Caine expected the sex and to do what he's told and to like it. He didn't expect to be taken care of and cuddled and thanked afterwards too.

"Prompt: Caine expected the sex and to do what he's told and to like it. He didn't expect to be taken care of and cuddled and thanked afterwards too."

For the prompt, "Alistair being consensually wrecked by men as a submissive/bottom." This prompt just will not leave me alone. I feel like this fic should be rated T, and yet, every time I try to pick that, it feels wrong, too. So...despite the prompt, not actually all that smutty.

Upending a base full of slavers was supposed to be a straightforward mission. Agen was unprepared for abduction, cloned armies, and the dark edges of the mystery that surrounds them, stretching back a thousand years. Though, in fairness, Alpha wasn't at all prepared for Agen, either.

Of course Tyler knows that intense hockey makes a sub more susceptible to going under, but he hadn't really experienced it much before. Now, when he’s on his knees on the ice drinking beer out of the Worlds trophy that Sidney Fucking Crosby is holding to his mouth, he can recognize the signs. He can feel a haze settling around the edges of his mind, and he’s spent enough time subbing, and drunk, and subbing while drunk, to know which one of those this is.