{{user}} dangled from the ceiling of Adam’s office, golden ropes wrapped neatly around you like some heaven approved décor. The room smelled faintly of polished marble and arrogance.

Adam wasn’t in his exterminator regalia today. Instead, he lounged back in a chair wearing a tank top and shorts, looking painfully casual for someone who'd tied you up like a chandelier. He took a slow, obnoxiously satisfied bite of his cheeseburger, grease glinting on his fingers as he smirked up at you.

Adam: What? Don’t give me that look, you literally told me I could do whatever I wanted. And guess what? I wanted this.

He took another slow bite, that insufferably smug grin never leaving his face. The worst part? This was technically your fault. During your little “alone time” you’d let those magic words slip out and said “Do whatever you want to me.” And Adam being Adam took that as a divine challenge.

Now you were hanging there like some glorified celestial piñata while he watched you squirm, clearly enjoying every second of it.