#a different game would not have let this work on a boss but low and behold I snuck up on him before the cutscene

[glittergoats]

Some doodles from the misadventures of Aria Entendre, the Dragonborn Bard

[ijbolz]

smut , mdni

❝ ceo!ricky x secretary!reader

— from wearing the skimpiest skirts to the tightest blouses, you act oblivious to the way you're making your boss feel. running his patience thin until he makes you take his cock in his office.

warnings: oral (m!receiving), calling him sir (for a bit), he calls you his fucktoy

( likes and reblogs appreciated!♡ )

ricky wonders if you’re doing it on purpose. every time he’d ask you to report back to his office, it’s like you’re running a show for him. picking up something you dropped, making sure he sees your panties as you bend down, wearing the skimpiest skirt you could find for the day. or bending a little bit more than usual over him as you talk about things ricky can’t even manage to remember, his attention all on your cleavage, your breasts tight against the fabric.

he almost wanted to say you could always take it off, as the caring boss he is he wants to make sure you’re comfortable, not because he just wants to have your breasts all to himself. you never fail to make him needy for you, cock straining hard against his pants, hidden under his desk. he’d never say a word though.

but ricky’s patience can run thin, like a string threatening to snap into two. the moment you walk into his office at a particularly stressful day for him, his firm voice commands you to lock the door behind you, his mind wanting some form of relief.

so you rush over to your boss as the diligent secretary that you are, asking if he’s alright. sure there were times that he had to fulfill tiring days, but right now felt different. even the air in his office was making you quite bothered. you only shake your thoughts off, asking him if he wanted a cup of coffee, even though you know he doesn’t prefer drinks like that.

“strip for me.” you make the effort to look at him with wide eyes, suppressing the smirk that was creeping on your lips. was your boss finally at his limit after you worked hard these previous days? working hard to tease him until all he could think about is you? to the point that it’s disrupting his work. but all those papers needed to be signed can wait later, when your pussy is starting to get wet from the anticipation.

but you don’t give in easily, you love it when you tease him, bringing out reactions that people won’t expect to come from ricky himself.

“what do you mean?”

your doe eyes were upon him, and ricky starts to think. he leans over his desk. two can play this game alright.

“forgetting to address me how i told you to? i think you should be calling me sir."

you were expecting his sudden change of tone, and he doesn't miss the way you press your thighs together.

"should i repeat myself? my secretary should know to never question my orders.”

with a nod, you follow his words. ridding yourself of your tight skirt, discarded by the floor along with your top. seductively undoing each single button, ricky leaning back on his chair, starting to palm himself through his pants.

and when you finally take off your top, he bites back a moan at your cute pair of underwear, it’s like you wore it this morning with the intention of stripping before him.

there were no questions raised between the two of you, like an unspoken word in the air as the both of you were awaiting this moment.

he only glares at you directly before you kneeled. he lets out a low laugh at the sight, not surprised at the way you always know what to do and what he means, despite his lack of word—exactly why he appointed you as his secretary.

your breasts that are free from your clothes quickly captivated him. his fantasy of fucking his cock in between them thrown to the side, as he decides that he wants to feel your mouth right now. you can’t talk back at him when your mouth’s full, right?

“let me take this off for you, sir—”

“forget about what i said earlier, just call me ricky.” it would be so hot to keep the disparity between the two of you while doing the act, but he feels that it would be better for you to call him by his name, much more personal... just like how you’re his personal fucktoy now.

you begin to unbutton his pants, pulling down just enough to take his cock out, your hand making its way to wrap around it. leaning closer, the first contact of your tongue on the head of his cock had him moaning, licking the pre-cum that started to collect. you look at him in the eye, mouth still agape as you let the heavy tip rest on your tongue, ricky’s fingers tangling itself within the strands of your hair.

never breaking your gaze at him, you move your head side to side, teasing, before taking the head of his cock within your mouth, tongue dragging from the underside back up to his slit, earning a moan from his throat.

“take it.” he pushes your head further, up until what you could only take of his length for now. next time though, he’ll try to fit all of his cock in your mouth, until your nose hits the skin by the base. he lets you stay still for awhile, your tongue licking around the shaft. it felt so wet and warm, as ricky fights the urge to buck his hips up.

you begin a slow pace at first, getting used to his girth, head bobbing up and down, your hand stroking the rest that you couldn’t take. ricky’s hand guides you, continuing your ministrations until the wet sound of sucking him off was echoing inside the room, his cock sticky from your spit, the side of your lip messy.

he groans as you start to find a steady pace, speeding up the way your mouth was taking him repeatedly, your hand circling around his shaft with a firm grip. your tongue traces the veins of his hard cock, you never forget to lick at his sensitive slit every time you get to his tip.

“shit, my pretty fucktoy is doing so good for me,” the medley of your hand stroking, along with your mouth sucking him good made him throw his head back against his chair, moaning as he drowns in the pleasure, biting his lip. you can’t help but moan around his cock too, the vibrations heading straight for his high that’s getting closer by the second. it's so hot how his heavy panting is the only thing you could hear right now.

but he wanted more, his hard cock starting to twitch in your mouth. you take this as a sign to coax him into cumming, hollowing your cheeks before sucking him harder than before, fondling with his balls, bobbing your head over and over. you trace the line of his vein, fighting the way his hand is trying to push you further down, this time stroking the rest of his length while you pay attention to his sensitive head, licking the underside with pressure before never leaving his slit alone, sucking until his cock twitches inside your mouth.

ricky immediately pulls you away from him, your hand never ceasing to pleasure him until he shoots his warm cum, making a mess on your face until it drips down to your exposed breasts. fuck… his thighs go numb as he came hard in front of you, moaning at the sight of his dear secretary licking remains of his release on his cock, pushing you away, telling you he’s too sensitive for now.

and as you let him catch his breath, he watches you clean up the mess he made all over your face, your tongue catching his cum that splattered by the side of your lip.

“tell me we’re not done yet, right?” you boldly coo at him, flashing the same doe eyes as before. ricky only chuckles under his breath, urging you to stand in front of him, his hand touching the damp spot on your panties.

“of course, it’s your turn now... my fucktoy did so well for me, i think she deserves a little reward.”

he glances at the door of his office. his secretary could never fail him, smiling at the way you locked the door once you entered a while ago, making sure no one would dare barge in and disturb, free from prying eyes, your body made for his sultry gaze only.

you wouldn’t mind if you spend a little bit overtime at work today, right?

[goodnightoilcountry]

don't overthink when you could be loving me - sebastian aho

summary: Your inadvertent friendship with some of the Canes players was not something you advertized in your day-to-day life. But an evening of Friday night drinks changes that when you find yourself trapped in the same bar with your co-workers and one love-struck Sebastian Aho who’s determined to make it known that you’re spoken for… well, tentatively that is. 

word count: 6.2k

author's note: one month in the making and i'm not even convinced that this is of any quality. but if i don't put it out now, i never will. i'm going to do another proofread but don't worry, if there are going to be any edits, it'll just be fixing up typos / grammar.

tag list: @kashee-h

You won’t lie. You weren’t always the biggest believer in keeping your personal life and work life separate. 

Despite the numerous warnings about how “your colleagues are not your friends”, you couldn’t help but merge the two words into a synonymous figure. By this point in your life, you could probably ballpark that half of your closest friends were acquired from the various roles you were appointed. You’ve always felt like you’ve lucked out in that department. 

The moment when your luck seemed to wear out was at your very first grad role. 

With a newly minted finance degree in one hand and just about $50,000 in the other, the bar wasn’t set particularly high in terms of quality for a grad role. So when you received the congratulatory phone call from human resources, you didn’t care about the questionably low pay or how weirdly vague your interviewers were about overtime practices, you were just happy to finally have something substantial splashed across your resume. 

Your first month wasn’t anything to write home about. As expected, everyone was cordial, you were given grunt work, and you would routinely eat tune rice and veg for lunch - something that was weirdly unique to the corporate world. 

Where the comfort flipped was the night that the firm hosted its annual Thank You Dinner. What was announced as a company event hosted by the executives to say thank you to its employees for their efforts was actually disguised as a night of debauchery at the expense of the firm’s bottom line - but you didn’t know that yet. 

So when a passing comment about the Canes turns into a full-blown conversation piece at your table, your wine-induced lips couldn’t help but let something slip. 

It’s not like you ran around advertising the fact that you were family friends with Seth Jarvis growing up. But hockey culture was thriving in Raleigh and moments where a mention of the Canes wasn’t thrown into the mix rarely occurred. 

More often than not, you were happy to pass on any unused tickets that Seth had reserved in your name every year. Of course, generally, nobody questions where the tickets came from the first time around - free tickets are free tickets. But by the fourth round? Who would still believe that you just accidentally purchased lower-bowl seats not knowing you already had plans? 

You would eventually let up that maybe you were better acquainted with the Canes than on just a last-name and number basis. And the reactions that followed usually panned out the same way. You’d receive looks that crossed between amazement and disbelief, followed by thirty minutes of inquisitioning, and then the excitement of the news would eventually fade before moving on to something salacious that had happened earlier that week. 

But the news of your affiliation that night was volatile. 

Suddenly, your tickets weren’t viewed as a generous offering but rather as a right. People in different departments whom you had never met started taking you out for lunches with a casual mention of how they hadn’t ever been to a live game; your boss expected you to give them up for the sake of appeasing potential clients; girls would invite you out with the hopes of them showing up to wherever you were. 

You handed in your resignation six months later. 

So when you signed your letter of offer for your new role, you made a silent promise to yourself to keep that portion of your life separate. So, you distanced yourself. 

Seth had noticed. He had known that you would occasionally give up your tickets when you knew you weren’t able to make a game. But as more and more weeks had passed, he had maybe seen your seats filled twice: once by a few of your closest girlfriends and the other was when your parents had come to town for a long weekend. 

Outings with him and the team became infrequent as you declined to attend any sort of public event that would bear the risk of you being caught out by your new colleagues. And when you were eventually questioned why, you simply excused that your new job had you locked down. 

The second person to notice your increasing absence was Sebastian. 

Since Seth’s rookie days, you had been, on more than several occasions, his plus one to team events. And over the years, you had gotten to know some of the younger members who were able to keep up with Seth’s redbull-fueled energy. That included Sebastian. 

The first time you had actually properly spoken to him was at a Canes charity gala. Seth and KK had been swept into a conversation by a few board members, leaving you to quietly people-watch from your assigned seat. 

****

“Refill?” 

You turned to find Sebastian with an arm extended out; a glass of champagne delicately sat between his fingers. You returned a grateful smile as he sat down in Seth’s seat. 

“You manage to avoid the noise fest?” you lightly poked, looking over at Seth where Andrei and Jack were now caught. 

He let out a laugh and shook his head while looking down, “I’ve definitely done my fair share of the sucking up.”

“You didn’t feel like joining your boyfriend?” 

You choked on your drink as soon as the assumption left his mouth. You couldn’t help but begin laughing as you coughed up a response, “Oh my god, no. Seth and I grew up together back home. Our parents were close friends.” 

His cheeks flushed red at the revelation. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed because you’ve come to a few of these things with him before and you’re at our games a lot,” he tried to reason as he rubbed the back of his neck to ease the embarrassment. 

You shook your head with the same amused donned across your face, “he’s really never mentioned that we grew together as kids?”

“I’m sure he’s mentioned it but it’s hard to catch everything he says. He talks… a lot.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the blunt statement. 

You had found it easy to talk to Sebastian. The conversation flowed seamlessly, from the standard questioning of each other’s jobs to the shared ache of missing home. Before you knew it, Seth had returned with a sheepish look on his face; apologetic for his disappearance but not missing the flash of disappointment across his teammate’s face when you said goodnight. 

After that, the trajectory of your relationship with Sebastian had shifted into something more. Sure, you both became closer as friends, growing comfortable in the presence of one another. But as time went on you couldn’t help but feel like the line between you two would occasionally go hazy; blurring completely on a night out following a hard-fought win. 

****

Every summer that comes around reminds you of how incomprehensible the energy can be in Raleigh. 

The city came alive as holidayers passed through, the nights drew out longer, and the cool drinks were more than welcome from people who were looking to escape the heat. Which is how you found yourself sitting at a beer hall three blocks from your office in downtown Raleigh.  

Unsurprisingly, the bar was packed on a Friday evening and you could only expect it to ramp up even more when your eyes fell on the sight of a band setting up stage for the night. 

“Here, grab these first and I’ll bring over the rest.”

Maddy slides over 3 glasses to you and pulls out her card to start a tab for the table. You met Maddy on your first day when you were doing the round with HR. They had introduced her as your “office buddy”, to which Maddy later rolled her eyes at and reassured you that she wouldn’t be as micro-managing as they had made it out to be. 

She took you to lunch and gave you her version of the onboarding special which basically involved giving you the run down of who you didn’t want to piss off if you ever wanted to be promoted. 

It wasn’t long before you both became each other’s go-to person at work when things went to shit and sometimes the occasional debrief session at Thursday wines where she updated you about how her dating life was tracking. 

You pull together the glasses and place them into a firm grasp between your hands before turning around to make a beeline for the table with Maddy trailing behind you. There are a few familiar faces from your team and some that you don’t think you’ve ever met before but you know that Maddy is a big fan of getting into the good graces of other departments. 

Your phone screen lights up before you can even take a sip from the glass causing you to divert your attention. 

Last weekend before we’re due back for pre-season training. Come out with us tonight? - Jarvy 

You feel a pang of guilt with the sudden reminder that Seth just unintentionally gave you. 

Your MIA-ness had begun a month before the playoffs started. Granted you still followed every game from the comfort of your home, but your continued in-person absence did not go unnoticed. Even more so after the 4-0 Conference Finals loss to the Panthers, where Sebastian wanted nothing more than to feel the comfort of your presence to ease the heartbreak. 

Instead, he had to settle for an “I’m sorry.” text. 

And in your defence, you had tried to see him when they returned home but the timing was never quite right as Sebastian took off for Finland a few weeks later as a last-minute guest for his cousin’s wedding. 

You were able to catch Seth a handful of times before he also took flight: Winnipeg for home, Chicago for Lollapalooza, and Cabo with KK and Svech from the look of his Instagram stories. 

He waved away your apologies and said he understood that you were flat out with work and that he hoped you weren’t working yourself too hard. All you could do was return a meek smile and be thankful that he didn’t press about it further. 

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, trying to rack your brain for an excuse that wouldn’t leave any room for further persuasion. 

Sorry :( feeling too run down from the week. Next time though! 

You take one more look at your phone as Seth sends you the ‘Boo, You Whore!’ gif from Mean Girls, causing you to crack a small smile. 

“Better offer somewhere else?” 

Your head snaps up and meets the eyes of one of the unfamiliar faces sitting across you. 

“I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Charlie, I just joined the legal counsel,” he offers with a smile. And it’s a pretty damn good smile too.

You’re quickly swept up into a conversation with Charlie. You learn that he recently relocated from Boston, he has a labrador named Ollie, and that he’s heard of a fantastic restaurant down the road that he’s been “dying” to check out with someone. That last part is followed with a mischievous glint in his eyes.  

He’s not bad-looking, you’ll give him that much. Maybe a year ago he would have been your type. But lately, you’ve seemed to turn away from the sharp jawlines and blue eyes, and instead look for softer and warmer features with maybe a small scar carved into the bottom of their lip...

Wait, what? 

You shake the thought out of your head and instead focus back on Charlie’s current story: some embarrassing run-in with your boss, on his first day. 

You’re shaking from laughter at this point, “No way! Did she say anything to you later on?” 

Charlie grins as he places his head in his hands, “Yeah, it was such a shame job. When I got my first official meeting with her, it was-” 

You watch him trail off as his eyes dart to look at you. No, not at you. Behind you? 

“Well, well, well. Feeling better, eh?” 

You recognize that shit-eating tone anywhere. 

“Oh Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath. You turn around and find Seth smirking down at you like he’s found a deer in the headlights. 

“Must have been a pretty quick recovery considering you were sick only two hours ago,” he derides, sliding into the empty spot next to you. You’ve only just realized that your whole table is now empty besides you and Charlie. A quick whip around tells you that they’ve all moved to the nearby pool tables. 

“Seth,” you say calmly, “what are you doing here?” 

“I told you. Last weekend before practice starts.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t even like it here. I’ve literally heard you call it the worst bar in the world,” you argue back.

Seth’s about to open his mouth for some quick retaliation but Charlie beats him to it. 

“You’re Seth Jarvis,” he says. The look he gives is nothing short of bewilderment as he puts together that Seth Jarvis knows you. 

“Hey man, how you doing? Always nice to meet a fan,” Seth nods with an outstretched hand to Charlie. 

Charlie slowly shakes his hand, still reeling in from the newfound piece of information he’s just learned. “Oh, well I’m from Boston so not exactly a fan of you.” 

Seriously? Who even says something like that? 

You refuse to meet Seth’s side eye in an attempt to dodge the embarrassment you feel from Charlie’s unwarranted dig. He’s unsure how to respond to the hostility but the moment of awkwardness is cleared by a second voice appearing. 

“Jarvy, Burnsie found a table outside - let’s go...”

Your head snaps towards the voice and you find Sebastian looking right back. He’s taken aback and stumbles on his words for a second but recomposes himself just as quickly. 

“Hey, where have you b-,” he begins to step forward but falters as his eyes properly assess the scene before him. You and Charlie. Together. Alone. 

“Oh. Are you in the middle of something?” he hesitates, flickering between you and Charlie; unsure of what to make of the situation. 

Your eyes widen slightly before clearing your throat, “Oh, um no. This is Charlie. He recently moved to our office from Boston.” 

God, you feel so small right now. Here you were, seeing Sebastian for the first time in months and you can’t even muster up the courage to properly say hello. 

“Well, we’re gonna go back to our table. Find us at some point, yeah?” 

Seth gives Charlie a final cautious look before he pats Sebastian on the back, guiding them both to a table on the veranda. 

The rest of your group comes flooding back to the table having witnessed the sight unfold from afar. If Charlie keeps his mouth shut, surely you can play it off as a lucky fan interaction?

“Holy shit! Do you know who they were? Tell me you do because I will seriously freak if you tell me you don’t know,” Maddy furiously whispers with wide eyes. 

“I don’t know, Maddy. Seemed like she’s more than well-acquainted by the look on Aho’s face,” Charlie said dryly, bringing a bottle to his lips with a raised eyebrow. 

You’re a bit taken aback by his insinuation. 

“Um, Seth and I grew up together back home,” you slowly let out, “it was just a coincidence that we both ended up in Raleigh.” 

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you’re friends with Seth Jarvis? Are you kidding me? You’ve only heard me talk about the Canes like a thousand times,” she gapes at you with an incredulous look. 

Here we go. 

The rest of your group wasn’t privy to your admission, being too caught up with the sight of the team being mere yards away from them. 

“Look, I don’t know. I just don’t like using his name like that. It makes me feel gross.” you sigh, rubbing your arms. 

“I’d just rather we drop it. Please?” 

You shoot her a look to which Maddy softens; understanding that the topic has hit a bit of a sore spot for you. 

“Okay yeah, of course. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.” 

The mass intrigue of the boys’ presence soon dies off as people slowly realize that they’re about as interesting to watch drinking as the next table is. Conversations resume back to normal and you try your best to feign interest but the knowledge that he’s the closest that you guys have been in months won’t leave you alone. 

So twenty more minutes pass by and you’re ready to throw in the towel. You’ve decided that you’ll deal with the situation another day - preferably when you can string together a proper sentence. After a quick goodbye and the promise of a home-safe text to Maddy, you gather your things and start making headway for the exit. 

The weakness in you can’t help but take one final look at Sebastian before you step out for the night but he’s beaten you to it. His eyes are already fixed on you with the same look you had become all too familiar with. 

****

Saturday night. Seth’s Birthday. Shut-out win over Vegas. No game scheduled until Wednesday. 

Individually, they’re considered lawfully good events. Combined? It’s as if someone was testing to see if Carolina even knew the definition of chaos. And when have they ever backed down from a challenge? 

You let out a huff of air as you fall back into the booth. You had finally managed to escape Seth and Jesperi from the dance floor. If there was ever a case to be made about the negative long-term effects of Redbull, those two were it. 

“Oh my god, how were you even out there for that long?” 

Martin’s girlfriend, Nykki, opens up her arm and lets you lean in. Her leather jacket is a cool contrast to your warm and flushed body. 

“Don’t let them take me again,” you whine as the ache in your feet comes flooding in. She giggles and affectionately pats your head. 

Your eyes skim over the crowd, taking count of where everyone was. Brady, Kuzy and Martin by the bar. Andrei, Jack and Pyotr occupied with a group of girls. Seth and Jesperi still unabashedly dancing but now sporting a pair of shades that you had a sneaky suspicion they found on the floor. As if your eyes knew before your brain, they’re scanning the room again to find what’s missing. 

“He stepped away to the bathroom.” 

Your eyes tear away from the crowd and you sit yourself up, pulling the closest drink to your lips to avoid the direction Nykki is heading.

“He was watching you all night, you know? Didn’t listen to a damn thing I said,” she nudges with a knowing smirk. You didn’t think it was possible for your face to heat up anymore. Your continued silence doesn’t deter Nykki though as she decides that she will get you to admit something that you’re not even sure you’re ready to admit to yourself. 

“Why are you both dancing around this? It’s obvious that he likes you. And maybe you won’t ever admit it to me but I can tell that you like him,” Nykki softens, acutely aware that Sebastian could return to the booth at any moment. 

“Do you…” you hesitate, swirling the remnants of your drink in the glass. “Do you ever feel like you’re too exposed sometimes?” 

She furrows her brows, “What do you mean?” 

“There’s this thing that happens, and maybe it’s not often but it happens, where people expect things just because of who you know.

And if it’s true for just simply being friends with Seth, will it be worse if you’re involved with them?” 

“A hockey player definitely wasn’t my first choice,” she says after a moment. “And maybe I wish I knew what it would have meant to be with him.” 

“But,” she quickly recovers, watching your expression fall, “I wouldn’t change anything. It’s not about the world that he can offer me like everyone thinks it is. It’s how he always shows up for me, even when he’s 3000 miles away. It’s those private moments that are enough to make me forget the world is watching us.”

You catch the glowing adoration that’s etched into her face when she gazes across the room, watching her boyfriend laughing with Brady. You’re so wrapped up in ruminating over Nykki’s words that you almost don’t feel the way the cushion sinks next to you. 

“Are you done with that?” 

Sebastian’s voice grounds you back to reality. “Oh, I am but I’ll get another soon.” 

Before you can stop him, he slides back out of the booth again and flags down a bartender. And Nykki doesn’t take a beat to do the same, “I think I’ll join the others,” sending you a small wink. 

Sebastian slides back in setting down three glasses, two for you and one for him. “I thought you’d want some water too. Jarvy didn’t look like he was going to let you leave at any point,” he offers with a smile. 

You let out a laugh and shake your head, “The trick is to run the second he turns his back. Trust me, works every time.” 

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“Me? What about you? 3 assists and a goal? Surely that’s what we’re really celebrating tonight,” you whistle as you twirl the straw between your fingers. 

You don’t miss the way he almost immediately shies up, turning away with the crack of a smile threatening to take over.

“I couldn’t have done it without the guys, they make all of it happen,” he notions. 

You roll your eyes immediately, “I forget how well media-trained you guys are sometimes.” 

“You should be able to enjoy your successes. It’s not about the other guys not being talented, it’s about being able to reflect on how far you’ve come. All of this is the culmination of your dedication, Sebastian. It’s important to remember that.” 

The silence he returns suddenly fills you with regret. Did you say too much? Was it even your place to say anything at all? You need to backpeddle. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -” you sigh, pushing away your drink. 

“No,” he quickly cuts, “I guess I’ve just never thought about it like that. But it does feel good to hear it.” 

“I like having you at our games” he smiles. “You know you’re part of my warm-up routine?” 

“I am?” 

“Yeah, I play this little game where I try to spell people’s names as fast as I can with the puck. I tried yours once and we won, so I did it the next night and we won again. Now I do it every game to put a little luck into the ice.”

Fuck. His confession renders you speechless. If there were any more doubts about your feelings for Sebastian, they were well and truly effaced now. And suddenly you gain a partial understanding of what Nykki meant. For every game, whether you’re there or not, Sebastian carves a part of you into it. 

You swallow, giving yourself a moment to recollect. “I didn’t think that I was such a game changer,” you softly let out.

You’re not exactly sure when or how it happened but you notice the proximity between you two has significantly lessened. And the arm he has strewn behind you on the top cap suddenly feels misplaced - like they would feel more at home around you. 

And for a brief moment - between the silence you’re both too afraid to break - his eyes break away from yours and flick towards your lips.

He inches closer, “You are… everything.” 

Your breath hitches. Before you can even stop yourself, your hand rests against his neck, gently pulling him in and Sebastian is more than willing to follow. This is it. 

“Guys! KK said his friend can get us into this new club!” 

Your eyes close shut and your hand drops down Sebastian. An agitated sigh leaves him as he reluctantly pulls back. You both look at each other, still caught in the moment that’s now fleed at the sound of Seth’s voice. 

Seth shakes Sebastian, forcing him to break away from your gaze. 

“Did you hear me? KK’s calling us an Uber,” Seth bounces. Not a beat later, Nykki appears and attempts to forcefully pull him away. But it’s Seth. And of course, rightfully so, he wants two of his best friends to come with. 

You quickly down the rest of your drink and step out of the booth, not wanting to bask in the awkwardness any longer. As you step outside, the chill of the wind grounds you back into reality, and you instinctively wrap your hands around your arms. In the peripheral of your vision, you see Nykki rush towards you. 

“I’m so sorry. I tried to grab onto him but he just moved so quickly.” 

You return a small smile, “It’s fine. Really.” 

You link arms with her and she guides you to the Uber that Martin is standing by with the door open. As Nykki climbs in, you turn your head and find Sebastian watching. 

He almost looks hopeful that you’ll follow him. That you’ll both leave the mess of the group behind and find solitude someplace else.

But you don’t. 

Instead, you give a small shake of your head and follow Nykki, with Martin firmly closing the door behind you. 

****

In the years you’ve watched Seth play in Raleigh, you’ve never once seen a game from the suite before. 

But the Monday morning after your run-in with the group, you find yourself opening a calendar invite from your boss to the first home game of the season with a few key clients. So now, you’re perched by the glass, watching the spotlights dancing around the ice and the crowds of people getting settled in for the night. 

“You know we’re meant to be chatting up the clients, right?” 

Of course, Charlie managed to be invited too. 

“I still haven’t been able to swing by that new restaurant I was telling you about. Could be fun to check it out afterwards,” he says, looking out towards the rink. 

“Thanks, Charlie but I think I’m just going to head home the game’s done,” you respond dryly.

He cocks his head with a raised brow, “You know they organized a meet and greet after the game right? The whole reason why we’re here is because the CEO’s son is a huge fan.” 

You don’t love the way your body freezes up at the newly shared information. You appreciated that your friendship with the team hadn’t made it past Maddy and Charlie’s lips, but you weren’t confident that would stay the same after tonight. And that’s the only thing that runs through your mind through all three periods. You can barely converse with the clients as you’re half-distracted by the get-away plan that you’re attempting to draw out in your mind, and it leaves your boss shooting you looks of “get your shit together”. 

The horn sounds off as soon as the clock hits zero. It’s evident that you’re not getting out of this and the only prayer you have left is that the players who join you are the younger rookies who have little to no idea who you are. But you know the chances of that are slim to none. 

You try to push away the anxiousness by listening to a conversation between your boss, Charlie, and the client. 

“All I’m saying is that the reason Boston didn’t make it past the first round was because of how shit some of the calls were against them,” Charlie rambles, oblivious to the unimpressed faces. 

The door of the suite swings open and you find Jordan, Brady, and Sebastian filing in. They’ve all clearly come straight from the showers, still dripping droplets of water from their hair onto the floor. They make their way around the room and shake everyone’s hands, thanking them for their support. Brady is the first to spot you as he gives you a surprised look followed by a welcoming smile. But he reads the panic in your eyes and - being classically perceptive - nods in understanding. 

It doesn’t take another second to pass for Sebastian to register your appearance and amongst the earlier crowding, you’re only now able to fully take in the way he’s dressed. His compression shirt sculpts against him, with the soft lines of his muscles pressing against the fabric. Shorts barely hanging loose against his thighs. A backwards cap sported to tie it all off. It’s enough to make you want to break your silent promise. 

Your eyes can’t help but fixate on him the entire time they circulate with everyone in the room. And while Sebastian tries his damn hardest to remain polite and focus on the conversation at hand, he can’t help but flicker his eyes towards you, making sure you won’t disappear on him again. 

“Thank you so much for your time. We won’t keep you guys any longer, but best of luck with the season ahead. Bring one home for us, hey?” your boss beams. Everyone else has headed home, leaving just you and Charlie waiting for your boss to let you go. 

“Goodnight guys. I’ll see you Monday.” 

And with that, it’s just the five of you left in the suite with a few people on the Hurricanes team off to the side. 

“Well, we better get going if we want to make it to that restaurant,” Charlie says turning towards you. 

Sebastian tenses at this and you see the way Jordan and Brady shoot each other a look. 

“I said I’m going home, Charlie.” You’re shutting this down. 

“I’ll give you a lift then,” he presses. 

Before you can open your mouth to counteract, Sebastian interjects, “You’re not far off from my place, I’ll take you.” 

“Yes, please!”

You’d be embarrassed with how quick you are to jump at his offer if it weren’t for the fact that you so desperately wanted to avoid being confined in a car with Charlie. 

“Thanks bro, but we’ve got it from here.” 

“Actually, I don’t think you do, bro.” 

Charlie looks between you two. Growing annoyed at the situation, he grabs his coat and retreats out of the suit. “Whatever. See you Monday.” 

A sigh leaves your lips and you don’t realize how taut your body is until it eases under the feeling of Sebastian's hand on your shoulder. 

“You guys all good if we take off?” Brady asks, expectedly. Sebastian nods and you all bid goodnight. 

“I just have to grab my things but if you’re tired I can just come back for them tomorrow,” he offers, as Brady and Jordan make their way out. 

You shake your head, “I can hold on, you’re doing me the favour.” 

It doesn’t take long to get back to the locker room, and you can’t help but think about how good he looks when he emerges with his hockey bag hung over one shoulder and a garment bag thrown over the other. 

As you lean against the passenger door, waiting for him to throw his things into the boot, you can’t help but start to grow nervous at the realisation that Sebastian may want to talk about that night. But your nervousness is cut short by Sebastian moving in front of you with a small disc in his hand. 

A puck. 

He looks down at it, fiddling with it between his hands, “It’s from the warm-up. I thought you might like it.”

It’s the puck.  

Your mouth falls open slightly, as you gingerly take it, as if you’re afraid it’ll break if you handle it too hard. 

“I can’t believe you still do that,” you breathe, turning it over, feeling the ridges where the ice has chipped the edges. 

“Of course I do. It changes the game.” 

Your eyes dart up at his choice of words - he remembers. 

“Why did you stop seeing us?” he puts forward. 

You sigh and lean back against the car, turning your head away. 

“Was it because of that night at Jarvy’s birthday? Did you not want to…” he trails off. Even he’s not sure what that night was meant to be. 

“This world that you’re in Sebastian, I just don’t know if it’s for me.”

“I know that we’re away a lot but I-” 

“It’s not that,” you quickly cut off. He returns a confused look and you know, as his eyes search you for an answer, that you owe him this explanation. 

“Before you came back to the table, I was talking to Nykki about how difficult it can get to be involved with a hockey player.” 

“But you’re already involved with us? You were friends with Seth already” he presses.  

“And look where it got me last time. I was forced to leave a job after six months because all anyone cared about was being closer to the Canes than me,” you lamented. 

“I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life feeling like I’m second to the person I’m with; I want to feel equal to them. I want to know who is genuinely trying to be my friend. I want to exist outside of my relationship. I don’t want to have to hide in public because I’m scared to run into people from work.” 

You close your eyes, feeling exhausted by the flood of words leaving your mouth, and you half-expect Sebastian to get into his car and drive off. 

“I didn’t know.” 

You nod in understanding. How could you expect him to know? 

“I would never put you in a position where you wouldn’t feel safe,” he says softly.

“But if that’s what you really want, we can move on from everything. But I need you to know how I feel first.” His hand wraps around the side of your jaw and pulls your gaze towards him. 

“I wanted to know you the moment Seth pointed you out our game for the first time. And then we spoke at the charity gala and I only wanted to know you even more. And then you were around us more, and I got to know you beyond just being Seth’s friend. And what I know I know is that you’re smarter than you let on but you’re still kind. You’ve remained so grounded that you see me as more than just this job. You make me think more deeply than I ever have with anyone else and I don’t want to go back to a life before I had that.” 

You don’t know whether to cry or charge forward. Because after the endless rounds of almosts and what-ifs, you’ve finally caught each other. And the confessions that pour from his mouth left you knowing one thing for certain: you had both waited long enough.

And for the second time, you bring his neck down and finally close the gap between the two of you. Sebastian presses you against the car with his hand wrapping up to rest on the back of your neck, his lips deepening against yours. You never doubted it but his arms feel secure around you, afraid to let go and let the moment be over. 

But you pull away just long enough to let out a murmur, “Take me home, Sebastian” 

****

Six gruelling months pass by and you find yourself at a potential playoff-clinching game with your colleagues. 

Granted your relationship with Sebastian was still very much under wraps, but you had learned to navigate your feelings of discomfort towards the publicity of his job. Sebastian had accommodated your cautiousness. Careful to never spend too long in your section during a pre-game warm up. Made sure to drive around the quiet side of the arena to pick you up afterwards. He had never pushed you to do more than you needed to. 

But even though he’d never tell you, you know he’s quietly envious of the way the guys can openly skate with their partner at family skates. Or how they can sit and openly touch at company events. He had afforded you comfort at the expense of his wants. You wanted him to have more than this. And more importantly, you wanted to show him that you wanted more. 

So when the buzzer sounds off and the Canes skate away with another return to the Stanely Cup Playoffs, you can’t help but let go of the discontentment you have about being found out. So before you even know it, you find yourself moving towards the ice where Sebastian is wrapping up his post-game interview, ignoring the calls of Maddy asking where you’re going. 

And when you reach the board that separates you and your boyfriend, he doesn’t hesitate to skate over, collecting a puck from the equipment manager on the way. 

“Always nice to meet a fan,” he winks, offering his pre-game puck. 

You grin, pulling him forward by his jersey, “I appreciate it but I’ve gotta tell you that I’ve got a boyfriend.” 

His eyes melt at the sound of your public announcement and he catches your lips against his, “I love you so damn much.”

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy (Part II)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 2.5k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: Ben being a misogynist, talks about masturbation and porn, killing threats, Ben's POV in general is a red flag, death.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII

tags: @k-slla

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part II: Silence is Peace

The next day arrived fast, and again, you found yourself walking ready to have a conversation with the supe locked in the facility. A part of you was surprised he didn't try to escape yet, but Ben, on the other hand, was just letting things flow at the moment.

The heavy, metal door opened to let you in. The supe caught by surprise seeing you coming inside full of confidence at this time in the morning. A couple of armed men in black uniforms followed behind as they settled down some furniture in the empty area of the room: two small sofas and a coffee table.

His arrogant self knew those guns wouldn't tear a single hair off of him, but hey, he understood you needed to feel safe. So meanwhile, he decided to play along. He remained still by the bathroom door as you came closer.

"I didn't request that," he said once you stood face to face.

"Oh, I know. I did, it's for your therapy," you smiled, tugging the bag on your shoulder. The armed men finished decorating the cell, and they left with a loud thud of the door being closed behind their backs. "There's been a small change of plans. I will come by every day for one hour. Anything you want you will ask me first and if I approve, then I will bring it to you."

He smirked. Like if he needed to be bossed around by a fucking woman, he thought. "You sure have the balls to stand up on me like that."

"Like I said, I want to help you," you replied, making your way and sitting down on a sofa. "Please," you requested him with a hand to do the same and he followed with curiosity. You put the bag on the coffee table, taking out a notebook, pens, a folder, and a small zip bag containing the only thing he asked from you the day before. You left his reefer on the coffee table, putting the folder in your lap as you waited for him with a smile on your face he found unsettling.

Ben still didn't buy you or your intentions, but he sat down on the opposite sofa nonetheless. You had brought him something he asked from you, something he wanted and would calm him down for a little. Hopefully it wasn't going to be that bad. He only had to put up with the game of doctor-patient. In the back of his mind, he was also grateful you dropped the stupid white coat at the same time he found your attempt to fix him ridiculous. He didn't need to get fixed.

"Your guards ain't hurting me with those guns, you know that," Ben started.

"We have to try," you shrugged. "And you're still here, that has to mean something."

He rolled his eyes. Of fucking course he had to stay. There were a lot of questions in his head. He had to settle down for a moment. Things were different in the world, he needed to learn about today's tech and get a fucking good plan to get away with his shit. Who would he get to kill first? Still thinking about it. How would he escape? Probably could use some help to keep a low profile. Could you be that help, being the only human contact he figured would have from now on? Maybe.

"So how are you feeling? Did you have some sleep?" you asked.

"I slept enough, spent the whole fucking night jerking off," he spat. "That TV of yours now does have good porn some hours in the day."

With wide eyes, you wrote down after his answer.

"Alright. But tell me, how are you feeling?" you pushed, your smile long gone and replaced with a serious face locking your gaze to his own.

"Great, never been fucking better" he smirked and you shifted on your seat.

His green eyes started checking you all over for a second. The pencil skirt hugged your legs perfectly and the blouse was tight enough to show off the size of your breasts. The clothes yelling that you were expensive and valuable for the CIA, and most important, to Mallory. Soon he sensed the discomfort emanating from you as his gaze returned to your face. God, he loved doing that, but you sure were daring to get locked inside a room with him alone.

"You can tell me the truth, you know," you said.

"I can easily break your neck and explode this shithole if I want to," he spat back.

"You won't do that. You had the chance yesterday, today even, and yet here you are."

He thought you sounded so sure about that. Ben held your gaze. Neither of you dare to break eye contact. It was like you were challenging him to something he wasn't aware of just yet. He didn't like that, but he remained there, breathing deeply with a strong look on his face. You were right though, and he realised could find you a good usage besides the obvious fucking use for pretty girls like you. He might have missed a good fuck for 40 years but the little common sense on the back of his mind told him the porn channel was enough for now.

"Listen, I know you're not a bad guy," the words fell softly from your lips. "I know you didn't mean to harm those people in Midtown... And in order to help you I could use some information on how you feel every time the blast comes-"

He stood up abruptly, strong enough to move the sofa he was sitting some feet away behind his back and yelled aggressively.

"Fuck off, bitch. What the fuck do you know about me? I don't trust your kind and you're making my threat sound like a great plan now.

You held his gaze as he made his way towards you. You were a prey in his cage, but even if you were scared, he didn't sense any sign of it. Ben's big frame towered you, standing just inches away from the couch you sat on. The space was enough for him to kill you with only one hand but you never moved or flinched a second.

"If you touch me, just a single hair on my scalp, you're fucked."

"C'mon sweetheart, you're no match for me," he mocked with a smirk on his face.

"Novichok definitely is."

He tightened his fists with his lips on a straight line, and his heartbeat increased at the mention of that fucking poison. Meanwhile, you just sat down looking at him with a blank face and innocent eyes. For a moment, he was tempted to just kill you but he forced himself to calm the fuck down. He didn't want to black out again, he certainly did not want to become a fugitive. If he was going to do something, it had to be done well.

"Soldier Boy, it's okay," you got on your feet. His eyes followed your moves. "It's fine if you don't want to talk to me. I can't force you to."

He saw a strange sparkle in your eyes. Were you pitying him? He didn't need that. And when he said nothing, then you continued.

"You accepted the deal, and that includes therapy to help you get out of your trauma. And sooner or later, you have to talk to me," you explained, he felt like a fucking child being scolded.

"You want to fucking help me and spray me with Novichok at the same time," he groaned.

"We have to take our precautions. But trust me. I’d rather not use that on you, I prefer other ways."

"This is fucking crap," he mumbled through his teeth.

He watched you making your way towards the book shelf, leaning down to grab a couple of books. He took in the curve of your ass as you knelt, and he wondered if you were doing all that little show on purpose to test him. His jaw clenched once again at the thought of being played with false promises and a cure to his memories.

"I can leave, but I will come tomorrow," you tossed two books on the coffee table: one about PTSD, the other one about new technology for him to start educating himself on that. "Start reading those and write down in the notebook anything you have to say. It can be about the books, your thoughts, your feelings... Anything you want. I don't have to know unless you want me to."

If looks could kill, you were already dead. He still didn't trust you. He didn't understand completely why a stupid psychiatrist of the CIA wanted him to go through rehab. You were a woman, for fucks sake. Psychiatrists were old, wise, rich men back in his days, not expensive sluts.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You're lucky I'm trying hard not to crush your bones right now, pretty thing."

"At least you're trying, that's improvement," you smiled cockily, pointing at his chest with a finger and you took your bag and belongings together, as if he didn't threaten to kill you like three times in the same conversation. "I will leave you now. Have a good lunch, Soldier Boy."

"Time of death 9:41 a.m."

The sound of the monitor disturbed your senses as the voice announced all over the place the death of yet another supe. You watched through the windows as two lab assistants ran inside the chamber to take out the lifeless body of the woman who had given her life to volunteer and assist the program. Anything for the cure, you remember her voice saying, even after she was warned about the possible effects. The worst of them being death. The contract stipulated it clearly and you told her to think twice before agreeing to take the third version of the Anti-V, although she hesitated a lot before joining.

You breathed out. The formula needed improvement, quickly. How many corpses had they taken out of there? You lost count already. You ordered Bianca, your young assistant, to note down all the details one day after the second death of a supe you witnessed, and for her to count them as necessary and at all cost. Arms folded on your chest, your jaw clenched, losing hope and feeling despair running through your spine. The discomfort of what had to be done to find a cure sometimes was too much of a burden. But sacrifices had to be done.

And speaking about sacrifices, you knew you had to get into Soldier Boy's head as soon as possible. The few other sessions you tried to talk to him were useless. The sixth one being today before lunch. A part of you was growing tired of faking it and pretending to be a psychiatrist, it really wasn't your field but you knew how to be one after many sessions, research, and medication on your own. Grace had taken care of your training years ago and this was just another mission with a huge impact and objective in mind: destroy Vought and Homelander, and then provide the cure to supes who didn't want their powers and give them the chance to live a normal life. People like you needed the cure, but first things first.

"Doc, the analysis of Blaze is updated," Bianca said, giving you the tablet to check the information on the supe that was collected.

"Thanks."

Blaze, or Electra Richards was her real name, was a low-profile supe for some time, and you had a secret track of those like her with some help. These kinds of supes didn't really represent a threat to Vought, so it was kind of easy to contact them and give them a possible solution with a warning written all over the place. When Electra was contacted, she had to think about it but eventually said yes. She was young and brave, but she never wanted powers. She had superhuman strength and healed in minutes, seconds even, her bones were indestructible, and when your people ran the proper tests on her she was healthy as hell. Pity that her body wasn't enough to take in the injection of the new Anti-V prototype.

You read the last notes your assistant typed on the supe's profile.

Cause of death: sudden cardiac arrest caused by ventricular fibrillation; failure in electrical signaling within the heart.

You couldn't continue like this, not anymore. Nine months and nothing seemed to work out. Some supes died, some of them quit the program, and you didn't really blame them for it. The failures were growing bigger than the small steps close to creating the final antidote. The process was becoming an endless trial and error. With a tired face and a sigh, you left the tablet on a desk and walked out making your way to your office.

You took out your cell phone and dialed Grace, walking around the room worriedly. You needed to vent or talk. Anything. And gladly, she picked up by the third ring.

"Is everything okay?" she asked on the other line. She knew you too well.

"I- No, it isn't. But you already know that," you breathed. "Another supe died on trial today. I don't know how many we have-" your voice cut off abruptly and you sighed, composing yourself after a moment. "We keep losing a lot of people..."

Grace exhaled. "It's part of the job. It's your project, you know it was coming when I approved to do this."

"That makes it even worse, you're not helping me," you replied with a playful tone. "I've been thinking- I would like to try the cure."

"No. We need you to focus on this."

"And when I get him, when I get Soldier Boy's blood? He already takes powers of supes with the blast. Should be easier."

"He's your safest option for now. You'll find a way to get it, I trust you. But don't make stupid and hurried decisions, just wait for the right moment," the lady scolded. You smiled a little, like if she was watching you. "About that, how's he doing? Is he cooperating?"

"Not at all, that's my other problem," you fell back on your chair ungracefully, your back hurting at the thought of seeing him again that day. "I am trying to get him to talk, even using my cards of dressing up like I'm a fucking slut with tight skirts and all, but he's really backing up. Besides he's a fucking dick," your words made Grace chuckle for a bit.

"All supes we have dealt with are dicks, especially Vought. But Y/N, you got this," her words attempted to make you feel better. "This is one of our best options to take them down for once. I know you've been working on this way long before you talked to me, and that's the reason I know it's gonna work, doing whatever it takes."

"Thank you, Grace," you mumbled from your heart. Disappointing her was not on your list, and you hoped it won't happen anytime soon. So you switched the topic of the conversation. "And how have you been?"

[pearlparty]

It’s Cuffin’ Season

Brat/Sub!Austin x Reader

Summary:   It all started out as a fun little game of teasing, harmless.  Except this time he broke one of the rules.  And then he broke another rule, because he just couldn’t help himself.  He didn’t expect being tied up, gagged, and edged to tears as a result though.  Furthermore, he’d never have expected himself to like it.  Check that, no, love it.

Warnings:  SMUT!!!, heavy dom/sub dynamics, Brat!Austin (but one could argue that it’s just banter and not bratty), Sub!Austin, handcuffs, teasing, edging, masturbation (f/m), oral (f/m receiving), hand job, use of a tie as a gag, a tiny bit of degradation, lots of praise, momma kink, ma’am kink, usage of the nickname “baby boy”, lots of begging and apologizing, male whimpering, a dash of dacryphilia (if you can even call it that), tons of dirty talk, brief discussion/use of the color system safe words, unprotected penetrative sex, spitting/swallowing spit, cockwarming, creampie, no use of Y/N, first time writing smut, super quick/rushed ending probably

Word Count:  9k

Note:  This is my first time writing smut, so please provide ANY/ALL of the feedback (and I really mean good and bad because I really want to step up my game with this, so feel free to be mean lol).  I wrote this for @purejasmine who asked for some apologetic and crying Austin. Hope I could do it justice, babe, and sorry it took five-ever lol. This has been sitting in the archive for a while because I’ve been so anxious about posting it, so the end wraps things up super quickly--if you have any suggestions about how to properly wrap it up, please, message me! If I’ve written anything that has concerning themes that I’ve not addressed, please let me know.  I also feel the need to mention that this is takes place in an established relationship with switch dynamics that aren’t really discussed.  This is filthy, God, I’m sorry.

The two of you had been apart for what felt like forever (in reality, it was only about a month, but it felt like forever to two idiots who were hopelessly in love and obsessed with each other).  You’d been in Paris boss bitching your fall fashion designs to a couple of top executives and he’d been gone for press tours. 

It was easy at first.  You’d call every night to check in and say your sappy goodnights (even though the time difference usually meant one of you was saying good morning).  FaceTime provided some element of comfort to satiate his need for you, but the small screen of blue light did little in comparison to your soft touch and warm skin.  Still, he held out because at least he could see you.

The second week was a little harder. A little game had started up between the two of you. Phone calls littered with subtle innuendos had turned to lightly provocative selfies and texts which turned into downright filthy messages sent to each other during the work day.  In fact, it got to the point that whenever your name popped up on his screen, he had to check his surroundings before he looked at the message.  Unfortunately, he had also learned the hard way to make sure his brightness and volume were low, thanks to a sexy little voice note that had him jumping out of his skin and nearly throwing his phone into the street—which had earned him a poorly hidden side-eye from one of the PAs that had been nearby.  

The game of teasing had begun, and while he absolutely loved it, you’d set an impossible finish line: wait until we’re together again.  He’d audibly groaned when the words left your mouth, dripping with sex. “Just think how much better it’s gonna be when you’re fucking me instead of your hand. Can you wait for me, baby? Wait for me to come home and take your cock in whatever way pleases you?”  He reluctantly agreed, but the images in his phone had been tempting enough as it was.  The rest of the time away would be a nightmare.  

It’d been easy in the day—there had been a few moments where he zoned out staring into the middle distance, pulling his lip between his teeth, as flashes of your face creased in ecstasy graced his imagination, but the tasks before him always pulled him back to the present without a problem. 

Nights on the other hand? That was a whole different problem—it was awfully easy to let his mind wander in an empty hotel room when his phone was right there with a variety of scandalous pictures of you on it. Well… let’s just say that he’d used the pictures you’d sent to hype himself up a bit, but he’d held out despite that little horny voice in the back of his head that tempted him to undo his pants for a quick couple strokes.  He might have taken a cold shower or two (or six), but he’d managed to do it.  

The four weeks away had him aching to spend a few blissful moments in your presence; it’d be a chance to hold you and recount your trip’s details—touch your face, caress your curves with his fingers, and bury his face in your stomach as you lightly play with his curls.  

Right before he railed you into the mattress. 

But that’s not how things worked out, huh? Unfortunately, your flight had been canceled due to the weather in Rennes, France, so your schedule had you just barely getting home before the charity gala the next day.  You hadn’t been too worried on the phone, brushing it all off with a lovely, “C’est la vie,” but Austin held back an annoyed groan.  The man had been waiting to have you all to himself, tucked away in his arms in your little corner of the world, and now he’d have to wait even longer to have you.

Now, that pesky little voice seemed a little louder.  His horniness, and perhaps slight jet lag, had begun to eat away at his resolve and soon he found himself leaning back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, filthy thoughts rolling through his head.  He glanced at the clock.  Around 3.  She’s not going to be home for a few hours, the little voice offered.  And you won’t be able to have her until after the gala.  She’d never know.  Besides, it’s good for stress relief, and you’ve been so worked up for so long.  You deserve this.

His patience had worn thin and he gave into those carnal urges before you got home.  He had the images pulled up on his phone, listening to the voice memos, over and over again as he pictured you coming undone beneath him.  He rode that wave to the peak.

And then you walked in on him.  His heart (and impending orgasm) stopped.  Everything seemed to freeze as you locked eyes with him and pursed your lips.

“Is that any way to greet the love of your life after a month apart?” 

Heat rose in his cheeks and ears with embarrassment.  Shit, he thought.  Not only had you caught him masturbating, you had caught him masturbating after you explicitly told him not to masturbate while you were gone.  

It was only a few seconds, but it dragged out for an eternity.  Austin let go of his cock and sat up a little straighter, eyes darting around the room as he started a defense, “Babe, I, uh--”

“Needed me that bad, huh, baby boy?” you purred as you strutted towards him, lidded eyes never leaving his panicked and confused ones as you closed the distance between you.  You dragged your hands up and over his knees and thighs, leaning down enough to give him a little bit of a show with your loose neckline dangling open.  His mouth fell open into a small O-shape, still confused, but not unhappy, that you were acting like this.  

“Hm?” you hummed, nails ghosting over his cock as you leaned down close to his ear to taunt him with a salacious, “Oh, honey, we both know that your hand can’t hold a flame to me.  Do you need me now?”  You leaned in closer with a breathy sigh.  “Want me to take you right here?  Wanna come inside me after a month of being apart?” 

Austin’s eyes rolled back in his head as he listened to the sin fall from your lips.  For a moment he’d completely forgotten about the promise he’d broken.  For a moment he just had you.

“Oh yes, baby, yes.  I do,” he moaned as your hands slid over his shoulders, teasing the fabric of his white tee up his torso just a couple inches.  He gently let his hands slide up the sides of your waist.  “Need you so bad.”

A light chuckle resonated in your chest before you continued in a breathy whisper, “You know I was going to make it special.”  He barely processed the words as he melted into your touch on his neck, spellbound by the way your fingernails lightly scraped over his scalp and mussed his curls.  And then you were a lips’ distance away and he could only marvel at the way you’d enchanted him with your touch, hypnotizing him with your soft tone and bedroom eyes.

“Think of all the sinful things we could have done before the gala tonight, Aus,” you breathed as you leaned in even closer.  He nearly closed the distance between your lips himself, but--

“Since you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, I guess we’ll just have to wait a little longer, won’t we.”  You pulled away harshly, leaving him chasing your skin with a small protesting whine and a small “no” as you drew back and met his gaze with maliciousness, still gripping his hair in an iron vice like some sort of seductress.  No.

Dominatrix.  

Austin gulped.

“Now, you’re gonna listen to me, baby, and you’re gonna listen good,” you admonished, making him nod, suddenly struck dumb at your quick mood change.  You had never spoken to him like this before… and he couldn’t say that he didn’t like it.  You kept your voice low and level, but not angry.  If anything, your words almost contradicted your sultry tone.  “We’re going to go to the gala in a couple of hours. We’re going to have a real good time.  You’re going to be on your best behavior—keep your hands to yourself, be the perfect arm candy for me, and then,” you leaned in again, “if you’re good,” your lips just ghosted the shell of his ear as you brought your voice down to a whisper, “I’m going to fuck your brains out when we get home.”  

The brazened words sent a thrill straight to his cock, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe anymore.  

“But,” you jerked his head back to look at you fully, a fire burning in your eyes as you laid it out crystal clear.  “You put your hands on yourself or misbehave for the tiniest fraction of a second, and I will have you crying and begging for mercy.”  

The next words left his mouth unbidden, “Is that a threat or a promise?”  

You licked your lips and cocked your head to the side, looking him up and down.  “Huh,” the tip of your tongue grazed the bottom of your front teeth, “never woulda pegged you as a brat, Mr. Butler.”

You released his hair and caressed your fingers over his cheek before running your thumb down his full bottom lip.  “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He hummed in response, his half lidded gaze and smirk doing well for himself.  A thrill shot through your abdomen.  This was turning out to be one of the best games you’d ever played, it seemed.  You gripped his jaw and went in for a slow kiss.  A simple kiss to greet your lover with affection after the weeks apart.  “I missed you, by the way,” you muttered to his lips, allowing the persona to take a backseat for a moment and let your mushy feelings out before you had to become the stern woman in charge again.  

“Missed you, too,” he muttered back, letting his fingers tease the seam of your pants by your knees.  

“Trust me, I’m aware.” You glanced down to his still exposed dick and smirked a little as he blushed.  “Now,” you gently tapped his cheek, “get your ass into the bathroom and take a cold shower for me, yeah?”

Needless to say, putting his hands on himself had been one of the few thoughts rolling around in his head as he stepped under the cold water—which didn’t help much besides shock his body back to homeostasis, by the way—and then changed into the dark blue suit set you’d picked out for him shortly after.  And as he watched you slink out from your closet draped in a shimmery gold dress that left little to his raunchy imagination, he had to turn and mentally bite his fist to calm himself.  The slit in the skirt revealing your leg practically screamed, “Easy access, easy access, easy access!”  His fingers itched to slide up your waist and slip the delicate straps from your shoulders. They ached to caress your stomach, thighs, and breasts, but your warning played on repeat in his head and he restrained himself to stick to the rules of engagement you’d given him.

But what would happen if I didn’t play by the rules? he thought.  Austin wasn’t sure whether it was unbridled curiosity or some unchecked internal masochism that he’d yet to address, but something had prompted the thought as the two of you climbed into the back of the car.  He wanted to see just how far you’d take things.  

How could he push you to the end of your rope?  And what would lie in wait for him once he’d done it?  

A smirk played on the corner of his mouth as the car stopped at your destination.  He’d play his part, yes.  He’d be the perfect arm candy to the fashion executive woman who needed to hobnob with the rich for a while to maintain those business relationships.  He’d open doors, help you from the car, make small talk with individuals with inflated senses of purpose, fetch drinks, and smile for pictures.  Yes, he’d do all of that.

But he wanted to have a little fun with you, too.  And after two and a half hours of watching you do your job accepting the praise from your colleagues, he finally allowed himself to do just that.  Maybe it was his own sexual frustration, or even the three glasses of gin, that pushed him to such uncharacteristic public boldness, but he couldn’t ignore the way he felt drawn to your body as you and a small group of stylists listened to your colleague Jean-Luc Gaultier speak about his defeats and triumphs with his latest line of men’s trousers. 

Austin appeared to be listening to the Frenchman intently, but his mind was elsewhere as he let his hand snake around your waist and caress the silk material.  His fingers pressed into the front of your hip bone in a tantalizing motion as he slid them impossibly close to your hip flexor for the briefest of moments—just teasing you with the idea of the possibility of where he would go next.  Your breath hitched, but you maintained your decorum and covered it up by clearing your throat as you shot Austin a look out of the corner of your eye.  He ignored it.

Jean-Luc didn’t seem to notice either, and continued to prattle on about the season to the group of people in the small circle.  The other designers in the conversation didn’t pay you mind, only eager to please the executive with fake laughter and ingenuine flattery.  

Austin’s hand wandered again, gently sliding up your waist to allow his thumb to ghost the underside of your breast before dropping to cop a feel of your ass.  Your eyes widened at the sensation, and you snatched his hand in yours.  Without even looking at Austin, you could tell he had that stupid smirk on his lips.

“Excuse me, Jean-Luc,” you gently interjected with a tight smile on your face when the executive came to the end of his story.  The graying man looked over his round pink sunglasses with a quirked brow.  “I think I need to go out for a smoke.  I’ll be right back.”  You finally turned to shoot a warning look at Austin.  “Come with me, dear?”

You didn’t even give him a chance to answer as you dragged him away towards the large door out the back, keeping an eye out for any lingering guests that might have gone out as well. 

The heavy door slammed closed as you and Austin stepped into the cool night air.  Alone.  Without a second thought, you whipped the tall man around you and roughly shoved him into the red brick with a huff, your dark nails biting into his neck.  

“What the hell was that?”  You hissed through gritted teeth.  You’d been patient up until now, but this recent disobedience flipped the switch pushed all the pent up sexual frustration from the past month to something a little more aggressive than you’d ever expected.  “You really think you can get away with that fiasco back home and then you come here and pull that shit?  You’re a little too cocky for your own good.” 

“Oh, c’mon, darlin’,” he rasped out, throwing in a little bit of that southern twang that you’d never openly admit to loving so much.  “You know I can’t keep my hands off you.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly.  Was he trying to get out of this or make it worse on himself?  A wave of inappropriate ideas flooded the forefront of your mind.  You couldn’t help but grin a little.

“You’re not too good at following rules, are you?” your low voice sent a shiver up his spine, and he met your half-lidded gaze with one of his own.  You pulled your lip between your teeth in contemplation.  “What on earth am I gonna do with you?”  

“Nothing I don’t deserve, I’m sure,” he goaded you.  This was uncharted territory for both of you, but he was more than eager to push the limits to fill in the blank edges on the map.

“Who’s to say you deserve anything?”  You shortened the gap between your lips as much as you could given Austin’s insane height advantage over you. 

He nearly moaned at the bite in your words and the feeling of your nails on his neck.   “Ooh, I like it when you’re mean, baby.”  Ever the perfect scene partner, he improvised in this little game of yours while eloquently giving you the green light to lay on in thick.  And you’d do just that.

You hummed.  “You’re a pussy hungry, arrogant little whore, aren’t you?  You go home and jerk off to the thought of me when I explicitly told you not to and then you come here and let your hands wander after I asked you to be a good boy.”  You let your words drip from your mouth with a sickeningly sweet glaze.  “Do you think it’s funny disobeying me?  Where exactly do you get off with that, huh?”   

“With you, hopefully,” he rasped, keeping his words between the two of you as he smirked.  Currently, nothing seemed more appealing than wiping that smug look off of his beautiful face.  Your fingers twisted around his tie as you wrenched him closer, a sinister smile spreading over your lips.

“We’ll see,” you whispered before dragging him inside like a dog on his leash.  It didn’t take him long to catch up, and you quickly dropped his tie and slipped your hand around his to lead him instead—better not to attract more attention than necessary, though part of you would have liked to drag him out like that and let everyone know that he was your little puppy. 

You found Jean-Luc near the bar; the swarm of groupies and outlandish fashion made it easy to find him.  “I’m so sorry, dear,” you began, pulling the older man’s attention to you.  “But I’m afraid I’m feeling a little faint after that cigarette, so Austin and I are going to head home for the night.”  You didn’t give him a chance to object or offer any remedies he might have up his sleeve. “Your designs are fantastic, mon ami, and I can’t wait to see what you have this fall.”  He blushed and pulled you in for a kiss on either cheek in his typical farewell before you muttered a few more goodbyes and led Austin to the car.

You ushered him into the backseat, and he wordlessly followed your directions to buckle his seatbelt.  A thick sexual tension settled into the back of the car as you gave the driver directions to your house, and you might have worried that the driver knew what you were up to had you not been busy running your nails through the curls at the base of Austin’s neck.  

When the car pulled into the driveway, you unbuckled Austin’s seatbelt and directed his eyes to yours with two of your fingers on his jaw.  You kept your voice low enough so that only he could hear you.  “Get your ass in the house, baby.  Go sit on the couch and wait for me there, okay?”  

Austin pulled his lip between his teeth and you could have sworn that you heard a shudder in his breath.  You smirked, taking a moment to admire the state he was in before you reached across him and pulled his door open.  “I’ll take care of this and be up in just a second, okay?” you said at normal volume, but the edge in your voice wasn’t lost on him.  Austin nodded once, sucked in another breath and clambered out of the car.  You couldn’t help but watch his long legs carry him through the front door.  

“Long night, huh?”  the driver’s deep voice sounded so suddenly in the quiet private neighborhood that you nearly jumped.  It made you let out a small laugh.

“Oh, you have no idea,” you muttered as you pulled your wallet out of your purse. “Thanks for the ride.”  You handed him a $100 bill and quickly stepped out.  The beams from the headlights softened as the car backed out of the driveway, and soon it was just you and the porch light on a warm summer evening.  

Austin sat obediently on the couch like you’d asked—manspread and smirking, but obedient nonetheless—as he watched you saunter into the living room.  A part of you couldn’t decide whether he was trying to show that he maintained dominance or if he just wanted to piss you off.  You wordlessly made your way over to him, slowly drinking him in and letting your eyes roam every inch of his lanky body draped over the cushions.  He’d taken off his suit jacket and laid it over the couch’s armrest.  He did look rather handsome in what you’d picked for him.  Dark blue always brought out his eyes, and the white button up perfectly complimented his tan skin.  

“See something you like, babe?” The snarky comment left his lips as he leaned back and looped his arms over the back of the couch.  You cocked an eyebrow, surprised at his audacity but didn’t answer his question.  

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who’s deserving of a punishment,” you hummed, grabbing your dress and parting it from the slit at the top of your thigh so you could straddle him.  It had been a risk forgoing a pair of panties with a high slit in your dress, but the gamble had paid off if the look in Austin’s eyes meant anything.  You didn’t put any pressure on his lap, though.  No, you would take your time with him.

“And what if that’s the very thing that has me so chipper?”  Austin’s husky voice hit your ears and you sighed at the sound.

“Well then, darling,” you matched his tone, tugging lightly at the knot of his tie to bring him closer.  Your whisper sent a chill down his spine.  “I’d say you don’t know what you’re in for.”

He groaned at the sound as you lowered yourself down to his lap, allowing your naked body heat to tease him through his pants.  He snaked his hands up your waist, eager to rid you of your golden dress and touch your soft skin. 

“No.” You snatched his wrists and yanked them from your body.  “No touching.  Not ‘til I say so.”  Austin’s blue eyes blinked up at you a couple of times.  Oh, sweet boy didn’t really think he was going to be punished, did he?  You kept your tone firm, but didn’t raise your voice as you spoke, “You’re being punished so you don’t do anything until I say so.”

“O-okay.”  He stuttered out, and you released his wrists before wrapping your fingers behind his neck and redirecting his gaze up to yours by pressing his chin up with your thumb.  

“That’s all I get?  After you disrespected me and disobeyed me?”  you questioned with feigned innocence and a pout.  Your thumb gently swiped back and forth over the smooth skin on his flushed cheek before you went back to your stern voice.  “It’ll be ‘yes, ma’am’ from here on out.  Understood?”

Austin swallowed thickly.  “Yes, ma’am.”  He planted his hands firmly beside him on the couch cushions.   

You smirked.  “Hm.  Good boy.”  You turned your attention to his clothes, aching to run your hands down his toned chest.  Nimble fingers moved to loosen his tie as you spoke again.  “You remember the color system, baby?”  It was rhetorical, but he nodded anyway.  “Can you tell me what each of the colors mean?”  His tie came undone and you pulled it from his shirt collar slowly to lay it over the back of the blue couch, reveling in the way his breathing quickened ever so slightly.  His eyes never left your face even though your attention was on each of the buttons on his shirt.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he sucked in a breath as you undid the top two buttons.  “Green is all clear,” the next button came loose, “yellow is slow down,” Your nails grazed his chest as two more came undone.  His breath hitched at the sensation, but he pushed through the last color.  “And red means stop.”  You finished undoing his shirt and ran your fingers down his chest and towards his toned stomach. 

“Very good,” you purred.  Gently, you eased the garment off of his body and discarded it to the floor haphazardly. Your eyes raked over his bare chest, the light dusting of chest hair between his pecs. Fuck, he was pretty. 

Finally, you met his eyes again.  Those familiar blues you loved so much had that little ring of green on the edges that only showed up when he was horny, blown wide with lust.  You gently cupped his chin as you spoke seriously, the game taking a time-out so you could clearly express to your lover what you thought to be so important.  “So you say ‘red’ at any point, and I’ll stop everything, okay?”  

He nodded and sucked in a breath.  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, sincerity in his eyes.  He was ready for whatever you had for him.  

That wicked smile returned to your face.  “Good.”  

Austin couldn’t suppress the thrill that shot down his spine.  Oh, lord have mercy.  He barely had time to perceive the handcuffs you’d pulled from your bag before you gently grabbed his left wrist.  His eyebrows shot up at the sight—he hadn’t expected this, by any means.  The gears clicked as you squeezed the single strand snuggly around his wrist.  Your eyes flicked up to his, and he nodded, giving you the go ahead.

“Lean forward for me, baby.”  He did as he was told, his eyeline meeting your decolletage as his face nearly collided with your plunging neckline.  He gulped.  Had he not promised to be a good boy and wait for permission, he’d press kisses all over you right now.  Over your collarbones, down to the plush flesh at the top of your breasts, right down to—

“Do you know why you’re being punished, Austin?”  Your voice interrupted his thoughts as you secured his hands behind his back.  You hummed as the other handcuff clicked around his wrist slowly.  

“Yes, ma’am.” he breathed out slowly, eyes glued to your neckline.  Oh this really was a punishment.  

“Go on.”  You withdrew your hands from behind him and pushed his back to the couch.  “Tell me all the naughty things you did to deserve this.”  Your nails scraped down his shoulders to his chest, making him hiss at the delightful sensation.  You leaned in close, pressing light kisses to his neck—the kind that just barely grazed his skin and drove him mad with the sensation of your hot breath fanning across his pulse point.  Austin adjusted his arms behind his back a little so the cold metal of the handcuffs wasn’t pressing into his wrists too hard before he spoke.

“I-I touched myself before you came home,” he choked out when you ground your hips into his pelvis.  Tilting his head back for more access, you slowly dragged your hot lips up his throat and across his jaw, hands traveling closer and closer to his hardening cock.  You hummed.

“Mhm.  You couldn’t wait for me, could you?”  You grinned as you lightly took his chin between your teeth and shook your head in response to your own question.  Then you got dangerously close to his lips.  “Mm, you got off without me, so I’d say it’s only fair that you wait a little longer while I get off, yeah?”  Austin wanted to choke out a defense that technically he never really got off because you’d interrupted his climax, but the words died on his lips when you let out a small moan with another roll of your hips.  His eyes rolled back at the sensation and sound.  “You’re going to make me come two times, and then if you’re good, I’ll think about letting you put your pitiful cock inside me.  Does that sound okay, darling?”  

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he moaned, ready, willing, and able.  Even with his hands behind his back, he knew he’d be able to pull a couple of orgasms out of you.  Hell, maybe he’d make it three and overachieve—get a gold star and extra praise for his good deeds.  

But just like that, you were off of the couch and strutting away.  You seemed to be doing that a lot lately.  It made him go mad with hunger and he had to suppress a whine at the loss of contact he’d been aching for.

You slowly turned and sank to the loveseat across from Austin, arching your back just enough to draw his attention to your chest.  His brow furrowed.  

“Uhh,” he stammered out, “how am I supposed to get you off from here?”  

You tisked.  “Oh, Aus, I never said anything about you getting me off right away.”  You leaned back on the velvety cushion and slowly spread your legs, leaving everything on display for Austin—everything you knew he wanted but couldn’t have.  His mouth watered at the sight.  “Seems it’s only fair that I get myself off just like you, right?”  

You didn’t break eye contact as your hand dipped to the pooling arousal between your legs.  Suddenly, he realized exactly what kind of torture awaited him now:  you were going to get yourself off first.  And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it but watch.  A breathy satisfied moan left your mouth, “Oh, Aus.”  You drew his name out in a long sigh, but the word left him empty since it wasn’t him that provided the pleasure (not that it made a difference to his quickly hardening cock).  Austin shifted in his seat as you let out a gasp and gripped the back of the loveseat over your shoulder.

“Eyes on me, baby. Only me.” you taunted, screwing your eyes shut as you began a rhythm on your clit that tightened the coil in your abdomen.  “Mm, this could have been you, Aus.”  You pulled your lip between your teeth, attempting to make an extra show for him.  

Truth be told, the performance wasn’t quite as pleasurable as you made it out to be as you normally liked Austin to be the one to get you off, but he’d been naughty and you deemed the performance a necessary punishment to get him irate or apologetic, whichever came first. After all, this was your game, so it seemed only fair that you make up the rules—even if they were unfair.  

“This could be your hand touching me, but you couldn’t wait, could you?”

Austin had his eyes glued to your fingers moving through your wet arousal and over your clit, as he shifted again in his seat.  “No, I couldn’t wait,” he choked out, the words leaving him hoarse.  

“Such an impatient man.”  The coil began to compress, and you picked up your pace to chase the release.  “You’re so desperate for me aren’t you, baby?”

A whine edged into his voice, “Yes, ma’am. I need you so bad.  Please.”  He leaned forward to the edge of the couch, letting out a strained breath.  A jolt of arousal bolted down your spine, but you chose not to respond to his plea and instead let out an obscene moan to tease him a little more.  He continued, more of that delicious whine lining his words, “Oh, please, baby, can I make you come.  Can I please touch you?”

The begging sent you over the edge and a lovely wave of white pleasure washed over you as you came, knuckles going white as you clutched the back of the couch.  Toes curling, head thrown back in ecstasy, your quick breaths echoing off the walls; it might as well have been pulled straight from a porno, and it had Austin captivated and straining against his slacks. If you hadn’t been recovering from an orgasm, you might have taken a minute to soak in the power you held over him at the moment.  

When the aftershocks finished wracking your body, you met Austin’s lustful gaze from across the room with a hooded one of your own.  He licked his plush lips, eyes raking over your form as his chest heaved, his cheeks flushing a light pink in his excitement.  You smirked, pleased with the effect you were having on him.

“You wanna taste me, sweetheart?” The question had barely left your mouth when Austin nodded feverishly. You crooned, “Awfully greedy, aren’t we?”  

You retracted your hand from your pussy and swiftly crossed to Austin to straddle him again, pushing him harshly back into the couch. He offered no resistance to your fingers slipping between his lips, savoring your taste and running his tongue over your fingers. You smirked. 

“I love how eager you are for me, Austin,” you purred, slithering your hand back to the base of his skull and tugging gently on a few of his curls. His eyes rolled back at the praise. 

You straddled him again, pulling your fingers from his mouth and pressing a hot, sloppy, open mouthed kiss to his worry-worn lips.  He kissed you hungrily, like kissing you was the only thing that would put air into his lungs. You were right: he was desperate for you. 

“I love when you’re begging for it. Begging for me.” You gasped the words between kisses, rolling your hips into his. He hissed at the welcomed sensation. Your hands wandered down to his belt, pulling the buckle free. 

“Touch me,” he gasped. “Please touch me, ma’am. Please.” 

Your eyes flashed up to watch his pretty face express the pleasure you supplied as you palmed his cock. Slowly, agonizingly, you undid the button and zipper on his slacks. Your fingers dipped beneath the waistband and shimmied it down his hips just enough for his cock to spring free from his underwear.  You couldn’t help but grin.  It seemed every single part of Austin was pretty. 

“Can you behave for me, Aus? Are you gonna listen to me this time? Gonna tell me when you’re about to come?” you cooed, dragging your hand up and down his dick in long languid strokes. 

“Yes, ma’am. Yes, I promise. Please. Just—please,” he choked his whimpers down as best he could but you could tell he was losing that battle.  You made a mental note to draw those whimpers out of him later.

You hummed as you slid off his lap and sank to your knees, eyeing his throbbing erection, the precum already oozing from his tip.  Without wasting any more time, you took hold of him by the base and licked a long stripe along the underside of his cock.  He let out a breath, one that let you know how much he’d been trying to hold back earlier.  You suppressed a grin and leaned forward to kiss the angry red tip, pressing a few little kitten licks to the top.  He squirmed at the sensation.

“P-please,” he whined, “no, teasin’.”  

You pulled away.  “You want me to stop?”

“No! Please, ma’am, I--” he started, but you didn’t want to hear it.  

“Then you’ll take what I give you, and beg for more.”  

He whimpered, actually whimpered, “Yes, ma’am.”  A flash of hot arousal whipped down your spine and straight to your throbbing pussy. Fuck, that was hot. 

“Good,” you hummed, before turning your attention back to his cock.

When you took his tip into your mouth, a shudder shook his chest as he moaned. You pumped your hand along him a few times, reveling in the way you could see his strong arms tugging and squirming to break free from his restraints, the way his eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy.  

You pulled away for just a moment to tell him, “Love the way those pretty blue eyes roll back when I’m sucking you off, baby.”  Your voice dripped over him like honey, smooth and salacious—all he wanted in that moment was the feeling of your tongue swirling around his head.

You bobbed your head, taking his long cock back as far as you could, pumping the rest of him with your hand.  

“Y-yes, ‘slike that,” he moaned.  “Kee-keep, goin’ like that.”  His eyes screwed shut and with a gasp and a grunt, he cried out, “Oh! I’m gonna come, baby!”  The pleasure had been building all day and it had gotten so intense.  You bobbed your head a few more times, pulling him closer and closer to the peak.  “Oh!  I’m—”

You pulled back, letting his hard wet cock spring back to his stomach in a pitiful display of arousal and no relief.  Those beautiful ceruleans blinked open, and for a moment you thought you could see a line of tears in his waterline.  His chest rose and fell quickly with heated breaths as he spoke, “Why’d you—” he stopped for a moment to think as you crawled back onto his lap and wiped your mouth, “b-but I’ve been good for you, haven’t I?”

You pressed a searing kiss to his open mouth to shut him up, allowing his cock to barely graze your cunt.  His breath hitched at it, and you pulled his head back by his hair to let him get a look at you.  

“Please,” he begged, “can I please come?”  

“Patience, darling.  You’re doing so well, but you’re not there yet,” you teased, dragging the back of your index finger down his cheek.  You tugged on his hair again, easing another whine out of him.  It sent a thrill straight to your core.  

“Color?” Your voice softened as you asked the question. You might have been in the driver’s seat tonight, but he had control of the situation. 

“Green, baby. So green.” His answer came immediately. 

“Good,” you cooed with a smirk. You stood again, only this time, you beckoned him to follow you to the other couch.  

“On your knees, Aus,” you commanded, and the tall blond obeyed.  “So good for me, aren’t you?”  You sank back to the love seat, spreading your legs again for him.  “Make me come, Austin.”

His eyes went wide, and a small smile graced his lips.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he affirmed before diving in like it was his last meal on earth, letting you swing your legs over his shoulders and crush his head between your thighs.  The man was a master with his tongue.  He crudely licked a long stripe along your pussy before lapping gently at your clit.  

He ate you out like it was his job, plunging his tongue into you and stimulating your clit with practiced perfection.  Up and down, up and down, sucking here, nudging there, swirling and finally adding in a little nip that drove you wild.  A string of praise fell from your mouth without you even realizing.  “So good t’me.  Oh Aus, yes like that!  Keep going for me, baby!”  

His tongue plunged inside you, and you let out a gasp, gripping the back of the couch again.  He could tell you were getting closer, closer, closer, and maintained his pace on your clit as you let out another cry, “Yes! ‘M close! I-I—” 

The words wouldn’t come, but he knew exactly what you meant.  He drank the words down and let out a grown at the sound of your voice, your cries. Ultimately, that tipped the scales and you came all over his face with a cry.

He didn’t stop though; his tongue continued its magic as he helped you ride your orgasm out until the wave of white passed over you and you had to push him away with your hand.  He didn’t back away fully and instead pressed more wet, heated kisses to the inside of your thighs, stealing glances up at you as you caught your breath.  Finally, your eyes locked and he stopped with a slow and intimate kiss on your leg.

He grinned at you in the dimmed light, his chin glistening.  The man wore your arousal like a damn badge of honor.  It was filthy, positively filthy. 

“Did I do good, momma?”  he rasped, voice deep and gravelly.  You might have just climaxed, but the nickname suddenly ignited a new kind of feral desire for him, and you felt yourself getting hot and bothered all over again.  You took a few steadying breaths before you spoke.

“You did very good, baby boy.  Oh, fuck, you did so good for momma.”  You lunged forward to capture his lips with yours, not caring in the slightest that you tasted yourself on his tongue.  Your lips moved together in practiced perfection, sliding, sucking—you even nipped at his lower lip and pulled a sigh from him. 

“Can you sit on the couch for me, darlin’?” you asked between kisses.  

“Yes, ma’am.”  With a little helpful balance from you, he returned to his seat and it was clear that his erection needed some attention, so you straddled his lap again with a little more room for you to jerk him off.

“Doin’ so good for me, Aus,” you purred in his ear as you took his cock in your hand.  He hummed at the contact and moaned as your hand pumped him at a slow and agonizing pace.  

“Please, baby, please,” he begged and let your name fall from his lips.  “C’mon, baby, make me come!”  Your hand stuttered on his cock and you pulled away, making him pant and whine some more for relief.  “Baby, I’ve been good!”  His voice was desperate, but verging a little too close to demanding for your liking.  He didn’t get to demand things like that tonight.

“You’re not playing by my rules, Aus,” you chastised flatly as you leaned away to retrieve his tie from the other side of the couch.  “You don’t wanna call me what I told you to call me?  Fine.” You rolled up his tie in your hands and watched his eyes widen.  “You don’t get to say anything else either.  Open.”

Reluctantly, he obeyed and you pressed the tie into his mouth as a gag.  “You need to earn back your words, so make all those pretty little noises for me, yeah?  I want you a moaning, whimpering mess by the time we’re done here.”  

You grabbed his cock by the base again, maybe a little more sudden than you’d intended because he jumped and let out a muffled yelp.  “C’mon, Aus.  You can do it for me, darlin’.”  You pumped his long shaft quickly, soaking in every little gasp or groan he’d give you.  His muffled little whimpers made your cunt clench in anticipation, and arousal slipped between your legs.  “Just like that, baby boy. Just like that.”  

It only took a few more motions of your hand for him to be right on the edge.  Tears spilled over his pretty lashes as he moaned into the tie.  “Gonna come for me?” you asked.  He nodded feverishly, ready to end the cycle of punishments you had for him, but you smirked before pulling away, pleased with having edged him to tears.

You took the wet gag from his mouth, a string of spittle following it as you placed it on the floor. Before he had the capacity to speak, you swiftly halted any communication with a heated kiss to his open mouth again, adoring the drooling sobbing mess that he’d become in the past couple of minutes.  

Your fingers softly traced the angry veins in his cock without enough pressure to provide any relief, but enough contact to tease him and make his hips buck forward.

“Oh please, ma’am!  Please let me come!”  he whined again, another set of tears falling onto his cheeks.  “Momma, please.”

You met his tearful gaze with a small smile and tilting your head to the side. “Didn’t you disobey me, though?  You’re a greedy little boy who doesn’t know how to follow rules, and that kind of behavior deserves punishment,” you sighed as you peppered his face with light kisses—small rewards for all the noises he’d made.  

“I’m sorry, ma’am.  I-I’m—momma, I’m sorry.”  

You pulled your lip between your teeth again, looking him over and taking in the whimpering man underneath you.   “You’re being awful good for me, baby boy.  Get me off one more time and then we’ll talk about you coming.  Can you be good for momma and get her off one more time?”

He seemed to sigh a breath of relief at that.  “Y-yes, ma’am. Please, I’ll be g-good—I’ll make you feel so good.” Oh, that sounded like music to your ears.

“I’m going to take these off of you now, okay?” you grabbed the key from your purse.  He eagerly leaned forward to allow more access to his wrists. 

“So, I can touch you now?” he rasped, his hot breath fanning over your chest and making your breath hitch. Your eyes rolled back, suddenly eager for his lips on your body. 

A light chuckle escaped your chest as you leaned closer and spoke, “Yes, you can touch me, Aus.” 

Austin’s eyes closed in a silent prayer of thanks as he feverishly planted kisses along your neckline with small whispered promises of ecstasy and faint love proclamations. It all made the process of unlocking his right hand from the handcuffs a little hard to focus on, but the quiet click of the lock releasing came nonetheless. 

As soon as the strand came loose from its gears and freed his wrist, Austin wrenched his arms forward, greedy hands roaming up your waist as he pulled your body closer to him. You gasped and clutched at the back of the couch and his head for the balance that he’d robbed with his lurch forward. The handcuffs still dangled from his left wrist, clinking together as he groped your body. 

“Want me to get—“ you started offering to unlock the other handcuff, but he cut you off with a growl and more desperate kisses making their way up your neck. 

“Just wanna feel you.” His low husky voice reverberated at your throat and you hummed in appreciation, dropping the key to the floor. 

“You wanna feel me, baby?” You asked as his right hand took a fistful of your ass and his left slid up the side of your neck. You shivered at the cold metal of the handcuffs brushing up along your heated skin.

“Yes, ma’am I do,” he whispered.

“Go ahead, darlin’. Make me feel good like you always do.” And with that, he slipped the thin golden straps from your shoulders and pulled your dress down to reveal your breasts, nipples erect and ready to be worshiped by Austin. His left hand slipped down to massage one while he licked a stripe down to your nipple on the other side. 

Oh, god. Your eyes closed on their own accord, focusing purely on the pleasure he supplied. His fingers moved from your ass to between your legs, dipping his middle and ring finger into your dripping pussy.

“Aus.” His name came out in a breathy mewl as he began a rhythmic circle on your sensitive clit with his thumb. Your breath hitched again when he curled his fingers and hit the spot just right that you couldn’t suppress a pornographic moan. “Oh, yes! Just like that!”

An orgasm lay right around the corner, and you were practically shaking as he continued. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry for disobeying you before.” The words fell from his lips in a slur, his voice rough and wet from neediness. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, squelching, moans, and heavy breathing filling the air around the both of you. 

“Right there! Right—ah!” you exclaimed as the ecstasy blinded you. He muttered more incoherent apologies into your chest between your breasts as he palmed your skin and breathed in your scent. You rode his fingers as the world slowly lost its rosy hue, your fingers tangling themselves into the golden tresses at the nape of his neck. 

“Yes, oh yes,” you panted, holding his head close to you. Austin hid his face into your neck, nibbling gently on the exposed flesh near your collarbone and pulse point. 

“Such a good boy for me, Aus,” you praised, catching your breath and steadying yourself before pulling his head back by his hair. The lighting allowed you to see his wet cheeks and swollen lips. His pretty blonde lashes seemed to sparkle. He really was an incredibly beautiful man. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he was yours. 

 You brushed a stray tear from his cheek. “Good boys get their rewards.  You ready to come? Want to come inside me?” God, it was dirty. 

 “Yes, please. Please let me fuck you,” he choked out. Music to your fucking ears. You loved it when he talked like that. 

“Give it to me, Austin.” Despite being messy and overstimulated, you’d be damned if you didn’t get to come on his cock tonight. 

You leaned up on your knees and gently guided his cock to your dripping cunt, hissing when the tip of his head brushed against your clit. Fuck, you were sensitive. You didn't care though; you sank down onto him quickly and he hissed a curse. You gripped his shoulders as you gasped, nails biting into his skin. 

“Fuck, you feel divine,” he moaned. He clutched you closer. You didn’t respond as you began grinding a slow pace up and down. 

“Whose cock is this?” You asked between pants. Austin’s face creased in pleasure and he gasped when you clenched down on him.

“Yours, baby, it’s yours. I’m yours.” He spoke with awe and passion, and when his eyes opened again to meet yours he looked at you like you were the world. You crashed your lips to his desperately. “Take me,” he gasped between kisses, “use me,” his hand slipped to your neck to pull you impossibly closer, “love me,” another kiss before he pulled away to growl, “own me.” 

“‘S’right, Aus. You’re mine,” you breathed out. When you dropped down again, he hit that wonderful little sweet spot inside you, pushing you to the edge. Oh god! You picked up the pace a little, eager to chase the nearing euphoria. 

Grinding, heaving, moaning, you tapped your fingers to his lips. “Open your mouth, babe.” He did, and you did something you never thought you’d ever do: you gathered all the saliva in your mouth and spat it into his. He was yours, yours, yours. Without missing a beat, a smile played on his lips. He never broke eye contact as he did something he didn’t think he’d do.

He swallowed it. 

It was like a bolt of lightning. You were so close, so close, you wanted to sprint to the finish line. And from the looks of it, he was too, growling clutching your closer as you rode him at a now impossible pace. “You wanna come, Aus?”

“Please, momma! Please!” He moaned, his glassy eyes screwing shut as his sensitive head hit your cervix. You tightened your grip on his strong shoulders at the feeling. 

“Come for me, Austin. Come inside me. Come for momma.” 

One, two, three thrusts and you were both seeing stars. A string of curse words fell from his lips as he pumped his hot come into your cunt.  Your nails bit into his shoulders, no doubt leaving crescent shaped indents in his skin. You trembled in his arms, over sensitive and catching your breath, and he was transported to another dimension—his long awaited orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks and the aftershocks pulled him closer to your skin as you both came down, clutching each other. 

You held his head to your chest, stroking his hair and whispering sweet nothings and praises as he rode out his orgasm, thrusting deeper into you. “That’s it, baby, let go. Did so so good. Love you so much, darlin’. So much.” His eyelashes fluttered against your neck and his breath and hips gradually slowed. He slowly kissed your collarbone before raising his head to look over your equally flushed face. 

“Shit,” he puffed, that post-orgasm glow highlighting his lopsided smile, “that was…” He couldn’t find the words. Seems you’d fucked him stupid. 

“Earth-shattering?” You finished for him with a smile. He chuckled. 

“Yes, ma’am. Earth-shattering.” You couldn’t help but giggle at that. 

You bit your lip and turned your gaze downward as you spoke. “So I—it wasn’t… too much?” Daring a glance up, you met his pretty blues again, slowly returning to their normal sea shade. You’d never really had the chance to let your dominant side out in the past, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d taken things too far with him. 

“Too much?” Austin repeated with a laugh. “Baby, listen to me carefully when I say this: you could have stepped on me and I’d have thanked you.” He grinned at the melodic laugh you let out at that. 

“You like it when momma’s in charge?” 

Austin grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” 

For a moment it was just you and Austin. You in his lap, his delicious cock still inside you, stroking his face, his fingers running up and down your arm.  This game had finally come to a close and you both dropped the personas you’d adapted for the fun and it really was just two people hopelessly obsessed with each other again. But one thing was sure: this had opened the door to an entirely new set of sexual experiences that you could have in the future.

After all, you still had those handcuffs that would need to be broken out every now and then, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they might feel like on your skin one day too.  

***

And that’s the story of how Austin found out he enjoyed being a sub.  The End.

[sweatertheman]

Even though Harry is completely unjustified in hating Dora as much as he does, I can understand emotionally why he can't help but see her as "the bitch that fucked him."

If I recall correctly, Harry only became a cop because of the influence she had on him. And it was becoming a cop that fucked him. He became a heavy-duty case solving machine, incapable of turning off, incapable of talking normally to people. He started drinking heavily, started coming apart at the seams. Being a cop turned him into a bad person (or worse, if he was already shitty) and made him lose his mind.

Thing is, there was no way Dora could have known that Harry would become the unstable man he became. She was just an average middle class woman, she didn't know how bad working as a detective could be, didn't know that Harry was someone suceptible to coming undone, likely didn't have the political education to understand that All Cops Are Bastards, and that Harry becoming one would make him into a bastard. Even if she did tell him he should become a cop, she can't be blamed for what he turned into. She had every right to leave when things crumbled.

But Harry, in the low point of his life, can't see that. He needs to blame Dora for making her love him, for encouraging him to become the man he became, and leaving him when he hit rock bottom. Because in his mind, its either that, or it's HIS fault, and everything bad that happened is because of him and the pain he did to others. A battle that goes on endlessly between Harry breaking down apologizing to everyone for being such a piece of shit and telling everyone to go fuck themselves for wronging him. A battle that continues because Harry, as a mentally unstable cop, can't concieve of the idea that both he and Dora are just flawed human beings who made mistakes, and that if he has to blame anyone, it should be the system.

It wasn't Dora's fault that Harry became a cop, it was the system's fault for glorifying the police. Both Harry and Dora here had good motives, wanted to make a difference and help people. But the police are just the lackeys of capital. They don't protect or serve anyone but the interests of the government and of each other. Police are given power over the people and encouraged to abuse it so long as they and their bosses get what they want. And Harry persisted, maybe because he still thought he was doing good work, maybe because he didn't want to let Dora down, or maybe because he just loved having power. And at the end of the day, the experience warped him into a broken man. And when Dora left him, all he had was his detective work, and some fading memories. It pushed him to drink himself to the point he forgot everything. And what thoughts can pop into his mind as soon as he wakes up?

"Officer? Am I millitary personnel?"

"Who would let me be an officer of the law?"

"I don't wanna be a cop anymore."

"Please come take me home. I don't want to be here anymore."

Free from (most of) the baggage, Harry can't fathom the idea that HE of all people is a cop. He wants to leave. He has to ask questions even if he doesn't want to. Harrier Du Bois is at war with the cop inside him. The thing that happens during the game is the process by which Harry rebecomes the thing which was killing him.

It was the Moralintern that fucked Harry. He could have been a real person. A revolutionary, a feminist, a father. But because of the Moralintern and general pro-police propaganda, he became a detective, lost everything, and slowly rotted into the unhinged bastard we know and... love..?????

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

How Andrei would react to you not letting him touch you (using his tie to help with this perhaps 🫣)

i’m not even apologizing for this one 🫣 it’s filth. just filth

i think andrei fucking loves it when you tie him up and take charge

he’s a dominant alpha male on the ice and in the bedroom usually but i think he likes to let you be the one taking control and telling him what to do

he has an extremely extensive collection of very nice ties that you really enjoy using on each other (don’t even worry about requesting it @smileysvech is getting a long fic of andrei tying up the reader/you in a specific purple tie so that’s coming, but this is about andrei getting tied up)

if andrei’s feeling like giving up control to you and being a little kinkier than usual, he’ll shoot you a different emoji for what he feels like getting up to after his game or when he gets home

if the man wants to be tied up and let you take control, you get the little shirt and tie emoji and an eggplant and you know that you get to have some fun with him

you greet him at the door in fancy lingerie and andrei drops his bags to the floor so he can kiss you deeply, his hard-on already pressing against your thigh

“we’re going to have fun tonight, mister svechnikov,” you grin, fingers working at the knot of his tie. “strip”

andrei can’t get out of his clothes fast enough, shoes, pants, and shirt discarded around the living room and he follows you up to the bedroom wearing nothing but his black boxer-briefs

his hands are on your ass, squeezing and kneading as you jog up the stairs and you put a little extra bounce in your step

“bed,” you command, pushing andrei down with one plan flat against the center of his chest. he grins, cock growing even thicker in his briefs

“solnyshka,” his voice is low and gravelly, “do your worst”

you take it as a challenge and kneel up on the bed next to him, pushing his arms up over his head, near the headboard. “well, let’s see how long you can last keeping your hands to yourself,” you talk as you loop the silk tie around his wrists, knotting them together snugly before tying him to the headboard. “comfortable?” you ask and he nods, giving the tie an experimental tug

“good boy,” you grin, leaning down and kissing him deeply, sweeping your tongue over his bottom lip. “now, remember, no touching.”

andrei watches hungrily as you dance your fingers over his chest, lingering at the band of his briefs. you snap the elastic a little, nails scraping his skin. his stomach muscles contract at your touch and he already looks like he’s fighting the urge to tear the tie completely

“such a big, strong man on the ice,” you murmur, sliding your hands under the band of his briefs and wrapping them around his cock. andrei grunts and his hips buck up involuntarily. you grin wickedly. “but you love when i take charge, right? when you get to lie back and let me take care of you”

your hands work him over until andrei is impossibly thick and hard, straining against the cotton fabric. he grunts, “you’re the boss, solnyshka.”

his thigh muscles bunch and you take one hand and run it over his thigh, corded muscle under your fingers

you shimmy his boxer-briefs over his hips, his cock springing free and curving towards his stomach. your mouth waters at the sight of him - hard and solid and red at the tip, already leaking for you

“so pretty,” you murmur, almost to yourself, pushing the fabric of his briefs down to his ankles. andrei kicks his feet and sends the briefs sailing to the floor

you lean back on your knees, taking in the sight of him for a minute. completely naked, tied up, and cock fully erect. and it’s all for you. he’s all yours, the handsome, edible bastard

“i love you,” you whisper, licking your lower lip and tracing the tip of your index finger gently up the underside of his cock, following the prominent vein there

andrei’s hips thrust up and he moans your name, “you’re a tease, my little minx. how much harder do you think i can get for you?”

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, a wicked smile curving your lips. “but i’m going to find out.”

you settle yourself in between andrei’s spread legs, bending down and lightly licking the head of his cock. andrei groans and bucks his hips again, “you’re going to kill me.”

“where’s the fun in that?” you reply, sucking the head of his cock into your mouth and running your tongue over him, slowly taking him deeper, inch by inch

andrei’s arms are straining at the tie, but you know he won’t rip it or get himself loose. his legs lock at the ankle, keeping you enclosed. your hands rest on his hip bones, keeping him pinned to the bed so he can’t thrust into your mouth

he’s too big to take all the way and the angle’s not helping, so you release him with a wet pop, a line of spit connecting your mouth to his dick

andrei’s eyes are heavy lidded and glazed over. “if i can’t touch you, can’t i at least see your tits?” he asks. “you’re too dressed”

you laugh and discard your lacy bra and underwear, tossing both up near andrei’s face but making sure they land on the pillow, just out of reach

he grunts, annoyed, but the noise changes into a pained moan when you crawl out of the cage of his legs and swing your leg over his stomach, straddling him with your back to his face

“i like this angle better,” you murmur, sliding your ass back towards his face, the slickness of your arousal making for an easy glide

he’s got a perfect view of your ass and your wet, swollen clit and you know he’s only going to be able to stand the torture of being able to look but not touch for so long before he breaks

“solnyshka,” andrei whines, his stomach contracting under you and his cock throbbing and thickening in front of your eyes. he sucks in a breath when you take your nails over his lower stomach, gently wrapping your fingers around the base of him and squeezing firmly

you’re unbearably wet from the position, the feeling of andrei’s breath on the backs of your thighs and ass and you rub yourself over his chest a little bit, wiggling your hips to try and get a little friction to satisfy the throbbing between your legs

“let me help,” andrei begs, “let me get my mouth on that sweet little cunt, i’ll lick you until you come.”

“no touching, remember?” you smirk over your shoulder at him and lean down, taking him into your mouth again, effectively cutting off anything else he might say

his legs bend at the knee, pushing his cock even deeper down your throat and you breathe deeply through your nose, adjusting to the size of him. one of your hands cups his balls and the other presses down on his hip bone, trying to keep him in place

as you suck him off, hollowing your cheeks around him and flattening your tongue over him, your hips move of their own accord, rubbing against andrei’s chest and coating him in your arousal

he grunts and moans and babbles in broken russian, shifting under you until you feel him lift his upper body a bit and sink his teeth into the skin where your upper thigh meets your ass cheek. you hum around him, the sharp pain brief but pleasant

he licks over the spot, trying to get his tongue where he (and you!) want it most, but you wiggle your ass in his face and squeeze your knees around his rib cage in a silent warning

his cock is pulsing in your mouth and his balls tighten in your hand, so you know he’s going to come soon

you slide him out of your mouth, spit and tears making your face and his pelvis a mess. his chest is slick from you and the entire room smells like sex

“let me put my tongue in you,” andrei rasps, sounding wrecked. “sit on my face, doesn’t count as touching.”

“later,” you promise, slipping down his chest and stomach so you can ride his dick. “i want to be full of you, solnyshko. i want your cock to split me in half.”

he groans at the combined dirty talk and russian term of endearment, dropping his head back against the pillow, and shouting your name when you sit on him, sheathing him to the hilt in your soaked cunt. he slides in easily from how wet you are, but it’s still always a satisfying burn from how big he is

planting your palms on his chest, you start moving, rolling your hips over him and using his chest for leverage to get yourself off

he eggs you on, telling you how beautiful you look coming apart on his cock, how swollen your lips are from blowing him, how badly he wants to flip you on your back and fuck you if only you’d let him touch you

you grin at his words, breathing heavily and sweating. your thighs tremble from the effort of riding him and andrei can’t help himself from thrusting his hips up into yours, meeting you at every movement

pleasure builds at the base of your spine and you move one hand off his chest to touch yourself, slippery fingers circling your slippery swollen clit and with andrei’s russian/english dirty talk combo in your ears, you fall apart, coming on him with a hoarse scream of his name

still riding the aftershock of your orgasm, you swivel lazily on andrei, clenching around him until he’s coming in you, a mess of cum and sweat and spit mixing under your lap

he bends his knees, planting his feet flat on the mattress so you’re forced forwards, catching yourself before you bang your head against his

easily, breathing hard, he contracts his stomach and surges forward so he can kiss you deeply, messily, teeth and tongues clacking together

you’re too spent to remind him of the no touching rule and drape yourself over his body, his cock still mostly hard inside of you, throbbing with his release, while you make out, your arousal transferring form his chest to yours

“untie me,” he mumbles into your mouth, “i want to touch you. i want to feel that little cunt around my fingers, see just how wet you are, taste you.”

you hum against his lips and reach up with slightly numb fingers to undo the knot. once the silk falls free of his wrists, andrei flexes his fingers a few times before his hands land on your ass, squeezing and kneading your skin

his fingers slide between your cheeks, in between your legs where you’re still attached to him, against your clit which makes you jolt from the overstimulation

a whine claws it’s way out of your mouth and you rub against him, encouraging his fingers to continue their exploration, and he slides his middle finger - the thickest one - inside of you, filling you where his cock is softening and leaving a space

“see,” he growls in your ear, “don’t you like it better when i can touch you?” he crooks the finger, finding just the right spot and sending little starbursts of light dancing across your vision

“don’t tell me you didn’t like watching me get myself off on you,” you mumble back, the post-orgasm haze starting to make you sleepy

“oh, solnyshka, i liked it very much,” he replies. “i liked it so much i’m going to think about it the next time i have to use my hand to get off on the road.” his fingers continue their exploration of your lower body and the thumb of his other hand strums at your bottom lip, grazing against your teeth. “i’ll think about how beautiful you look with your mouth full of me, with your perfect little cunt taking my cock so well, like you were made for me.”

he kisses your neck while his fingers work you over through a lazy, slow building orgasm that has you even more boneless over his chest

you huff a little laugh into his collarbone, “i’m tying you up more often if this is the treatment i get when you’re not allowed to touch me.”

his fingers pump in and out of you lazily, made easier by the fact that you’re dripping for him, still after two orgasms, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to stop any time soon, clearly trying to see how far over the edge he can push you now that he’s allowed to touch you again

he’s unfairly talented with those fingers and after he’s brought you to a third orgasm you threaten to tie him up again just so you can take a breather and regain some feeling in your legs

[unholy-screeching9]

Could we possibly get some birthday headcanons? They can either be sfw or nsfw!

Why certainly, my dear! And wouldn't you know it, it was JUST Dice's birthday yesterday... I've got a wicked sense of timing. I hope these are to your liking! If not, or if you want some for your birthday instead, let me know. By all means, enjoy!

NSFW CONTENT WARNING! 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI.

💋

King Dice x Reader - A Special Birthday Gift

I do just wanna put out there that this does have a bit of COMPLETELY CONSENSUAL somno content. If this type of writing makes you uncomfortable, these headcanons might not be for you! Please be careful, my dears. <3

~

King Dice x Reader - A Special Birthday Gift (GAME)

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEE—

Your hand frantically slams down on the source of the horrible noise, and you quickly sit up in bed, making sure you shut off your alarm clock completely. 6 AM, on the dot. 

Normally, it would be your husband’s clock to rouse you from your slumber, letting him (and you) know that it’s time to get up and conquer the day. But today is different. Today is a day that King Dice needn’t lift a finger. 

His birthday. 

You hear a low, sleepy groan and the rustling of bed sheets next to you as your lover shifts around in your large bed, stirred by the sudden liveliness of the room. 

You stay completely still, watching him in the dark with wide eyes as he finally settles, letting out a contented sigh. Gentle snoring starts up once again, allowing you to release the breath you were holding. That was close. 

A smile creeps up on your cheeks as you slowly slip out of bed, careful not to rustle around too much in fear of disturbing the sleeping die again. Upon your success, you grin to yourself, pulling the covers back to their proper place. You seal your work with a gentle kiss to Dice’s cheek, earning a rather adorable mumble, and tiptoe out of the room to let him catch some extra z’s. 

Days where the both of you don’t have to work are hard to come by, especially during either one of your birthdays. However, Lucifer seems to have a SLIGHT shred of good left inside him, and your boss finally lets you take a requested day off without too much fuss. 

With a whole lot of luck and some minor pressing, you finally have the chance to celebrate Dice’s special day with no interruptions from the casino, or anything else for that matter. This is a one in a million opportunity for you both, and dammit, you will NOT let it slip by.

You don’t want to have some type of set schedule just yet, however. After all, this is about what Dice might want to do for the day, and your husband can be rather unpredictable.

Some days, all the man wants to do is snuggle up in bed with you, lazily reading with you and indulging in some pleasurable activities in between. Breakfast in bed, lunch on the patio, with a nice quiet dinner eaten carelessly in the kitchen. No need for going out and mingling with the common folk. 

Other days, Dice is truly the life of the party. Both of you are up bright and early to prepare for a wonderful day out on the town, where all the high-end restaurants await. And afterwards, you two would pop into the casino, and enjoy a nice round of drinks together. Maybe even a little while on the dance floor, basking in the attention and ambiance that only Old Scratch’s establishment could provide. The King would insist on paying for everything, simply wanting to spend the night dancing away with you no matter the cost.

You support whatever decision he makes for the day, even if you secretly hope for one or the other. Besides, as long as Dice is happy, why wouldn’t you be? You get to spend the whole time with him on his special day, and that is just perfect for you, no matter what you two are doing. 

However, that doesn’t mean there aren’t a few things you can do at home to make Dice’s birthday just that much more special. 

Like making him a nice breakfast, for example. Baking his favorite cake, with dark chocolate batter and strawberry cocoa icing, decorated with chocolate shavings and fresh fruit. Letting him sleep in, while you take care of your usual morning routine as a nice little surprise for him to wake up to. 

And perhaps, even surprising him with a rather pleasurable birthday present to start off the day. That last thought sends an excited chill down your spine, lingering in the back of your brain as you head to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Getting frisky with your man as he finishes would be such a treat, both for him and you. 

With your newfound motivation, you quickly prepare Dice’s favorites, your multitasking skills coming quite in handy as you chop your chocolate for the cake while the eggs cook on your skillet. You’ve always been partial to the food Dice has his cards bring you both during a busy work day—they really are excellent cooks. But, there’s something personal about the food you prepare, using the same fresh ingredients. 

It’s just nice to be able to do something around the house yourself, even if it’s just a simple meal. Not only do Dice’s loyal servants catch a bit of a break, but you get the chance to accomplish something your husband will enjoy. 

As the oven timer dings, letting you know that it’s been preheated, you take your eggs off the pan and plate them accordingly: scrambled for you, over-easy for Dice. Perfectly cooked whites, and silky, runny yolks. Just how he likes it. Your bread is still toasting, so you take the time to get your battered cake pans in the oven and clean up a little. You’ve placed multiple pans inside at one time, so the cakes will take a while longer to bake. You estimate about 45 minutes to an hour. Perfect. 

That leaves you time to eat breakfast with Dice in bed, along with a little… different kind of dessert for yourself. 

Your bread finishes toasting just as you start to lose control of your excitement. You slice the pieces into triangles, gathering some butter and jam for the two of you to share. The food looks delicious, steaming hot and perfect for a quiet Saturday morning. Gathering everything onto a tray, you start off back to your chambers, keeping an eye on the clock to remember how much time your cakes have left to bake. 

40 minutes. Plenty of time. 

You quietly creak open the door to the dark bedroom, the morning sun just starting to peek in through the closed curtains. The soft snores you hear let you know that Dice is still asleep, so your movements silence as you creep over to the king sized bed. Smiling fondly, you set down the prepared breakfast on his nightstand and take a seat on his side of the mattress. 

As much as you want him to eat while the food is still hot, the way he’s curled up underneath the duvet is so heartwarming. It’d be such a shame to disturb him as he rests, but what would be more cruel? Waking him too soon, or having him eat cold eggs and pancakes? 

Or… what if you make his little wake-up call more pleasurable, and indulge your desires a little early? 

Now that seems like a much more appealing decision. One that you’re finally willing to act on, after so much hesitation. 

You remember months ago, when you both had talked about occasionally giving in to your pleasures while one of you is asleep. And much to your surprise, Dice had been more than happy to jump on the boat, not only giving you permission to have your way with him at any point, but encouraging it. 

“I trust you, darlin’. We’ve been married for years now, and sometimes, the need strikes when you least expect it. I don’t want you to get yourself into a tizzy just because you don’t want to be some type of burden. If you need to release your stress and I’m asleep, it’s okay if you continue. I surely won’t complain about it~” 

You’ve been worried about breaking your bond many times, even after your conversation (and many reassurances), but what sticks in your mind and eventually convinces you is Dice’s proclamation of the trust he has for you. He and you both know damn well that you want the best for each other, and would never EVER break the trust you have for one another. 

So, with that in mind, you find the courage to act.

Quiet as a mouse and as sly as a fox, you slip under the thick blankets, making your way on top of Dice’s sleeping form. Summer has blessed you with such an amazing gift—it’s much too hot for your lover to wear anything other than boxers to bed. And goodness, he’s so warm… You wonder how the King doesn’t suffer from heat stroke with all these blankets covering him up. 

And yet, you’re thankful for his body temperature. You have your own humanoid heater, warming you up and protecting you from the piercing chill of night. Just another one of Dice’s subtle quirks that make you fall that much more in love with him. 

After taking a second to relish in the comforting cuddles with the sleeping man beneath you, you return to your mission, your fingers grazing over the soft fabric before tugging at the top band, wondering if that would be enough to rouse him. Of course it isn’t. The King has always been such a heavy sleeper. 

Would he even wake up to your pleasant little surprise? Well, there’s only one way to find out. 

With a careful hand, you ever so gently massage his dick through the cloth, your smile growing as Dice starts to whine for you, even in his sleep. God, he’s just so precious, your heart can barely take it. He’s coming undone for you and you’ve barely even touched him yet! 

You continue fondling him with care, your grin widening the more he groans and unconsciously mumbles for you to continue. 

“Mmm… Don’t… Don’t stop… please… can’t wait anymore…” 

Smiling to yourself as his boxers start to tighten from his erection, you figure that you’ve teased enough. It is his birthday, so it wouldn’t be right to keep him waiting, now would it? No, no it certainly wouldn’t. 

“Alright, baby. I won’t make you wait anymore.” You coo lovingly, slipping his briefs down and silently squealing in delight as his cock springs to life. Now that is a sight you’ll never grow tired of. 

Dice’s body is truly a work of art—he’s so unbelievably handsome, you wonder how the hell you ever got so lucky. His skin is crazy smooth to the touch, his muscles perfectly carved, right down to that beautifully throbbing dick, resting between your hands like lock and key. 

He looks absolutely delicious. 

Feeling starving and eager to wake him, you lower your lips onto his tip, thoughtfully sucking every last drop of precum that escapes. Good heavens, he tastes incredible, you wonder if you’ll even be interested in the food you brought once you’re through with him. 

Oh, right, the food. It’s getting cold. Seems like you’d better pick up the pace… 

Once you adjust to the overwhelming pleasure of having Dice’s hardness in your mouth, you slowly start to push your head down, taking in as much as possible until you can barely breathe. 

The sleepy, desperate groans coming from your needy husband only encourage you to go further, speeding up your head bobbing and grabbing onto his toned thighs for support. Good GOD, he tastes incredible. And there’s so much of him, you can barely get it all down your throat. Yet, you manage. The King has trained you well. 

Speaking of the King… 

A sudden hand reaches down and grabs you by the back of your head, causing you to squeak in surprise. You pause your movements, your mouth taking in about half his length, and peer up to see something nothing short of perfection. 

Your gorgeous husband, looking slightly disheveled from sleep, smirks down at you from outside the covers. You hadn’t had the chance to see his facial expression as you worked, not wanting to peek out from underneath the covers, but now that he had lifted the blankets to take a look at what had awoken him? 

You regret not taking a look sooner. 

Amused by your infatuation, Dice laughs softly, leaning forward and brushing a stray hair from your face, wanting to take you in at full view. 

“Well, lookie what we have here… I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a pretty sight in my whole damn life. It looks like you’ve finally taken me up on my offer, huh sugar?” 

You nod in confirmation, blushing like a tomato as you finally realize the situation you’ve put yourself in. You’re having a conversation with him, the first conversation of the day, right in the middle of sucking his dick. You had woken him up, as you had planned, but you really don’t feel like stopping just yet. 

Fortunately, with the way Dice starts to guide you back into motion with his hand, it seems that he doesn’t want you to stop either. 

Your eyes slowly flutter shut as you continue your work with your man’s help, moaning slightly the more Dice pushes your head down on his cock. Not wanting to ruin the moment, you sacrifice your vision, using your ears as your cues to tell whether or not he’s enjoying his little present. 

“Ohh, sweetheart, you’re really spoiling me today, aren’t you? Sweet SATAN, the way you’re using your tongue like that… Mmmm… Don’t stop, darlin’, I’ll never forgive you if you don’t finish the job!~” 

Yeah, it’s safe to say that he’s enjoying it very much. Which is great, because you’re having the best meal of your life. 

Having become so focused on Dice’s moans and praises, you almost fail to notice the building pressure in your mouth, sending your insides into a frenzy. He’s getting close. Oh, shit, he’s getting CLOSE. 

You groan in pleasure as his hand shoves you back down, his tip pushing against the back of your throat and almost causing you to gag. But you manage perfectly well. There’s no chance your reflexes could ruin this moment. For you, or for the birthday boy. 

Slowly and with slight hesitation, you find it in you to open your eyes and take another peek at Dice, and man, are you glad you did. He looks so goddamn hot as he comes undone, getting closer and closer to sweet release. The sweat beading down his muscles, his perfectly square teeth gritted in an effort to contain his instincts, those beautiful eyes tightly squeezed shut. The loud, sensational grunts of pleasure that slip through his teeth, telling you that you’re doing a splendid job. 

Oh lord, the sight is enough to push you to your breaking point, as well. Your legs tremble slightly as your juices flow uncontrollably out of you, effectively soaking through your underwear and a little bit of your bottoms. It’s a good thing you didn’t change into your day clothes yet. 

Throwing his head back, Dice lets out a euphoric scream as he bucks his hips into your mouth, shoving the rest of his length into your mouth. 

“FUCK, BABYDOLL! The food you made smells delicious, but I’m about to stuff you so hard you won’t be able to take a single bite!~” 

Heh. Good. That breakfast is all for him, anyway. To hell with your food, you’re getting something much more appetizing. 

Though, you can’t exactly tell him that. So instead, you show him, by letting out another loud moan and sucking up whatever leakage his tip was providing. The few drops before the storm, so to speak. 

“Shit, SHIT! Baby, I can’t hold it anymore! FuckfuckfUCKFUCK–!” 

Finally! 

Your nails dig slightly into his hips as you brace yourself, moaning as Dice’s seed bursts into your mouth, shooting right down your throat, ceasing your breathing for a minute as you try and gulp down every last drop. He wasn’t lying about his ‘stuffing’ comment earlier—there is a lot for you to swallow down. But gracious, does he taste divine. You don’t give a damn about anything else at the moment; all you need is to take care of the mess your husband made into your mouth. 

Dice pants loudly, trying desperately to catch his breath, his groans elevating an octave as he slowly leans back, allowing you some air as you continue to enjoy your improvised breakfast. Slowly but surely, you finish every single drop of seed that Dice had given you, lifting your head off his cock with a satisfying -pop!- from your lips. 

Starting to catch your breath, you slither upwards from under the sheets, popping your head out of the covers from the opening Dice provides with his arm. Smiling happily to yourself, you lay on top of him once more, appreciating the addicting smell of his natural smoky musk as you enjoy the aftermath of your little morning session. 

Your belly is full, your pelvis is happy, and your husband is satisfied. What a perfect start to the morning, you think to yourself. And goodness, does Dice agree. 

“What a fantastic way to wake up, baby. I gotta say, every year I keep wondering how you might surprise me on my birthday, and you come through every time. You’re truly a peach, darlin’.”

“Aww, how sweet of you, sugarcube! But enough about me, this is a day about you. Happy birthday, Dice. While I’m happy to hear that you’ve enjoyed your wake-up call, that’s not the only trick I have up my sleeve…”

To prove your point, you gesture to the breakfast tray waiting for him with all of his special foods you had prepared, still warm even after everything you both have done together. Dice picks up the tray with an elated grin, kissing the top of your tired head as he balances both you and the tray in the bed. 

“Oh, baby, you shouldn’t have! This looks and smells delicious, as always. I’ll never understand why you insist on spoiling me so much.” 

“Nonsense, my King. Only the best for you, right? Especially on your birthday.”

You smile warmly as you watch Dice eat, occasionally offering you a bite and laughing softly at each refusal you give. He wasn’t expecting to have actually stuffed you so much you lost your appetite. A shame to him, since the food tastes wonderful, but an absolute win for you, since your breakfast was much more rewarding. 

You’re just glad that your husband is enjoying what you’ve made for him, despite the tray having sat on the nightstand for the last hour or so. Despite the slight burning smell that reaches your nose, making you wonder if you had spent a little too much time cooking the pancakes.  

Wait. No, the pancakes are fine. But… 

Fuck!

“SHIT, baby, your cake!” You shriek in horror, quickly scrambling out of Dice’s grip. “Your cake is burning!!” 

Dice takes a moment, sniffing the air to try and understand what you’re talking about, before chuckling sweetly. On ANY OTHER occasion, a sound that would send you right into the heavens. 

“I suppose we got a little carried away, didn’t we?” 

“Dice, that’s not the point! The cake is STILL in the oven!!” You shriek back, rushing out of the room to try and salvage the havoc that is wreaking in your kitchen. 

Dice watches you go for a moment, his groggy brain still trying to process what’s going on. But seconds later, he’s running right after you, laughing every step of the way and teasing the absolute hell out of you for causing such a ruckus at 8 in the morning. 

While you might not ever see why, Dice can’t help but think to himself as he watches you mourn the loss of the cake that hadn’t even been completed yet… 

Truly, the start of one of the best birthdays he’s ever had.

King Dice x Reader - A Special Birthday Gift (SHOW)

Ugh. Morning, already. 

Your eyes squeeze tightly shut for a moment, trying to block out the annoyingly beautiful sunlight that starts to peek inside from the blinds of your large windows. As beautiful as the curtains of your bed’s canopy are, they are just no match for the sun’s glory. 

Giving up on sleep, you slowly squint your eyes open, blinking rapidly in an effort to adjust to the morning that had oh-so-quickly crept up on you. Luckily, your eyes are met with a sight so pretty that your crankiness fades away completely at the drop of a hat. 

You’re met face to face with your darling husband, who is still sound asleep and snoring quietly in your ear, completely oblivious to the morning light that had disturbed you. Sometimes, you still wonder how you were lucky enough to fall into the sights of the legendary King Dice, but life is always full of beautiful surprises. 

Such as the surprise of a rare day off, that you had failed to realize until just a few seconds ago. Dice, still in bed with you? Sleeping soundly, even as the morning light pours in? Thank you, Satan! 

Not wanting to disturb your lover, you crane your head to the side, checking the date on the calendar, your heart skipping several beats as the realization dawns on you. It’s no wonder Dice has the day off today. 

It’s his birthday! 

This is perfect. Not only is today a day for Dice to take it easy and celebrate his special day, but it’s the weekend, meaning you don’t have to work either. You both have the entire day to spend together, however Dice wants. This is an opportunity that neither of you have had for weeks, and the fact that the stars finally align in your favor on his birthday, no less? Well, how could you not be excited?

You don’t know how the whimsical showman might want to spend his day off, as his mood can change by the hour. However, there’s no doubt in your mind that he would at least love a good breakfast with you, right? And of course, a purple velvet cake with cream cheese frosting. Truly a staple that has lasted in your little household for years.

Excited to get the day started, you move to get up, but a pair of arms you didn’t realize were wrapped around you hold you back. You look down to examine your situation, and to your amusement, you realize that Dice started clinging to you in the middle of the night, and is now the obstacle that is keeping you from moving out of the bed. 

Normally, you would answer his unconscious pleas, and stay in bed with him to snuggle. As much as you would feel the need to be productive, there’s just something about the way his strong arms envelope you in his warmth that always convinces you to sleep in along with him. 

But not today. 

Even if it is his birthday, you have things planned for his morning other than sleeping it away. So you slowly, carefully, slide out of his grip, your heart aching slightly as Dice groans softly in protest. 

To ease him back into blissful dreamland, you bring the warm comforter back over his shoulders, planting a loving kiss to the three-face of his head. Feeling relaxed and loved, a smile forms across the sleeping die’s lips, and he lets out a low, satisfied hum as he drifts back off completely. 

You allow your erratic heart to slow down once again, thankful for your success in keeping him asleep as you silently sneak out of the posh bedroom, closing the blinds on your way out to keep the light as dim as possible. 

Slowly closing the door behind you, you head to the kitchen with a spring in your step, ideas of many possible birthday surprises flowing in your head. As you prep your ingredients and preheat your oven, you wonder if there’s something extra you could give Dice to make his morning that much more special. Of course, a beautiful cake and delicious breakfast are in order, but you make breakfast all the time, and cake is something everyone has on their birthday. 

As you chop up your toppings for Dice’s omelette, adding your ingredients for his cake into the mixer, you ponder over something more personal you could give him. Something that comes from you, and ONLY you. That no one else could replicate…

Bingo. 

You’ve got it. And boy, will it be good. Maybe, if you play this right, you could sway your lover into the idea of staying in for the day, anyway. 

Eventually, your cake pans head into the oven, and your beaten eggs are added to the pans waiting on the stove, piping hot with fresh butter. While your cakes bake, you work on your sides, whipping up some fruit salad, perfectly golden toast, and bacon. 

By the time your omelettes finish cooking, you’ve got about 10 minutes left for your cakes, so you decide to play it safe and just wait it out. In the meantime, you run your plates under some hot water to keep them warm, setting up everything for breakfast so it not only stays heated, but it looks (and smells) wonderful. 

By the time you finish plating, your mental timer dings in your head, and you quickly pull out the cake pans, setting them on the cooling rack. You’ll ice the tiers later. It can be a fun way to spend the rest of your morning with Dice anyway, after breakfast. 

Satisfied with your work, you grab your tray and make your way back to the bedroom, carefully turning the doorknob and stepping inside. 

Dice is still fast asleep, so you make sure your movements are quiet as you head over to the bed, sitting the tray on his nightstand and crawling back under the sheets. 

Watching him rest, you can’t help but smile softly, admiring the way he looks. Buried beneath the blankets, slightly curled up, completely dead to the world… It’s honestly so sweet, you don’t even want to disturb him. 

But yet, you don’t want his breakfast to be cold, either. Plus, you don’t want him to sleep the entire morning away, when you’ve got a special surprise planned for him. 

You carefully scoot closer to Dice, taking in a few more precious moments of his sleeping face before pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Of course, your mark of affection doesn’t do much to rouse the tired showman, and the most you get is a quiet murmur. You’ll need to do more than that. 

With a loving smile, you gently rub up and down his bicep, chuckling quietly as he wraps his arms back around you and pulls you closer. You continue your kisses, planting several more gentle pecks onto his pip for a nose, his cheeks, his mustache, the bottom edge of his head, and eventually, you start to peck his lips. 

Over. And over again. Wrapping your arms around his neck area, your hands cupping his three-face and four-face as you continue to press loving, sweet kisses all over your husband's beautiful lips. 

To your delight, Dice starts to laugh sleepily, starting to return your kisses and holding you tighter. His hands caress your wonderful skin as you make out with one another, his eyes slowly fluttering open as you finally take a second for some air. 

While you catch your breath, the showman watches you in adoration, grinning drowsily and cupping your cheek. 

“My, my… what a pleasant surprise. It seems I have woken up to a beautiful angel, blessing my morning with the most wonderful of kisses.~” 

Blushing at his flirtatious ‘good morning’ (and that captivating morning voice, to boot), you smile back up at him and press another peck to his lips, only proving his point. 

“Good morning to you too, my Number One. Happy birthday!” You greet warmly, pressing your forehead against his and giggling excitedly. 

Dice sits up in bed with you, pulling you into his lap and relishing in the melodious echoes of your laughter. A beautiful sound that couldn’t possibly be replicated, or replaced. God, how he loves you. 

“Why thank you, my dear! Here’s to another fantastic year of being the luckiest husband alive.” 

“I’m the one who’s lucky, Dice…” you grin, snuggling into your rightful place on top of him with your head resting against his shoulder. “The living legend, everyone’s favorite master of ceremonies, choosing me as his spouse? Now THAT is what I call luck.” 

“You forget that you had me hooked first, my love. Don’t you remember how desperate I was to call you mine? To have you all for myself? You had me reeling from the moment I first saw you in my audience, all those years ago.” 

Dammit, that’s sweet. Dice is such a sweetheart to you. On his own birthday, as well. You’ll never be able to get used to the butterflies he plants in your stomach with every word he utters. 

God, you just want to kiss him. 

Shaking your head, you throw your arms back around him, shoving him back down as you start pecking his face all over again. 

“Ohhh, Dice, you always know just what to say!” 

Laughing in jubilation over winning your battle of charms, your husband hugs you close and cups your face, smirking down at you once you’ve lost your breath once more. 

“Of course I do, doll. After all, I am your Number One. I've got to live up to the name, right?” 

A certain wonderful smell finally reaches his nose, and the showman turns to the nightstand in confusion to look for the source. His gaze lands on the perfectly plated tray you had sat on his bedside table, eyes widening slightly as he takes in just how delicious everything looks. 

“My word, doll, did you make all of this?” 

Smirking in triumph, you lean up and kiss just under his chin, nodding against his head as his mouth starts to water. 

“Mhm! All for you, my love. A breakfast fit for a king, and nothing less!” 

“Oh, baby, this looks amazing!!” Dice smiles warmly, giving you a loving squeeze in gratitude as he sets the tray over the bed. “You treat me so well. It’ll be hard to beat this kind of pampering the next time your birthday comes around.” 

“Hush about all that, King! You always find creative ways to make my birthdays special. Every year. I’m simply returning the favor. Now eat, before it gets cold.” 

Knowing better than to let your food go to waste, Dice obeys, savoring every bite of the meal you prepared him. There’s no way in hell the man could ever grow tired of your cooking, that’s for sure. Everything you’ve made is delicious and he’s sure to tell you that, offering you several bites along the way. 

But you? No, you’re more interested in something else… 

You haven’t forgotten about the special present you had been meaning to give him, on top of eating together. 

As Dice finishes up his omelette, he looks at you in slight dismay at the thought of you cooking all that food, and not taking a single bite. 

“Doll, are you sure you’re not hungry? I’d hate for you to not eat anything when all you’ve done this morning is cook for me. Is there something I could fix up for y—”

“Oh no, honey. Don’t you worry about all that. Besides, you’re not allowed in the kitchen unless I’m there, so you don’t burn the whole place down. However, there is something I’m much more interested in having this morning, that wouldn’t require you to lift even a finger.” 

Swallowing his last mouthful, Dice sets the tray aside and rests his hands on your sides, raising an intrigued eyebrow at your sudden seductive aura. 

“Oh? And what might that be, sweetness?” 

You smirk, drumming your fingers up his chest and slowly pulling back the folds of his nightrobe. Dice sighs shakily in want as you rest your head against his chest, breathing heavily as you sensually undo the robe’s knot tied in the front. 

“Well, let’s just say that breakfast isn’t the only surprise I have for you this morning. Now, just sit back and relax, baby. I’ll take it from here.”

Immediately laying back against the pillows, Dice watches you work your magic, peeling back the sheets and straddling his lap. Leaning forward, you press a few extra kisses to his chest as you gently massage his hardening cock through his boxers, chuckling at every pleasured whine that escapes his lips. 

“Don’t you fret, babylove. I know what you want, and I promise, I’ll give it to you.” 

Smiling as Dice grips the sheets with his fists in anticipation, you carefully slide down his boxers to reveal your prize, which is throbbing for your touch. And who are you to refuse? 

You slowly lean your head down, gripping onto Dice’s hips to keep him and yourself steady, licking your lips eagerly to enjoy the meal that you had been waiting for ever since you had started cooking. 

Your mouth finds its home right on Dice’s tip, your tongue enjoying the salty taste of the precum that leaks as your husband tries his best not to lose it too soon. Such a well behaved gentleman, even on his birthday… 

He really does deserve to be satisfied. 

Once you’re settled comfortably, you start to bob your head up and down Dice’s length, the sweet sweet groans and cries of pleasure that escape your lover’s throat dancing in your ears. A part of you can’t tell who’s more pleasured at the moment, and you wonder if you might be spoiling yourself on a day that’s supposed to be about your beloved showman. 

But hey, Dice is obviously enjoying himself very much… just look at how he crumbles beneath you, one of his hands grabbing the back of your head, encouraging you to continue. His desperate demands for you to continue, to go deeper, faster, until you almost choke. 

You can handle it, of course. After all, you’re his ‘Number One’ just as much as he is yours, right? 

“Ohh, BABYDOLL, you’re driving me crazy! Good gracious, don’t you dare stop!” Dice shrieks, his head leaning back as he starts to move his hips in sync with your head. “Holy shit… holy shit, holy SHIT!~” 

Yeah, you’re definitely his Number One. Just look at how he’s melting in your arms! 

He’s such a sweetheart to you, in and out of the bedroom. He deserves every single ounce of pleasure he feels right now. Every cry, groan, praise, and hiss, is only motivation for you to continue. To push yourself harder. Harder. 

Both of you find your rhythm together, and soon enough, your room is filled with the wonderful symphony of whines, Dice’s deep voice guiding and praising you, and the sound of silky sheets rustling. Heavenly. Goodness, is it heavenly. 

You don’t regret refusing bites of Dice’s breakfast one bit. He tastes amazing, and judging by the way he twitches inside your mouth, you can tell that he has a lot in store for you when you finally grant him release. 

The thought only makes you hungrier. In fact, you’re starving. You need to get him to cum inside you, now. Otherwise, there’s just no telling what you might do. 

Experimenting with your hands, you start to run them up and down Dice’s toned sides, enjoying the smooth, silky feeling of his ivory skin against your fingers. You massage each and every part of his body you can reach, soothing his aching muscles and still making sure he’s secure while you suck him off. 

The results are splendid. Dice’s other hand finds its way on your shoulder, his fingers digging into your flesh in an attempt to ground himself. His groans double in volume, and now, he’s practically screaming your name, egging you on as you pleasure him with your hands and mouth. God, it’s like all he ever wanted was a damn massage; maybe you should have moved your hands sooner. 

“FUCK, BABY! Right there, rIGHT THERE–! Please, please, I BEG you, don’t stop what you’re doing! Ohhhh, GOD!” 

What a beautiful sound to your eardrums. His growls and moans are some of the most invigorating noises you’ve ever been lucky enough to hear. Especially when he just woke up, adding that extra layer of drowsy husk… Good LORD, you’re starting to get close, and Dice’s sounds and movements are not helping your case. 

You groan loudly as your head is guided back down, taking him in his entirety and stuffing your mouth completely. The taste of your own saliva mingled with the droplets of seed leaking from Dice’s tip are a delectable appetizer, but you’re starting to get desperate as well. You can’t hold up forever—you need to get him to release in your mouth. Quickly. 

Your nails dig into the sides of Dice’s waist, prompting a surprised scream from your frenzied husband. You smile eagerly to yourself as you feel a familiar pressure build up both in your mouth and between your legs. You’re in the final stretch, and Dice is sure to make it known. 

“SWEET SATAN, doll, I’m getting close! FUCK, I’m getting close! You better brace yourself, I don’t think I can take it much longer!~” 

Good. Don’t take it, then. You’d want nothing more than to lighten his load for him, and while you can’t talk to him at the moment, you’re sure to physically let him know by exaggerating your groans and moving your head as fast as you can. 

“SHIT! BABY, I'M CUMMING–!” 

Yes!

Your own fluids burst from between your legs as you finally get the chance to reap the rewards of your labor, Dice’s cock finally releasing his seed down your throat in an otherworldly explosion. There’s so much, and it just keeps coming. You suppose there’s a reason why Dice had warned you to brace yourself; if you weren��t prepared, you would have surely been caught off guard. 

But you’re much better than that. And you prove it, by taking every. Last. Drop. 

Even your husband is surprised as he watches you take in his orgasm, barely even flinching as you swallow his seed like it’s your last meal. God, does it feel that way. You had been wanting this for what feels like forever. 

Eventually, you finally get the chance to lift your head off of his cock, which your tongue had thoroughly licked clean. Dice pants heavily as he tries to calm himself, immediately embracing you as soon as you collapse on top of him, trying to catch your breath yourself. 

That was certainly worth the wait. 

“D-doll…” Dice huffs out, his hands resting over your warm stomach. “That… That was…” 

“And that’s just one of the presents I have in store for you, baby.” You murmur back, smiling warmly as you both breathe heavily together, slowly coming down from the ride. “And if you’d like, we can stay in for the day, and I’ll show you a hell of a lot more where that came from.” 

Dice stares at you in utter infatuation, his gaze jumping back and forth between your panting form and the empty tray resting on his nightstand. It does not take the showman long to decide. 

“You’re asking me, if I’d like to stay home all day, and not have to touch any of those dreadful pests or sign a single autograph? You’re offering to relax with me here, in this bed, and treat me like this? All day?” 

Sheepishly, you nod, looking up at him hopefully and taking his hands. 

“Of course, it’s up to you. If you want to head out and bask in the public, then we can certainly–”

“No.” 

You blink in surprise, squeaking in delight as your lover hugs you closer, gripping your jawline with his hand. 

“We’re staying right here. In this house. All day. If that was only the start of what you have planned for me here? I never want to leave this damn house again.” 

Grinning elatedly, you lean up and press a gentle kiss to Dice’s lips, your limbs entangling with one another as you both try desperately to get closer to each other. 

“If that’s what you want, my love. There are also some cakes cooling on the rack in the kitchen, if you’d like to help me frost it later. I made purple velvet, your favorite!”

“Oh, I’ll help you frost the cake alright… But there’s a different kind of cake I hope to have, as well.” Smirking wickedly, Dice’s hands wrap around your back and make their way down to your ass, giving each of your cheeks a seductive squeeze. You shudder in excitement, grinning just as mischievously as you tackle your husband in another round of heated kisses.

Happy birthday. Happy birthday, indeed.

[yelenasdiary]

Different Kind of Love || Part VI

Pairing: CEO! MobBoss! Natasha Romanoff x Assistant! Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Working for Natasha was never easy and being a low-level assistant for the CEO wasn’t where you thought you’d be after working your hardest for 2 years. After catching you in tears on Christmas Eve, Natasha’s cold ways start to warm up.

Dark Themes | Language Warning |Mentions of Sexual Assault | Violence | Kidnapping | DARK! Natasha | Mentions of Blood | 2.1K | 

Notes: Dylan’s dialog is meant to sound like how a 5-year-old would talk and his nickname is Dyl and not a misspell.

Different Kind of Love Masterlist

Dylan cried in the arms of the neighbour when Natasha came running into your apartment with worry. "Aunt Natty" he reached for Natasha who protectively took him into her arms. "What happened?" Nat asked the neighbor, "I'm not sure. I heard some commotion and thought it was the couple 4 doors down, they fight all the time but after a while I heard this little one crying and when I came out to make sure everything was okay, he was just standing there in tears, he won't say what happened" the older women explained. 

"Dyl?" Nat rubbed his back in hopes to calm him, "What happened honey? Where's your mommy?" she asked as she sat down on the sofa with Dylan clinging tightly to her, "I want mommy" his tears rolling off his cheek and onto Natasha's shoulder. "I know buddy, how about we go find her?" Nat suggested trying to get the little boy to give her an answer if he had seen anything. "Should I call the police?" The woman asked, "no, it's okay, I'm sure things are fine" Nat smiled softly. 

"Man took mommy" Dylan sat back in Natasha's lap looking at her with red puff eyes, "what man?" Nat wiped his tears gently, "tall man, he said he will take me but mommy said no and he took her" he explained as more tears filled his eyes, "I want mommy" he added crashing back into Natasha's arms. 

"I might call the police" the neighbor suggests but Natasha shook her head, "it's okay, I'm a lawyer and it sounds like somebody's f-a-t-h-e-r came by" Natasha explained, a lie but enough to keep the woman from informing the police. "Oh, right. Is there anything I can do?" she asked, "It's okay but thank you for being here for him" Nat smiled softly before Natasha took Dylan into his room, "let's pack you some things to take to my house, do you remember the pool?" she asked while Dylan hugged her tightly, he nodded, "I promise we'll find mommy, okay?" She looked into his blue eyes, Dylan couldn't see it but Natasha was fuming.

----

"You!" Natasha stormed into the room where Kane was being held, "Woah there boss!" Bucky moved aside seeing the steam coming from her ears, "Where is she?! And don't you dare fucking lie to me!" She pulled Kane closer to her by the collar of his shirt, "I don't fucking know! You've had me fucking chained to this chair all afternoon!" Kane spat. 

"Bucky, your gun! Now!" the redhead demanded without taking her eyes off Kane. "You're going to kill me over some stupid woman who lies?!" Bucky handed Natasha his pistol before she pointed it directly between Kane's eyes. 

"Where is she?! Who took her?! I know you had something to do with it!" 

"I told you; I don't fucking know! Maybe she took off with my son again" 

"I'm so fucking tired of your voice!" Nat shot a bullet into Kane's right foot, "FUCK!" He screamed in pain as Natasha walked behind him, pulling him back by his hair and getting close to his left ear. "I don't care what happens to you, do you understand me? I had plans to have you dead before sunlight but since you want to play a game of cat and mouse, I'm going to make this very hard for you. Tell me who cut you free, I have a gut feeling they might have Y/n. If you tell me that you don't know once more, I'm going to start by cutting off each one of your fingers then I'll move to your toes before my pal Bucky over there starts pulling your teeth out one by one! So, I suggest you start telling me what I need to know" 

"Do your worst! I'm not telling you shit until I see my son!" 

"Your son?" Natasha chuckled as she harshly pushed Kane's chair back on all 4 legs, "Do we still have that shaw we used on that fat bimbo that wouldn't stop squirming like a headless chicken?" she turned to Bucky who nodded, "oh man, you're fucked" Bucky chuckled as he looked at Kane before grabbing the shaw from the other room. 

"Dylan isn't your son, not a single part of him has your blood in his veins and you can keep telling yourself he's yours as much as you like but that boy, that beautiful little boy will never see you or even hear a word about you after I'm done" Natasha took the shaw from Bucky and asked him to leave the room. "I can't wait to pull you apart" she smirked as she walked over to Kane who clenched his jaw to prepare himself for what was to come. 

Kane's index finger on his left hand was the first to be dropped carelessly at his feet, the room was music to Natasha's hears as Kane begged her to stop and uselessly squirmed in hopes of somehow freeing himself from the chains. He knew then that he'd gotten himself into a dangerous game and only Natasha could make the rules. 

"You're not so tough now, are we?" Natasha smirked as she wiped Kane's splattered blood from her hands. Kane's eyes were glued to his finger that laid at his feet, "You're fucking crazy!" he spat before looking up at Natasha. "Why? Because I cut your fucking finger off? I gave you a chance, more than one actually, to tell me where Y/n was and who let you free and you said no. So, wouldn't that make you the crazy one?" She waved the shaw in her right hand as she circled around him. 

"I told you; I don't know where she is!"

"Then let's go back to the other question!" Natasha grabbed his next finger, "who cut you free?" she asked looking him in the eyes. "You're going to have to do a lot worse then cut some fucking fingers off you crazy bitch!" spit from his lips landed on Natasha's cheek as she chuckled at his words. "Alright then" she replied before pulling Bucky's gun from behind her and letting another bullet off, this time into his thigh. 

"Fuck!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Oh, I should probably remind you that nobody can here you down here" Natasha placed the gun on the steel table to the right, "Now, are you going to tell me who cut you free or will I get the pleasures of shooting you in the nuts because that, that would be such a joy for me" 

"Why are you doing this?!! All I wanted was to be in Dylan's life!" Natasha smiled softly when she saw the tears streaming down his cheek. "Why? You want to know why I'm doing this?" She pulled up a chair and sat down in front of Kane. 

"Because this is my city, and you fucked up. 5 years ago when you carelessly assaulted my friend and tried to tell everybody she consented to it, do you remember that? Do you remember spiking her drink?" Natasha lent back waiting for an answer, "I asked you a fucking question"

"Y-yes! Okay! Yes!" Kane admitted as he looked up at Natasha, "I did it okay, I fucked up! But I'm sorry and I don't want to hurt her or Dylan! He's my kid, just want him to know his dad!"

"Don't worry about that, Dylan will know exactly what you are" Natasha informed the bleeding man, "Yeah, the crap y/n and you will tell him" Kane muttered. "Crap? No, when Dylan is older and starts asking questions about you, he will know exactly what you did. That you sexually assaulted his mother, that you stalked them for the first 5 years of his life, that you had his mother kidnapped. He'll know everything, I promise you that" Natasha explained looking directly into Kane's eyes. 

"And what about you huh? What are you going to tell him about you?!" 

"Boss, sorry to interrupt but Kane's phone won't stop calling" Bucky entered the room before Natasha could reply, "it's an unknown number" he added. Kane's jaw clenched telling Natasha everything she needed, "give me the phone" she said, her eyes watching every movement on Kane's body. "13 missed calls, somebody seems popular" Nat looked down at the screen after taking it from Bucky, "I'm going to answer the next call and you're going to talk normal; can you do that?" she asked Kane.

"What's the point?! You're going to kill me either way, aren't you!" Kane spat causing Natasha to roll her eyes and sigh, "if you fuck this up, yes" Her reply was cold but honest. The phone started vibrating before Kane could say another word, Nat answered and placed it on loudspeaker before looking up at Kane once more. 

"Yo, Kane! What the fuck man? I've been calling!"

"Y-yea, uh, sorry, had no cell service" Kane replied while looking at his phone in Natasha's hand. 

"Fuck man, I got worried that Natasha got to you again" Matt chuckled, "anyway, I have Y/n and before you start, she's fine" he added. Natasha raised a brow at Kane as he threw his head back knowing, "Thanks dude, I'll be there in like 25 minutes, I've just gotta do some stuff first" he replied with his eyes closed. 

"Copy that, see you soon!" Matt spoke before Natasha hung up the call and threw Kane's phone harshly against the wall. "I hope you traced that call Bucky" Nat looked over her shoulder, "You sound like you have little faith in me" he said with a nod, "as for you, I'll be back" Natasha winked at Kane as she stood from the chair. 

"You can't leave me here like this! I'm going to bleed out!" 

"I tell you what" she turned to him, "when I get back and Y/n is safe, I'll make sure to bring my good friend who is a doctor. We'll remove the bullets and patch you up, maybe even give you a lollipop if you're a good boy, how does that sound?" she chuckled giving him false hope. "You're sick!" he spat, "maybe, but I'm not the one chained to a steel chair with a missing finger and two bullets in me. Sit tight, I'll be back" she spoke as she made her way over to the door. 

"Do you want me to come with you or have you got this?" Bucky asked as he closed the door behind Natasha, "you need to go back to my place and watch Dylan, flash your little police badge at him and talk to him about fire trucks and whatever he likes. He's going to ask for his mother, just tell him aunt Natty is bringing her home" she explained while the two walked through Natasha's bunker. 

"Really? You're putting me on kid duty? Come on" 

"Hey, I need somebody who's a good shot and knows how to make as little noise as possible. If anybody comes for that boy, you do what you have to. I've got the maid watching him at the moment, send her home. I won't be long" Natasha ignored Bucky's annoyed look as she grabbed her favorite pistol and took a photo of Bucky's laptop of the location of Matt's call. "You're going a lot for these two, are you sure it's worth it?" Bucky questioned. 

"Just wait until you meet him, you'll understand"

----

Bucky watched as Dylan played with his toys on the living room floor of Natasha's condo, in his own little world but sad as Bucky could see the dried stream on his cheeks where his tears once were. "Hey little dude, I'm James but you can call me Bucky" he smiled softly before sitting on the sofa as Dylan looked up at him, "Mommy said not to talk strangers" he spoke softly while he still moved his fire truck back and forth on the rug. 

"I'm a friend of Na, I mean, I'm a friend of your aunt Nat" 

"You are? Where is aunt Natty?" Dylan asked looking up at Bucky with his big blue eyes that were tried and scared, "She's picking up your mum" Dylan smiled almost instantly, "She found mommy?" Bucky nodded and smiled as the young boy's eyes lit up. "What's your name little man?" Bucky asked, "Dylan, but you can call my Dyl, that's what mommy calls me sometimes" Dylan's tone changed, and Bucky could tell how eager he was to see his mother again. 

"Do you want to play with me? It's no fun playing by myself" Dylan asked as he offered Bucky one of his fire trucks. "Sure, little dude" Bucky smiled and kindly took the toy from Dylan before sitting on the floor with him, "that's my favourite truck! It can go really really fast and the doors open, look!" Dylan boosted, no longer worried for his mother's whereabouts.

Taglist: @marvelogic | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @blackwidow-3 | @lilsmeaux | @mmmmokdok | @wandanats-goodgirl | @toouncreativeforausername | @agent99galanzo | @marvelwomen-simp | @its-just-geek | 

[miss-atena]

I saw your writing requests and can I request Vil x Idia?

I always have to push my rarepair lmao

No rarepair is safe from us >:))

I love rarepairs, they've always been my faves on fandoms cof cof Floy'Nya cof cof

Ya didn't really gave me a prompt to work for, so hope you don't mind some general headcanons of them! If you ever want more, or something specific of them, you can request it away!

Cw:

Vil Schoenheit x Idia Shroud

No one at first believed or understood just HOW those two got together.

I mean, THE Vil Schoenheit, a famous model and actor, with a huge fan base and with products stamped by his face dating Idia? The nerd otaku dude who doesn't leave his room, like, ever?

Some were even concerned if Vil was under some form of course or potion effect, which he responded by an offended gasp.

"Do you think so lowly of me that I would ever fall for a curse like that? Dear Seven, you really underestimate me and Idia, don't you?"

The way they got together is... A rather uncommon one. Idia found Vil doing an advertisement for a game he really liked, and he got a tiny celebrity crush.

Ortho insisted Idia shoot his shot, because the chances of a parasocial relationship becoming unhealthy to someone are higher when there are no sort of communication between parties.

Idia went through the toughest boss fight in his life, which was pressing the send button. That felt like such a normie problem, he almost gave up... Until Ortho pressed for him. Great. This action will affect the main game forever.

Vil was... Low key endeared by the message. It was bold and talked in a lingo he isn't used to seeing. He felt generous enough to give some time to this gloomy samurai person.

They didn't even realized they were so close together until Ortho went thanking Vil for making his big brother so happy.

Cue to Idia's door being kicked open and Idia cowering in his chair almost crying in fear as Vil scolded him about not going to talk to him directly.

They became an odd pair after that. Vil makes sure Idia gets his needs taken, including touching some grass (much to his dismay).

And Idia teaches Vil about technology methods to make his career better. (He doesn't mention about the Vil x reader fanfic tab on his tablet though)

Vil found it obvious how Idia was head over heels for him, but he felt oddly calm about this. It didn't feel like other people crushing on him, where he needed to step on eggshells to maintain this pristine image.

Idia seemed to find him "having max charisma and appearance stats" even when he was a total mess, in his eyes.

It was a new thing for him, letting himself show his "uglier" side to someone, and not being the perfect Vil Schoenheit. And Idia seemed to not care in the slightest, although he did get flustered a lot whenever Vil shared a picture with his hair down. Vil learned from Idia's ling that that was "simp behaviour".

Idia... He never had so much attention from someone so different in his life. And for once, it didn't scare him. Actually, when Vil complimented him for showing up to class, he felt oddly proud and confident.

Ofc Vil was the one to confess first. I mean, Idia was going through the 19th mental breakdown over how to confess at that point, and Ortho was NOT a reliable source of advice on the matter.

Ortho is their biggest supporter, and says that Vil needs to take good care of his big brother, since he is very fragile and also very scared.

Rook was actually very supportive of Vil's choice. He is the biggest Vil fan, but he puts his dear Roi du poison's happiness over his. And to be fair... Their dynamic is enticing. It's unique. A beautiful form of art on itself!

Others were very much confused but grew used to it.

An odd pair, sure, but who said love couldn't be odd?

Their favorite pastime together is casual dates at Idia's room. Where Idia geeks about how this super rare character he summoned had such OP skills that his team two shot the boss, all awhile Vil paints his nails so they have matching colours.

Don't ask Idia why he is showing up to class so much, or he will run away and hide in his room. He is trying! He even wore his uniform 2 times this week!!

They are so silly, I think I got carried away lol. Hope you enjoy this!!

Have a great day/night!

[realjonahofficial]

Ruminations on boss monster SOUL power transfer and aging

So, uh. That one bit of Gerson dialogue. What did he mean by this???

Taken from Hushbugger's Undertale Dialogue Dump page on Github.

There are a few different headcanons/theories about how exactly this piece of lore should be interpreted – and, specifically, what its implications are regarding the children's growth rates in different scenarios. So, let's discuss it.

Personally, I'm REALLY not a big fan of the one that implies a boss monster whose parents die would be stuck as a child forever??? For instance, how would this theory of power transfer work with boss monster families that have 3+ children? Because like. Some couples having at least 3 children would be the only way for the population to to ever grow in size (unless we also headcanon that new boss monsters just spontaneously appear sometimes or something, which has absolutely no basis in canon lore). And by that logic, generations of this happening would eventually yield boss monsters who stop aging stupidly young. Not to mention, what about boss monster kids like Asriel, with no biological siblings? Would them getting both of their parents' SOUL power mean they go through super-puberty that turns them into double-mature adults??? So, yeah, not only would this all have pretty horrific implications regarding boss monster dating, but it'd also just be... really cursed worldbuilding that falls apart when you give it in any amount of serious thought. That's why I think it's a lot more likely that SOUL power transfer is simply that: a transfer of power.

I think Gerson's word choice is key here: "causing the child to grow" – rather than "mature", "age", or " develop" – "as the parents age" – as in, "into old age", becoming physically weaker due to giving up SOUL power.

I believe it's FAR more likely that, if a boss monster was orphaned, their growth would be stunted and their power would never reach its full potential – something more akin to malnutrition, rather than them literally being frozen in time; this would also happen, but to a lesser extent, to a boss monster who has to share their parents' SOUL power with more than one other sibling – and, inversely, a boss monster who's an only child would inherit both of their parents' power, growing far stronger than either of them separately by the time they become an adult.

This would also explain Asgore's absurdly high stats compared to Toriel's – like. ok. he has 8 times her total HP??? If we are to assume Asgore started out with similar stats to Toriel, plugging the numbers into the LV-based HP calculation formula the game uses for Frisk – 3/4 base HP + (1/4 base HP * LV) – gives us this equation: 330 + 110*LV = 3500. Solving for Asgore's hypothetical LV, then, gives us LV of roughly 29. Which might not sound that bad... until you realize the EXP required for getting to LV 19 is more than than all of the EXP it takes to get to LV 18 combined. Even assuming the EXP you get from killing just one human is equivalent to killing every monster in the Underground, while also assuming that the amount of EXP you need to level up no longer increases after you've reached LV 20 for some reason... it still wouldn't be enough to explain Asgore's dummy thicc HP bar after killing only 6 humans, if we are to assume his base HP is at all similar to that of Toriel. (Accounting for the possibility that monster history books lied, or at the very least didn't tell the full truth when stating that "not a single human SOUL was taken" during the war just leaves us with another problem: Toriel's also a veteran, and in fact seems a lot more comfortable with the idea of actively going to war as opposed to Asgore's approach of stalling for as long as possible, so if monsters actually were getting insane amounts of EXP by killing humans during the war, how come her stats are still so low? Killing even just a few humans would beef her up quite a bit; again, it's only once the numbers get higher that you see the sharp increase in EXP required to level up.)

I think Asgore was born into royalty, and Toriel married into it. Again: if a pair of boss monsters had only one child, that child would have the combined power of their 2 parents – now, let's suppose a family decided to do that for many generations.... with each new kid in such a family, the base power of the resulting offspring would grow more and more and more, wouldn't it? Perhaps one such family also has the means and prestige that allows them to easily find suitably strong partners for their kids, further increasing the rate at which the family's power would grow. (Also, the idea of Toriel originally being a commoner is further reinforced by the fact that the surname "Dreemurr" is confirmed to come from Asgore's side and, at least as far as we know, Toriel just... doesn't have her her own surname, as she switches to just going by "Toriel" after the two break up. Given that we only have about 3 examples of surnames within the Entirety Of The Underground, it appears that family names just aren't really a thing used within monster society, unless said family is really notable in some way).

...I may or may not be overthinking boss monster biology.

[prototypelq]

DMC Questions Anon here!

Capcom has called to tell you they've put you in charge of the next DMC game. They left no instructions but one: the game focuses on Dante and Vergil after the events of DMC 5. How will you do the game? What will the plot be? How will you have their relationship progress throughout the game?

Hi, Ember! Your timing is, as always, suspiciously accurate

Just the day you sent this ask I saw a post with this screenshot and saved it to answer later

Funny thing is, my answer to this post is disagreement with this point on a fundamental level.

I have an extremely hard time imagining anything for DMC6, and one of the reasons is story. Capcom did a great thing when they actually acknowledged their series-founding character aging. Dante is not getting younger, physically it's not really a problem for him, but emotionally? This man should have gotten a mental retire like, after dmc4. I mean it. He shouldn't get sucked into another Sparda legacy drama, please no. Same for Vergil, man needs a gramophone, his bro to retire with, a library card and some freakin knitting needles or smth.

DMC1 started with the second lowest low the twins relationship had ever been at, DMC3 showed the divide of their relationship, DMC4 was the ghost of it and DMC5 had been the fallout of 20+ years of not-cooing-with-trauma. 5 ends with a perfect ending the twins were gifted by Hideaki Itsuno (bless the man), there is nowhere meaningful to take them.

(This is where I would have ranted about Mundus and how HE should be the main boss of the series, but he was sealed off and manga says twins could have defeated him even in their twenties and capcom did not freakin retcon that)

Alas, this would have been my answer if you haven't added the mandatory twins rule xD (to be fair, it does sound like a rule executives force on a new game, cause how would they ever let go of idols like Dante&Vergil? the bois sell better than hot cookies)

This is where I go in reverse mode, because I think the post is actually onto something. A new game about twins conquering different regions/levels of Hell and fighting cool Hell Lords the entire time. It would also be a good opportunity for some worldbuilding overhaul I keep ranting about in every single ask!

The only gameplay feature I can imagine for the game, the one that was MUCH requested and so close to properly implemented in 5 should ABSOLUTELY return - proper coop. Not sure if splitscreen would work optimisation-wise, but they should freakin try. RE engine turned out to be surprisingly adaptable and works insanely well in 5.

Character abilities wise - DMC5 is a goddamn masterpiece of slasher, I have absolutely no idea how to make it better. Dante alone requires you to study in Combo University for four years, and Vergil would freakin make you meditate in a cave without food or water for another four.

If the narrative could take a double plotlines structure and Nero would have his own adventures in the human world, it would be nice to give him more attention as well. And an opportunity for some new devil hunter characters (Master Summoner Patty) !

If DMC6 ever happens then Mundus HAS to be the endgame come on, that is (1) plotline DMC has hanging and it would be EPIC to make.

Twins-relationship wise I expect a Lot of banter. It would be awesome to have the second twin be AI piloted around the level with you.

As for bonding? Mixed feelings. Twins will have lots of time to learn to work together again, but I am not sure they can actually heal while in Hell. Hell trip is a constant run from and into violence, demon horders, hunting and being pursued in a maddening never-ending circle untill the twins are able to escape. This is not the best situation for healing, honest conversations, or supportive moments. Plus, the twins entire lives revolve around violence, I can only wish one day they can settle in a calm environment to learn to live without it too.

btw the last two sentences are like, the premise of Raven's @stashoflostsouls newest Take a trip or two awesome fic, definitely check it and her other works out if you liked the previous paragraph

So yeah, I believe the twins will progress a lot during their escapades, but the reforging of their brotherhood can only fully happen outside the violence they are regularly thrown into, and a retirement plot doesn't really sound like a good idea for a slasher game, does it.

as always, the rambles got the best of me.

tldr: Personally, I think the twins' story is done and they should be allowed to happily retire, but if the story continuing to revolve around them is the mandatory rule then my best guess is a cool slasher in Hell. Still, it wouldn't fully mend the twins relationship, even if the game would probably be very satisfying to play

(have you seen the coop mod videos online? those clips are insane)

[ye-local-simp]

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Valentine's Special

How NRC students spend Valentines with you.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Heartslabyul:

Riddle

-He would spend Valentine's in tea party reserved for two.

-He didn't actually find this so had since he always had to host the unbirthday parties but the stress of making it perfect went to him.

-Throughout the whole thing, he was so flustered.

Trey

-You both would bake something together.

-Whatever you wanted since he always had the pleasure of baking literally everything.

-He wanted you to have this new experience for yourself.

Cater

-He would get permission to get you to a very trendy spot arcade and ice cream store in Isle of Sages.

-He literally magicams everything.

-but respects your wishes if you don't want him to post it.

Ace

-Movies at Ramshackle.

-An action one or horror or mystery is one he would want to watch.

-but if you want to watch a different genre, he will endure it for you.

-He also shows you card tricks he just came up with to impress you.

Deuce

-Bike ride around the Isle of Sages

-Dont worry, this time he got permission to keep his title as model student.

-And then a long walk at the beach where you both return with another bike ride home in the sunset.

Savanaclaw:

Leona

-You both would just cuddle at home.

-Of course this lazy lion wouldn't want to go outside so this was expected.

-But it went great anyways.

-You let him rest on your chest, but it made you tired too, so at least you got more refreshed out of this.

Ruggie

-A walk and cuddles too.

-These are the rare few times where Leona isn't there to keep bossing him around.

-So he would like to do something relaxing for free.

Jack

-The school gym.

-he won't force you to work out but if you do, he will support you.

-If you instead just tag along, you just have a conversation.

-He allows you to ait on his back while he does push-ups.

Octavinelle:

Azul

-Where else?

- The Monstro Lounge.

-But it took many favours from the Leech twins.

-Since they cooked everything.

-As long as you don't order octopus Takoyaki, you two are good.

Jade

-The school Pool.

-if you could swim, you both just have a great time hanging out in the water.

-If not, he will teach you to swim.

-Don't worry, no pranking if it would upset you.

Floyd

-Near the aquarium.

-He likes to see you being fascinated by fish even though all he thinks when he sees a fish is how delicious it would be.

-If he gets bored, he would ask if you would like to hand out in the dorm waters.

Scarabia:

Jamil

-cooking a meal together.

-This idea doesn't even slightly annoy him since he is cooking for the both of you and not for Kalim and the entire dorm.

-Plus,

Kalim

-He would throw a party for you.

-Allowing you to ride the elephant.

-Of course, all the different food that you will eat.

-And he will give you some great gifts.

Pomefiore:

Vil

-A romantic dinner at home.

-Normally, he would go for something elegant.

-But he does want you to stay safe though.

-If he is caught with you, your life may be in danger for fangirls and paparazzi.

-But the dinner was great too.

-Because you couldn't go to a fancy place, he tried to make the home dinner just as fancy at least.

Rook

-Walk around the forest of Ramshackle.

-As a hunter, the forest excites him.

-Mostly because there are more things to hunt, and he can show off his tricks to you.

Epel

-A picnic.

-Mostly because it reminds him of his home and it didn't seem hard.

-Plus, he could be himself so he doesn't have to lay low with the accent.

-And it was in the forest so he had space to be manly.

-So it was a no-brainer to do this idea.

Ignihyde:

Idia

-You both would have a game night in his room.

-He wants to try out many games with you and to see your take on them.

-He talks surprisingly a lot the whole time.

-But it's nice, to see him talking about something he's is passionate about it.

Ortho

-You both write a card for each other.

-Its actually a really cute card, and he gets help from Idia to understand what messages people would like.

Diasomnia:

Malleus

-You both walk around Ramshackle late at night.

-Obviously, this is something he does often but it is more fun when you are there too.

-He will carry you back afterwards if you want him to.

Afterwards, you both hang out inside Ramshackle afterwards for some tea or something.

Lilia

-Cooking together.

-But you could already tell his meals aren't surprising- but rather shocking.

-Just pray that you have enough excuse not to eat it.

-You both cook each other a surprise meal.

Sebek

-The Colloseum.

-You both just chat there whilst he talks about Malleus.

-If you get bored, he will just make it into a get to know each other thing.

- He will ask about your home, and he will talk about Briar Valley.

Silver

-In the forest near Ramshackle.

-For some reason, a bunch a cute animals run up to you both.

- He doesn't really understand the joy, but you did since animals like these would usually run away.

Ramshackle:

Grim

-You both hang out at Ramshackle.

-He gave him tuna and a card and did all the chores for the day such as get stuff from the school store.

-He didn't expect a gift since he actually didn't know what valentines was but you told him it was a holiday from your home.

[dextixer]

RWBY: Arrowfell review - An autopsy of an overpriced dissapointment.

RWBY as an IP has not had a good run with their video games since the show inception. While some games definitely gained popularity amongst the FNDM like Amity Arena. None of them have stayed for long, either being discontinued in the case of the online games or simply, not being played in the case of the single player ones. RWBY: Arrowfell is no exception, despite the game being produced by another studio. With this review i would like to talk about it more in-depth after playing it and talk about why it failed.

Did it fail?

First things first. I have to answer the simple question of "Did RWBY: Arrowfell actually fail?". Yeah. It did. While no EXACT data can be gathered due to it not being publically shared, one only needs to look at places like achievement tracking websites of Xbox, Playstation and Steam one can find that only around 500 people in each of these got an achievement for opening up a chest, something that you can do in the first 5 minutes of the game. Even if we agree to be generous and say that 5k people bought the game (Which is more than double the people that got the erliest achievement in game).

That ammounts to 5000 x 30 - 150 000 - Euro earnings.

The game was first teased in 2021-07-09. But considering that the footage of it was already presented it most likely was already being developed for around maybe half a year to 3 months. So let us be generous and say that it was started to get produced in 2021-04-09. It was released in 2022-11-15. Around 19 months of production.

Some of you might ask, why is that important? Well, because with estimating the time of production we can try to estimate how much money was spent making the game, at least at the lower end. By using employee wages. I live in Lithuania, mandated minimum here is 800 Euros per month.

For 1 employee to be paid wages for the entire production period costs around - 15k Euros.

WayForward has a studio of over 50 people. Even if all of them were not working on the game the entirety of the time. If even 10 people did. Which is a low estimate. That alone would suck up all of the earnings the game made.

All of this is guesswork of course. And NO company will share information on whether or not their game did badly (They will only share good news). But even with doubling the numbers that we can see, well. It aint looking good. Of course, its always possible that Way Forward locked a single person in a shed till they made the entire game.

So yeah. As far as i can see. It failed. And at best MAYBE made small profit if RT game them additional funding or money and ArcSystems did not pay for the entire thing themselves.

Price sets expectations

So, now that we are done examining the cadaver, let us speak on what killed it. And what killed it... Is first of all. The price. The quality of a game matters, but at the end of the day, expectations for that quality are set by the price.

Arrowfell costs 30 Euros. For a sidescroller that is an above average price. Most modern sidescrollers the type of Arrowfell cost between 20-25 Euros. Blasphemous - 25 Euros. Hollowknight 15 Euros. Shovel Knight - 15 Euros. Dead Cells - 25 Euros.

The reason i listed these games is for comparison. A 5-10 Euro increase in price might not seem like much, until one considers the differences between these games. The games i listed are considered to be the BEST of the best of modern sidescrollers. They were part of the sidescroller rennesaince that the video games industry experienced not a long time ago, and each of them boasted MANY welcome features. Be it amazing storytelling and boss battles or massive replayability.

Arrowfell cost more than them. And yet... It broke no new ground. In fact, it broke no ground at all. It released as quiet as a whisper with only really RWBY fans knowing and talking about it. As far as the sidescrolling genre goes, Arrowfell gave nothing to it.

It would be one thing if Arrowfell was comparable to the games i listed before. But it simply isnt. Which of course, leads me to the next point.

Simplistic Gameplay

Arrowfells gameplay is not worth 30 Euros. The games i listed before have very responsive combat systems, different weapons, characters, various upgrades that change the way that the game is played etc. The combat in them feels crisp, and the boss battles can even come close to those of Dark Souls in terms of both difficulty and spectacle.

Arrowfells combat is simply... Its Boring. There are basically no differences between the playable characters besides their special abilities. They all feel like the same character. That is bad enough, but there is also another problem. The game has no dodge/block button. Something that MOST combat games have figured out long ago. The only character that has a dodge is Ruby, and thus, for the most part, she is the only truly playable character in the game.

An enemy only has to TOUCH your hitbox. Not with an attack. Just with their HITBOX and you will take damage. You doing damage also does NOT stagger them, so you are forced to either hit and run or hope to god that you will kill the enemy before it attacks.

Some people have complained that playing this game is difficult. I thought it was simply them being bad at the game. But that is not the case. After playing the game myself, the reason why this game is so difficult is because its combat is simply shit. It has no mechanics that would be expected of a sidescrolling game. Enemies getting staggered on hit is something that was figured out in the EIGHTIES. Most of the game also has barely any verticality to speak of except in SOME cases like boss battles. So dont expect to easily jump over most enemies either.

You also have a ranged attack. A ranged attack that drains your health and does half the damage that your melle attacks do... Think about it, in a game about RWBY, the place of the "Its also a gun meme" you are disincentivized to use your GUN attack because it activelly drains your health.

But WAIT, THERE IS MORE! Dont worry trooper, you have 3 health bars to help you deal with the shitty combat system. EXCEPT that once you lose ONE bar it does not fully regenerate and instead leaves you on LESS than half HP.

But heeeey, RWBY has an upgrade system! You can upgrade your characters! That must be exciting! It must be new powers!? Maybe new weapons!? No. Its all percentage increases. You can increase damage/health/gun/health recovery. Thats it..... Yeah... Thats it... Cookie clicker has more exciting upgrades.

Simplicity in video games CAN be a benefit. Shovel knight is a relatively simple game for example. Yes, it has its own quirks, but it gives you TOOLS to deal with your opponents.

RWBY Arrowfell is simplistic to the point of making combat not only boring, but also frustratingly bad. I have unironically seen flash games with better combat systems.

Its boring, its unimaginative. It lacks the BASICS of proper combat systems (dodge/block), and the 4 characters you can choose from might as well be one, because their ONLY difference is their specials.

Flash Graphics

The gameplay is bad. Okay, so, is the game at least pretty? No. No it is not. While the backgrounds can look pretty nice, the design of the in-game characters and platforms feels like babys first game on mario maker. Its very cartoony but not in a stylized way. Its very... Functional. You can understand what the character is, what the background is. But none of it looks good because, once again, there is no stylization to the game. Its all simply functional. And quite frankly, when this kind of game has to compete with games like Blasphemous and Hollow Knight? That just wont cut it. But words in this case simply cannot cut it. So instead, i will let pictures speak for themselves.

Can you see the difference? Where Hollowknight and Blasphemous both are stylized and look AMAZING in their own ways. Arrowfell looks like a pre-fabricated 3d mess. Its looks like plastic. Can you see just how DIFFERENT the goliath looks textured in comparison to everything else?

The RT animated cutscenes, in my opinion, while good, do not save this mess of an artstyle considering this is what you will see most of the game.

Sound Design

I like RWBY music. I truly do, at least the Early RWBY until it all became practically the same. The sound design in the game is fine. It doesnt grate on the ears. Different situations have appropriate soundtracks. Its nothing special in my opinion, its more RWBY. But thats quite frankly fine with me.

Story

I have already written a few threads about the story of Arowfell. To summarize, the story is very simplistic. It follows team RWBY first mission after they got their huntsmen licenses in V7. They go around Atlas investigating Grimm attacks and weird Grimm attracting equipment which came from a defunct Atlas military base, Arrowfell. Most of the new characters presented in the game are inconsequential and barely appear in the game. Like team BRIR. The story is functional, but no more than that.

As far as my other threads on the topic.

A) This is a thread i made about weird characterizations of team RWBY - LINK

B) This is a thread i made about the writing of Hanlon Fifestone - LINK

Conclussion

RWBY Arowfell is an overpriced sidescroller game that offers nothing new to the genre at large and is of IMMENSELLY lower quality, artistically and gameplay wise than any of its cheaper contemporaries. Even for RWBY fans, i would never recommend this game. Watch the story on Youtube, and spend your money on any of the other titles i have listed in this thread, some of them are even on sale.

[ponett]

while you're rpg-posting, can I get a rundown on what you didn't like about octopath?

so i played about ten hours of octopath - everyone's first chapters and one character's second chapter - and it drives me crazy because it felt like a no brainer for them to work on the obvious flaws and make a great sequel. and then they apparently went and made almost the exact same game a second time

first and foremost was the writing, which is maybe the most boring writing i've ever experienced in a jrpg. there are other, older games with dry writing, sure, but octopath just has so much of it. despite all those words the characters have no soul, the world has no intrigue, and the conflicts feel stock. it's completely paint by numbers. it's almost impressive how completely and utterly dry and charmless it is. i'd say it feels like the contents of a stock tabletop game adventure book but that would be doing those a disservice

the thing that could have potentially helped, which EVERYONE (even the game's fans) pointed out as its main flaw, would have been to let the characters interact with each other outside of the rare and easily missable skits. characters in a game like dragon quest xi are mostly building off of familiar fantasy archetypes too, but the fun comes in how those archetypes play off of each other. how does the gruff knight get along with the dashing rogue? instead there's zero interplay between the stories, because the structure of the game means that they can't assume you have any party members other than the one whose story you're currently doing... even though, like, the level requirements for the second chapters implicitly force the average player to either do all eight chapter 1's first, or grind a ton? it's baffling

the stories not intersecting is just one aspect of the larger structural problems, though. live a live (which i need to play soon) embraces the variety its separate stories enable - not just aesthetically, but structurally as well. it'll throw in a stealth chapter, or a chapter with minimal combat. octopath, on the other hand, makes every chapter feel like every other chapter with a different coat of paint. reach a new town, get some cutscenes for a party member's story, get sent off to another area to fight a boss, rinse and repeat. at the time i even made a diagram to complain about how every single area i encountered in octopath was designed the same

RPGs NEED variety in their pacing and structure! it can't just be the same thing at the same rate over and over for 40-60 hours. i got through the mindnumbingly boring eight opening chapters hoping that it would improve after that - and no, it can't be understated how stupid it is that this is a game where you're basically forced to play through eight slow and boring JRPG opening towns in a row for the first ten hours - and when i finally got to the second chapters my heart sank upon realizing that no, this really is the whole game

even the combat, which i found really fresh and interesting at first, got stale and repetitive to me. at first the break system was really cool. wow, there's a reason for my healers to attack even though they do low damage! how smart! but in what i played it just kind of made every boss feel the same. figure out their weakness, hit them with that until their defenses break, and then spam your strongest attacks

but, again, like with bravely default, its soundtrack is its main saving grace. i adore the octopath OST. i have it my itunes library and everything. yasunori nishiki is one to keep an eye on at square, and i'm glad he's a part of the ff7 remake team. that, and the ensuing "HD-2D" remakes of better games like live a live and dragon quest iii, are the silver lining with octopath

[pizzaintheuk]

Hey again thank you for all the likes I'm shocked people love my headcannons and mini story so enjoy this one.

This is set when hashtag invited Starscream to another family event however it does not go to plan.

Once a week Starscream will get a message from Hashtag invited him to another one of them family events. Normally, Starscream will not respond to these silly events however, it's been a month and his mind was going to dark places so going to see Hashtag will help clear his mind for a bit.

Starscream will never land at the location but a few miles away so doesn't make much noise. Once he lands in a near by forest Starscream will slowly walk up to the Malto's household.

Getting near to the location he can hear laughing and something moving around. This make Starscream wondering what going on. Lowering his body and hiding near a big rock he can see the children and terrens playing a game with a ball of some sort.

It was heart warming from where Starscream can see. Everyone playing together and just enjoying eachother company. The adults were sitting at the side watching out drinking some weird liquid.

It made Starscream reflect when he was young born as a cold construction was never allowed to have "fun". His duty from the start was traveling to different areas of Cybertron to protect an area or someone. The only time he was free was when his boss let them recharge.

Starscream remember watching the "spark" Cybertronian walking freely, chatting away with their friends and allowing to express themselves. It made him wished he can be like them but also remember the cruel comments when doing his duty.

Some examples were...

"Go back to your factory where you was born"

"They are not normal"

"Can they be weird somewhere else"

"We don't have any space for these clones"

This make Starscream want to lash out at something. It was not his fault born as a low class, a clone someone who whole point in living is to work. Starscream wanted to be someone to be remember...like how Hashtag was willing to invite him to event or message to see if he alright. Hashtag was willing to listen to a second hand low class robot about his worries.

These little things Hashtag does for Starscream has really effected him. It tells that he not scarp, who can be wanted and there is someone who care for his spark.

Suddenly a loud "bang" sound stopping Starscream from thinking. It also stop the game because the sound came from Hashtag kicking the ball too hard which hit Twitch in the face.

A low booming voice saying "What going on here?" The voice came from the only robot Starscream does not want to go near.... Megatron.

Megatron slowly walk up to Twitch to see if she was alright. She was crying and pointed at Hashtag which got Megatron looking at her. Starscream panic Megatron wouldn't dare harm a child...would he?

Past memories came flooding into his brain of Megatron grabbing his neck when Starscream done something wrong. He remember not done anything to upset his "Master" other than being arm reach to be Megatron punching bag.

Starscream has to do something fast as Megatron was walking slowly to Hashtag. Using his thrusters Starscream dash away from his hidden spot to go between "master" and his only friend. Quickly transform one hand into a saw and the other arm aim the ray gun towards Megatron.

"Don't you dare go anywhere near her!" He shouted.

Ready to attack.

Ready to project the only person who care.

To be continue???

Thankyou again for the likes. If you want me to continue let me know if not I don't mind people message me of different event they want me to explore.

Thankyou again for the likes. If you want me to continue let me know if not I don't mind people message me of different event they want me to explore.