstand being denied another orgasm, even though the build up would give you the most pleasurable experience upon release.

He sucks his thumb into his mouth wetting it and brings it down on your clit pressing into the nub and rubbing in circles. You moan staring into his eyes as your abdomen constricts and you are unable to move as you orgasm. Your walls pulse and clench hard as you cum without him even thrusting into you. You pant heavily feeling the euphoria and relief wash over you.

He rises to his knees, lifting you higher on the headboard with his strength and presses you back against leather. He begins clapping his hips into yours. The moans that fall in from your lips are foreign to your ears.

His hand caresses your throat as he gazes at you with his intense blue eyes. He feels the deep connection between your bodies. He thrusts into you deeply for what feels like an eternity with his stamina. When your walls flutter his cock twitches and he snaps his hips forward slamming you against the headboard the shock makes him cum as you orgasm.

His parted lips faintly touch against yours as his body tenses releasing rope after rope of his warm cum into your core.

You both moan in unison as your walls rhythmically milk him. He presses his hand to your throat softly kissing along your jaw and the side of your face in reverence. He inhales your scent as he rubs his soft lips and grazes his black teeth against your jaw. He can’t get enough of you.

He holds you to him bringing you down from the headboard. He slowly slips his cock out of you and lays you in bed pulling you to face him.

As he caresses the side of your face with his finger tips he gazes into your pretty eyes. You make him remember the forgotten words never spoken to him before. The three words that have all the meaning in the world. He plants a kiss to your forehead and pulls you to his chest. He drifts to sleep dreaming of you at his side for his coronation in the morning.

To be continued..

Part 6 Brazen Baron Available Now ->

Feyds Coronation| Feyds Pleasure| Feyds War

Part 6 Smut Requets: Sex against a window•sex in the throne room• Dom Feyd •Sub Feyd •Feyd wearing a collar •Feyd being handcuffed for sex•Feyd being whipped(with a crop!)•semi public sex• Feyd BJ•size kink• Feyd willing to give up his kingdom for you• Feyd gives up his kink (what?!)

⚔️ Fic tag list ⚔️

@faegoddessog @burnthheparaphilia @elvismylove04 @lindszeppelin @obsessedvibee @abswifey @hardcoredisneynerd @austiebuttbutt @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @i5uckersblog @phil2135561 @lovereadingfanfic @steph-speaks @rougegenshin @maloribarnes1999 @meetmeatyourworst @moony-artemis @xxxstormyninixxx @prettypinkblogger @thegabbyh @magicovento @aoi-targaryen @austinswhitewolf @skinny-baby-4eva @mimsie95 @the-wanderer-2022 @jakesullyissopookie @francis-writes @shiranai-atsune @berlinalv @everyonelovesavalet @dacreshoney @caroline334 @szapizzapanda @berlinalv @landlockedmermaid77 @moonsoulk @sophroniaclark @emeraldsgirl @alana4610 @avidreader73 @aaaaaaamond @cooliosthings @mcmisbehaving @zzz000eee @or-was-it-just-a-dream @mamawiggers1980 @alexa4040 @joyfulpersonbeliever

#feyd rautha x #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feydrautha #feyd x reader #feyd x #feyd smut #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x you #austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austinbutler #austin butler x reader #smut #fanfic #feydbaron

1K notes · View notes

mommyownsmee · 2 months ago

Text

Non-Verbal Communication in BDSM: Navigating Scenes with a Deaf Submissive

╰┈➤ Strategies for Building Trust, Clarity, and Consent Without Spoken Words

BDSM is built upon trust, consent, and clear communication. These elements are essential for ensuring that both partners can fully engage in the dynamic while feeling secure and empowered. For a submissive who is deaf or hard of hearing, traditional verbal communication methods are either limited or entirely unavailable, necessitating alternative strategies to ensure a safe, effective, and immersive experience.

Non-verbal communication in BDSM is not merely a workaround for the absence of spoken words—it is an opportunity to cultivate deeper connection, enhance awareness, and refine the nuances of a power exchange. By developing a structured, reliable system of signals, adjusting sensory engagement, and prioritizing pre-scene negotiations, both Dominant and submissive can achieve a dynamic that is not only inclusive but also intensely rewarding.

In This Article:

Establishing a Non-Verbal Safeword System

Enhancing Sensory Awareness & Adjusting Play

Pre-Scene Talk & Tailoring Play for Individual Needs

Aftercare Requirements – What Is Needed for a Smooth Transition Out of the Scene?

Ensuring Emotional & Physical Safety

A Deaf Submissive is Not a Burden—They Are a Gift

1. Establishing a Non-Verbal Safeword System

BDSM relies heavily on safewords and signals to regulate intensity, provide real-time feedback, and ensure that both partners feel safe, in control, and able to communicate their needs effectively. When engaging in play with a deaf submissive or a partner unable to use verbal safewords, traditional vocal cues are ineffective. This necessitates the use of alternative, equally clear, and instantly recognizable communication methods.

A well-designed non-verbal safeword system should be accessible, intuitive, and effortlessly executable under a variety of play conditions—including physical restraint, sensory deprivation, and high-intensity scenarios.

Designing an Effective Non-Verbal Safeword System

An effective non-verbal safeword system must meet the following criteria:

Easily Executed: The submissive should be able to signal distress or a limit effortlessly, even when tied, blindfolded, or physically overwhelmed.

Recognizable & Distinct: The chosen signal must be clear and intentional to avoid misinterpretation or confusion.

Consistently Visible or Tangible: The safeword system should function seamlessly in all play environments, whether in dim lighting, restrictive positions, or immersive scenarios.

By integrating these principles into non-verbal safeword alternatives, both partners can maintain a fluid, uninterrupted scene while ensuring that safety and consent remain at the forefront.

Other Non-Verbal Safeword Techniques

Hand Signals

Hand signals provide an instant, visible method of communication and are particularly effective when the submissive has full use of their hands. These are best suited for well-lit settings, close-contact play, or when visual communication is a natural part of the scene.

Standard Hand Signals:

Green (“Continue”) → A thumbs-up or an “OK” gesture to indicate full consent and readiness to proceed.

Yellow (“Slow Down, Check In”) → Wiggling fingers, tapping twice on the Dominant’s body, or making a waving gesture to indicate the need for a pause or check-in.

Blue (“Pause for Non-Scene Needs”) → Pointing to the mouth, miming a drinking gesture, or raising a flat hand palm-up to indicate a need to pause the scene for practical or physical reasons—such as using the restroom, hydrating, or addressing a non-play-related concern.

Red (“Stop Immediately”) → Holding up a closed fist or crossing the arms in an X shape over the chest to signal an immediate halt to the scene.

Hand signals are simple, widely recognized, and highly effective for maintaining real-time communication during immersive play, allowing for quick feedback without disrupting the intensity of the moment.

Tactile Signals (Tapping & Squeezing)

For scenarios where the submissive’s hands are restrained, occupied, or limited in movement, tactile communication (based on controlled pressure) provides a reliable alternative.

Three Firm Taps: Tapping on any accessible surface—such as the bed, floor, or the Dominant’s body—signals an immediate stop.

Sustained, Tight Squeeze: A firm, prolonged squeeze on the Dominant’s wrist, thigh, or hand indicates the need for a pause or check-in.

This method is particularly useful in low-visibility or sensory-deprivation scenes where visual signals may not be possible. It ensures that the submissive always has a tangible way to communicate distress or discomfort.

Drop Method (Using a Physical Object)

In scenes where the submissive’s mobility is highly restricted, a physical object can serve as an unmistakable emergency stop mechanism.

The submissive holds a small, lightweight item in their hand—such as a soft ball, a bell, a piece of fabric, or a ribbon.

If the object is dropped, the scene stops immediately.

This method requires minimal effort from the submissive and provides a clear, immediate safeword alternative for scenarios involving rope bondage, immobilization, or restrictive positions.

Visual Cues (Lighting & Written Cards)

For low-light environments, sensory-deprivation play, or immersive scenes where gestures may be difficult to perceive, visual indicators can replace verbal cues.

Traffic Light System Lamps:

Red = Immediate Stop

(Blue = Pause)

Yellow = Slow Down, Check-In

Green = Continue

Pre-Written Cards or Signs:

Cards with phrases such as “Stop,” (“Pause,”) “Slow Down,” and “More” can be kept within reach, allowing the submissive to communicate quickly and clearly.

Visual cues ensure that consent and communication remain intact even in altered sensory conditions, allowing both partners to stay fully engaged in the scene while maintaining clear boundaries.

The Significance of a Non-Verbal Safeword System

A robust, non-verbal communication system fosters a deep sense of trust, confidence, and security within the BDSM dynamic. It eliminates ambiguity and ensures that the submissive retains full control over their boundaries—even in scenarios where verbal speech is not an option.

By implementing these carefully structured, adaptable methods, both partners can create an experience that is not only safe and intuitive but also allows for uninhibited immersion and deeper emotional connection.

2. Enhancing Sensory Awareness & Adjusting Play

If verbal cues are not available, sensory modalities—touch, sight, and pressure—become the primary means of communication during play. By heightening these elements, the Dominant can craft a deeply immersive and controlled experience that not only ensures clarity and understanding but also intensifies connection, trust, and submission.

Without words, the language of the body takes precedence, and every movement, glance, and touch becomes an essential part of guiding, commanding, and reinforcing the dynamic.

Tactile Communication & Physical Guidance

Physical touch is no longer just a form of sensation—it becomes the voice of control. Every stroke, grip, and press serves as an unspoken command, reinforcing authority, presence, and intention.

Leading through touch: Instead of spoken directives, the Dominant can use firm, intentional movements to guide the submissive’s body into position. A press between the shoulder blades could signal a bowing motion, while a guiding hand on the hips could direct a change in stance.

Attention cues: Without the ability to call a submissive’s name to demand focus, the Dominant must instead use calculated touches to command their attention.

A light tap on the shoulder could indicate a shift in direction.

A firm grip on the chin could demand eye contact and stillness.

Fingertips tracing along the skin could both redirect and tease simultaneously, reinforcing control through sensation alone.

Writing on the skin: The Dominant’s fingers could trace commands, symbols, or even teasing messages onto the submissive’s body, letting them feel each word like an intimate whisper.

Spelling out “good girl” along the curve of their spine.

Drawing an arrow on their thigh to tell them where they should be feeling the most.

Physical communication ensures the submissive always knows what is expected, maintaining the intensity of the scene without breaking immersion.

Eye Contact & Body Language

Since auditory processing is not an option, the most powerful form of communication becomes visual. The eyes, the posture, the deliberate shifts in movement—all become a dominant force of unspoken instruction.

Prolonged eye contact: In the absence of spoken words, a commanding gaze can do everything a verbal order can—if not more.

A locked stare can mean “don’t move.”

A sharp glance downward can order the submissive to kneel.

A raised eyebrow can silently question whether they are hesitating, or disobeying.

Exaggerated gestures & clear body language: To ensure nothing is lost in translation, the Dominant’s movements must be clear, strong, and deliberate.

Pauses between actions allow the submissive to process, react, and internalize what’s happening without feeling rushed or overwhelmed.

Gestures should feel natural, intentional, and commanding—just like the touch-based instructions.

Every movement should have meaning, reinforcing authority without needing words.

A single glance, a well-timed pause, a shift in stance—these elements create an unbreakable psychological hold without ever needing verbal confirmation.

Incorporating Vibrations & Pressure

In the absence of vocal cues, other sensory-based feedback methods can be used to signal changes in rhythm, pace, or intensity.

Vibrations as a signal: Using a vibrating device (this one also works with one bracelet + an apple watch; and there are vibrating cat toys that can be bought that work too) pressed against the body\wrist of the Dominant could create a coded system for guidance:

One quick pulse → “Hold still.”

A steady vibration → “You’re doing good, but don’t stop.”

A sudden, stronger vibration → “Brace yourself. I’m about to take you deeper.”

Pressure-based commands: Since touch is the foundation of control in non-verbal communication, varying the level of pressure applied to the skin can establish an intuitive system of commands.

A slow, dragging stroke could mean “breathe, relax.”

A sharp squeeze on the wrist or thigh could signal “brace yourself.”

A firm press between the shoulder blades could command “deeper, lower, submit.”

Pre-determined touch-based signals: Just as verbal commands would be used in a typical scene, these signals become the unspoken rules that govern the dynamic:

A single tap could mean “pause and wait.”

A long, lingering touch could mean “keep going, just like that.”

A grip on the back of the neck could mean “you’re mine, and I want you to feel it.”

Sensory-based commands create a seamless and intuitive exchange of power where the submissive can feel every shift in control, even without verbal confirmation.

When verbal communication is not an option, BDSM play must be adjusted to heighten sensory awareness, redefine control, and strengthen the connection between Dominant and submissive.

Touch replaces words.

Eye contact replaces spoken commands.

Pressure and/or vibration replace tone and inflection.

This doesn’t just maintain the integrity of a scene—it enhances it. By removing verbal language, we allow the body to speak for itself—to respond, to react, to surrender. And in that silence, every touch, every glance, every breath becomes an order waiting to be obeyed.

3. Pre-Scene Talk & Tailoring Play for Individual Needs

A well-defined negotiation process is the foundation of any BDSM scene, ensuring that both partners share a clear understanding of expectations, boundaries, and safety measures before play begins. For a deaf submissive, these discussions take on an added layer of importance, as non-verbal communication, sensory adjustments, and accessibility considerations become essential to a seamless, safe, and immersive experience.

By taking the time to discuss and personalize every aspect of the scene, both partners can enter play with confidence, trust, and a fully developed system for maintaining control and consent.

Key Areas of Discussion

Each submissive’s preferences, needs, and limitations are unique, making pre-scene discussions critical for establishing the right environment where communication, safety, and pleasure remain uninterrupted.

Cochlear Implants – Should They Remain On or Be Removed During Play?

For submissives who wear cochlear implants or hearing aids, deciding whether they should remain on or be removed is a vital part of scene planning.

- If left on, this allows for partial auditory awareness during play, ensuring that the submissive can still detect some environmental cues, vibrations, or sounds. However, it may also cause sensory distractions or discomfort, depending on the intensity of the scene.

- If removed, the submissive experiences a fully silent scene, which can heighten other sensory experiences (e.g., touch, pressure, visual cues). This choice may enhance immersion but also requires clear non-verbal communication systems to be in place.

- Some submissives alternate between having them on during the beginning of the scene and removing them as play intensifies.

Deciding on this beforehand prevents unexpected interruptions, discomfort, or miscommunication during play.

Subspace Experience – How Does It Affect Sensory Processing?

Subspace can alter perception, awareness, and response time, making it essential to understand how it uniquely affects a deaf submissive.

- Does subspace cause heightened sensitivity to touch and pressure, or does it numb certain sensations?

- Do they tend to lose track of time, movement, or control when deep in submission?

- Does the submissive experience delayed response time when transitioning into or out of subspace?

- What grounding techniques (touch, breath, visual focus) help them stay connected during intense play?

A submissive in subspace may struggle to use safeword signals, making pre-determined safety measures even more crucial.

Preferred Grounding Techniques – What Physical Sensations Provide Security?

Since a deaf submissive’s experience of sensory processing may differ, pre-negotiation should include discussing what physical sensations offer grounding, reassurance, or stability during play.

- Does deep pressure touch (gripping the waist, holding the wrist, steady weight against the body) provide security?

- Do they respond well to rhythmic tapping, stroking, or repeated gestures as a way to maintain awareness?

- Do they find comfort in eye contact and facial cues, or does too much visual intensity become overwhelming?

- Are there certain types of touch (e.g., soft stroking vs. firm grasping) that help them regulate their emotions when deep in submission?

Understanding the submissive’s grounding needs helps the Dominant maintain a controlled, safe, and immersive experience without disrupting the flow of the scene.

Triggers & Comfort Cues – What Actions Promote Relaxation or Distress?

Because communication is primarily non-verbal, identifying potential triggers, comfort cues, and emotional responses is necessary to prevent distress and reinforce trust.

- Are there specific touches, positions, or actions that may cause panic, discomfort, or overstimulation?

- Does sudden loss of eye contact, restraint, or silence create anxiety?

- Are there preferred calming cues that help the submissive reset if a moment of distress occurs?

- Are there rituals (e.g., a comforting physical gesture, a specific reassuring signal) that help the submissive feel safe?

By recognizing and respecting triggers, the Dominant can ensure that play remains within an enjoyable and safe framework while fostering emotional connection and security.

4. Aftercare Requirements – What Is Needed for a Smooth Transition Out of the Scene?

For a deaf submissive, aftercare should be tailored to their sensory, physical, and emotional needs post-scene.

Do they prefer physical touch (hugs, weighted blankets, gentle stroking) to help them transition?

Does visual reassurance (written affirmations, comforting gestures) provide a better emotional grounding than spoken words?

Are there specific comfort items, foods, drinks, or routines that help them recover?

If they’ve removed cochlear implants or hearing aids, would they prefer to put them back on immediately, or do they need gradual reintegration into their usual sensory environment?

Tailoring aftercare to individual needs ensures that the submissive feels valued, safe, and emotionally supported after an intense experience.

The Importance of Pre-Scene Negotiation

A well-established pre-scene discussion ensures that both partners enter play with absolute clarity, confidence, and trust. For a deaf submissive, this process is not just about safety—it’s about accessibility, emotional connection, and creating a space where communication is effortless.

By addressing every sensory aspect of the experience, the Dominant can tailor the scene to heighten pleasure, eliminate uncertainty, and reinforce trust at every level.

Because BDSM is not just about control—it’s about understanding, adaptation, and ensuring that every moment feels intentional, immersive, and profoundly satisfying.

5. Ensuring Emotional & Physical Safety

The Dominant’s responsibility extends beyond control and intensity—it is about ensuring that their submissive feels physically safe, emotionally secure, and fully supported throughout the scene. When engaging with a deaf submissive, this requires an even higher level of attentiveness, as verbal cues are not available to signal distress or discomfort.

Safety in BDSM is not just about preventing harm—it’s about fostering an environment of absolute trust, where both partners can engage in play with confidence, security, and full awareness of each other’s needs.

Key Safety Measures

Because non-verbal communication is the primary method of maintaining control and consent, the Dominant must incorporate multiple layers of safety measures to ensure that the submissive’s well-being is continuously monitored, respected, and prioritized.

Constant Body Language Monitoring to Assess Distress

Without spoken words, body language becomes the most critical indicator of the submissive’s comfort, arousal, or distress. The Dominant must develop an acute awareness of their partner’s non-verbal cues, recognizing even the smallest changes in movement, breathing, or expression.

Key signs to monitor:

Tension in the muscles → A sudden or prolonged stiffness may indicate discomfort, pain, or distress.

Changes in breathing patterns → Shallow, rapid breathing could be a sign of panic or overstimulation, while sudden breath-holding could indicate hesitation or uncertainty.

Avoiding eye contact → If a submissive typically maintains eye contact but suddenly avoids it, this may indicate emotional withdrawal, distress, or discomfort.

Involuntary flinching or freezing → If the submissive stops reacting naturally, their body may be signaling that something feels unsafe or overwhelming.

Submissive’s physical engagement → A responsive, fluid movement indicates comfort and enjoyment, while rigidity, shrinking away, or lack of response could signal distress.

A Dominant must be able to detect distress even before the submissive consciously recognizes it, allowing for immediate adjustments without breaking the intensity of the scene.

Frequent Check-Ins Using Non-Verbal Cues

If the submissive cannot verbally communicate discomfort, the Dominant must implement regular, non-disruptive check-ins throughout the scene. These should be subtle yet effective, allowing for immediate response without breaking immersion.

Placing a reassuring hand on the submissive’s lower back, thigh, or wrist → This can act as both a grounding touch and a silent “Are you okay?” check-in.

A pre-established squeeze system → The Dominant squeezes the submissive’s hand or wrist lightly, prompting them to respond with one squeeze for ‘I’m okay’ and two for ‘I need a break.’

Eye contact confirmation → A subtle lift of the chin, a slight nod, or an intentional pause while holding eye contact can serve as a silent check-in, allowing the submissive to affirm their comfort through physical response.

Slow, intentional changes in intensity → By easing into any escalation of sensation, the Dominant provides the submissive with time to adjust, process, and indicate their comfort levels.

These check-ins ensure that the submissive remains present, engaged, and within their limits, while still allowing the scene to maintain its intensity and fluidity.

Immediate Cessation of Play if Uncertainty Arises

If there is any uncertainty about the submissive’s safety or comfort, the scene should pause or stop immediately. Because verbal reassurance is unavailable, the Dominant must trust their instincts and never ignore signs of hesitation, discomfort, or distress.

Key indicators that warrant an immediate stop:

Failure to respond to a non-verbal check-in.

A loss of responsiveness (e.g., submissive appears frozen, unreactive, or emotionally disconnected).

Rapid, shallow breathing or physical distress beyond what was agreed upon.

A safeword signal being given (hand gesture, tapping, dropping an object, etc.).

Upon stopping the scene, the Dominant should immediately engage in grounding and reassurance, using pre-established techniques to help the submissive transition out of the heightened state.

No scene is worth pushing past uncertainty. It is always better to pause, reassess, and ensure safety rather than risk emotional or physical harm.

Customized Aftercare Protocols for Grounding & Emotional Security

Aftercare is not optional—it is essential. Particularly for a deaf submissive, aftercare should be highly personalized to accommodate their unique sensory and emotional needs.

Key aftercare considerations:

Does the submissive need immediate touch or space? Some prefer tight, grounding pressure (hugs, holding hands, weighted blankets), while others need a moment to regulate alone before engaging in post-scene care.

Do they rely on visual cues to feel connected post-play? If verbal aftercare is unavailable, written affirmations, hand signals, or intentional facial expressions can help reassure them.

Reintroducing cochlear implants or hearing aids (if applicable). If they were removed during play, allowing them time to readjust before speaking or engaging can provide a smoother transition.

Physical comfort items. Blankets, favorite snacks, temperature regulation, or a preferred relaxation activity (watching a movie, drinking tea, cuddling, or journaling) can help bring them back to equilibrium.

Emotional reassurance. Without verbal confirmation, intentional, repeated physical gestures (tracing soft circles on their skin, kissing their forehead, stroking their hair) can reinforce security, care, and connection.

Proper aftercare prevents emotional drop, ensures the submissive feels valued and cared for, and reinforces a sense of safety and belonging within the dynamic.

The Role of a Dominant in Ensuring Safety

A responsible Dominant does not just control—they care, observe, adapt, and protect.

For a deaf submissive, the absence of verbal communication means that every movement, every response, and every adjustment carries weight.

It is the Dominant’s duty to understand their submissive’s body language as fluently as spoken words.

It is their role to read between the lines—to recognize hesitation before it turns into distress.

It is their responsibility to create an environment where silence is never a barrier to safety, trust, or pleasure.

Because true dominance is not about power alone—it is about the ability to hold that power with care, responsibility, and unwavering attention.

6. A Deaf Submissive is Not a Burden—They Are a Gift

BDSM is not about forcing individuals to conform to a singular mold—it is about building experiences that honor, respect, and embrace the unique needs of each participant. Power exchange is not limited to verbal commands or conventional communication; rather, it thrives on adaptability, trust, and mutual understanding.

A deaf submissive does not “complicate” a dynamic—they enrich it. They bring an intensely immersive and uniquely sensory-driven approach to submission that can transform the way power is exchanged, heightening awareness and connection between both partners. Instead of viewing accommodation as a barrier, it should be recognized for what it truly is: an opportunity to deepen trust, sharpen dominance, and explore new dimensions of control and surrender.

Reframing the Perspective

Instead of perceiving non-verbal communication as a challenge to overcome, it should be recognized as a privilege—an invitation to expand the boundaries of power exchange and experience submission in a profoundly intimate and intentional way.

6.1. Accommodation is an Honor, Not an Inconvenience

BDSM is built on trust, mutual respect, and unwavering attentiveness—qualities that are heightened, not hindered, when accommodating a deaf submissive.

Learning a new method of command is not a burden—it is a privilege. Whether through touch, eye contact, or pre-established non-verbal signals, the process of refining communication strengthens the Dominant-submissive connection in ways that verbal interactions alone never could.

Accessibility is not “extra effort”—it is an act of devotion, an affirmation of care that proves a Dominant’s commitment to their submissive’s safety and pleasure.

An adaptable Dominant is a skilled Dominant. Adjusting to silent command, sensory-based cues, and body language control only sharpens a Dominant’s ability to lead, instruct, and maintain presence without relying on words.

True Dominance is not about ease—it is about precision, awareness, and the ability to command in any circumstance. A submissive’s needs are not an obstacle; they are a doorway to a richer, more profound dynamic.

6.2. BDSM is Infinitely Adaptable—Every Dynamic is Unique

There is no single “correct” way to engage in power exchange. The most meaningful dynamics are those that evolve, shift, and adapt to fit the desires and boundaries of those involved.

A deaf submissive is not excluded from traditional BDSM structures—they are simply engaging in them through a different sensory lens.

Scenes that rely on silent command, physical guidance, and intuitive control can be even more intense and immersive than those built around verbal exchange.

The removal of verbal cues heightens the importance of non-verbal connection—a Dominant must study their submissive’s breathing, posture, muscle tension, and microexpressions to gauge their comfort, limits, and readiness.

Without words, a single glance becomes a command. A single touch becomes an order. A single moment of stillness becomes an entire conversation.

BDSM is not about limitation—it is about limitless creativity, adaptation, and mutual understanding. A submissive’s ability to hear is irrelevant to their ability to submit, obey, and surrender.

6.3. Deaf Submissives Offer a Distinctive and Enriching Perspective on Power Exchange

A deaf submissive does not “miss out” on traditional BDSM—they redefine it, reshape it, and bring an entirely unique perspective to the experience.

Their submission is deeply sensory. Without spoken words, they respond to touch, movement, breath, and unspoken intention.

They heighten a Dominant’s awareness. A Dominant must be more attuned to their partner’s body language, developing an almost instinctual understanding of their needs, reactions, and desires.

They bring a new depth to discipline and control. The absence of spoken safewords or commands demands that every movement be precise, every rule be deeply understood, and every expectation be unmistakably clear.

They create a new kind of intimacy. Communication through unspoken cues, skin-to-skin direction, and silent obedience creates a level of submission that is incredibly raw, deeply immersive, and profoundly intimate.

A deaf submissive’s presence in BDSM is not a deviation from the norm—it is a reminder that power exchange is about more than words. It is about control, trust, and the ability to command and surrender on a level that transcends language.

6.4. The True Gift of a Deaf Submissive

A deaf submissive is not a limitation, not an exception, not an accommodation to “work around.” They are a gift.

They offer a unique, powerful, and deeply enriching experience of submission—one that pushes past the limits of spoken commands and into a realm where communication is built entirely on presence, connection, and sensation.

They challenge a Dominant to be better—to be sharper, more precise, more attuned to their partner’s body and mind.

They prove that BDSM is not about fitting into a predefined role, but about redefining what power, control, and surrender can look like.

Because at its core, BDSM is not about whether a submissive can hear a command. It is about whether they can feel it.

And with the right Dominant, they will feel it in every fiber of their being.

[I do not earn any money with the links in my articles. The links provided are there to keep all of you safe!]

99 notes · View notes