"Yes, Kaner," Sharpy's saying as Jonny sits down next to them with a beer. "It would indeed be gay to measure your teammates' dicks to find out whose is biggest."

"Um. I don't know if you noticed, but sometimes I make bad choices about who to trust." Crow tipped his head neutrally. "So that's not my job anymore," Patrick said. "The making choices part. I still do the trusting part. I'm good at that." Or, as described by Petra, the story where Kaner is "like a therapy puppy on a leash, humping people's legs an making them smile."

Or, Jonathan Toews' neck is a slut.

In 2010, the best athletes in the world gathered in Vancouver for the Games of the thirty-first Olympiad. Of all the medals to be awarded at the Games, the host nation of Canada wanted one above all: the last medal to be awarded, gold in Men's Hockey. To this end, Canada assembled a team of superstars, the best and brightest in the NHL, led by Sidney Crosby. On the shoulders of that team they placed the hopes of the nation.

It's Sid's job as captain to match up the subs on his team with suitable Doms. It doesn't take long to figure out that the only Dom he would trust Jamie Benn's particular needs to is himself.

Some people get mean when they drink. Some people get quiet, or loud, or weepy. Sid gets… well.

The package arrives the day after Sid gets back to Pittsburgh. Sid recognizes the discreet wrapping, and the lack of a return address is so obvious they might as well have printed Sex Toys R Us all over the damn box.

That's the end of the talking for a while, but it's only the beginning of Patrick thinking about it. He does some research, but it turns out that googling "what does it mean that I like getting held down during sex" doesn't provide much helpful information, and he can't bring it up with anyone, so he just – thinks about it, instead. It's probably more thought than he's put into anything before in his life other than hockey, but it leads him to some pretty interesting conclusions.

This is an AU about a dick piercing.

The naiad moved in shortly after Sid finished his house, that first summer, a week after he filled the pool. He noticed some splashing one morning while he was eating breakfast, and when he went outside to investigate, she popped her head up out of the water, clung to the side of the pool, and hissed at him. “Uh,” Sid said, still holding a slice of toast in one hand. Dew from the grass chilled his bare feet. “Are you—hi?”

It was embarrassing, but Tom only realized he was in rut well into the last week of January. It was Thursday, and he was in Starbucks because Mike had mentioned, off-hand, that he was a little bit tired and needed some caffeine. Tom got to the front of the line, made eye contact with the pretty omega boy behind the register, and barely caught his drool with his own hand.

Miro hasn't even gotten a chance to meet Roman properly yet, since he only got to the team the day before, and now management is essentially assigning them to... fuck. Management is assigning them to fuck. The thought rings loud and clear in his head as he finally shakes Jim's hand and leaves the office. He can't remember the rest of the conversation, no matter how hard he tries. His brain is still stuck on management assigning him a fuckbuddy.

"Hey, so," Tyler says when the marks on his ass have faded to a gross yellow-green. "Next time, you wanna make out first?"

It’s not - it’s not a thing. Really. Not a thing-thing, at the very least. He doesn't think it can be a thing if you only think about it and don't act on it, excepting that one time when Connor was straight up nailing him to the bed. He reasons that it certainly can't be a thing-thing if you've never even talked about it with your not-boyfriend. Dylan resolves to figure his shit out and have less hyphens involved in his life. (or: Connor McDaddy)

ack says, "We've talked about this so much I'm not even sure it turns me on any more." Connor pulls up at a red light. "Liar," he says.

There's more than one reason that Jack wanted to go first.

There’s an honor system to it: don’t pick too far below your weight class unless you’ve got an excuse, or too far above unless you’re trying to make a statement; if you’re going to pass or whine about it too much, be prepared to pay for it next time; if you’re going to be a dick, the guy you’re picking better deserve it.

“I didn’t fuck Mitch,” Dylan hisses into Connor’s ear, squeezing Connor’s hips tightly. Connor’s right on the edge when Dylan presses his lips to Connor’s ear and whispers, viciously, “But I wanted to.”

Jamie’s always known his girlfriend has a dirty mind.

The Washington Capitals part of the D/s AU.

"We've got a special request tonight," the PR rep says, clipboard in hand. The way she says it, you can hear the implied capital letters: Special Request, the publicly friendly way to say some fans shelled out a lot of cash to watch you fuck.

Nate looks away, shifting his weight between his feet. “Uh, it’s a contract,” he says. EJ stares at him for a moment. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” he blurts out once he’s done staring because that’s the only reasonable explanation for this. Nate looks up at him, confused and weirded out at the same time. “I’m not,” he says. “It’s for you,” he adds. In which the NHL requires subs over the age of 31 to be collared, and EJ finds himself in a tough spot.

Everyone’s always known Jonny’s a dom.

In any case that's old news now. Roman is in Europe and Miro isn't assigned to anyone anymore. He chose to be with Roope, and Roope is a possessive kind of dom. He hasn't brought anyone else into their bed in the year they've been together, and Miro is okay with that. He likes belonging to Roope. But it's not like he never thinks about it. And today, he's thinking about it.

“Shower again.” Alex says, popping the top off his bottle and taking a long pull. He stares Dylan down while he does it, and fuck. That's not playing fair. “Why?” Dylan asks, because fuck, they need to talk about whatever is happening here. “Because I told you to.”

But then Jordie puts his weight more heavily on top of him and something switches, and it’s like all the fear is draining out of Jamie’s body. His arms and legs and stomach go calm and floaty. Jordie’s heavy, but Jamie doesn’t feel the weight anymore. It just feels so good.

Charlie is a sub who's always gone unwanted, so he's not sure what to expect when he's assigned to his Dom captain for the duration of his rookie year. But who he gets is Zdeno Chara, the most gentle Dom he's ever encountered. It has the potential to be a perfect relationship--except that Charlie can't let himself forget that the two of them are only together on a temporary basis. At least, that's what he's expecting. Zee has other ideas.

Arriving in Vancouver, JT Miller expected a lot of things. He did not, however, expect to meet the sub of his dreams. Nor that the courting would be so intricate. No, JT did not expect Jake Virtanen. But it’s worth it, for in every way Jake is what he’s been searching for. (or the Austen-esque BDSM romance novel)

Dave leans over as he walks towards the showers. “Careful Chucky, you are flashing your tits to whole room.” He expects Matthew to laugh or bite back with some retort, but he doesn’t respond at all. He looks up at Dave, his eyes wide and mouth open in surprise. Dave freezes. He’s never seen Matthew at a loss for a chirp before and he’s mesmerized by the way his pupils dilate and cheeks flush. “So, like, yeah,” Dave takes a nervous step back. “Put them away.” Matthew swallows and Dave follows the movement. Finally he responds, but instead of chirping back he just says, “Ok.”

They get to the tables with the guys, who’re watching with varying levels of amusement, and finally Ritter drops him on the padded bench. Matt bounces and nearly slides right off. Ritter manages to catch him, one firm hand planted on his chest, pressing him down. “Stay,” he orders and Matt sucks in a sharp breath as something in him goes molten hot. OR Matt's got a bit of a Ritter sized problem.

PK says a lot of things, so Gally really shouldn't be surprised when PK brushes up against him, wearing a suit that almost puts Gally's eyes out and a smirk on his face. Gally knows what that smirk means, and he scrubs his palms against his pants. "Wanna make 300 dollars, Gally?" PK asks, just low enough for Gally to hear and freeze in place. He glances at PK's face, licks at his lips.

c: i agree, the natural progression of auston getting injured is for him to start lactating and get milked by matt martin in a car park (“Oh, kid. You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”)

Productive working relationships are essential for effective teamwork. Some working relationships are more fun than others.

It starts with Sasha's neighbour worrying about the stupid fish. When Sasha finds out what's behind that, it ends so, so much worse for him... Or: Putting "ovi" into "oviposition" ;) (~8k of Ovi getting tentacle dicked down + oviposition, the fic's basically in the tags, and what is advertised there is exactly the fic, you do the math)

A series to follow Apollo, Midnighter, Slade and Jason pucking and fucking. Follow Apollo, Midnighter, Jason Todd, Slade Wilson, Mark Grayson, and Dick Grayson through the world of this lovely hockey AU. A world where all the hockey fandom tropes meet DC! Goalie nesting, winner's room, kneeling, poaching... if we can dream it up, it'll be here!