Honestly, Pat isn't sure how they got here. He's had a lot to drink, and they've been engaged in about four hours of what was Mario Kart war but turned into an epic Smash Bros. tournament, and somewhere along the way bets that required badges of honour were made, except instead of badges of honour somebody—okay, probably Pat—decided they were to be badges of shame, and somebody—again, probably Pat—decided the winner got to mark the loser so everybody could heckle him until it faded.

Honestly, Pat isn't sure how they got here. He's had a lot to drink, and they've been engaged in about four hours of what was Mario Kart war but turned into an epic Smash Bros. tournament, and somewhere along the way bets that required badges of honour were made, except instead of badges of honour somebody—okay, probably Pat—decided they were to be badges of shame, and somebody—again, probably Pat—decided the winner got to mark the loser so everybody could heckle him until it faded.

Tyler thought things would be different in Dallas. He just had no idea how different it could be.

“I’m not doing you in the seats,” Pat says, tilting his head back to grin up at Jonny’s red face. “Turn around.” [Timestamp for put your money where your mouth is]

Sid growls. He can’t help it. It’s wrong. Malkin is whimpering and crying and struggling against his restraints. His scent is all fear and chemicals and something deeper, something dark and oppressing. Sid thinks it’s anger but it’s too bitter to try and get a proper read on.

It was Sid’s dirty little sneaky plug, buzzing merrily away inside his asshole, and they could hear it.

He knew this would happen, one day. He didn’t think Dylan would touch his dick for the first time on the bus, but.

Taylor loves it, everyone watching while he fucks himself on Adam’s dick and Adam’s hands are tight on his hips while he tells Taylor how good he looks, how everyone wants to be where Adam is. He loved it back in juniors and it’s even better now.

It’s a game. It’s a game to see how loud he can be and not have anyone but Nicky hear him, a game to see what he can do without anyone but Nicky noticing.

Sometimes he wakes up sucking on his fingers, rutting his hips into the bed. He’ll be right on the edge of coming, the wet head of his dick trapped between his hips and the sheets, but he can’t, he can’t, not without – not without something pushed up inside, something stretching him open.

The Flyers always have a way of making Kris lose control. Kris has been Sid's sub for years now, and he's seen it happen time and again. A night like tonight calls for some creativity in punishment.

since @doesntmaatta mentioned this to me: ‘Honestly I’m thinking about PK grinning at him at some team gathering and telling him, “I’ll give you a $100 if I can fuck your mouth,” and Gally grins, shrugging, “You’re on.” That’s when PK adds, “Right now, here.”’ and i am so easy for anything that shows gally b as a money-grubbing git who’ll do anything for more money– tagging for exhibitionism, ridiculous sex for money

After scoring his first game winner, Tyler takes care of all the Bruins, and by take care we mean blow jobs. Afterwards, Marchy takes care of him and his poor come-swollen belly.

When they drain the rink at the end of the season, he tells someone he's folding to superstition and he pays them for several buckets of the water and buys a few of those ice filled pucks they sell at the store. He purchases some Kraken shaped water bottles and fills them with his water. He's not sure why he's going this far, this fucked up, but he also doesn’t really care. He played well and the team actually did okay for their first season while trying to get their legs under them as a unit.