Prompt Post #1

[omgkinkplease_mod]

This is the main prompt post. Rules loosely inspired by previous Check Please kinkmeme, omgsexplease.

- Post prompts as replies to this post. Prompts about underage characters should be made to the underage prompt post.
- Subject line should be: "Pairing, brief prompt." You can expand on the prompt in the comment box. The pairing should be listed as Character/character, not by smushname. Character/any is allowed, as are moresomes.
- Do not hijack a prompt. If you are inspired, make a separate prompt.
- Do not repeat prompts within the same post.
- Post prompt fills as replies to that comment.
- Multiple people can fill a prompt, including yourself.
- Post anonymously. You can claim your fill on AO3, Tumblr, or anywhere else you want to post it.
- This is a CNTW kinkmeme. You can add warnings to the subject line, but it is not required.

Comments

Bitty/Jack, oviposition during season

[(Anonymous)]

Jack fills Bitty full of eggs during the season, but Bitty can still play for a few months before it is dangerous for the pregnancy.

When word gets out, every player on the ice acts like Bitty is ridiculously delicate. Bitty loves it.

Re: Bitty/Jack, oviposition during season

[(Anonymous)]

So, I'm working on a fill for this, but its getting long so hang tight! ^.^

Ransom/Holster/Chowder, Flexibility

[(Anonymous)]

Ransom and Holster make Chowder do full splits on the ice because they have an ulterior motive - they are very impressed with his flexibility. Cue the most friendly, cheerful double-team of Chowder where they find out he can put his knees behind his head or something and are suitably impressed.

Jack/Parse, rubbing their infidelity in Bitty's face

[(Anonymous)]

Jack and Parse are having an affair. Every time Bitty, Jack, and Parse are in the same place, Parse says and does things to (not so) subtly rub it in Bitty's face. Jack is super into it. Bitty has no idea what's going on.

Bonus points if Jack and Parse excuse themselves to go fuck in the bathroom or something.

Re: Jack/Parse, rubbing their infidelity in Bitty's face - Fill

[(Anonymous)]

“Good game, Zimms.” Parse is smiling when he meets Jack and Bitty in the hall by the visitor locker room. Jack hadn't expected him to be so chipper after a loss, but the Aces do still have the best record in the west. And Jack had gotten him off six times in the past two days.

He looks just like he did back in his hotel room, cheeks flushed, hair damp, a little breathless while he eased his cock out of Jack's mouth. Maybe it's his imagination, but Jack can almost taste him at the back of his throat. He's suddenly parched.

“Thanks, Parse,” he croaks, and shivers when Parse runs a knuckle across his forearm.

“That powerplay goal was fucking gorgeous.” Parse closes his eyes like he's picturing it in his head. Jack tamps down the urge to trace the curve of his cheekbone. “I bet half the bench was lining up to suck you off. I know I would have been.”

“Kenny,” Jack says under his breath. He cuts his eyes toward Bitty.

Parse crinkles his brow in exaggerated confusion. He's not even trying to be convincing. “What, you never told him? Jack, you've been together for years, I figured – ”

“Oh, he told me,” Bitty says. “I know all about the Q and your...dalliance,” he sniffs. “Jack and I don't have secrets from each other. Although we try not to discuss them in public.” He looks down the empty hallway pointedly.

“That's great,” Parse smiles hugely at Bitty, then at Jack. “Good for you, Zimms.” He claps his hand over Jack's collarbone with targeted precision, then raises his eyebrows when Jack winces.

“Wow, that's a wicked bruise you've got there.” Parse hooks a finger into Jack's shirt collar and tugs it back a little. Every muscle in his body goes tight, but Jack tries not to show his reaction. Bittle's standing two feet away.

“Yeah, uh, Marty almost took my head off at practice yesterday.”

“By accident, honey,” Bitty interjects. “You said he didn't see you.”

Parse makes a surprised sound. “That's from a stick? I would have sworn it was a hickey.” He meets Jack's eyes and Jack's breath catches in his throat. “But you were always so private about things like that.” Parse turns to look at Bitty. Jack can tell from the tilt of his head that he's smirking. “And we all know Bitty would never dream of being indiscreet.”

Bitty smiles with every single one of his teeth. It makes Jack pretty uncomfortable.

Parse ignores it. “Winner buys dinner,” he croons at Jack. “Lezzgo!”


Jack doesn't talk in the car. His head is buzzing too hard for him to think clearly. Parse is content to play with the radio, flipping channels every five seconds until he finds something he likes. They beat Bitty to the restaurant. Jack knew they would; Bitty's a nervous driver, he avoids thruways at all costs.

“I'm gonna hit the head,” Parse says, after the two of them are seated. Jack hesitates one second, then follows him in. He locks the door behind them.

“What the hell was that about, Parse?”

Parse rolls his eyes. “Please, you fucking loved it,” he says, and crowds Jack up against the sink. Jack doesn't deny it. Parse would know he's lying anyway, he's been hard since they left the arena.

Parse goes right for the hickey he'd left on Jack the day before, mouth hot against his skin. Jack's nerves light up instantly when Parse uses his teeth, the mixed pain and pleasure making him dizzy. He fists his hand in the back of Parse's shirt and pulls him closer.

A dribble of pre-come slips out of him, slides down the length of his throbbing cock. Fuck, he's going to come in his fucking pants. Parse has barely touched him and he's most of the way there already.

“High sticking, that's pretty good, Zimms,” Parse says as he unbuckles Jack's belt and shoves down his pants. He grabs at Jack's ass, grip tight enough for Jack to feel each individual fingertip pressing into the muscle. “What's this going to be from?” he asks, as he fingers the wet patch on Jack's boxer briefs. “A plumbing accident?”

Jack catches Parse's lip between his teeth in lieu of an answer.

“Careful,” Parse chides him while he tucks the elastic of Jack's boxer briefs down under his balls. “What would Bitty say?”

Jack surges forward, his mouth connecting solidly with Parse's, tongue sliding in. He moans when Parse closes his hand around his cock. He's so close it hurts, and Parse knows it just as well as Jack does. Parse twists his wrist, squeezes, and Jack shudders as he coats Parse's hand with spunk.

Jack's just unzipping Parse's fly when his phone chirps in his pocket. He grunts in frustration. “That's Bittle,” he explains to Parse. “He always texts when he's arrived safely.”

“Go,” Parse bites out. “You fucking owe me.”

Jack hurriedly puts his dick away and goes. He slides into his seat about three seconds before Bitty appears around the corner.

“Traffic was terrible,” Bitty exclaims. “Have y'all been here long?”

“Just sat down,” Jack says.

Parse appears a few moments later, looking cool as a cucumber. “Just needed to wash my hands.” Parse smiles and wiggles his hand at Bitty. “You know how filthy locker rooms are.”

“Do I ever,” Bittle replies.

Dinner is less awkward than he expects it to be, probably because Jack says as little as possible. Parse always could charm the pants off of anyone, and for whatever reason he's playing nice with Bitty.

They're halfway through the entrée when Parse creeps his hand inside Jack's pants pocket and gets his pulse racing. He's almost disappointed when Parse slides his hand back out. And then he realizes Parse has his phone. Parse gives him a look like he's daring Jack to protest. Jack doesn't. He owes Parse one.

Parse fiddles with the phone for a few minutes, trying to break in. Jack concentrates on his steak, but he can feel Parse's eyes on him when the next password he tries works. What would be the point in changing it? Parse's birthday is easy to remember.

Parse starts texting one-handed. He rests the other one on Jack's knee.

Bitty gets pinker and pinker throughout the meal, his eyes darting between his phone and Jack's face. Jack keeps looking down at Parse's hand, but it's fine. He's supposed to be texting anyway.

Bitty gives him a shy, private smile after he's paid the bill. “I'll see you at home, sweetheart.”

Jack should probably try to find out how much trouble Parse has gotten him into. Or at least what kind.

Parse grabs his sleeve before Jack can open his mouth. “You're dropping me off at my hotel, remember? Swoops and the guys wanted to say hi. Don't worry,” he says to Bitty, “I won't keep him.”


An hour later, Jack's on his hands and knees on Parse's bed, sweat dripping into his eyes while Parse works two fingers up his ass.

“Another,” Jack begs. Parse gives him a third finger. Jack's starting to feel the burn now. He still wants more. He wants anything Parse will give him.

“So greedy.” Parse trails his other hand over Jack's ribs, sends goosebumps up the line of Jack's spine. “What's your boyfriend going to think when you come home stretched out like a whore, Jack?”

Jack turns his burning face into his arm. “He wouldn't know the difference. I've never let him fuck me.”

Parse goes still behind him. Jack whines, and Parse starts up again, pushing into him with an agonizingly slow rhythm. Jack can't scream, they're in a hotel room. But he'd really like to.

“You should let him tonight,” Parse says, sounding far away. “He wouldn't even have to prep you. You'll be so loose, my come will just slide right out.”

Jack groans and pushes back harder onto Parse's fingers. He wants them as deep as they can go.

“You're such a slut for me.” Parse drops a kiss on Jack's tailbone, then licks down to his fingers. “God, I love you like this.”

“You have to fuck me right now,” Jack orders. “Right fucking now, Kenny.”

“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” Parse teases, but he slides his fingers out of Jack's ass and knocks his legs a little wider. Parse leans in, his chest pressing down into Jack's back. “You're lucky I'm a soft touch.” His cock nudges at Jack's balls and slides up his crack. Jack digs his fingers into the fancy hotel sheets.

“You're going to be lucky I don't kill you in another minute,” Jack mutters.

“Shut the fuck up, Zimms.” Parse scrapes his teeth along Jack's shoulder blade and snaps his hips, his cock spearing into him, and Jack couldn't say anything now, even if he wanted to. It's so good he can barely breathe.

“You're so fucking perfect,” Parse says into his skin. “He doesn't even know what to do with you, does he?”

Jack hangs his head and moans.

“Are you going to show him, baby? Are you going to go home and sit on his cock and let him have my sloppy seconds?” Parse grabs his hips and thrusts in so deep Jack has to bite his lip bloody to keep from wailing. “Cause you were mine first, weren't you?”

“Kenny,” Jack pleads. Parse won't touch him, and he fucking needs it. He's so close.

Parse fists his hand in Jack's hair and tugs his head up. Jack's spine arches painfully. “Here's another secret to tell your boyfriend,” Parse hisses in Jack's ear. “You're still mine. You're always gonna be mine, Zimms.”

Jack comes all over himself.

His arms give out. He lands face-down in a pillow and drools while Parse nails his prostate, while Parse comes inside of him with a groan, while Parse collapses on top of him. He's heavy. Jack likes the weight.

“Don't get too comfy, Zimms,” Parse murmurs softly. “You've gotta go home.”

Jack whines in the back of his throat and reaches out to clutch at Parse's hands. He just needs this a little longer, Parse's mouth on the back of his neck, Parse's cock filling his ass.

He'll tell Bittle he hit traffic. There's always traffic.

Bitty/Parse, sex pollen

[(Anonymous)]

The Aces and Falcons have had enough of the subtweeting. Parsons and Bittle need to have a simple, grown-up conversation and work out their differences.

Only they get sex pollen-ed before they even start talking. Do they work out their differences anyway? Is it the hottest hatesex of their lives? IDK, go crazy.

Bad Bob/Bitty, Jack's humilation kink

[(Anonymous)]

There's nothing Jack loves more than the shame of watching his dad fuck his boyfriends. Bitty's visiting for the holidays, and its time to introduce him to Jack's kink.

Your choice if Bitty is enthusiastic about it or humiliated too.

[FILL] Welcome to the Family

[(Anonymous)]

“Hmmm. A lot smaller than Kenny, isn’t he?”
Jack huffed in annoyance and kept pumping his fingers into Bitty’s hole. “Papa.”
“I’m just making an observation, mon garçon.” Bob patted Jack’s shoulder amiably. “Is he almost ready?”
Bitty looked up at them with wide eyes, his hands gripping Jack’s biceps. “Um, Mr. Zimmermann, I don’t think—,” he stopped to let out a breathy gasp “I don’t think this is really—ah!—appropriate.”
“Aw, don’t worry, mon chou. Jack isn’t going to do anything more than this tonight.”
His forehead crinkled. “What—?”
“Papa is going to fuck you, Bits.” Jack squeezed his knee and added a third finger. “Like we talked about.”
“We did not—Jack Laurent, that was just dirty talk, I never agreed—oh!” He was looking at Bob now, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.
Bod had his hand on Bitty’s bare chest, his thumb brushing gently against his stiff nipple. “Don’t worry, kiddo. We’ve done this with all of Jack’s boyfriends.”
“B—but. Alicia?”
“What Maman doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Jack muttered, his fingers working to stretch Bitty wide.
Bob raised an eyebrow at him. “You think Maman doesn’t know?”
Jack faltered. “What?” His eyes were wide now, too, looking horrified at his father. “She does?”
“Of course! I would never hide something like that from my wife. She’s off with her friends having some—,” he pinched Bitty’s nipple, eliciting a quiet whine “—girl time.”
“Lord,” Bitty muttered.
“I think you’re almost ready, Bits.” Jack swallowed. “I’ll just—.”
“Why don’t you take a seat, Jack?” Bob was squeezing Bitty’s nipple now, rubbing the nub between his fingers with a delighted grin. “You can sit in the corner and touch yourself while your dad shows Bitty here what it’s like to be with a real man.”
Jack flushed red and pulled his fingers out, wiping them on the nearby towel. Bob took his place standing between Bitty’s legs and tugged him down so his ass was hanging off the edge of the table.
“Oh!” Bitty looked flushed too, but his gaze was more demure. He glanced up at Bob through his eyelashes. “You sure you can handle a little thing like me, Mr. Zimmermann?”
Bob laughed and traced Bitty’s hole with his finger. “Well, you’re not nearly as small as your mother, so I think I’ll be able to handle you just fine.”
“My wha—oh!”
Bob shoved two fingers deep into Bitty’s hole “Yeah. That’s right, kiddo, just lay back and let me take care of you.” Bob caught Jack’s eye and grinned. “Maybe your real boyfriend can learn something today.”
Bitty gasped and Jack burned hot with shame, his pants already tenting.
Bob winked at him. “There you go, champ. Get it up for your slutty little boyfriend here.”
Bitty started to turn his head, but Bob reached forward and clamped his jaw in his hand. “Uh-uh. You’re looking at me tonight, kiddo. Who’s gonna fuck you?”
“Y—you are, Mr. Bad Bob.”
Bob thrust a third finger in, speaking over Bitty’s gasp. “You can call me Sir tonight , Bitty.”
“Yes—yes, Sir.”
Jack swallowed and palmed at his lap.
“You know, your boyfriend over there is already into this,” Bob murmured, leaning forward to smile in Bitty’s face. “You wanna show some enthusiasm for him?” He licked a stripe up Bitty’s back, grinning at the low moan that followed. “Good boy,” he whispered into Bitty’s ear.
“Thank you, Sir,” Bitty whispered.
Bob pulled his fingers out slowly and pushed his already-open pants to his knees. He rubbed a good amount of lube on his cock and lined himself up, patting Bitty’s leg in sympathy. “I’m much bigger than Jack is, kiddo, so this will probably feel different than what you’re used to.”
He looked up and made eye contact with Jack while he pushed into his little boyfriend’s asshole.
Jack’s eyes were wet with tears.
“Oh! Oh! Mr. Bob—Sir!” Bob slid in gently, moving smoothly until he was pressed against that sweet little ass.
“There you go, kid.” Bob rubbed his palms over Bitty’s hips. “How does that feel?”
“Good, Sir,” Bitty said, his voice cracking a little.
“Yeah?” He looked up at Jack again. Jack’s pants were pushed down and he was gripping the armrests tightly, his cock sprung to attention. “You like it better than Jack’s?”
“What?” Bitty frowned and started to look toward Jack. “I didn’t say—ah!”
Bob had slapped his ass, the crack! startling both boys. “I did not tell you to look at him, did I?”
Bitty sucked in a breath. “N-no, Sir.”
Bob smoothed his hand over Bitty’s reddening skin. “You keep your eyes on me, understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Sorry, Sir.”
Bob patted his cheek. “Good boy. Now. Do you like my cock better than Jack’s cock?”
Bitty closed his eyes, a couple tears slipping out. “Y—yes.”
Bob smacked his other asscheek.
“Yes, Sir!”
“There we go.” He looked up at Jack again, his smile putting. “It’s okay, mon garçon. It’s not your fault that I’m more of a man than you could ever be.”
Jack ducked his head.
“Jack,” Bob said sharply.
He looked up again.
“I’m doing this for you. Don’t be ungrateful.”
Jack nodded. “Sorry, Papa.”
“Now why don’t you take care of your petit quéquette while I take care of your boy, hmm?”
Jack sniffed and nodded, moving his hand to stroke himself carefully.
“Good boy.” Bob turned his attention back to Bitty, who was dutifully keeping his eyes trained on Bob. “And look at you. Such a good boy, too.” Bob smiled down at him and touched his cheek. “You want me to speed up, my good little boy?”
Bitty let out a breath and nodded.
“That’s what I thought.” Bob pulled his body a little closer, letting most of his ass dangle off the edge, and then got to work.
“Oh!” Bitty seemed surprised, his mouth forming into a wide little O, perfect for fucking.
Maybe next time.
“You like that, kiddo?” Bob grinned down at him. “You like getting fucked by a nice, big cool, don’t you?” He took a peek at Jack—he was crying in full now, tugging on his too-hard cock while the shame wracked over him.
Bob laughed. “Your poor boyfriend could never give this to you himself, could he, kiddo?”
Bitty shook his head.
“Good thing he had a Papa who will step in and take care of things for him. Isn’t that right, Bitty?”
“Yes, Sir!” Bitty was bouncing on his dick, his whole body bobbing with each thrust.
“Hmm. You’re pretty strong, right, kid?”
Bitty nodded at him.
“Good.” Bob paused and tugged at Bitty’s shoulders until he was sitting upright, barely balancing on the edge of the table. He moved Bitty’s hands to his shoulders and said, “Hold on.”
Bitty held on tight as Bob lifted him up, his hands gripping his ass tight, and started thrusting into him again.
“Oh!” Bitty cried. “Oh, yes! Yes, Sir, please!”
Jack gasped quietly.
“That’s right, mon chou. I thought you’d like this.” He bounced Bitty harder, his cock pumping in and out of his asshole in plain sight for Jack to see. “And now Jack can see how much your little hole can really take, eh?” He glanced over Bitty’s shoulder and winked at his crying son. “Certainly a lot more than he can offer.”
Jack sobbed and came hard in his own hand.
Bitty clutched Bob’s shoulders and worked his legs. “Please, Sir, please!”
“Oh, he’s close.” Bob laughed as Bitty tried to rub his erection against Bob’s stomach. “You want to come, kiddo? Show Jack how good you can really be?”
“Yes, yes, please, Bob—!”
“Uh oh.” Bob stopped thrusting, holding Bitty in place against his body. “I think you forgot one of the rules, mon chou.”
Bitty whined. “Sir! Please, Sir, I’m sorry!”
“Ah ah. I already warned you once. It’s not my fault you messed up again.”
Bitty whined again, loudly, and rubbed himself against Bob’s stomach.
Bob smacked his ass. “I said no, Bitty.”
He gasped in a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry.” He stopped moving, tucking his head against Bob’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Sir. Please.”
“Well. I might let you make up for it.” He glanced at Jack, spent and soft in his chair with cum all over his hands and tears streaming down his face. “Goodness knows Jack isn’t going to be able to do anything for you any time soon.”
Jack hid his face in the couch cushion.
“Jack.”
He swallowed and looked back up.
“Good boy. Now you, Mr. Bittle. I think I can let you come, but you’re gonna have to get me off first and you’re gonna have to do it by yourself.”
Bitty sucked in a breath. “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”
Bob patted his ass. “Good boy. Now get moving.”
Bitty balanced his hands on Bob’s shoulders and pushed himself up and down, his thighs clenched tight around Bob’s waist. Bob groaned and took a couple steps back, leaning against the wall to keep his balance. His fingers drifted over Bitty’s ass and played with the edges of his hole, stretched wide on Bob’s cock. Bob moaned as Bitty worked for it, pumping himself up and down while his legs and arms shook under him.
“There you go, kiddo. I’m close. Make me come.” He leaned his head forward and whispered, “Make me come inside you, Bittle. So Jack always knows who gave it to you best.”
Bitty cried out and squeezed his cheeks together, bouncing faster and harder until Bob came with a mighty shout.
Bitty frantically rubbed himself against Bob’s stomach, whining and crying until he came, too, his cum spurting across Bob’s chest.
Bob smiled down at him and kissed his cheek. “You did so good, mon chou. Jack clearly chose well.”
He lifted Bitty up and off his softening dick, his cum dripping slowly down Bitty’s thighs.
Bitty hurried over to Jack and wiped his cheeks, kissing him thoroughly.
“I’ve got your Daddy’s cum all over me,” he said, giggling.
Jack sniffed and looked up at him.
Bob backed quietly out of the room, letting them have their moment.
He pulled out his phone and shot Bitty a quick text.
Welcome to the family ;)

Shitty/Bitty, Virginity kink

[(Anonymous)]

Bitty doesn't have much (any) experience with men, and he doesn't want his first time with Jack someone he cares about impressing to be awkward. So he goes to the only bro who actually knows he's gay. Turns out Shitty kind of has a thing for deflowering virgins and is very happy to oblige.

Falconers/Parse - Gangbang

[(Anonymous)]

Winning the cup also wins the Falconers the right to fuck the captain from a team of their choice.

Re: Falconers/Parse - Gangbang

[(Anonymous)]

HI FUCK WHAT OMG I NEED IT

Aces/Parse, Gangbang

[(Anonymous)]

Along with the Stanley Cup, Kent wins a celebratory gangbang from his team! Would love if, aside from Kent being very into it and having a great time, there was some hilarious "it doesn't count if it's the Cup" no-homo logic going on.

Fill: theirs (1/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Kent Parson was special, on and off the ice. The team knew that. Management knew that.

Since Kent was so special, the team and management had to qualms about naming Kent the permanent Captain as soon as they clinched a playoff spot. Whether or not the team made it all the way, they knew that Kent was their captain and would be their captain as long as he was on the team.

This meant that it was only a little bit of a surprise when the team took it all the way and won the Cup with Kent as their captain. He had done everything he could, pushing through injuries and sickness to get them win after win after win.

Kent would constantly give the credit to his teammates. “It’s a team sport,” he’d say. Or, “They do all the heavy lifting.” Or, “I wouldn’t have been able to do anything without these guys.”

So, when June came, Kent was ecstatic, but so, so exhausted.

He watched his teammates in the locker room pour their champagne into the Cup and have everyone drink out of it while Kent sat in his stall, just ready to fall asleep. That was until Scrappy came over. “You look ready to pass out, cap.”

Kent smiled at him. “We did it. I just want to sleep for a year.”

“You haven’t drank from the cup, yet,” he replied. “You should’ve been first.”

“Not old enough to drink, Scraps,” Kent said.

Scrappy just stared. “Don’t give me that, cap. We’ve all seen you drink. Besides, I’m not old enough either and I’ve already sipped from it.”

Kent watched as the last of his teammates drank from the Cup. Someone brought another bottle over and popped it open before pouring it into it. “It’s gonna be a mess to clean this all up tomorrow.”

“Well, luckily you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Cap!” Sheldon yelled. “You’re up!”

Kent laughed and stood up. “Duty calls.” He walked up to the center of their locker room where a giant Spade was on the floor.

“Introducing the youngest NHL captain to ever win a Stanley Cup.”

“Fuck Crosby!”

“Kent Parson!”

Kent felt himself blush. “Shut up, you guys,” he said. He stood in the middle and looked around. “How do you want me?”

“Speech!”

“No,” Kent said immediately. “Not speech. I’m not giving a speech.”

“Speech, cap,” another teammate yelled.

“You fuckers,” he said. He watched as the two starting d-men held the cup between them. Apparently the last sip was for him. “Fuck.” He looked at the guys around him and started to tear up. “This was all you guys,” he said. He was not going to take credit for something that belonged to the entire team.

“You crying, Parse?”

“Got champagne in my eyes,” Kent said, holding a hand up to fondly flick off his teammates. He shook his head. “Okay. How are we doing this?”

“It’s easiest if you kneel,” their starting center, Langman said.

Kent nodded and lowered himself to his knees. He looked up as Belk and Krueger walked over with the cup. He tipped his head back and opened his mouth. He was tempted to shut his eyes, knowing that this was going to be a mess.

The guys cheered as the first wave of champagne spilled from the cup and all down Kent’s front. He was able to get a few sips from it.

Carl and Gellman stood off to the side, watching this all take place. They both had concerned looks on their faces as they watched Kent get soaked by champagne.

“We just put a giant target on his back for next year,” Carl said.

“I know,” Gellman replied. “And the kid doesn’t even realize it.” He smiled as Kent laughed and wiped the champagne from his face. “He’s ours, you know.”

“I know,” Carl replied. “We should tell him tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Gellman replied. “Tomorrow. This is for us. Tomorrow will be for him.”

Carl nodded and clapped his hand on Gellman’s shoulder. “I hope the kid’s ready.”

Bad Bob/Kent, D/s verse

[(Anonymous)]

Jack can't dom his sub when he's in rehab. It's up to Bob to step in.

Re: Bad Bob/Kent, D/s verse

[(Anonymous)]

+1000, I'm always here for Bad Bob/Kent.

Aces/Parse, D/s verse

[(Anonymous)]

Parse is an unbonded sub - the only one on a team full of Doms and neutrals. Of course they are going to take care of their high profile rookie! Can't let some other team rough him up. That's their job.

Bitty/Jack, a/b/o

[(Anonymous)]

Alpha!Bitty turns beta!Jack into an omega by stuffing him full of come.

SMH/Bitty, Public use, objectification

[(Anonymous)]

Bitty is on the hockey team because it makes his dad happy, but he's not very enthusiastic about the sport and hates getting checked. The guys come up with a perfect solution: Bitty will ride the bench during games and ride everyone's dick every other time.

AKA Bitty becomes the Haus's live-in fucktoy. As many fun public use tropes as you can put in this one, like Bitty being allowed to wear an apron but no other clothes, being plugged at all times for easy access, the team putting him in an anonymous fuck booth for kegsters, go nuts.

Re: SMH/Bitty, Public use, objectification

[(Anonymous)]

Hi OP! Letting you know I am writing a fill for this, but my brain had to justify my porn logic so the first parts aren't even very porny. Should be coming pretty soon :)

Jack/Kent, OMC/Kent, cw for noncon, NTR

[(Anonymous)]

Future! fic where Jack and Parse are together. Jack periodically receives videos where rookie!Parse is being coerced by his GM into various scenarios. Jack gets off on them; he doesn't tell Parse.

Bonus for one of the videos to involve filthy sponsors gangbang.

Any/Kent, D/sVerse, noncon

[(Anonymous)]

Any (another player?) discovers Kent is secretly a sub and uses the information to blackmail him into subbing for them.

Carly/Kent, soulbond/soulmates

[(Anonymous)]

They both hate it. Up to to nonnies whether you want it go horribly wrong or for them to work it out.

Bitty/Jack, Organized crime!AU, public claiming

[(Anonymous)]

Jack is heir to a crime syndicate and Bitty is his normal college-student boyfriend. To extend his protection to Bitty, he has to fuck him in front of his men.

Bitty/Any, camwhore AU

[(Anonymous)]

Bitty isn't a vlogger; he's a camwhore. And his viewers are very generous as long as he's creative.

Throw in any kinks you want. Up to you whether Bitty gets caught.

Falconers/Bitty, Objectification, dubcon, public use

[(Anonymous)]

At some point, Bitty became the Falconers' team fucktoy. You can totally handwave how, that's not important. What is important is that Bitty's consent is a non-issue and nobody really cares if he's enjoying himself or not. The team stores him in a spare equipment bag or an empty locker when they're not using him, plugged up and gagged. Sometimes during games they tie him to a bench and grope him between periods, but they're only allowed to fuck him once the game is over. Maybe sometimes they have to stuff him in the locker really quick so the press doesn't see him and he's supposed to be very, very quiet (which is probably hard with that vibrator in him).

Maybe he gets to have an orgasm when he's been very good, but only then. Otherwise he's only good for fucking and making the team pie.

Re: Falconers/Bitty, Objectification, dubcon, public use - Fill 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

Snowy always brought the extra equipment bag. For one thing, nobody was ever going to question the goalie doing goalie things, especially not something as innocuous as wheeling two bags into the building instead of one. For another, everyone agreed Snowy was the best choice, because he didn't get up to bullshit that made him late like some of the other guys. Especially Jack, who had previously been responsible for the extra equipment. The team vote had been very firm on "someone definitely not Jack."

The bag that had Snowy's actual hockey gear was slung unceremoniously into his locker, but the extra got stowed neatly beneath the bench, right under Snowy's feet, where he could tap it with his heel. They'd all learned that things went badly if they left the bag zipped up alone in a corner, with no contact from anyone. Nobody wanted to deal with hyperventilating and crying killing the mood.

It took a little while for the locker room to be clear of extras. The coaches knew about their little arrangement, but nobody wanted the front office or the press getting wind of it. Snowy scooted the bag out from under the bench and unzipped it.

Even though he'd been the one to put him in there, it still surprised Snowy every time that Bitty could curl into a tiny enough ball to fit in the bag. Sure, the ties helped keep him from squirming into a position that would really hurt him while he was on the move, but seeing how small he looked tucked away in storage always did it for him.

The collar and the cuffs were something the team had invested in together. Bitty's hands were cuffed together and secured to the D-ring on the collar, just above the little Falconers logo that dangled from it. The soft black rope, though, was from Snowy's place. Loops of rope wound around Bitty's thighs, securing his ankles to them. The rest of the rope came up through the bends of his knees, around the back of his neck, and back down between his legs. The friction of the rope against Bitty's cock kept him half-hard and eager to be played with, even though he knew he probably wouldn't get to come. Snowy never bothered to gag him, like some of the other guys had. Bitty was well-trained; he wouldn't speak or come without permission.

"You trussed him up good," Marty said, pulling Bitty up by the collar. It made the crotch rope pinch and rub tighter. Bitty's breath hitched on a little gasp and his big brown eyes fluttered shut, but he didn't make any other noise.

"Keeps him from moving around too much," Snowy said. Marty took Bitty's shoulders and Snowy took his hips, the two of them picking Bitty up easily out of the gear bag. Snowy went to work on the rope, undoing the ties so they could arrange Bitty how they wanted him for the game.

"Back or stomach?" Snowy asked the room. Most of the team was barely paying attention, changing into their pads or taping sticks or whatever they needed to do to get ready for the ice.

"Put him on his back," Jack said. He was the generally accepted authority for what Bitty needed to behave at any given time. "You've got him worked up already, if you put him on his stomach he's going to rub off on the bench."

"Might be fun to watch him try not to come all over himself," Snowy said, hands still busy with the ropes.

"Nah, it'll mess with his discipline," Thirdy said. "We've just trained him out of it, you can't set him up for failure."

Snowy had a cruel streak, he would admit to anyone who asked. Part of him wanted to put Bitty on his stomach because he knew how hard he'd take it if he failed, wanted to see those big brown eyes turn liquid with ashamed tears, wanted to see how hard Bitty would try to make it up to him.

Instead, he and Marty rolled their fucktoy onto his back, Marty stretching his arms up above his head and buckling the cuffs together around the leg of the bench. Snowy loops the rope around his neck again and folds his knees, starting with the same tie he'd done before stowing Bitty for travel and then cinching the rope so his knees were pulled up to his chest, leaving his ass nice and exposed.

"Alright," Marty said, giving Bitty a little slap on the ass that made his lips part on another little gasp. "You all know how this goes. Goals get to fuck his ass, assists get his mouth, if you don't come by the time the interval is up, you'll have to wait until after the game. Try not to take too long if someone is waiting behind you."

"Yeah, Tater," Poots said, lacing up his skates. "Some of the rest of us want to get our turn in before we have to go back out."

Tater shrugged, unrepentant. "I'm liking to take my time. Besides, is how often I get assist? Rookie whines too much."

A round of chirping over Poots' impatience, Tater's stamina, or both, lasted until Snowy pulled the rest of their toys out of the equipment bag. He'd brought one of the bigger plugs, because he liked how Bitty squirmed while he tried to be good and take it.

"Anyone else want to do the honors?" he asked. "I should get dressed."

"Me," Tater said, already in his pads and jersey and skates, one of the fastest to get ready because he can never resist playing with their toy before the game. "You bring big one this time."

Tater liked seeing Bitty's hole stuffed and stretched, so Snowy wasn't surprised. He passed the lube and the plug and switched his concentration from getting their toy ready to getting himself ready to play.

Still, he kept half an eye on Tater, because Tater liked to be cruel sometimes the way Snowy liked to be cruel, and it seemed like this was going to be one of those times. He lubed up two fingers and stuffed them in right away, twisting his wrist and flexing the palm of his hand in a way that told Snowy he was tapping right on Bitty's prostate.

Bitty shivered and squirmed in his ties, toes curling and fists clenching. He couldn't move much more than that, save for rolling his head to the side, his teeth digging into his lip to hold back any sound. Tater didn't make it easy on him, finger fucking him hard enough to make his little pink cock perk up against his stomach, fluid beading at the tip. Tater was trying his best to get Bitty to misbehave, adding a third and then a fourth finger until Bitty's hole was stretched wide over his knuckles, his thumb pressing on Bitty's prostate from the outside while he worked it from the inside. Bitty's chest heaved, his eyes screwed shut, but he didn't break.

"We don't have all day," Thirdy said. "Coach will be here in a minute."

"Yes, yes," Tater said, exasperated at their impatience. He and Snowy were of similar mind when it came to playing with their toy. It was more fun when he broke the rules and they got to punish him.

The plug Snowy had packed was a little wider around than Tater's four fingers, not easy to take and definitely not easy to stay plugged with while the minutes of the game ticked by. Tater had to work it slowly into Bitty's ass, even as stretched out as he was already. His thighs trembled, and once or twice a little pinch formed between his eyebrows as Tater pushed the plug deeper.

He didn't break until Tater pushed against the base of the plug with the heel of his hand, popping it inside suddenly. They almost missed it, but an audible, high-pitched whine escaped Bitty's mouth. His eyes snapped open, seeking Jack out from across the room. He knew what his consequences were, but it was so sweet to watch his face transform into silent, puppydog pleading, complete with huge, watery brown eyes.

Jack only sighed at him. "You know the rules, Bits." He walked over to the ice machine and returned with a handful in his glove, kneeling down beside the bench. Snowy watched him intently as he held Bitty's eyes. "If you can't stay quiet, you don't get to be hard, either."

Bitty clamped his lips shut, a bloodless line. His eyes got even wider and wetter, but no amount of silent begging was going to get him out of this. Jack pressed the handful of ice to Bitty's dripping cock and Bitty thrashed, tears rolling down his cheeks, trying and unable to curl in on himself to protect his vulnerable cock from the searing cold. Snowy was getting hard, watching him writhe and cry and do his best not to make any more noise. He wrenched his eyes away and back to what he was doing.

Jack held the ice there long enough for it to melt, chilly water pooling in Bitty's belly button and running down the lines of his groin. His lips were red and bitten when he finally had to gasp for a huge lungful of air, perfect for fucking, but nobody could get their dick in him until after the first interval. When Jack finally took his hand away, Bitty's cock was soft and reddened from the cold.

Coach Matthews stuck his head into the locker room, frowning.

"You assholes done yet? Stop playing with the stress relief and get your heads in the game. If it's a fucking distraction I'll start keeping it in my office."

Nobody wanted that, so a flurry of activity resulted across the locker room. Bitty, laid out on the bench, blinked up at the ceiling, given time to catch his breath.

They still all gave him a pat on the ass as they filed out of the locker room. Snowy tapped the base of the plug with his stick as he walked past, but Bitty didn't make a peep.

"Good toy," Snowy said to him, in a low enough voice that the rest of the guys wouldn't chirp him for getting soft on their fucktoy. Bitty's gorgeous, tear-filled eyes blinked up at him mutely. Snowy pulled his mask down and grinned, heading out. First interval couldn't come fast enough.

Parse/Bitty, sex slavery

[(Anonymous)]

In a world where sex slavery is a normal thing, Bitty ends up being sold for some reason. Parse sees that Jack's boyfriend is up for bidding and buys him for reasons.

Parse has no idea what he's doing, but for the first time in forever Jack is contacting him, so he keeps using Bitty in public to get those phone calls and emails.

Then it gets more complicated when he realizes he actually likes using Bitty and having someone to take care of his place while he's busy.

Jack/Bitty, stuffing/belly kink

[(Anonymous)]

Bitty makes a lot of food. Jack eats a lot of food. Everyone is happy with this arrangement!

Nate-the-Nutritionist/Bitty, fairytale

[(Anonymous)]

Bitty bakes compulsively due to a curse. Nate just wants his team to stop eating so many pies. Eventually it's true love.

Jack/Kent sexting

[(Anonymous)]

Since it's a LDR they don't get to fuck in person very often, but Kent makes up for that by constantly sending Jack pictures/videos of himself at all hours of the day. Bonus points if it's when Jack's in public and he has to immediately go jerk off. (This could also work with Kent calling Jack when he's jerking off himself too)

Tater/Bitty, size kink

[(Anonymous)]

With lots of emphasis on size difference. If there's sex, bonus Tater has a giant dick and Bitty's is on the small side.

I would really prefer if Alexei's name (or Alyosha) were used if it's going to be porny.

Re: FILL: Don't Point that Thing at Me Unless You Plan to Shoot, 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

When they'd first met, Bitty told himself it was only because Tater ate that dang last slice of pie. He knew, most of the time, that he baked because he wanted to make people happy, and that a little part of him interpreted an uneaten slice of pie as a rejection. Most of the time he knew it wasn't rational, but that didn't stop him from feeling better when someone grabbed that last slice.

So he was grateful. To Tater. I mean, who wouldn't be? Tater had eaten the pie, and had been nice to him, and hell, he'd helped Bitty understand Jack a little better, and Lord knows that wasn't always easy, as much as he loved Jack.

And that was it. That was all it needed to be or should be. Tater was a good teammate, which was good. He could be a little bit of a friend to Bitty at family skate, and that was nice. He had a good laugh. Big hands.

Really big hands.

Okay, Eric Bittle, that's enough of that. Sure, he wasn't blind, but he knew better than to sit around thinking about just how big Alexei 'Tater is fine, no problem' Mashkov was. He had Jack, and Jack was more than enough man for anyone.

Sure, it got lonely sometimes when Jack was on the road, but it wasn't like Tater wasn't on the road with Jack too. He'd see him in interviews, his thick, musical accent, his contagious smile. Jack always looked nervous after a game, but Tater was relaxed. Hearty, Mama would've called it, if Mama was still speaking to him.

There were some teen shelters in Providence, and Sojourner House didn't mind a pie or two, so he did a lot of baking and donating. Took a part-time shift at the coffee shop around the corner from his house, so he could see more people face to face. Kept him busy, because you couldn't vlog all the time.

It wasn't that lonely. Not really.

And if some nights when he stared up at the ceiling he didn't think just about Jack coming home...well, that was between him and the bedspread.

It would be better when Jack was home for the off-season. It always was.


But somehow, even though it was his first year after graduation and the two of them had all the time in the world to be together, it wasn't better. Jack was more restless, and he didn't have the patience for Bitty's work that he'd once had. The season hadn't gone as well, and he spent more time at the rink. He didn't want to drop off pies at Sojourner House. Bitty worked on his vlogs and his recipes and worked at the coffee shop four days a week and tried not to tear his hair out.

Bitty supposed it wasn't exactly subtle, but it was still a bit sobering when he realized that the other Falcs were checking in on him. Georgia scheduled appearances at local kitchen stores, which was fun, and the press team started talking about working with the other NHL teams to make a Hockey Wives Cookbook. Marty and Gabby had them over for dinner. Tater came over one Friday for dinner with a DVD of Russian cooking shows. "For ideas," he said. "Russian shows, they do things different. You get ideas for vlog."

His English had improved a lot, but when he was tired or just with friends, he didn't work quite as hard. It was nice to think that he trusted Bitty and Jack.

Jack went to bed early, and he and Tater ended up watching more Russian videos on YouTube, silly game shows and cartoons, with Tater providing running commentary and correcting translations when he thought they weren't accurate.

It was comfortable, being with Tater on the couch. Tater was big and warm and just as friendly as he'd ever been, even with all the awkwardness that had gone on at dinner.

Bitty hated saying good night to him, and hated himself more for not wanting him to leave.

He was the boyfriend of the first out gay player in the NHL. Everyone said they were a model couple.

Bitty was pretty damn sure that being a model couple didn't involve jerking off in the bathroom thinking about Alexei Mashkov's big, big hands on him while his boyfriend snored in bed.

Camilla Collins/Jack, infidelity

[(Anonymous)]

Camilla is carrying Bitty&Jack's baby. Jack keeps coming around to check up on her. They start an affair, Bitty finds out.

Ransom/Holster, medical experimentation kink

[(Anonymous)]

Just helping a buddy study for his exams.

Re: Ransom/Holster, medical experimentation kink - FILL: Medical Shit with Ransom & Holster

[(Anonymous)]

"Look, man, I hate to ask this—"

"Dude, you can ask me anything!" Holster interrupted.

"I need help studying for my current unit. Can I do a DRE on you?"

"A DRE?"

"A digital rectal exam. You know, when the doctor asks you to bend over."

"Oh," Holster said, already feeling committed. "Sure, man. What's a little prostate exam between buddies?"

"Okay, I'll get the room ready. See you at seven!" Ransom waved and disappeared up the attic, like he'd asked for a perfectly normal favor.



While Holster played his game until he was out of lives, Ransom busied himself with getting the exam room together. He unrolled wax paper and covered his bed with it, and cut up the back of a night shirt to use it as a hospital gown. On a tray (made of a textbook covered in foil), he sat his box of gloves, his lube, and an anal speculum he'd bought online because it turned out you could just buy them and Ransom wanted to look at actual anatomy.

"Bro, you went all out," Holster said in appreciation when he walked in, easily catching the shirt thrown at him. He undressed in front of Ransom without a second thought, because it wasn't weird. They shared a bedroom and a locker room. They knew what each other looked like naked. It wasn't weird to watch Holster shove his boxers down before covering up with the gown.

"Now that you're in character, bend over the bed, feet slightly apart," Ransom said. "No, not all the way over. Just rest your elbows on the bed." He snapped on a glove, lubing the index finger rather excessively. He narrated like he was just explaining hockey language to a frog.

"First, the doctor puts his finger into the anus at a downward angle." Ransom's finger slid in easier than he had expected. "Then, the doctor waits a few seconds for the sphincter to relax." He stood there, feeling like a dumbass with his finger just resting up his best friend's butt. "Now, the doctor feels around in a circular motion. The doctor is checking for not only lumps, but also size, symmetry, texture, and firmness."

It took Ransom a few seconds to find the right spot. He found the edge of it first, then explored, marveling at how he could feel where each half began, and the little indent running between. "The exam should take about a minute," he continued, ignoring that he'd definitely be
en stroking Holster's prostate for longer than that.

Being only a shirt cut up the back, Holster's makeshift gown had fallen forward, revealing his erection. "That's perfectly normal," Ransom said. What wasn't perfectly normal was using his free hand to touch it. "Seriously man, sorry," he said, yanking his fingers back. "I've never touched another dude's erection before. I guess I was in curiosity mode."

"Nah, bro, it was okay. You can touch."

Holster's erection did look like it needed touching.

"One second, I've got another thing." Ransom pulled out his finger and took off the glove, then drizzled the speculum with lube. "You might feel a little pressure," he said before he inserted it and locked it open.

Though it normally went unsaid, Holster did have a super fly hockey butt. But as many times as he'd seen its glory, he'd never seen it with a speculum shoved up Holster's anus so that he could look inside. He'd had his finger in there.

"You cool man?" he asked. If Holster was cool, this wasn't weird.

Holster bent further forward, until his head rested on his hands. "Yeah, cool," he said.

With that permission, Ransom wrapped his left hand around Holster's cock and his right hand around his own. "The doctor is now jacking you off to see if you have normal sexual function. Before you orgasm, the balls should draw up a bit."

Holster snorted. "Nerd."

But after that Ransom couldn't speak, too busy trying to coordinate both hands while his own building orgasm kept distracting him, making his left hand falter. He decided to concentrate on finishing Holster off first, keeping his eyes on those tell-tale balls. As soon as he saw the signs, he focused on his right hand, and soon there was come striping both the wax paper on the bed and Holster's spread hole.

Ransom did the only thing that was proper. A fist-pump celly, followed by a back-pounding bro hug.