I Love The Moment Before The Face Off When The Players Are Just Standing There With Their Legs Spread

WAKE UP KRAKENBLR WE'VE GOT MATTY BORGEN AND GOURDO BAKING HOLIDAY COOKIES

no right on red, a gift for my beloved @puckszone, beta read by the wonderful @coronaofastar

Pairing: gen

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Attempted Sexual Assault, Date Rape Drug/ Roofies, Vomiting, Blood, Hospitals, Protectiveness, Team as Family, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: The guy’s all up in Shane’s space, crowding him into the corner by the bathroom, the hand not on his beer bracketing Shane’s head on the wall. And then…Monty realizes that Shane doesn’t look so hot, now that he’s looking a little closer. Something just doesn’t look right—something on Shane’s face, Monty doesn’t know what, but it looks wrong. Pained. Sick, maybe? And then the guy leans in a little closer to Shane, and Shane visibly stiffens up, and that’s enough to have Monty launching himself out of his seat.

read it here!

2024 Stanley Cup Playoffs: Round 1, Game 4 Canucks @ Predators | April 28, 2024

here is yet another short bit from the fic im working on…. not beta read or anything so don’t judge too hard

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Mack is standing in the VIP lounge talking to his dad after the game—only half listening to him bitch about everything he didn’t do well in the game—when Will comes up from behind tapping his shoulder.

“Hey, Celly, my dad wants to meet you.” He starts the second Mack turns around, gesturing over to where his dad was talking to a couple of the other Dads.

“Smith. No hello?”, it’s Rick Celebrini. The one and only, Will thinks.

“Sorry, um, Mr. Celebrini.” Will shakes his hand firmly, just as he’d been taught by his own father. Him and Rick had already met once before when Mack brought Will to the Warriors game, he wasn’t any more polite this time to last. “Mind if I borrow Mack for a sec? My Dad-“

“Go ahead,” He starts before turning to Macklin, “We’ll continue this later, I’ll see you at the restaurant, son.” He quickly claps Mack on the shoulder and disappears into the crowd.

———

“Dad, um, this is Mack.” Will starts as Bill, finished up talking to a couple of the other dads.

“Oh, Mack! So nice to finally meet you, Willy here wouldn’t shut up about you.” He joked, squeezing Will’s shoulder as he blushes in embarrassment.

“Dad.” Will warned playfully.

“Oh did he now?” Mack looked to Will, a teasing smile plastered on his face.

“Oh, what’s that? I think I hear Toff calling me, gotta go.” he starts turning away to leave Mack and his Dad to talk alone.

Mack watches as his teammate falls into the sea of Sharks jerseys, unable to tell him apart from all the different shades of teal and white.

“So,” Bill starts, Macks attention snapping back to him, “BC jersey, huh?”

“Oh- Yeah, um, I lost a bet.” He says quickly, it’s the truth yet he still feels like he’s lying.

“Right. I’m shocked he let you wear it.”

“I’m sorry?” Mack said, a little shocked.

What is that supposed to mean? He didn’t just let me, he made me. he thought.

“Yeah, doesn’t let anyone touch it. Not his mother, not me, don’t even think he let Gabe or Ryan touch it after he took it off that night.”

Mack just stared at him in shock, he knew it wasn’t polite but what else was he supposed to do? This is quite literally life changing information. So what he may be a little dramatic, this has to mean something. He needs it to mean something.

Will’s Dad continued with a small chuckle, “He told me he needed me to bring it with me on the trip, I had to ask if he has joking that’s how serious he is about it. Now I see why.”

“Oh my- I, fuck, sorry, he never told me that.” Mack stuttered awkwardly, still in complete shock.

“Looks like he’s waiting for you,” he points behinds Mack to see the previous crowd of staff and other guests completely cleared out, leaving nobody but Will, leaning against the wall on his phone.”

“Oh. Yeah, do you mind?”

“Go ahead, I’ll see you two at dinner.“ He smiles fondly down at the eighteen year old, “and Mack?”

He turned back around, a quizzical look on his face.”

“You’re a good kid, it was nice to meet you. and he really likes you, I can tell.”

“Thanks, uh, Mr. Smith.” Mack feels like his heart is going to burst with all this information at once. He’s sure Will’s dad didn’t mean he likes him like that but still.

“Bill is fine, kiddo.”

They share a short smile before Mack runs off to meet up with Will so they can drive to the restaurant together.

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hope this is half decent!! i didn’t read it myself after writing so if theres any mistakes ill fix them late

(heres the song i was listening to on repeat while writing this)

└your 23-24 colorado avalanche

okay FIRST of all you cannot just TEASE that bobby was speaking from experience u menace!! luosty being a nightmare is so endearing but then i had to do a full brain reset at maffhew using lundy as a knot toy, that’s diabolical and true god bless! now i’m here begging sasha to reach the end of his metaphorical rope (pour one out for benny, maffhew is gonna be more insufferable not less when it happens) okay cool luv how we’re throwing the Yap back and forth

i can and i will we like to have twists and turns around here it adds a certain pizzazz if you will

i like to think when bobby doesnt want to spend his heats alone (which he usually does not for any lack of partners but sometimes he just does want to spend it alone as a goalie who missed scf practise to haunt the local beach for a bit is wont to do) he treats it like a lottery because its bobby ofc he does he doesnt have any particular preferences and anyone is honoured to be a part of it that theyre clamouring over each other to be first in line for heat privileges and like ofc sasha has been involved he knows how to treat his goalies well

and bobby would have more of his heats with sasha but sashas pretty adamant about not taking up his time

"No, you should spend more time with others," Sasha urges, already shaking his head to dissuade further dialogue. It's been how many times he's said that ever since Sergei brought it up. The tea has gotten cold by now, both of their mugs forgotten in front of them.

"Who will take care of Captain?" is all Sergei says back. The resounding silence is answer enough, the way Sasha diverts his gaze in shame is a treat though. "As I thought. Then I spend heats with others if you spend rut with me."

"Seryozha..."

"Sasha," Sergei answers back evenly.

"You make this difficult," Sasha sighs out.

"Not supposed to be easy." And concerning their Captain nothing ever is. "You spend ruts with me if and when you can. I'm not going to force you."

Because Sasha doesn't spend his ruts with anyone—at least not regularly. He doesn't mind helping out with heats, quite honestly if his Omegas don't have anyone else he's happy to step in. But his own ruts are spent mostly in solitude sans a stray packmate here and there but even that's rare. Sasha is private and that privacy extends to his own biology. If he barely invites the team over to his house, who's to say he invites someone over for his ruts? Sergei can relate though, to that isolation, it's why he offers.

Being alone together is better than being alone apart.

"I—..." Sasha's starting to run his fingers through his hair, obviously frustrated with how this conversation is going but his face doesn't give much away. It's only his fingers tightening as he combs his hair back that really signals anythings amiss—his scent is as even as ever at least to an untrained nose. Sergei can start to smell the hints of bitterness permeating the air—like the tea that's boiled over in front of them because they forgot their tea in the midst of this, leaving the strainer in for far longer than they should've. It's over-steeped, but Sergei has always left his tea in for far longer that he should've. Jam usually sweetens it enough, he finds.

"Just know I'm option like Aaron and Luosty. Sasha, you treat us so well. Let us treat you."

It could be hours that crawl by or it could be mere minutes, the only accompanying sound to the silence is Sergei's stirring, his spoon hitting the side of his mug in a rhythmic lull until eventually, eventually Sasha looks up again.

Defeated, he slumps his shoulders and nods. "Okay."

Sergei blinks, not quite expecting how easily Sasha gave in, he was expecting more convincing, more back and forth, more... well, just more. "Okay to spend rut?"

"...okay to spend rut..."

And if anything there's a particular reason why Sasha's last resort is a warm body during his rut. For someone who's so controlled, who's emotional highs at most reach mild in front of the cameras when he can help it—he's quietly intense.

Emphasis on quiet. Stress on intense. Which is the per usual for him, he's always quietly intense. But the focus is on something completely different, not hockey, not being a good captain or a good pack leader—it's on finding the nearest wet hole he can sink into.

Sergei can't say he's too shocked when Sasha pushes him onto his back, catching his ankles with a heavy hand to bully his legs up by his ear—he's a goalie, he's flexible after all, it doesn't faze him—he even lets out a hushed trill that his Alpha is using him as he likes, as he told him to. Not that Sasha needed any encouraging in the first place, he practically herded Sergei onto his bed, pushing him along, the second his rut started to first hit him.

In place of laying bites at his neck—a neck covered with a neck guard that Sasha urged him to put on—he litters marks elsewhere, and he's liberal in them. His canines dropping down means he's itching to place them somewhere, anywhere; Sergei's soft skin is a good a place as any.

The first knot is not so bad, Sasha for the most part is pushy but not overbearing. By the third, Sergei can't even shift to get more comfortable because he's met with a low growl rumbling from behind. A stern warning, despite the fact Sasha's knot has gone down considerably enough for Sergei move without tugging on it. So Sergei waits, waits until his member softens enough it can slip out before he attempts to shift again—he's met with the same growl, this time a lot more pointed, a nip leveled at his shoulder to stay still. Really the first thing Sasha has said the whole time.

Sometimes he wakes up with Sasha licking at the back of his neck, tongue wetting the polyester cover of his neck guard, making it stick even more to Sergei's already sweating skin, breath coming out in puffs that further dampen it. His hips nudging against the back of his thighs insistently as he waits for Sergei to come to enough. Sometimes he doesn't wait at all, arms encircling his hips as he pants into his ear, setting a punishing pace from the start and there's not much more he can do but take it. Despite the whines that get forced out of him from how tender he feels—Sasha merely shushes him, hips quickening their pace.

There's not much rest to be had when Sasha is adamant that he warms his cock even if Sergei is limp from exhaustion, crying out as he pulls him back.

In the moments of reprieve even that doesn't last long when Sasha finds that his seed is leaking out and the only solution is to stuff a few fingers inside when Sergei is already sensitive enough.

It's a lot, Sasha is big, his knot is big, everything about him is big and unapologetic and and

"...sorry..." Sasha breathes into his shoulder blade when he's finally conscious enough to not rut in between Sergei's thigh for the fifth time that night. In fact his hips are unmoving, his grip has gone terribly lax they feel soft instead of punishing.

Sergei reaches back to pat at his head, a soothing gesture, "Welcome back, Captain."

-

"Be prepared. Captain will work you hard."

Matthew laughs, "Yeah? I hope so."

Sergei just smiles serenely, pats him on the shoulder and doesn't elaborate whatsoever. Matthew will know soon enough—like they all have.

who’s god damn dildo is that

hate that, man

bonus:

Lol, such a smool person