#connor mcdavid smut

[nhlmcfilthy]

Could End in Burning Flames or Paradise

I have no idea about any of the real time events, I'm assuming they both made it to the NHL right away, given their high pick status, and I'm not about to go do research on this friends, I just wanna write some dirty stuff about them being horny for each other, ok? Don't focus too much on the specifics, k?

Warnings: absolute smut (eventually). Rimming, hand jobs, light dom/sub. Not really orgasm denial but definitely asking first. I feel like there’s more to this fic, maybe a second instalment?

Word count: 7K (whoops)

The Leon Draisaitl has a problem. Specifically, Leon Draisaitl has a Connor McDavid problem. Like, he's happy to have Connor on the team - thrilled actually. A generational talent like that playing with him, it's the dream, really. He couldn't be happier than that. He spent the off season watching videos of Connor, he sees how he trains and takes care of his body. The jokes about how he's more robot than hockey player don't phase him, Leon's German, he appreciates a well run machine. He's just....distracted. Now that Connor is here and in the change room and Leon is seeing him close up, his sort of secret, not-really-a-crush-just-an-appreciation-of-his-talent-shut-up-ok THING is a problem. He's had crushes on guys before and it hasn't been a big deal, but there's something about Connor that's just magnetic to him. He can’t stop thinking about him. He FEELS him entering the room. It's like the room is getting smaller and smaller and that it's just them. All the clichés he's heard before. He just doesn't know what to do.

The first time Connor takes off his shirt in the locker room his brain sort of short circuits. He starts thinking about being on the beach with him, and how nice it would be to just like, put sunscreen all over him. Innocent enough, then he's pulling down his shorts a bit (just in case they ride down when he's tanning or playing with a football or something. Everyone knows you have to put sunscreen just under where the clothing line is...) and then Connor is looking at him with a devious look in his eye, saying he can go lower if he wants, and Leon is just...salivating. Like, he can't believe this, and then...then he's right back in the dressing room and Connor McDavid IS talking to him but he's got his base layer on and he's looking at him like he's probably said something an embarrassing amount of time ago and Leon has just been staring and good job, Leon, you should probably say something now. "Hey, Connor, Leon. Sorry, I’m still working on Germany time. So nice to meet you, great to have you on the team" and he salvages the moment, he thinks. Gotta keep it under control Leon.

Most players in the locker room don't care that he's gay, but he doesn't need to make a fool of himself here. Connor is so new here and already has the pressure of the world on him, you're just welcoming him to the team. He also doesn’t know if Connor is gay, and it’s only training camp and you don’t want to be awkward with the new superstar.

So if Leon goes home and he can't sleep that night and he looks up videos of Connor playing and working out and if he gets hard and jerks off (just a little, most of the time he's picturing Sebastian Vettel, anyways, it's just the videos of Connor that get him going) nobody needs to know, right? He tells himself he can keep it in check.

But training camp is grueling, and he's tired, and he's paired with Connor a lot, both young stars, it makes sense. And if he gets exhausted and slips into a fantasy here and there, he can't help it.

Connor is actually really sweet about it. He brings Leon an extra coffee the next morning and he also seems to think that Leon is maybe dehydrated and gets the training staff to give him extra Gatorade. He's even chatted about nutrition and Leon managed to have a totally normal conversation that time. He did not fantasize about feeding Connor chocolate dipped strawberries. Shut up brain, not now!

They have amazing chemistry on the ice, and Leon knows he should be offering to hang out more often, but Connor is actually pretty shy (and has a really strict regime/schedule) and Leon is honestly afraid to ask him anything cause he's pretty sure it'll just come out as something like "hey Connor you wanna come over and watch movie but I'm just going to be watching you and thinking about what your mouth around my cock would look like or my hands on your hips and I fuck you over the edge of this couch" and he can't really say that now, can he? There’s not much downtime anyways and Connor is always getting pulled into media.

Hockey wise, they are seriously tearing it up on the ice. He’s challenging himself to keep up every day and he seems to be the only one who can. He’s bagged at the end of the day, but like, nobody else is close to keeping up with him. He thinks he’ll have a chance to actually play on a line with Connor. He’ll just have to get used to the cellys. Their body running into each other, slamming into the boards, Connor grabbing his helmet and tucking Leon’s head into his shoulder, or throwing his arms around Leon’s waist, its…a lot. Leon is thankful for all the all the equipment he’s wearing and he rushes to the the showers directly after and takes the longest, coldest shower known to man. It’s going to get exhausting.

After the game Connor is feeling pretty jacked. All the guys are. Preseason game or not, Connor McDavid is on their team and things are looking good. Connor and Leon have been having more normal conversations where Leon can mostly control his fantasies, and then Connor comes over and slings his arm around Leon’s shoulders. He’s so close to Connor’s face and Connor is basically talking into his ear. His breath is hot on Leon’s cheek. Leon sinks into the feeling then freezes. He doesn’t want it to stop, but he also doesn’t know what to do. He’s just got his shorts on and his brain has already gone on overdrive. He’s picturing Connor putting his other arm around him the pushing his body up against Leon’s. Lining up with Leon’s ass, he can feel Connor’s dick hard and grinding into him, maybe nibbling on his ear lobe and oh no, Connor is looking at him again. Leon sort of shrugs Connor off him and he runs to the bathroom and changes quickly. Thankfully this time his body hasn’t quite caught up with his brain but he knows that was kind of an awkward move. Connor is sitting in his stall (which happens to be next to Leon’s) when Leon comes back out, looking a bit dejected. He catches Leon’s eye on the way back and Leon kinda can’t avoid it. “Sorry if I'm too handsy, I’ve been playing with Mitch Marner for the last couple years, I forget not everyone wants some guy all over them. Even I don’t like it really, just got used to it. Marns has no personal boundaries” he laughs and he’s smiling so much and Leon says it’s ok and just kinda nods a lot takes as much clothes as he can without being weird to the showers and when he’s done, Connor is doing media again.

So when Eberle hosts a party at the end of the week Leon is a bit worried. He’s never been so excited, never been so tired, and never been so horny in his life. Everything is just turned up to 11. He promises himself he’s going to take it easy, but he’s still a young guy on the team and he’s being fed drinks by Nuge and Ebs and he’s feeling a bit drunk. After a few drinks though, he actually feels great. He’s not all anxious and stressed. He’s dead tired, yes, but he can sleep it off. He’s not feeling like a tightly wound like a guitar string, ready to snap. He sees Connor across the room and he looks a bit lost. Leon just thinks “I can do this” and goes over to him. When Connor sees him coming he lights up and waves him over, clearing space on the love seat. He’s out on the deck and as far as Leon had seen, he’s had a bunch of short one on one conversations, but nobody’s really stayed in conversation too long. It must be kinda lonely being Connor McDavid, he thinks. Placed on this pedestal, so high above everyone else. No one else in even close to his level, and he’s basically only lived and breathed hockey up till now. Leon feels a bit bad for him and as he strolls across the room, he tries to put every sexy thought about Connor McDavid in a box and close it up. He sits on the couch and Connor moves over, giving Leon plenty of space, but Leon feels brave so he brings a leg up, sitting sideways across the couch, pressing his shin against Connors thigh. “How’s it going Connor” Leon smiles. The two chat for a while and eventually Connor does confide that he thinks people find it hard to talk to him, hard to relate. Leon knows pressure, he’s the highest ever drafted German player. He’s no Connor McDavid, but he’s got the hopes and dreams of Germany on his back and he feels it sometimes. They’re chatting and drinking and relaxing seems to weirdly be the answer. Leon is actually enjoying having a conversation, leaning in, Connor puts his arm up along the back of the couch and Leon doesn’t imagine holding in down and crawling on top of him (or if he does, it's in the back of his mind, easier to ignore). Eventually they’re both a bit loaded and talking about their childhoods and friends and stuff and Leon is leaning more and more into the places where Connor is touching his body, but it’s loose and light and he's mostly able to focus on the conversation and then Connor puts his hand on Leon’s thigh and he’s not even aware of it but Leon’s brain just flips and switch and he can’t stop it and he just looks at Connor and says “I want you to ride me until you beg me to let you cum” and then he freezes. Shit. He knew getting drunk was a bad idea. Connor is staring at him, head cocked sideways like a puppy. He doesn’t look mad, just confused. Leon wonders if he even said it out loud, but he’s pretty sure he did. Connor finally speaks “dude, we’re you just speaking German to me? How drunk are you?” and he laughs, throwing his arm around Leon and messing up his hair. Somehow, amazingly, he didn’t fuck this up. Also, now that he’s said it out loud, he kinda feels more relaxed. It’s like saying it got something out of his system. He wrestles his head from Connor’s grip and fixes his hair. He even reaches over and messes up Connor’s a bit. They spend the rest of the night chatting and if Leon drops a few German curse words in when he feels like Connor is being just a bit too sexy for him, who’s the wiser.

The next day the have a late practice and of course they get bag skated because everyone knows they’re hungover. Leon is bone tired. He passed out as soon as he got home last night but doesn’t feel like he slept a bit. Connor looks sort of the same. His hair is all messed up but he honestly looks amazing. He has morning sex hair and it’s not fair and Leon tells him so. Still half asleep and also exhausted, he defaults to German again, and then remembers his realization from last night. He looks away from Connor and continues to mumble to himself “you look like you just woke up after being fucked so hard you forgot your name. I want to fuck you in your stall, you riding me while holding on to the hooks, screaming my name.” He tries to make it sound boring and monotone, and he’s fairly successful, but his breath does catch at the end. Connor just rolls his eyes at him like “typical Leon” so this is a thing now. Leon is thrilled. Finally it feels like he can function. This is brilliant. Him and Connor go out for dinner after practice and he has a great time keeping up the conversation, but also mentioning in German about how he’d love to be jacking Connor off underneath the table right now.

Leon’s tendency to mumble in German or strait up forget he’s speaking German in the locker room is well known after a couple months, so when Connor comes in and says good morning Leon just nods and then Taylor looks over and rolls his eyes “they already have a sick connection on the ice, now they’re speaking German. There’s no hope for any of us to catch up” and Leon hadn’t realized that Connor had said good morning in German. He does a double take at Connor and the Canadian’s face just lights up. “I’ve, uh, been looking up some German words” and he looks so shy and bashful and Leon absolutely wants to wipe that look from his memory but also save it forever. Leon composes himself and shoves Connor a bit and jokes “you’re gonna learn how to say ‘pass the puck’ so that I just get you more assists” and Connor smiles and yes, that was the right hockey chirp in that moment. Leon regroups later at home, thinking about what this means. Most curse words he’s using are slang and not the kind that the internet will provide without digging, and it’s not like Connor has all this free time, but still, he should be careful. The next time he mumbles something in German he keeps an eye on Connor and he can see him trying but comes up blank and then it barely looks like he’s paying attention at all after a while so he stops worrying so much.

He’s gotten better at hanging out with Connor, but it’s definitely followed by some furious jerking off when he gets home. He has to do something about it, otherwise he goes back to being grumpy Leon but he’s got this balance worked out. He’s stopped feeling bad about jerking off to his friend’s body because he’s sure there’s a whole bunch of gay dudes all over the world who are into hockey and into Connor doing it too, so why should he feel bad? Just cause he knows him and is friends with him, does that make it weird? He can’t think about it too much. It’s more of just a release and it’s working.

One day after a series of losses on a road trip they’re all piling into the locker room dropping off their stuff. Connor and Leon are sitting side by side in their lockers. They sat together on the plane and Connor fell asleep on Leon and drooled a little on his arm. Leon’s just thinking about how much he’d love to see Connor drooling from sucking his cock and Connor looked all ashamed when he woke up and he’s all soft and sleepy now, dozing off again half on Leon and so he just mumbled “God Connor, you look so fucking sexy I just want to take you into the therapy room, bend you over the massage table and eat your ass until you’re begging for my dick. Then I want to fuck you until until I fill you up with my cum” and Connor suddenly sits up, eyes wild and looks at Leon, looks at the therapy room, then looks at Leon again. Shit. Leon looks around then looks at Connor when he’s satisfied no one is paying attention to them “how much of that did you understand” Connor also glances around surreptitiously and looks sheepish and is blushing quite a lot. “Well , I know you mentioned the therapy room, and uh, I think you said something about” he pauses and drops his voice in to a whisper and it also drops about an octave and gets all gravelly “about fucking me and my ass and uh, um, uh eating it?” He looks at Leon then quickly looks away. His face is so red and he’s got his arm across his chest, like he’s protecting himself and he’s rubbing at his neck. “Jesus fucking Christ McDavid, are you good at everything” Leon says and Connor laughs, but stops and just looks at Leon. He’s waiting for confirmation. He’s put himself out on a limb here, and Leon is fucking it up again. “Um, yes, I did say that to you.” Connor swallows hard. Leon can see his Adams apple move and his own breath hitches. He doesn’t want to hope, but it feels like this could happen? That all the filthy fantasies that he’s told Connor about in a language that apparently he just learned over the last couple months could come to fruition. He can’t back down now. He doesn’t want to. But he has to make sure Connor can back down if he wants. He musters up all the confidence he has (which is a lot, he’s a professional athlete, but also he’s just a guy who has had a huge crush for a long time and is really laying it on the line here) and leans in to Connor and whispers in his ear “what’s the play, McDavid, you in or out?” He leans back and smirks a bit. Connor looks a bit like he’s going to back out, and then a smirk breaks out of the corner of his mouth “fuck yeah, let’s do this.” Leon can’t breathe for a second. He thinks about asking Connor to pinch him, but that’s too cheesy and he is also very aware of how real this is by how very uncomfortable his pants have become. He stands up as coolly as possible and looks around. Luckily most of the vets have shuffled off and he thinks he can command this room. “All right everyone out, McJesus here needs to do some special workouts in the therapy room and he doesn’t want to get embarrassed by the whiny noises he makes. He sounds like a fucking porno.” The guys look around and laugh and totally buy it. Leon and Connor have been spending a bunch of time together and also an unwritten rule of the team is whatever McDavid wants, he gets. Connor looks incredulous and Leon even thinks he catches a glimpse of him adjusting himself in his shorts. Leon quickly runs though his head of all the things that he wants to do to Connor, but there’s just too many and then everyone is gone and it’s just the two of them and Connor is looking at him expectantly. “We, uh, we doing this Drai?” Leon strides by him and turns his head back once he’s walked by “fuck yeah we are” and walks in the room and holds the door open.

Leon walks inside once Connor is in the room and locks the door cause you just can’t be too careful. He looks at Connor and breathes deeply. His voice steady and a tad bit lower than he expected when he instructs Connor to take off his clothes. Leon doesn’t move to help him. He doesn’t move to kiss him or touch his face. Just makes Connor strip in front of him. He can hear a slight noise form in Connor’s throat, almost like a moan he holds back, and Leon smirks. Connor looks up once he’s just in his boxers “umm, did you want me to take everything off or…” he looks at Leon, unsure. “Yes, hotshot. You want me to eat that ass or not?” Connor almost trips getting out of his boxers. “You gonna answer me, kid?” Leon asks even though Connor is only two years younger than him. He is a rookie after all. “Uh, yes, yes very much I’d like you to. You know. Do that” Connor says, almost running out of breath at the end, and then he manages to get some dignity back and looks Leon dead in the eye with glint of danger and says “you want me to call you sir or something?” Leon seriously considers it, and thinks about what he really wants, but he doesn’t want to push it just yet, so he just looks back and says “Leon will do for now. Now turn around and put your hands on the table” he says, in the same measured, monotone voice. Connor obliges. Leon wants to say to hell with the formalities, but he also needs to know what he’s getting into. “Have you ever done this before, Connor?” Connor sort of shifts like he’s going to turn around, then decides to just talk to the massage table. “No. I’ve never been with a guy and I’ve never” his voice gets breathy “I’ve never had my ass eaten either.” Leon smiles. “And you’re ok with me cumming inside of you? We’ve both been tested, but I want to make sure” Leon spreads a hand against Connor’s back and feels him jump a bit, but then arch into his hand “oh god yes Leon.” He sounds like a kids from a 50’s sitcom (oh golly gee, yes Leon), but it also gets Leon kinda hot. “Ok Connor. You let me know if I do anything you don’t like” Connor pushes his ass shamelessly up in the air towards Leon “I don’t know if that’s possible” and Leon has to swallow hard.

Leon takes a hand and smooths it down the arc of Connor’s ass, trailing his thumb along the inside. He feels Connor gasp and then hold his breath for a bit. Leon takes his other hand off Connor’s back and pulls open his ass cheeks. Leon takes deep breath, leans in and just breathes out into the puckering hole in front of him. Connor’s whole body reacts. He sees Connor’s leg muscles tense, his back arch, he’s pretty sure he throws his head back like a fucking porn star. God this is going to be good. “How are we doing so far?” Leon asks and Connor stutters as he answers “g-g-good Leon. Fuck, so good.” Leon chuckles and breathes out little short breaths into Connor’s ass cheeks. He plants small kisses on Connor's ass, hovering over the hole, but not quite going there. Connor is whining and trying to back into him and Leon warns him by firmly pushing him back into the table "stay fucking still." Connor sounds like a fucking child when he says "but you're driving me crazy" Leon backs up a bit "oh, you want me to stop?" Leon feels Connor's whole body react to that "please no god, sorry Leon, I'll behave" Leon thinks about it for a second and then pulls a hand off Connor's ass, winds up, and slaps it. Connor groans and Leon smiles "you fucking better"

Leon puts both hands on Connor's ass again and spreads his cheeks. He flattens his tongue, licking all around the hole smoothly across the skin. After Connor relaxes into it, he starts pressing in. Connor pressing back into it, puffing out air as an involuntary response. No noise, just breath. Leon fucks him slowly but firmly with his tongue. It's been such a long time since Leon has done this, and it's really one of his favourite things to do, but he knows it a lot the first time, and he really wants to get to the main event here. He slows down and lets go of Connor's ass. He thought Connor would wine again, but he's just leaning into the table breathing hard. "You like that, Connor?" Leon says, stroking up his back. "That is" Connor says between breaths "the best fucking thing to happen to me, ever" Connor manages to get out. "And I was drafted number one in the NHL" he adds, slyly, getting a chuckle from Leon.

“I don’t have any lube, so we’re just going to have to improvise” Leon says, then leans forward again and reaches around to grab Connor’s dick. Connor chokes a high pitched moan out and Leon strokes him for a second, then thumbs over the tip, collecting precum on his thumb and then lets go. Connor whines and Leon assures him “the next bit is going to be even better than that, don’t worry” Leon says before he sticks his fingers in his mouth. He sucks on them a bit, while rubbing the thumb covered in precum over Connor’s hole with the other hand. He removes his fingers from his mouth and between Connor's fluids, the wetness from Leon's mouth, and Leon's fingers, he's able to work two fingers into Connor pretty easily. Connor eagerly takes them, once again, trying to back into them and Leon has to use one hand to hold down the younger boy's hips. "Leon, fuck, Leon that's so good. Shit. Pleasedontstop" Leon is slowly working his fingers in and out the tight hole, starting to think about himself here. He has been achingly hard in his pants for too long now. He's been able to ignore it up until now, solely focused on Connor's enjoyment, and having a good time himself, but his dick is begging to be paid attention to.

Connor feels more relaxed and after a few more thrusts with his fingers. Leon says "I think you're ready, Connor" pulling his fingers out. Once again, Connor just takes the time to catch his breath and doesn't complain. Leon takes off his shirt, pants, and boxers and gets a hand on himself. He sighs a sigh of relief, finally getting to touch himself. Slowly stroking he checks in with Connor again "how are you doing, Connor?" Connor is resting on the massage table, using it to support all his weight. "Please, Leon. Please" Leon squeezes his dick and moans with pleasure "please what, Connor?" Connor whimpers "Please fuck me. I need you. I need to feel your dick inside me now" Leon's knees buckle a bit. He's not sure he's going to be able to last very long, but likely neither will Connor. "Alright Connor, fuck, I'm gonna fuck you now" and Connor pulls himself back up on his elbows and Leon lines up with Connor's hole and he slowly presses in.

Connor has been sufficiently prepped, but Leon still takes care and moves in slowly. Connor starts backing up into Leon, but once Leon has started pressing in, he stops and cries out a bit. "Hey, Connor, take your time, slow down. You doing ok?" Leon asks, Connor gulps "yeah, it's just. A lot" Leon steadies himself. Letting Connor adjust to the feeling. "You let me know when you're ready for me to move again Connor" Leon says and Connor nods. Leon strokes up and down Connor's back, and finally Connor relaxes a bit more "ok, I'm good" and Leon starts moving in again slowly. It's excruciating, but also exciting. Knowing Connor is going to grow and stretch around him, and he has to close his eyes and hold back a couple of times cause he's getting pretty close himself. He’s never fucked somebody he cared about this much, and he's never been anyone's first time. He hooks up at bars and online, but this is totally foreign and kind of intense. Leon's proud to be Connor's first time. He wants it to be perfect. Connor is just so eager and feels so good around him. He's got a rhythm going now, each time pushing in a bit further and when he finally bottoms out, both him and Connor groan in unison. "God Connor, you're so tight, you feel so fucking good" Leon moans. Connor just rests his head against the massage table and hums in approval. He's starting to move with the rhythm, backing into Leon and Leon is beginning to feel overwhelmed.

Everything he's held back for the last couple months, every single fantasy he's had, it barely lives up to the real thing. He's fucking Connor McDavid and there is nothing better in the world. Connor is starting to moan and whine and move erratically and Leon leans over and asks "do you want to touch yourself Connor" and the younger man gasps and pushes up and reaches down to his cock. He turns around to look at Leon to make sure and Leon just nods. Connor wraps his hand around his dick and loses his footing a bit. His knees buckle and Leon grabs tightly onto his hips to steady him. Connor is stroking himself sloppily, moaning nonsense, but Leon makes out his name so he asks 'what do you want Connor?" Connor's speech is almost slurred when he replies "Leon, can I?" Leon closes his eyes and steadies himself knowing that his own release won't be much longer after Connor's. "Can you what, Connor?" He asks coolly. Connor works hard to keep his composure "can I cum Leon" he says. Leon bucks a little harder into Connor, and elicits a shout, but Leon calmly says "yes Connor, you can cum" and he feels Connor begin to stroke faster and everything gets tighter around his dick and Connor is moving so much and Leon is trying to steady him. Connor starts babbling and there's a series of "oh, oh fuck, oh fuck Leon. Shit, fuck, I think I'm gonna. I'm gonna cum, fuck" and then a tortured moan comes out and he's clenching all around Leon's dick and Leon is barely holding on here. Hearing Connor's reaction, hearing him say his name, knowing that it's Leon that made Connor feel this way, feeling him clench so tightly, Leon's starting to come undone. He grips tighter to Connor's hips, knowing that he's going to leave a bruise, and starts to feel his release coming. "Connor, you've been so fucking good, I'm gonna fill you up now. Fuck, Connor, you feel So Fucking Good” he say, punctuating each thrust. Connor is still stroking himself and Leon thinks he must be pretty raw at this point, but he keeps going and Leon finally releases with a groan. His knuckles are tight where they are gripping Connor’s hips and he is definitely going to leave bruises, but he thinks that Connor might enjoy having these little memories of tonight. He’s certainly going to enjoy seeing them later in the locker room and well, that’s something to file for next time. He releases his grip and takes Connor’s hand in his and slows him down until he’s let go of his dick completely. He still seems pretty dazed, the side of his face laying against the massage table. Leon is still inside Connor, and he leans over to whisper in Connor’s ear causing Connor to whimper as Leon’s still hard dick pushes deeper inside. Leon shudders as well. “You did so good, Connor” Leon croons into his ear. “So good for me. Did you have a good time?” Connor makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan and tries to nod his head. Leon lets go of Connor and brings his hand up to stroke his face. “I’m gonna pull out now, and do you know what’s going to happen?” Connor tries to shake his head but just ends up looking at Leon questioningly. “I’m going to pull out and all my cum is going to leak out of your asshole where I filled you up.” Connor melts a little bit and Leon steadies him. “You made me cum so much, there’s going to be a lot.” Leon keeps stroking Connor’s face, making his way to his neck and keeping firm pressure on the back of Connor’s neck and upper back. “It’s going to drip down and feel so nice, and do you know what I like to do with it?” Leon asks, slowly stroking down Connor’s back “I like to clean it all up with my tongue” and Connor is sinking again. “Do you think you’d like that, or do you want to stop for tonight?” Leon says as he takes Connor’s hips again, trying to avoid the spots that are blossoming into bruises. “I…” Connor stutters “I want it. Fuck, Leon, I want it so bad, please Leon”

Leon wishes he had a his phone so he could record this as a voice note. It’s like the best porn, hearing Connor say that. Leon steadies himself and slowly pulls out of Connor, who whimpers a bit, but manages to stay still. Leon’s cock is followed by a trail of cum, slowly leaking out. Leon grabs a cloth and wipes himself off, and then puts both hands on Connor’s ass cheeks again. It’s like a bookend of rim jobs, and Leon thinks about how lucky Connor is to have him do this. Not in a cocky way, just the fact that someone has taken care during his first time.

Leon directs his attention back to Connor and sees that the cum has made its way down as far as his right knee. Leon starts there, licking up the inside of Connor’s thigh and under the swell of his ass, gathering it in to the hole and then licking it all up with his tongue and swallowing. Connor’s legs are shaking and he is lying on the massage table and using it to support most of his weight. His face is turned into the mattress and his eyes are pressed closed. His mouth is open, just a little bit. Leon continues licking around and cleaning up all the cum. He loves following the lines of liquid and getting every last bit. He appreciates a clean surface. When he’s done he presses kissing on the insides of Connor’s cheeks and squeezes the swell of his ass.

Connor is fully hard again and Leon runs a hand up and down his back “do you think you can cum again, Connor?” Connor hesitates “I’m not sure. I want to, but it’s so…so much” “I know baby” Leon strokes Connor’s back slowly and Connor basically mewls at the nickname. “Do you like it when I call you baby?” Leon asks, already knowing the answer. “Yes” Connor whispers, turning his face back into the massage table. “Don’t be ashamed, baby. I’d love to call you that” Leon says, knowing what he wants to ask, but not knowing if he should. It’s like, the ultimate fantasy, and this has already shattered his wildest fucking dreams, he doesn’t want to ruin in. Fuck it, though. He wants it, and he’s going to ask for it. “Connor, I’d really like it very much if you called me daddy, do you think you could do that?” Connor swallows heavily “yes daddy” he says breathlessly, and fuck. Leon thinks his brain is going to explode and his dick is also very interested in this now. “Thank you baby, you’re so good to daddy. Do you want me to finish you off? We can do it together” and Connor looks back and Leon and nods. “I’m going to need you to stand up, baby” Leon says, stepping back from the massage table. Connor closes his eyes and takes a second “yes daddy” Connor says and Leon smiles.

Connor pushes himself up and stands up facing Leon, who then steps towards Connor and cups his face. Leon looks at Connor and realizes that they haven’t kissed yet. A weird omission, but I guess it kinda started all hot and heavy, and that’s the way Leon likes it, but this feels more like a sweet moment. Leon leans in and presses his lips against Connor’s. Connor presses in hard and starts opening his mouth. Licking into Leon’s, full of desire. Leon pushes his tongue into Connor’s mouth, chasing the other boy’s tongue. He wonders if Connor can taste Leon’s cum, and his own ass. Leon is aching with how perfect this has been. How Connor has fulfilled every fantasy. He reaches down and grabs his and Connor’s cocks together in one hand and starts jerking them, hard. They’re both still slicked up with cum and they’re both raw and on the just the other side of uncomfortable. Connor is whining and sucking on Leon’s tongue and Leon pulls his tongue out of Connor’s mouth and bites on his lip, sucking hard afterwards. He makes his way to suck on Connor’s ear lobe while they both take some breaths. “You like this, baby?” Connor is breathing hot against Leon’s shoulder, leaning on him to hold himself up. “Yes daddy, you’re so good to me, daddy, I’m gonna cum again for you” and Leon smiles and takes a quick nip on Leon’s neck before sucking a large mark. “I just want to let everyone know you’re mine, baby” Leon said and Connor nuzzles his face into Leon’s neck, mumbling. Leon isn’t gonna last much longer, and he’s pretty sure if he told Connor to cum now, he’d be ready to go. “Do you want to cum again for me, baby?” Leon whispers on Connor’s ear “yes daddy, so badly” Connor mouths onto Leon’s neck. “Ask nicely” Leon says. “Please daddy, can I cum now?” Connor asks. Leon’s starting to feel his own orgasm coming from the friction of his hand and Connor is bucking into it causing frictions on their dicks. Leon whispers “cum for me baby” in Connor’s ear and nibbles on his ear lobe as he feels Connor start to shake and fall apart. “I’m…I’m…im cumming for you daddy, oh god, oh fuuuuuck” Connor cries as he falls into Leon, and Leon struggles to hold them both up.

He leans Connor against the massage table after a few seconds and finishes jerking himself off, looking at the tired and spent Connor McDavid and replaying his favourite parts from tonight in his brain. He has a lot of material for later. He cums loud and hard and Connor just stares at him, looking dazed, but very satisfied. He wipes up again and walks up to Connor, bent over the massage table again. “Why don’t you lie down for a bit, it’s ok, I’ve got you, I’ll take care of you” Leon says, helping Connor onto the table. He finds a towel and he cleans Connor up. He finds his boxers and puts them on and grabs two more towels. “I’ll be right back, you just relax, I’ll take care of you baby” Leon says as he unlocks the room. Connor lies in the dark, collecting his thoughts and coming back to his body and soon enough Leon returns with two warm, wet towels. He puts one on Connor’s forehead, and uses the other to clean himself and Connor up, uttering soothing sounds, telling Connor how good he was. “So good for me, I hope you had a good time.” Connor grabs Leon’s arm and looks him in the eye “fuck, that was, I didn’t even know it could feel that good. Shit Leon. I mean, daddy” and he blushes. Leon looks down at Connor lovingly “you can call me Leon again. We’ll save daddy for in the moment stuff. You don’t want to slip up in the locker room” and Connor nods, squeezing Leon’s arm. “I don’t think I can move, can you carry me home?” and Leon cracks up at that. The idea that he fucked superstar Connor McDavid so good that he can’t move and needs to be carried, that’s something he’s going to hold onto until the grave. “You’re good, big guy” Leon says tapping Connor’s side “let’s get you home” he said collecting Connor’s clothes. They think about showering again, but it’s already late and they are super tired. Leon watches Connor get dressed, proud when he winces over a bruise, or walks a bit delicately from getting fucked, and he swells with pride. “Wanna stay at my place tonight? We can stop by yours on the way and get anything you might need for the morning?” Connor nods and smiles. Leon grabs another towel and a spray bottle and cleans up the rest of their mess. He takes all their used towels and throws them in a laundry basket. Leon sees Connor just standing there and comes up behind him, kissing the back of his neck, sliding his hands up Connor’s shirt in the front and running them over his chest. Connor hums. He turns around to face Leon and puts his hands on the small of Leon’s back. Leon steps into Connor and places a hand on the back or Connor’s neck. He brings their bodies together and when their dicks meet, even fully clothed, Connor hisses inwardly. Leon smiles and said “so good, baby” and kisses Connor’s lips. Connor smiles and after a quick kiss says “learning German was really worth it” and Leon doubles over laughing. He can’t breathe. He’s starting to feel the day and the last hour catching up to him. “Let’s go home, Connor” Leon guides him out of the room and into the locker room as they gather their stuff. “So” Connor looks at Leon while he’s throwing some gear in his bag and asks “is this just a one time thing, or…” and Leon smiles “you think that short of shit happens all the time, rookie?” Connor blushes “you know what I mean” and Leon sits next to him and leans in “I don’t plan on letting you get away any time soon. That was the best sex I’ve had in my life and guess what? It’s only going to get better” he plants a kiss on Connor’s cheek and squeezes his hand. “Now let’s get going, some of us didn’t get to lie down!” Connor rolls his eyes at Leon, but he’s still looking at him like he’s the best thing he’s ever seen. And he probably is. And they’re going to play hockey together for a time. And also sometimes, they’re going to fuck. And Connor wouldn’t want anything else.

[leafs-lover]

Who should I write about? Pacific Battle

I've had this idea in my head for weeks now, and I just can't get it out of my head, so I'm going to write it :)

That said, I am wildly impartial to who the player is and have decided to leave that up to you! There are some requirements for the player in order to make the story work, so unfortunately some players are not eligible for this.

This story is more smut than anything else, so the player isn't all that important to me. To make it easier to navigate, I am splitting the polls into each division, these polls will last one week. I will be taking the top 8 overall and making a poll with them. The winner of that poll is who I'll write about.

Metro Poll // Central Poll // Atlantic Poll

Quick fic summary:

Reader insert. Reader and player grew up together but an unlikely friendship (he was a jock and she was a socially awkward band member)

Smut, smut, and even more smut! (I may mix in a sliver of plot, but its basically all smut)

Player will be readers teacher, coaching her on everything in the bedroom 🥵

Could have multiple parts but they will all be stand-alone pieces. May also be months between them (I long ago gave up the idea of committing to writing schedules)

[hockeysnapsgalore]

[offside-the-lines]

i'm half-doomed & you're semi-sweet | Connor McDavid (x Male!OC)

Summary: After a painful playoff exit to end the 2022-23 season, Connor just needs to get as far away as possible, all the way to Gold Coast, Australia. He expects some peace and quiet, a reprieve. What he doesn't expect is this happy and carefree bartender, Lucky, to make him question the choice he has been making since he was 10. Title inspo: Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes by Fall Out Boy

This fic is dedicated to @hiding-from-reality-56 for @wyattjohnston's Summer Fic Exchange 2k24. I'm really sorry it's late. Life has been nuts. I really hope you like it! S/O to Demi, Ashley and T for being my cheerleaders, beta readers and editors. Ilysm. Pairing: Connor McDavid x M!OC. This fic features an original male character. Word count: 11.3k Warnings: SMUT: 18 + ONLY. MINORS DNI. SAFE SEX RESOURCE. Angst, lots of (I would say light) angst (first 1/2). Smut, lots of (light to medium) smut (second 1/2). This fic deals with internalized homophobia and coming to terms with your sexuality by way of having your first gay and first sexual encounter (it's hot and sweet, I hope). This was a super meaningful topic for me to write about, and I hope it resonates. Please take care of yourself if this is a topic that is sensitive for you. Connor is also, as I liked to say as I was writing this, Cognitive Distortions and Anxiety and Self-Doubt stacked on top of each other in a trench coat. Our poor boy is going through it in this. The smallest emetophobia warning. Small mention right in the first section (7 paragraphs in). Masterlist | (My requests are currently closed.) | Read this story on AO3

It’s 4 am on May 15th, and Connor’s lying in his own bed. And the only thing he can think about is what should’ve been.

He should be going to Vegas, getting ready to win Game 7.

Or better yet, he should’ve never let it get to that point—needing a Game 7. They should be getting ready for the conference finals.

The humiliation of yet another failed year—a second-round exit, no less—stings deep, and he feels the bile rise in the back of his throat. The taste of ‘This is our year’ sits rotten on his tongue, the number of times he said it to the boys. Momentarily, he wonders if he ever truly believed it. If any of this means anything at all. Or if he really is just a mouse in a cage running on a wheel going nowhere.

The silence in Roger’s Place is all he can hear in the darkness of his own bedroom. It makes him feel like he’s going to crawl out of his skin. The idea of going back to his Toronto house, carrying the looming absence of those 35 pounds, makes him want to throw up.

Or maybe that’s just—

He bolts up in his bed, runs to his toilet, and throws up nothing but bile.

With his head resting against the cold ceramic, he thinks about his parents. He knows they’re not going to be disappointed. They don’t care about the Cu— They don’t care about all that. They care about him, but he doesn’t think he can stomach another off-season of their pitying looks and gentle encouragement.

Another off-season walking around the city of Toronto, feeling like everyone is laughing at him. ‘Look, there goes the Next Great One, the so-called McJesus. What a joke. Look at him, he’s a failure.’ He can hear their thoughts.

They don’t even know about the other thing.

He rinses his mouth and stumbles back to his bed. He picks up his phone and texts his agent about finding somewhere different to train this offseason before he can think better of it. “...in I don’t know. Fucking Australia or something. Just. Somewhere far,” he adds.

He sits on his bed, fiddling with his phone for a while.

He sighs and rests his head against the headboard. He closes his eyes and drifts, picturing what his life might look like if he wasn’t… Well… Him.

He remembers a sports psychologist he was encouraged to see called it ‘maladaptive daydreaming.’ Which—that’s always felt a little ridiculous, given that they also recommend ‘visualization techniques’. ‘Picture yourself scoring the goal, Connor,’ they’d say.

It always felt like the same thing.

He sighs and texts Jeff again. “Totally okay if not. I know it’s super late notice. Just feel like it might be good for me. And for next year.”

The next few days pass like a blur, just room full of people after room full of people. Saying the same meaningless comments over and over. Play the part. Be sad, but not too sad. Be honest, but not too honest.

It doesn’t help that Leon’s grumpy, too. Well, not so grumpy he won’t sit on Connor’s couch—that does occasionally happen—but grumpy enough that he’s been mainly communicating in grunts. But, Connor figures, a grunting Leon is better than no Leon, so they sit in miserable silence as episode after episode of Friends plays on his ridiculously large 85-inch TV.

Which—who even needs an 85-inch TV? Well… Connor does, apparently, according to his decorator anyway. It’s ridiculous, and he hates the excessiveness more with each passing minute. He considers how bad it would be to just rip it off the wall. Probably quite bad. He doesn’t do it. Instead, he pokes Leon in the side with his toe and smiles weakly when he gets an irritated grunt in return and a heavy hand gripping his ankle.

Connor does his duty as Captain and hosts one last team barbecue in his absurd house that makes him feel like a zoo exhibit. He says goodbye to Leon for the summer—every year, it feels stilted and weird; he can never find the right words, but he thinks Leon gets it anyway. Or at least some of it. Not that Connor really knows what “it” is.

Not that Connor really wants to know what “it” is.

Connor swallows down the lump in his throat and turns his phone off, settling in for the flight from LAX to Brisbane, Australia—apparently, Jeff took him literally. He can’t help but think What the fuck am I doing? But that’s the point, right? To not think.

For once in his life, it would be nice to just do something without thinking about it endlessly. To just do something without thinking through the whole play, without reviewing the tape and dissecting everything that could go wrong.

He pops a sleeping pill with the hope that maybe it means he won’t spend the 15-hour flight ruminating on whether or not he should be doing this at all. And then ruminating on whether or not he should be ruminating on whether or not— Yeah. Five hours of rumination he can do—he does it often with the NHL schedule and the Edmonton of it all—but 15 hours seems to be a stretch even for him. So, he pops a sleeping pill.

Besides, he hopes that if he’s asleep, he won’t have to make any more eye contact with the flight attendant whose hand Connor accidentally touched when he helped Connor put away his carry-on. He kept making such earnest conversation with Connor, a smile crinkling the corners of his dazzling green eyes as Connor embarrassingly fumbled over his words, which—

Yeah, he needs to get a grip. And sleep. Hopefully, when he wakes up, he will feel a little less mortified—from experience, unlikely. At least the guy was Australian and didn’t seem to know who he was.

Connor wonders if he would be like this if he worked in something mundane, like finance or sales. If he’s destined to be this way, or if hockey made him this way. At this point, it was impossible to determine where Connor ends and McDavid-97 begins.

Luckily, hockey means he gets the good pills, at least, and he is knocked out for at least 12 hours.

Connor spends the first few weeks in a weird state of suspended animation, just going through the motions of his off-season training. He meets the trainers, who seem to have been briefed by Gary on what he needs and throws himself into the work. No one recognizes him except for a couple of the guys at the rink. But they don’t bother him. It’s a relief. He thinks he understands why Leon fucks off to Mallorca every summer. He wonders why he doesn’t fuck off to Mallorca with him—something else to not examine further.

He takes himself to the beach and watches the surfers and tries to remember to reapply sunscreen every 30 minutes, or whatever, even though it’s “winter”. He fails, of course, and burns bright red after only a few days. He’s forced to return only in the late afternoons.

He finds a pub-thing between his condo and the beach and sits at the bar for dinner every day; nothing better to do. He orders a beer with his dinner at the bartender’s suggestion. He hates it. He drinks it anyway. The bartender—Connor thinks he said his name was Lucky?—probably thinks he’s an absolute freak, judging by the little glances he throws Connor’s way and the amused look he has every time Connor orders.

It doesn’t help that Lucky is kind of stunning. It’s a thought that Connor usually keeps locked up, stuffed in some deep crevice of his mind where he won’t have to examine it, but the longer he watches Lucky—not that he’s watching, he just happens to be at the bar every night, and there’s not much else to do—the more he notices.

Connor watches the messy mop of curls fall in front of his eyes every time he bends over to put ice in a drink and the way he brushes it away with the back of a toned, tattooed forearm. It’s hard to tell exactly how dark his hair is or what the color of his eyes is in the dim interior of the pub, but Connor finds himself itching to know.

But the thing that Connor thinks about as he lays in bed at night is the way Lucky interacts with everyone—playful, easy. He notices the way he flirts—and the guys he flirts with. There’s this weird tightness that settles in his gut, and it twists every time he catches Lucky’s bright smile and the glint in his eyes.

There are an increasing number of days when Connor feels the need to stay until closing. There are a few other regulars he’s gotten to know, and it’s fun to hear about their lives. They will chat with Lucky as he’s cleaning up the bar. 

It has nothing to do with the way Lucky will sometimes take some guy home. Nothing to do with the way it’s just out in the open. Bold, confident, and unashamed. There are never any side-long glances from anyone, no snide comments.

Connor is completely unable to ignore the way his chest feels too small every time it happens. He wonders if he could ever do that. He wonders if he could even look at the thing head-on.

He thinks maybe Gold Coast Connor could.

It takes him until the night before his flight to the NHL awards to decide that Gold Coast Connor can make moves. Gold Coast Connor has the confidence and freedom that Connor McDavid does not. Gold Coast Connor is funny and banters with strangers.

Connor McDavid knows to never have more than two drinks. It affects his performance the next day.

That’s why Gold Coast Connor has 5 or 6. Switches to whiskey after the usual disgusting beer. Lucky chuckles at him.

“I knew you hated that. Was trying to see how long you were gonna keep drinking that for. You should see the face you make every sip.”

Connor's face heats; he knows the ruddy red cheeks look ridiculous against his messy ginger beard.

After the third drink, Lucky shoots him a look. He responds with only a shrug, and he seems to decide to not press the issue.

He knows he’s drunk when he shoots his shot.

“Come home with me today,” he says to Lucky, leaning over the bar conspiratorially.

He laughs, smile wide and easy, eyes wrinkling. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Lucky’s smile shifts, and he stares at Connor for a long moment, lips pressed together. The weight of the look sits heavy on him and makes him squirm. He fights the urge to run.

“Yeah, nah,” Lucky decides, “I think it’s time to cut you off. Switch to water.”

Connor suddenly realizes how this must look to him. “I’m serious,” he blurts out, “about the offer, I mean.”

Lucky laughs. “Good to know.” He winks, and Connor feels very warm. “But you’re six drinks deep when you usually only have one beer. Whatever this—” he gestures at Connor “—is, I’m not sure I want to get involved in that.”

His stomach sinks like a rock, and bile licks at the back of his throat. “Oh.” About twenty different thoughts battle in his mind, fighting for dominance.

Lucky looks at him consideringly and sighs. “Connor, it’s not a no. It’s a not today. Trust me, I am very interested. You’re—Look, you’re going on your business trip tomorrow, right?”

Connor nods.

“Okay, talk to me when you get back, yeah?” He leans in—it makes his biceps pop, but Connor tries not to let his eyes catch on it—something akin to amusement dances in his eyes as his lips curl into a smirk. “You can wait that long. You can be good, can’t you?”

A heat settles in Connor’s gut. “Uh, yeah,” he splutters.

Lucky leans back, his smirk bigger now, satisfied. “I thought you’d be into that. Yeah, we’ll have some fun when you get back.”

Connor swallows thickly; something that might be hope simmers under his skin.

The good feeling Lucky leaves him with doesn’t last long. It starts with the mountain of texts, missed calls, and voicemails that come through as soon as he puts his normal SIM card back in.

It only gets worse when he’s faced with Leon’s fury. Leon is pissed off often, but it is rare to see him genuinely angry.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Leon fumes, steel grey eyes not even a foot from his face as he grips Connor’s arm so tightly he thinks it might bruise.

“Um, look—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Leon continues right over Connor’s soft voice. “I had to call your agent just to make sure you were still alive. Hey—at least Cameron got a text, right? Nice of you to not ghost your family, I guess. Guess I didn’t make the cut, eh?”

“Leo, I’m s—”

“You know,” Leon grits, “I was going to fly back to Canada ‘cause I thought something had happened to you. But, no. Glad you’re living it up in Australia. Glad you’re having so much fun.” He drops Connor’s arm and steps back, chest heaving as he breathes heavily. “Well, if you don’t want anything to do with me, then you can have nothing to do with me.”

“Leo, please—” Connor’s voice breaks as his throat burns and his chest tightens like a vice grip.

“Fuck you, Connor. Seriously, you’re a fucking selfish asshole,” he says as he walks away, the door of Connor’s hotel room slamming behind him.

It takes too long for Connor to remember how to breathe after that, sitting on the floor of his hotel room, staring at his shaking hands.

The day somehow gets worse from there when he has to ask Mikael Backlund, of all people, why Matthew has a sling on.

Backlund gives him a strange look. “Wh—Chucky?”

“Yeah,” Connor swallows.

After a beat of silence, he says, “He broke his sternum. Game 3 of the finals against Vegas. Played in Game 4 anyway. Didn’t matter in the end.” Backlund winces. “They lost in 5.”

“Oh,” Connor winces in return.

Backlund stares at him for a while. “Heard it was pretty bad.”

“Shit.”

The festivities continue around them. He gives a cordial nod to Nico Hischier and Jack Hughes as they walk past.

“I thought you two were friends; that’s what Chucky used to say anyway,” Backlund finally says.

“We are,” Connor swallows around the guilt sitting in his throat. “I just, uh, needed a break, so I was—Never mind. It looks like duty calls, so I’ll be—” Connor forces himself to stand up and gestures towards the event people waving at him. “Have a good night. See you next season.”

Backlund nods with an expression Connor can’t quite place—he thinks it might be pity.

Connor sleeps so poorly over the next few days, and it’s a wonder he’s coherent when he meets the Bedard kid. He feels horribly ill-equipped to give the kid any advice and fumbles through some generic pointers. Leon was much better, as he usually is at these things.

At least the time together allowed him to earn back some of Leon’s good graces. They part with a promise of photos and texts and a hug that makes Connor feel unmoored. He wonders if Leon can tell he’s barely holding it together and just doesn’t care enough to ask anymore. He hopes not. He really needs it to not be that.

I guess we can add ‘friendship’ to the list of things Connor McDavid can’t do, he thinks. When he closes his eyes, he can only picture Leon’s furious expression, or Backlund’s confused disappointment, or Matthew’s annoyingly amused smirk when Connor finally had the chance to catch up with him and explain his absence. 

Leon’s anger is still the one that stings the most. It’s the one that plays on a loop in his head. It pops into his head at unexpected moments. It’s kept company with all the other failures and misses that haunt him.

He doesn’t sleep a wink on the flight back to Australia. 

It takes Connor a few days to work up the courage to go to the pub again, now more sure than ever that he made a fool of himself the last time. But, eventually, he forces himself to just do it—it has nothing to do with his inability to cook.

Lucky greets him, same as always, with an easy smile and a glint in his eye. It’s so normal that it makes him think Lucky forgot about their last conversation. But, something about the way he reaches across the bar and taps Connor on the wrist as he laughs at some dumb comment Connor made. Or maybe it’s the wink he sends Connor when he catches Connor staring at the way his shirt rides up when he reaches for the top-shelf liquor…

Either way, Connor knows deep down that Lucky definitely remembers their conversation. Which means Lucky knows something about Connor that no one else does. 

It’s a thought that should make his chest tighten and stomach churn—the idea of it alone would usually send him down a paralyzing spiral—but instead, it makes him feel feverish, a small crackle of expectation settling just below his navel. There’s just something about Lucky that eases something in his chest—Well, there just is something about him.

Neither of them do anything about it, though. Connor can’t decide if he’s disappointed or relieved.

A few days later, it’s almost closing and it’s quiet in the pub. There’s tennis on the TV: Wimbledon, Connor thinks, possibly a replay. He isn’t really paying attention. If he’s honest, he’s never really got tennis. Leon likes it, though, so he watches when it’s on.

“So,” Lucky says, interrupting Connor’s trance. He���s leaning against the bar back, polishing a glass—it makes the muscles in his forearm ripple. Connor pointedly doesn’t stare.

“So?” Connor says weakly. He knows. And he knows that Lucky knows he knows. He still doesn’t acknowledge it. He quickly looks around to check if anyone is close by.

“Did you still wanna come home with me?” Lucky says.

He just drops it into the space between them like it’s nothing. He just says it like it doesn’t turn Connor’s world upside down and his guts inside out.

Deep down, Connor knows that he could say no and Lucky would never mention it again. No hard feelings. Easy. They could both pretend like it never happened. Which is what Connor should want—it is what Connor wants. Which is why Connor is going to say no.

“Yeah.” It comes out close to a whisper, but it doesn’t need to be audible because Lucky smiles. Connor feels his cheeks heat, and it’s like every inch of skin suddenly fires up like live wire. 

Lucky turns around and places the glass on the shelf, and Connor blows out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding in a puff. 

“Good,” Lucky says when he turns back around, “‘cause I already asked Kazza to close out for me tonight. I just need to grab something from the office, and then I’m good to go.”

Connor swallows. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Lucky runs his bottom lip through his teeth consideringly before he flashes Connor a heated grin and walks away. 

Connor waits for the pang of regret or guilt to hit; something to tell him to put a stop to this. It doesn’t come. All he feels is the prickling simmer of anticipation.

“Connor?” Lucky says, poking his head around the corner.

“Huh?”

“I meant for you to follow me,” he chuckles.

“Oh!” Connor scrambles to get out of the bar stool—it’s an entirely ungraceful affair—and follows Lucky and waits in the hall.

When he emerges from the office, he hands an envelope to Connor. “Can you hold this for a sec? Just need to put my jacket on.”

“Yeah, sure.” Connor looks down at the envelope, which has Lachlan written in Sharpie on the front. “Who’s this for?”

Lucky freezes and cocks his head. “What?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—It’s just on the—Nevermind. Don’t worry about it,” Connor mumbles.

“No, no. Wait.” He shakes his head and huffs. “It’s me? Lachlan, that’s my name?” He pronounces it like Lock-lan, which confuses Connor more.

“What do you mean?” 

“Lachy… It’s short for Lachlan?”

“It is?” Connor furrows his eyebrows.

“Yeah, mate! What have you been calling me?”

“I thought your name was Lucky!”

Lucky—or Lachy?—bursts out laughing, snorting a little as he clutches his sides. “I thought you were just saying it weird,” he manages to get out between laughs.

Connor rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean, it was loud in there when you introduced yourself, so…” he lets himself trail off. He shifts on his feet, looking at the carpet.

Lachy shakes his head, still chuckling as he grabs Connor’s hand at the wrist. “Come on, this way.”

“It’s a bit weird now ‘cause I’ve been calling you Lucky all this time, and you’re Lucky in my head. I guess I have to change that now,” Connor murmurs, largely to himself.

Lachy hums. He tugs on Connor’s wrist and pulls him forward, swallowing the space between them as he backs them into a door. In a snap second, it’s like all the air has left the room, the world around them focusing in on the one point of contact at Connor’s wrist. Lachy’s hand is warm as it applies some pressure.

There is a beat of silence where Connor doesn’t know what to do but look. The lighting is a little better back here, and it catches on the strands of Lachy’s hair that have been lightened by the sun. In this lighting, Connor thinks Lachy’s eyes might be hazel or maybe a warm amber. He feels an inexplicable need to find out. 

The thing that catches Connor off-guard is the way he has to look down at Lachlan. Connor knew that he’s shorter—has seen him with his coworkers to compare—but it didn’t prepare him for the way it feels. The way that Lachy’s everything makes him feel pinned in place even as he towers over him—the six inches or so of height difference feels meaningless under his heated gaze.

Lachy reaches back with his free hand and grabs the door handle.

“You can keep calling me Lucky if you want, seeing as you’ll be getting Lucky tonight, right?” The corner of Lachy's lip ticks up in a smirk as he bites back a laugh. He leans in. “You can call me whatever you like once I’m inside you.”

Connor chokes. “Um, okay?” he squeaks, spluttering.

Lachy—Lucky?—leans his head back against the door and laughs. There is no explanation for the way the sound seeps into Connor, reaching every single crevice. It should be embarrassing to be this affected by someone’s laugh. Connor doesn’t have time to explore that thought further as Lucky pushes the door open and pulls Connor with him into the cool evening air.

The walk to Lucky’s place is not very long. But it is enough time for Connor to feel the ever-present doubt creeping in, even as Lucky tells him a funny story about a collision he saw while he was surfing that morning. He’s standing so close. Close enough that he can feel the heat of Lucky’s arm against his own. Closer than is normal for two guys casually strolling down the street, which—

Connor knows they’re not just two guys walking down the street. Not at all. He can still feel the anticipation simmering under his skin even as the cold air cuts through his thin sweater.

He tries to focus on the fact that the streets are empty, except for the occasional car, and no one knows him here. Here, he’s just Connor. So he tries not to let the looming shadow of his Name dig its claws in.

The thing is… he has a guy—a really hot guy who definitely knows what he’s doing—who is willing to take Connor home. A guy who seems to be into his disheveled and awkward self for some reason. A guy who inexplicably makes Connor feel safe, thousands of miles away from home and away from everything and everyone he knows.

Connor should take this gift with both hands and say thank you like the good Canadian boy that he is.

He thinks about the visualization exercises and pictures himself taking off the Edmonton Oilers jersey with McDavid 97 on the back and the C on the front. He pictures himself handing it over to Australian customs along with the apple he had forgotten was in his bag.

Connor barely has time to even look at Lucky’s apartment before he’s crowded against the door. Connor sucks in a steadying breath.

Lucky looks up at him, his warm breath tickling Connor’s neck. “I’m sorry if I smell like beer; I know you don’t like beer.”

Connor makes an affronted noise. “I do so like beer. I just don’t like—”

Lucky huffs and cuts him off by slamming his lips on Connor’s. Connor lets out a little squeak of surprise before his body takes over. His eyes flutter shut as he takes in the warmth of Lucky’s soft lips.

It feels so foreign when Lucky slides his tongue over Connor’s bottom lip; the wet heat surprises him and makes him open his mouth instinctively. He’s rewarded as Lucky pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and nibbles on it slightly. Connor finds out he enjoys that as he bites back a groan.

Lucky’s hands move from the door behind Connor to rest on his hips, fingers applying gentle but firm pressure. His hands feel so warm Connor wonders if they would leave handprints for the world to see, like a brand.

Lucky makes a noise against his mouth that Connor can’t interpret. He hums a questioning sound and finds that it tickles a little. He finds out he likes that, too.

Lucky’s hands pull away, much to his dismay, only to grab Connor’s own hands and place them on his sides—Connor runs his hands down the firmness of his obliques and gives them an appreciative squeeze, earning him an approving sound as Lucky rests his hands on Connor’s chest.

Connor doesn’t know how long they just stay like that, kissing languidly as he slowly becomes more exploratory with his touches, sliding his hands over Lucky’s defined back. And Lucky returns the favor, running his hands over Connor’s chest—through the sweater material, it just feels like broad warm pressure—before reaching up to the nape of Connor’s neck and moving him the way he wants to deepen the kiss.

The wet, hot slide of their mouths feels so nice that Connor thinks maybe they could just stay doing this forever. But Lucky has other plans; he slides his hands under Connor’s sweater and hums appreciatively at what he finds. His hands travel up Connor’s chest; when he slides his hands directly over Connor’s nipples, Connor has to choke down a whine.

Connor’s hands move of their own accord, sliding down Lucky’s back and over his generous ass. His pressure is light, but it doesn’t stop Lucky from rocking forward and onto his tiptoes, stealing all the air from between their bodies. In doing so, he presses his hard dick right into Connor’s, the slide sending an electric shock through his body. They both moan at the same time.

Connor suddenly becomes acutely aware of how hard he is and the slight wet patch at the front of his boxers. Connor sucks in a breath through his nose. If he had known this was happening today, he would’ve jerked off before going to the pub. Hell—if he had even a second, he would’ve jerked off in the pub’s bathroom. Anything to take the edge off.

As it stands, Connor feels unable to get a hold of his restraint, like he’s reaching out to grab something just out of reach. It makes him feel underwater and suddenly too aware of all the sensations at once: the filthy slide of their mouths, Lucky’s thumbs rubbing over his nipples, the friction as Lucky grinds their clothed cocks together. It’s all too much as Connor feels his restraint fraying.

“Lucky,” Connor mumbles against his lips.

“Mmm,” he hums, leaning back a little.

This time, when Lucky slides his hands down Connor’s chest, he claws his hands, and his dull nails scrape over Connor’s nipples, drawing an unrestrained moan as he arches into Lucky.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive,” Lucky mumbles as his hands continue to travel south, as he recaptures Connor’s lips in a messy kiss.

His mind feels fragmented. Split between needing this to stop so he doesn’t come way too soon, ruining the whole thing, and needing to come so bad he thinks he might die. But he can’t figure out how to put that into words, so he just floats in the liminal space between the two.

He feels Lucky slide hook his fingers over the waistband of his jeans and boxers, and it takes him a second too long to figure out what’s happening as Lucky’s hand dips inside. It’s just the brush of a hand over his bare dick, but it’s more than he’s gotten in almost ten years, and Connor panics.

“Wait—no—” he blurts out, muffled by Lucky’s mouth. 

Connor grabs Lucky’s hand and yanks it out of his pants, but it’s too late. He squeezes his eyes shut as he fights the shudder that travels through his whole body as he comes, largely untouched, in his too-expensive jeans.

He tucks his chin to his chest, face flaring so hot he must be bright red. He takes a few breaths to steady himself before he opens his eyes and dares to look up at Lucky.

He immediately winces at what he sees. Connor feels like he actually might die and prays for the ground to swallow him whole.

Lucky’s jaw clicks, his expression one that Connor has never seen on his handsome face before. One of hurt and confusion. Connor swallows.

“Is this a gay panic thing? Because I hate to break it to you, we’d been rubbing cocks for like twenty minutes,” he says, voice low and even.

“What? No! No, it’s not—” Connor stutters, “That’s not—No.”

“Right.” Lucky raises his eyebrows; he clearly doesn’t believe him. 

Connor realizes he is still clutching Lucky’s wrist so tightly it must hurt; he lets it go completely. Lucky takes a few steps back, and Connor misses the heat of his body immediately. He feels the edges of panic closing in, so he just speaks.

“No, I promise. That’s not what’s happening. I’ve known since I was like ten that maybe—” His eyes dart around the room, and his eyes fixate on all the little trinkets around Lucky’s house—it’s kind of adorable. He takes a deep breath. Fuck it. “No. I’ve known since I was 10. I’ve just never… told anyone before. Or done anything. That was… That was great. I really liked it. You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m so—” He runs his hands down his face. “Trust me, that is not what’s wrong. God, I want to die right now.”

His eyes affix to the surfboard mounted above the couch, a point just over Lucky’s left shoulder. It’s suffocatingly silent for a moment as Lucky looks him over. 

“Wait,” Lucky says, his voice low and tight, “Did you just… come?”

Connor drops his head in his hands and straight-up whines.

“Oh my god,” Lucky whispers. “Holy shit.”

Connor wonders if it’s possible to just travel through the door like a ghost. Or maybe blink out of existence.

There’s a shuffling sound before gentle hands on his wrists pull them away from his face. “Woah, hey, Connor. No worries, yeah? It’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Easy for you to say,” he mumbles. Connor thinks about all the guys Lucky’s fucked before and wonders if any of them had ever come in their pants after being lightly grazed by a hand. Of course, he would be a failure at this, too.

“Baby,” Lucky’s voice is so gentle, “I’m serious, okay? You have nothing to be embarrassed about. That’s… Seriously, oh my fucking God, Connor, that is fucking hot.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, baby, it is.” He gently clasps Connor’s chin so he has to look at him and smiles softly. “Come on, maybe let’s take a break.”

“Oh.” Connor’s chest feels too tight. “Do you wanna stop? I’m sorry. I can go if you want. I’m sorry for ruining it for you.” He knows his voice sounds odd, but he’s too panicked to care.

“Stop? Who said anything about stopping?” Lucky chuckles. “Unless you want to stop, I am very much still very interested.” He directs Connor’s hand to the front of his jeans, where the hard outline of his cock twitches in Connor’s palm. “Trust me. Very. Interested. But I can wait for a second. Come on, lemme get us a drink.”

Lucky walks over to a bar cart and pours two whiskeys. Connor wonders if he should leave anyway, if he’s just being nice. Sure, he’s still hard, but does he really want Connor, the guy who came from a light breeze in his entryway? Connor thinks about all the guys he’s seen Lucky take home before, and he just knows he’s going to be the worst—or at least, the most disappointing. Maybe it would be less embarrassing for everyone if he left now.

Lucky walks over and leans against the kitchen counter opposite him and hands him the drink with a soft smile. 

Connor determines that he should probably stay, given he’s come once already, and Lucky hasn’t come at all. And that’s probably unfair.

“So,” Lucky says, “Earlier, you said that you’ve never told anyone you’re gay?” Connor shakes his head. “And you’ve never… done anything?”

Connor sighs. In for a penny, in for a pound, or whatever. “Yeah. That’s right.”

“Really? Never?” Lucky says, slightly incredulous.

“Well, there was like once or twice in juniors—high school, I mean, uh. Bro-jobs, or whatever, on, uh, school trips.” He shakes his head. “It just felt wrong ‘cause they weren’t gay, but I was. And it felt a little like I was taking advantage of it. So I stopped.”

Lucky snorts. “Well, sucking cock is pretty gay if you ask me.”

It pulls an unsuspecting laugh out of Connor. “I guess. I don’t know. That’s not what I meant—I guess—it was just different for me.” Connor shrugs and bites his lip. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I never did anything again after that.”

“Like… nothing?” Lucky asks, not unkindly.

“Yeah. Nothing.” Connor sighs. “I think you’re the first person I’ve kissed in like almost ten years. God, that’s so embarrassing to say out loud. You probably think I’m so fucking weird.”

Lucky reaches over and squeezes his arm. “Hey, I don’t think that’s embarrassing. Or weird. Different strokes, or whatever. It is what it is.”

Connor didn’t set out to have this conversation. Realistically, he never thought he would ever even have this conversation—not at least for another ten years. But something about the earnest way Lucky’s looking at him makes him want to say it. Like it’s suddenly something that’s clawing at his throat to get out.

“I just…” Connor pauses and worries at his lip again. “It’s different for me. I…” He takes a really deep breath and blows it out. “I work in the sports industry, and, unfortunately, being gay is still a pretty big deal in my line of work.”

“Shit,” Lucky nods. “That sucks.”

“I guess a little part of me always thought that if I didn’t say it out loud to anyone or do anything about it, then it was just something about me that was just for me to know. Something that other people don’t get to know about me. I guess in the process, I stopped really acknowledging it, even to myself. It’s weird. I’m not ashamed of it, but I also don’t want people to know. Which must mean I am ashamed of it, I guess. I don’t know.” Connor clears his throat to push through the tightness there. “I’ve never known another option. Like, I knew this was what I had to do from when I figured it out at 10. It’s like… if this is your reality, you might as well accept it and move on, you know?”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not painful, though. It still sucks. I’m sorry.” 

Connor shrugs as Lucky lets it hang in the air for a bit.

“Am I the first person you’ve told?” Lucky asks.

“Yeah.”

“Wow… that’s…” Lucky smiles. “Congratulations, Connor. That’s a big deal. Thank you for trusting me with that.”

Connor blows out a breath, and it comes out long and shaky. Despite that, his chest feels looser, like one of the invisible chains that wrap around his body loosened. “Yeah.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a bit as they sip their whiskeys, deep in thought. Connor takes the chance to look over Lucky in the bright kitchen lights. Connor finally determines that he has hazel eyes. They’re largely amber with flecks of green, and it makes him feel warm. It reminds him of the start of autumn and the beginning of the hockey season and the hope that comes with it.

The muscles in Lucky’s forearm ripples as he taps his fingers on the countertop to an unknown beat. It makes Connor think of the little hints of his body under the fitted black shirt and black pants. He knows from the way his shirt stretches when he reaches for a high shelf that Lucky has a broad, defined back. He’s seen enough of his arms and hands to fuel his fantasies for weeks. And what he’s seen of his ass and thighs makes him want to dig his fingers in, just to see what happens. Lucky just looks so handsome, beautiful, hot that it makes his head spin a little.

A flash of heat rolls over Connor as he remembers the feeling of the solid planes of Lucky’s body against his. Connor’s a professional athlete. He’s seen so many naked male bodies in peak physical form so many times and felt nothing that he sometimes questions whether he is actually into men. Of course, there’s always someone who would knock him away from that thought like an 18-wheeler truck. Either way, he doesn’t look in the locker room. Rarely even wants to.

This time, though, it’s Lucky. And he’s not a teammate. And he’s gay. And, for some inexplicable reason, he wants to fuck Connor—a thought that sends another wave of molten heat through his veins.

He shuffles on his feet and feels the uncomfortable wet patch in his pants and flushes. Something catches Lucky’s eye because he raises an eyebrow slightly and cocks his head. It’s a minuscule moment, but Connor catches it, and the way the air seems to shift.

Connor thinks about how he’s already here, everything out on the table. Connor thinks about how he might never get this opportunity again—at least not for another ten years—needs to make the most of it. Connor thinks about the weight of Lucky’s hard cock in his hand. Connor—

“So,” Connor finds himself saying, “Are we gonna fuck tonight or…?”

Lucky throws his head back and laughs. It exposes the long line of his neck, and—Connor doesn’t know if it’s the whiskey or some other form of intoxication, but he has a sudden overwhelming urge to bite it, lick it, kiss it.

So he does.

He closes the space between them in one big step and leans down to run his teeth along Lucky’s neck. He moans in response, a deep rumbling sound that tickles his lips. Connor licks it and savors the flavor of salty sweat and the aroma of heady musk. 

“Yeah, baby,” Lucky groans, his fingers finding purchase on Connor's hips and gripping firmly, “I’m going to make this so good for you.” He tilts his head and captures Connor’s lips in a heated kiss. 

This kiss is different to the one at the door. It’s more urgent, incessant, purposeful. It’s messy as their teeth clash and tongues slide against each other. Lucky bites down on Connor’s lip harder than before, and he moans. Connor sucks on Lucky’s tongue, earning a moan of his own, before letting go with a pop.

“What do you want, Connor?” Lucky murmurs against his lips.

“I want you to fuck me,” Connor blurts out, the words spilling out.

Lucky freezes for a split second, almost imperceptible, before shaking his head lightly. Connor feels the stab deep in his gut; the sting of rejection hits him by surprise, and it hurts—more than he thought it would. He tries to pull away.

Lucky shakes his head. “No, I just mean, I’m not gonna fuck you tonight.”

Connor furrows his brows, feeling confused, still trying to step away.

“Connor. Not on your first night. You’re not ready.” Lucky squeezes Connor’s hip. “Next time though…”

Connor freezes. “Next time? There’s a next time?” he hears himself say, voice small and quiet.

“Yeah, baby. If you’re game, there will be as many next times as you want before you leave. You’re here for a few more months, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, breathless.

Connor doesn’t know who closes the gap between them, their lips meeting in a heated kiss once again. Lucky guides him backward until he bumps up against the counter of the kitchen island again. He hears the empty whiskey glass clink as his body knocks it back a few inches.

“So, what are we gonna do then?” Connor asks nervously as Lucky kisses down his jaw and neck.

“Oh, there are plenty of ways I can make you feel good, baby, don’t you worry,” Lucky says against the neck, the puffs of air tickling him. 

“Oh,” Connor breathes.

He leans back. “Luckily,” he winks, beaming, “you’re in very good hands.”

It takes Connor a second to process the joke before a surprised giggle escapes his lips.

Lucky pushes his sweater up, exposing his stomach and chest. Lucky flicks a tongue over one nipple and a thumb over the other. Connor groans, his hands tightening on Lucky’s shirt.

“So sensitive,” Lucky laughs into his skin as he kisses his way down Connor’s front. “So pink. God, you’re so flushed, too. It goes all the way down to… I need to know if…”

Connor doesn’t have time to even process the way Lucky looks on his knees between his legs because Lucky is popping the buttons on his jeans and pulling his jeans and boxers down in one motion.

His dick bobs free, already achingly hard again. The swollen head glistens, wet with a mix of his come from before and the new beads of pre-come collecting at the tip. The air feels uncomfortably cold against him, and it makes him squirm. 

He’s not uncomfortable for long, though, because Lucky wraps one hand around the base of his dick and squeezes firmly before running a hot tongue up the shaft. Connor’s breath catches in his chest. 

He’s given no time to process the sensation before Lucky sucks the head into his mouth, bobbing once before sucking him all the way down with a salacious wink. Connor groans and is, for the first time this evening, happy that he’s come already because it is the only reason he doesn’t blow it from that alone.

Lucky moves, bobbing up and down, his hands resting on Connor’s hipbones, holding him still. It is impossibly hot and impossibly wet and impossibly tight. Connor doesn’t even know what sensation to focus on; the only thing he can think is fuck, that feels so good.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to get a handle on his ragged breathing.

He has nothing really to compare this to, but he doesn’t need to compare anything because he feels as though he is on fire, sweat prickling all over him as he focuses on not coming. He focuses on the tension and heat that settles in his gut. 

It’s so different than when he touches himself; it’s just so much more. More everything, everywhere. The sounds, the smells—he hasn’t even opened his eyes yet. He thinks that maybe he can’t open his eyes and see what this looks like from a real POV perspective because seeing it would ruin his life.

Connor likes to think that as a professional athlete, he has conditioned himself to have great control over his body. A theory that is being very much tested as moans and curses fall from his mouth without his input at all.

“God, fuck,” he rasps, his hoarse voice sounds insanely erotic. “Lucky…” Lucky swirls his tongue over the head as he moves himself up and down Connor’s dick. “Lachy… Fuck. Lachlan,” he moans.

Lucky hums—Connor feels it all the way up his spine—and pulls off with a pop. “Say it again.” His hand moves to lazily slide up and down his shaft.

“What?”

“My name. Say it again.” His voice sounds even more fucked than Connor’s; it makes his head spin.

“Lachlan,” he says softly.

Lucky smiles and makes a low noise of approval before sucking Connor back down, all while keeping his eyes pinned on Connor, who can’t look away.

“Oh fuck, Lachlan,” he says, and he’s rewarded with another groan. “You look so good. You feel so good. This is… ahh…”

His hands are gripping the kitchen counter so hard it hurts. The view of Lucky’s shiny red lips stretched over him is too much, his hold on his self-control close to faltering. 

He closes his eyes and lets his head hang back; he’s unable to bite down the keening sound that escapes when Lucky flicks his tongue along the frenulum. The symphony of sound in the room sounds so filthy Connor thinks he would be flushing even pinker if he could. But he knows he’s already flushed red from his face to his dick that’s disappearing into Lucky’s incredible mouth.

Connor thinks about Leo and what he would say if he saw this. He wonders if he would be disgusted. If he’d never talk to him off the ice again. If he’d request a trade. If he would lose his best friend. He thinks about what the people would say if they saw him like this—Cam, his parents, his teammates, his agent—

Lucky’s hand slides down Connor’s shaft to the root and traces the line between his balls that are wound up high and tight against his body. His dick throbs inside Lucky’s mouth, and he feels more than hears Lucky’s moan of appreciation.

He decides he shouldn't be thinking of anything at all. However, the decision is more or less taken out of his hands when Lucky presses a finger behind his balls with such incredible precision his knees almost buckle.

The movement causes him open his eyes, and he watches as he accidentally fucks into Lucky’s mouth. Lucky’s dark lashes are wet, and his hazel eyes glisten as they look up at Connor as he fights against a choke, eyes fluttering shut in concentration. Connor thinks he’s never going to forget this moment, the way this looks. Even if this is only a one-time thing, it’s worth it.

Lucky reached up to grab Connor’s hand and place it in his hair. Connor cards his fingers through the soft curls. Lucky rolls his eyes humorously before pulling off.

“Fuck my face, Connor,” he rasps.

“Oh… Oh, fuck,” Connor whispers, hands shaking slightly as they move to grip his hair.

Lucky waits, mouth open, as he reaches one hand between his own pants. Connor watches as Lucky wraps a hand around his own cock, and feels compelled to say something.

“No,” he says.

“No?” Lucky furrows his brow.

“No, don’t—I want to get you. After—”

“Oh,” Lucky breathes, “Fuck, yeah. Okay.”

Connor watches as Lucky gives himself a firm squeeze before pulling his hand out and placing it on his broad thigh. He looks up at Connor and smiles before opening his mouth again, tongue hanging out over his bottom teeth. Connor groans as his dick kicks, another bead of precome collecting at the tip. Lucky leans forward and licks it off lightly.

Connor swears before grabbing his dick in one hand and Lucky’s hair in the other before feeding his dick into Lucky’s awaiting mouth. The heat, and wetness, and tightness puts him on edge immediately as his hand clenches, pulling Lucky’s hair tighter. His moan vibrates against Connor’s dick, and he feels it resonate inside every bone in his body. The urge to come is suddenly close to overwhelming. 

He keeps his eyes open this time as he rocks into Lucky’s mouth experimentally, watching for any sign of discomfort. As if reading his mind, Lucky rolls his eyes and makes a brief movement with his hands. It surprises a chuckle out of Connor as he relents.

He brushes over Lucky’s lips reverently with the hand that was gripping the base of his dick before he moves it to cup the back of Lucky’s head as he starts to fuck deeper into his throat. With each thrust, he feels the control he barely had fray and unravel.

His pace quickens, hitting the back of Lucky’s throat on every thrust. Lucky places his hand back on Connor’s hip to steady himself as Connor fucks his face. The tension in his groin feels impossibly taut.

“Lachlan, fuck, you’re incredible,” he murmurs. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” 

Lucky hums and grips his hip tighter so Connor doesn’t even think about pulling out. Their eyes lock, Connor unable to look away as Lucky cups his aching balls in his hand, reaching behind to the spot, and presses his fingers deep, plunging Connor over the edge.

Connor moans his name as he spills down Lucky’s throat, the world going hazy as his balls tighten and throb. He thinks the only thing that keeps him upright is all the years of balancing on knives on ice.

He gently eases Lucky off his dick, realizing suddenly just how tightly he was clutching his hair. 

“Sorry, was that,” Connor says, his voice hoarse and soft, “Was that okay? Did I hurt you?”

Lucky laughs, shaking his head before tipping forward and burying his face into the crook of Connor’s thigh.

“Yeah, baby, you did so good. A total pro at getting your cock sucked.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Connor rolls his eyes, unable to contain his laughter too.

“Now, there’s an idea,” Lucky says.

“Yeah?” Connor says, voice suddenly small as a wave of heat rushes over him. His spent dick throbs valiantly in interest.

“Oh, yeah,” Lucky hums against his thigh, “Not today though.”

Connor reaches down and pulls Lucky up to stand, supporting his weight a little as he comes off his knees. He leans down and kisses him gently.

“Thank you,” he murmurs against his lips. He can taste the faint flavor of himself on his lips.

“Nah. Yeah, no worries, baby,” Lucky chuckles, “Any time.”

Connor’s body shudders at that thought, and he chooses to push it aside as he feels Lucky’s hard cock against his thigh.

“I want to take care of you. Can I?” he asks quietly.

Lucky hums and pushes a hand under Connor’s sweater, muttering, “Why are we still fucking wearing clothes? And to answer your question, fuck yeah. Come on.”

They fumble, Lucky guiding Connor, who’s walking backward, to the bedroom, their mouths clashing while they finally remove their clothes.

Connor feels his knees knock against the bed as Lucky gives him a slight push, sending him sprawling. His dick unceremoniously flops on his stomach, and Connor feels momentarily embarrassed before he looks up at Lucky.

His breath catches at the sight. Lucky is standing there, naked at the end of the bed, his heated gaze raking down Connor’s body as he strokes himself. Connor is transfixed by the movement. From where he is, Lucky’s dick looks thick, thicker than Connor’s own anyway, maybe a bit shorter. It tapers down to the tip, where the head, red-purple and mouth-wateringly wet, peeks out from the foreskin.

Connor always thought he would be nervous at this moment, unsure. But looking at Lucky, he feels calm, like the moment before his skate hits the fresh ice in pre-game. Every single cell in his body feels dialed into this moment, reaching out to feel Lucky’s skin against his.

His eyes follow the dark trail of hair, from the groomed patch at the base of his cock up to the mat of hair between his nipples. His eyes track the movement of Lucky’s toned arm as he works himself slowly, languidly. He bites his lip as his eyes trail down Lucky’s thick thighs, a carpet of dark hair over them. For some reason, Connor just wants to sink his teeth into the meat of his thigh.

When he finally meets Lucky’s eye, he feels like his soul is going to leave his body. The look is almost predatory, the way his gaze feels heavy, pinning him in place. His eyes are so dark now, his pupils swallowing the beautiful hazel, as his curly hair falls messily over his face.

“You like what you see,” Lucky says gruffly.

“Yeah,” Connor replies, breathless once again.

“Good.” He kneels on the bed, and Connor slides back further onto the bed. “Me too.”

Lucky knee-walks his way up the bed, his thick thighs bracketing Connor’s legs, skin blazingly hot. Connor can’t help but scramble back until his head hits the pillow.

Connor swallows hard when Lucky finally towers over him. The hand not stroking his cock is pressed against the pillow right next to Connor’s head. The view is intoxicating. Connor’s hands twitch at his sides.

“Can I touch you?” he whispers.

Lucky moans and nods, biting his lip.

Connor reaches up and runs his hands over Lucky’s cheek. Lucky’s eyes flutter closed as he leans into it. Connor’s thumbs brush over his thick eyelashes, and then he pulls his bottom lip out from between his teeth. Lucky’s mouth remains slightly parted as Connor slides his hands down his neck, through the thick hair at his chest, down the hard planes of his stomach, and onto his thighs. 

Connor digs his fingers in, earning him a small hiss, and pulls Lucky’s thighs forward so he can sit comfortably on Connor’s stomach. He slides his hands up the back of his thighs, savoring the contrasting rough and soft of his thick leg hair. He takes a moment to knead Lucky’s ample glutes before taking one hand to trace the thick groomed hair at his pelvis.

Lucky’s hard cock sits heavy on Connor’s stomach, the pre-come smearing a little against Connor’s flushed red skin. Lucky wiggles at the light touch, cock kicking, as Connor runs his fingers down the soft velvety skin of the shaft, tracing the snaking veins. He is so transfixed by it, how soft it is, how much it responds to his touch, how hot all of this is—

“Please,” he hears Lucky whisper, a hint of a whine.

Connor blinks and looks up at Lucky, who looks like he’s in a tremendous amount of pain—although Connor knows that’s not what it is. His jaw is clenched, and he’s breathing hard and raggedly.

“Sorry, I just—Sorry,” Connor says softly.

He takes a deep breath before wrapping his hand around the shaft of Lucky’s cock, earning him a deep moan. He pumps his hand experimentally, noting the difference in how it feels in his hand compared to his own dick, before applying more pressure. When Connor slides his hand up and down again, he runs his thumb lightly against the underside of the tip.

“Connor,” Lucky moans above him, his head dropping a little. His curly hair brushes against Connor’s cheek.

He hums, drawing up the play in his head as he continues to repeat the motion. Lucky’s leaking so much that it doesn’t take long before his hand is wet enough to touch the sensitive head without it being uncomfortable—he hopes at least. He alternates his strokes between one that goes from the root to the tip and one that squeezes the head with a slight twist—the way he knows feels good.

“Fuuuuck,” Lucky breathes. His arm is starting to shake a little from where it is next to Connor’s head. Connor turns his head slightly and presses a light kiss to Lucky’s wrist. “Baby, that’s so fucking good.”

Connor smiles and feels his chest puff a little, proud like when a new drill finally clicks. He looks up at Lucky’s face, now flushed with pleasure. He watches as he applies more pressure, watching the way Lucky’s eyes roll behind the closed lids and lips hang open. 

“Yeah, fuck, just like that,” Lucky says. His hand comes up from where it was resting on Connor’s thigh and grabs onto his shoulder, fingers digging in. It hurts, but Connor doesn’t mind.

Connor continues to stroke at an even pace, eyes gliding over Lucky’s face and body, taking it all in. Lucky continues to drop little praises between them, mixed with his moans and curses. Connor feels like he could listen to the way Lucky says his name forever.

It’s not long before Connor notices the way Lucky’s hips start hitching with his strokes and speeds up his hand. He loosens his grip slightly so Lucky can fuck into his hand in time with his strokes. 

“Lachlan,” Connor’s voice sounds hoarse and fucked-out, even to his own ears, “Open your eyes. I want to watch you come.”

Lucky moans and his eyes open, gaze unfocused. Connor is transfixed by his face: the square jawline and full cheeks flushed with pleasure, the way his eyelashes flutter as he struggles to keep his eyes open, the shape of his mouth as he moans Connor’s name over and over.

Connor feels Lucky’s cock get impossibly harder in his hand as his pace becomes more erratic. Connor sees the moment before he comes in his eyes as they roll back, his eyes slamming shut. Connor feels the momentary desperation before the relief in the way Lucky’s fingers clench into the pillow beside his head and into the meat of his shoulder.

He feels the first pulse in the kick of Lucky’s cock in his hand before the cum hits his chest, his name on Lucky’s lips as he comes. He strokes Lucky through his orgasm in even pulls. He feels breathless and in awe and reaches up with his lips to pull Lucky into a deep kiss.

When they pull away, a while after the last pulse Connor feels, Connor is smiling wide. Lucky rolls off him and pants in the bed next to him, his arm draped over his eyes as he catches his breath. Connor stays smiling like an idiot at the ceiling.

“Holy fuck,” Lucky murmurs against his elbow next to him.

Connor hums. “Yeah.”

“No, seriously. Holy fuck.” Lucky knocks his leg against Connor’s. “You’re seriously telling me you’ve never done that before?”

Connor lets his head drop to the side to look at him. “No?”

Lucky peaks an eye out and looks at him. “What are you, some kind of prodigy? What the fuck?”

“Uh…”

“Did you hack my brain? How—I’m serious, Connor. I can’t believe that’s the first handjob you’ve ever given. I think I might’ve died and fucking transcended. Fuck,” he breathes.

“Um… Thanks?” Connor says, unsure, “I guess I’ve spent a lot of time jerking off, so…”

Lucky knocks a knee against him again, harder this time. “Shut the fuck up.”

Connor laughs.

Lucky turns in the bed to face him and smiles dopily. “Do you want me to get you again?”

“Huh?”

Lucky gestures to Connor’s dick, hard and curved up against his stomach.

“Oh! I didn’t even—No, I’m okay. I think I might be fully dry.”

Lucky laughs. “Yeah, okay.” He’s silent for a second. “Hey, Connor?”

“Mmm?”

“Stay, yeah?” he says, voice quiet. 

“Okay,” Connor replies softly.

“You can stay there; I’ll grab you a towel to clean up.”

“Hmm?”

“Your chest?”

“Oh!” he huffs and looks down at the mess on his chest. He runs a finger through the mess and pops it in his mouth, the flavor salty and tangy on his tongue. “Hmm!”

Lucky groans beside him, “Oh my god! What the fuck am I gonna do with you? You’re a fucking menace.”

“What?” Connor asks, confused.

Lucky rolls his eyes and climbs off the bed. “I can’t believe you genuinely don’t know what you do to people, do you? Fuck.”

Connor shrugs, not really following but too content to care.

They wake up facing each other the next morning, the sliver of light streaming in through the curtains illuminating their faces. Their bodies are pressed in close. Close enough that Connor feels Lucky’s morning boner pressing into his own.

Through sleepy blinks, they kiss for a long time, slow and heated, their bodies sliding against each other. Lucky hooks a strong thigh over Connor’s and pulls them even closer together, their hard dicks sliding against each other perfectly.

They moan into each other’s mouths, kissing messily as the sensations build. Eventually, Lucky reaches down and wraps a hand around both of them, rocking against each other. The air in the room feels thick with their pants and moans.

Each slide of Lucky’s cock against Connor’s sends sparks up his spine; the way their heads rub together is unlike anything Connor’s ever felt before. The pressure of Lucky’s hand is light, and it shouldn’t be enough to get him to the edge, but it does faster than he expects.

“Lachlan, I’m gonna come,” he whispers, his voice thick with sleep and arousal.

“Mmm, me too,” Lucky moans.

When Connor comes, it’s nothing like the night before. It’s slow and sensual, waves of heat and pleasure rolling through him like molasses. Lucky follows not long after, covering them both in sticky heat.

Lucky captures Connor’s lips again, resuming their lazy kiss for a little while longer until the mess between them gets to be uncomfortable.

Lucky reaches up with his hand and licks it clean—it unbelievably makes a molten wave of heat roll through Connor’s body again—before he reaches up to cup Connor’s cheek.

“You didn’t panic and run away,” Lucky says evenly, without judgment and maybe even with a sigh of appreciation and wonder.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t,” Connor smiles. “Why? Did you expect me to?”

Lucky shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess.” He pauses and sighs. “It happens. A lot of guys will have the post-nut clarity, or whatever, and make it clear that they regret what happened. They’ll try to make it real clear they’re “straight” which…” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I didn’t know you wouldn’t do the same. I mean, I hoped you wouldn’t. But…” He trails off and shrugs.

It stings more than Connor expects, and he feels his full-body wince. “Good thing I’m gay then, eh?” he says. 

He didn’t know he was going to say that when he opened his mouth to respond, but he feels with amazing—post-nut—clarity that he is glad he did.

Lucky smiles and it's the smile that makes Connor feel warm and tingly from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. It’s a different heat than before. He imagines it’s the type of heat that sunflowers chase when they supposedly turn to follow the sun.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Lucky says.

“Me too.” Connor leans in and plants a soft kiss on Lucky’s lips.

Lucky hums, content. “Come on. Let’s shower, and then I can make us breakfast.”

Later, when he’s sat at the kitchen island watching Lucky talk animatedly about the merit of sharks of all things while making an incredibly delicious smelling omelet, Connor is struck by the normality of the whole thing.

You could replace Connor with any single person, and the world would keep spinning. Why would Connor be any different?

He thinks about checking his phone earlier. He had opened it, heart pounding, holding his breath while he towel dried his hair—he took the opportunity while Lucky was drying his hair in the bathroom with an absolutely wild-looking contraption—”It’s called a diffuser, Connor”.

So, he was hiding, essentially, crouched on Lucky’s bedroom floor where Lucky had plugged his phone in before bed, knuckles white around his phone as he turned the screen on.

It was underwhelming, really. The world did not burn down. It wasn’t front-page news on ESPN or Deadspin or Twitter or something. There wasn’t some sort of international beacon that went out screaming: “Connor McDavid is Gay” or “Connor McDavid has Gay Sex; what is next for the Edmonton Oilers Captain”. There were no “you’re fired” texts from Ken or Bettman. There were no “you’re disgusting, and I hate you” texts from all the people in his life who loved him.

There were only the normal texts. Photos from Cam of some Canada Geese. A text from his mum asking how he was doing. The most notable thing on his phone was a recent text from Leo, apologizing for Nashville—an apology Connor didn’t feel like he was owed, but Leo wanted to let him know he was sorry anyway. 

“Hey, just wanted to say sorry for how I was in Nashville. I don’t want you to think I meant it,” he had said. “You’re one of the best people I know. I was worried and hurt. So I’m sorry. I hope you’re having a good time in Australia. You haven’t sent me any pictures, asshole.”

“Isn’t it like 3 am in Germany right now? Shouldn’t you be getting your beauty sleep?” Connor had texted back.

Leon had sent back his typical response—an eye roll emoji—and Connor had smiled and turned off his phone.

So, Connor watches Lucky move at the stove, easy and carefree. And, for the first time in a long time, Connor feels a little bit of that ease in his chest. Like there is just a little bit more room to breathe. Like there is an ever so slightly less weight on his shoulders.

For the first time since he was 10, Connor considered that maybe he could be wrong. That maybe Connor McDavid could get to have something like this. Something easy—private but easy. Connor considers that maybe this is something he might want to share with a select few people when he’s ready. Not the people who would make it into a Connor McDavid-97-Captain issue. But people who deserve to see Connor a little more clearly.

But for now, he’s just content to watch as Lucky tries—and fails—to flip the omelet in the air like a pancake.

“So, how do you feel about scrambled eggs?” Lucky asks, smile broad and eyes shining.

“Good,” Connor laughs. “I feel good about scrambled eggs.”

“Fuck yeah!” Lucky laughs.

“Fuck yeah,” Connor says softly.

Masterlist | (My requests are currently closed.) | AO3

[seedlessmuffins]

.

[keyshui]

where’d all the time go? a mcmattdrai fanfiction by keyshui

[wyattjohnston]

with the posting of the masterlist, the summer fic exchange 2k24 has come to an end! 33 fics written by 31 people. i am eternally grateful that these exchanges are still going strong and that people are having fun with it!

please read all the fics below, even if it's a player you don't normally read for. a lot of work has gone into these fics and they all deserve your time. make sure to reblog and leave comments when you've read it!

please respect all warnings at the beginning of fics. if a fic has been marked as smut or 18+ and you are younger than, do the right thing and do not read it.

i'm still unsure if i'm running a winter exchange or if i'm going to maybe reconsider the timing, but please come back and feel free to ask questions around november/december if i haven't said anything!

the summer fic exchange 2k24 masterlist

Boston Bruins

Jeremy Swayman

Indoor Cat by @nhl-stories for @ bqstqnbruin

Carolina Hurricanes

Andrei Svechnikov

i’ve been yours since you stepped through the door tonight by @writingonleaves for @ callsign-denmark

Third Time's the Charm by @typical-simplelove for @ kurlyteuvo

Frederik Andersen

But Baby, It Feels Like Love by @callsign-denmark for @ mp0625

Chicago Hawks

Teuvo Teravainen

I Think I Dreamed You Into Life by @kurlyteuvo for @ lila-rose

Colorado Avalanche

Nathan MacKinnon

hide the sun by @ohmyeyesmyeyes for @ wyattjohnston

Edmonton Oilers

Connor McDavid

i'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet by @offside-the-lines for @ hiding-from-reality-56

Leon Draisaitl

… but you're going to by @senditcolton for @ thewintersoldierdisaster

Blue Hair and Pronouns by @hiding-from-reality-56 for @ nhl-stories

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

always attract by @dunnerlars for @ sc0tters

truth or dare by @boqvistsbabe for @ ohmyeyesmyeyes

Montreal Canadiens

Cole Caufield

four weddings and a funeral by @thewintersoldierdisaster for @ prettytoxicrevolver

Juraj Slafkovsky

Summer Vacation by @prettytoxicrevolver for @ lam-ila

New Jersey Devils

Dawson Mercer

Baseball and Love by @lam-ila for @ hischier-papaya

Jack Hughes

CHASING YES by @puckology101 for @ tonsypep

Nico Hischier

home is just another word for you by @fallinallincurls for @ puckology101

felt like magic by @laurenairay for @ selfindulgentpoorlywritten

good luck, babe by @nol-pat for @ fallinallincurls

turbulent by @wyattjohnston for @ dunnerlars

walked in and dream came trued it for ya by @gravestrain for @ nol-pat

New York Islanders

Mat Barzal

First Time Feeling by @huuuuughes for @ ahockeywrites

truth or dare by @dunnerlars for @ writingonleaves

Matt Martin

I can't help it if I like it by @laurenairay for @ comphy-and-cozy

New York Rangers

Alexis Lafreniere

Romance in The Hamptons by @lifeofpriya for @ wildrangers

Matt Rempe

MEDICINE by @lila-rose for @ 2 manytabsopen

Pittsburgh Penguins

Anthony Beauvillier

one night standards by @comphy-and-cozy for @ offsidethelines

Tattoos of You by @bqstqnbruin for @ senditcolton

Ryan Graves

The First Time by @selfindulgentpoorlywritten for @ gravestrain

Seattle Kraken

Philipp Grubauer

Pfirsich by @mp0625 for @ huuuuughes

Toronto Maple Leafs

Joseph Woll

sunset by @hischier-papaya for @ lifeofpriya

William Nylander

I Wish You Would by @wildrangers for @ typical-simplelove

Vancouver Canucks

Quinn Hughes

somehow still stuck on you by @matthewtkachuk for @ boqvistsbabe

walkin' with his head down, i'm the one he's walking to by @tonyspep for @ laurenairay

if the person you wrote for hasn’t read and reblogged your fic, please tell me.

i only tag the person who wrote the fic as there are limited tags.

[lagerloutfic]

I am gripped by fear and excitement before the oily-bois hit the ice this weekend. Whatever happens in the SCF, know I loved every second of the journey.

Below is a list of everything I wrote about them this year and I can't thank hockey enough for keeping the horrors at bay. Just for a little bit.

better put that business to bed | E | 2.8k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid Blow jobs, Intercural Sex, PWP, crawl into each others skin situationship type vibe!

just the touch of your hand | E | 3.4k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid Spanking, under negotiated kink, the McDepression fic

go ahead and try a little crazy on me | E | 4k | Leon Draisaitl/Arturs Silovs Winner's Room, Fluff and Smut, Goalie fucking but he's adorable as hell!

say it, say it again | E | 4.1k | Leon Draisaitl/ConnorMcDavid Blow jobs and fingering, tooth rotting fluff, soft dick fic literally and figuratively

but close ain't close enough | E | 6.3k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid Pregnancy Kink, Feminization, WAGs are involved and I love them even MORE than the boys

got that dog in him | E | 7.1k | Leon Draisaitl & Connor McDavid (kind of) Bodyswap, accidental voyeurism, the McDog fic.

[stars1997]

Masterlist

Who I wright for:

feel free to send in requests :)

(Will also take request for anyone who may not be on this list)

* (smut)

Jack Hughes

Left Alone *

Quinn Hughes

Alone With You *

Fantasies *

*

Luke Hughes

Touchy *

Trevor Zegras

Jamie Drysdale

Jeremy Swayman

Lover Boy series (masterlist)

I like It *

Nico Hischier

Happy Anniversary Love *

Honeymooners *

Dawson Mercer

Cole Caufield

Matt rempe

the things you do to me *

Gaming *

taking care of you

Connor McDavid

Mat Barzel

Dinner date *

Seth Jarvis

Alex Lyon

Nights like these*

[kairos44]

we're only human (1/?) Pairing: Leon Draisaitl/Matthew Tkachuk/Connor McDavid Rating: E Tags: Soulmates, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, complicated relationships, established McDrai, Getting Together, smut, happy ending Summary Something is wrong with Matthew’s soulmark. It keeps lighting up when he’s around Connor McDavid and Leon Draisaitl, who are not only his assigned division rivals but also already soulbonded to each other. Matthew decides that having a broken mark won’t stop him from being the best hockey player he can be nor from finding love.

Read on AO3

[nuchester]

Intro post <3

Here’s a little introduction post for those who are curious!

me!

- my name is chloe

- I’m a big fan of metal (mostly every subgenre)

- I’m big on KoЯn, SOAD, Metallica, Oingo Boingo, Slipknot, Green Day, DMSOB and Megadeth

- I’m Danish-Canadian 🇩🇰 🇨🇦

the blog!

- what I plan on doing:

- writing fanfics

- doing headcannons

- posting pictures

- answering asks

fanfics / hc’s!

- who I’ll write for:

- SOAD: all members

- KoЯn: Jon Davis, Munky, Head

- Metallica: all members

- Oingo Boingo: Danny Elfman

- Slipknot: Corey Taylor, Joey Jordison, Mick Thomson

- DMSOB: Daron Malakian, John Dolmayan

- Megadeth: Dave Mustaine, David Ellefson

- Green day: Billie Joe, (maybe?) Mike Dirnt

- Other: horror movie characters (mostly antagonists), Connor McDavid, Jude Bellingham, Cristiano Ronaldo

**this list will expand!**

- what I’ll write:

- smut

- fluff

- angst

- open to literally any suggestions!

- my limits:

- anything illegal

- scat, piss, vomit

- noncon, cnc, things like that

- age play (age gaps are alright)

That’s it!

My asks are open in case there’s any questions!

[offside-the-lines]

masterlist - imagines

Legend: 🌶️ Sexual content (mature rating, not explicit). 🔞 Smut (18+). MY SAFE SEX RESOURCE. 🗳️ Requested. | 📁 Archived. 🎨 Original character. ❤️‍🔥 Favorite piece.

⚠️ Always check content warnings before reading. ⚠️

Mat Barzal You're All I Need (4.4k) 📁🎄🌶️ Underneath the Tree (2k) 📁🎄

Anthony Beauvillier ❤️‍🔥 tell me who i run to (if not you) (44.5k) 🌶️ 🎨

JT Compher Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow (2.9k) 📁🎄

Ryan Graves Is it Love, Actually? (1.5k) 🗳️🎨

Nico Hischier Right Where We Left Off (2.6k) 🎨 ❤️‍🔥 Give my all to you (5.8k) 🎨

Tyson Jost Last Christmas (6.2k) 📁🎄

Nathan Mackinnon Am I Ready? (To Be Loved) (8k) 🗳️🎨

Cale Makar Only You Can Decide (3.4k) 🗳️🎨

Connor McDavid ❤️‍🔥 i'm half-doomed & you're semi-sweet (11.3k) 🔞 🎨

Matthew Tkachuk Tie me down, your hands like butter (3k) 🔞

Matt Martin Give Us Another Shot (3.6k) 📁❤️‍

requests: closed but please refer to this first

[tapedsleeves]

2023 hrpf fic roundup

VGK / 6167 (mark stone / max pacioretty):

won't run away (but I'll have to take it slow) - the 6167 max thinks mark might be ace fic (rated T) passes too quick to see me - max has a migraine 5x drabble I want strings attached (prequel to our secret's worth its weight in gold published in 2022) - wherein mark buys the ring he hides from max in secret's worth i'd rather drown - after max is traded, he invites his family to visit Mark's house for christmas. but i can't see behind the sun - plane flirting triple drabble tripped and fell on you - max and mark met & hooked up as teenagers wear you like a stitch - mark has temporary amnesia or a gentle kiss - a vague pirate au double drabble

VGK / 981 (Jack Eichel / Jonathan Marchessault):

a wall to bring us closer - jonathan sees the photo of the way jack is looking at him later & decides to do something about it. from a shudder to a shockwave - jack falls in love with vegas, hockey, and jonathan marchessault you don't need to wonder, you're doing fine - Jack gets an idea for the post game award no reason to put up a fight - jack and marchy at stevie's wedding just what i needed - jack makes a kissing bet to get Marchy the Conn Smythe your whole life is a head (I hope we get to see it) - marchy has a crisis about being older than jack

Misc:

VGK: Chandler Stephenson / Shane Hnidy / Neon in the nighttime - parade hookups :)

VGK: Nic Roy / Zach Whitecloud / In all of my wildest dreams (they just ended with you and me) - bubble musing triple drabble

VGK: Nic Roy / Zach Whitecloud / i'll set you up against the stars - Nic wears lingerie

Canes: andrei svechnikov / jordan martinook / teach me to breathe (break me in half) - babygirl andrei :)

NJD: Nico Hischier / Jack Hughes / it's our anthem - first kiss double drabble

Kraken: Will Borgen / Carson Soucy / well and remix of and well from Will's POV

Kraken: Will Borgen / Carson Soucy / go hunt for honey - carson shares chocolate with will

Jets/VGK: Connor Hellebuyck/Laurent Brossoit / Message Pending / connor attempts to invite laurent to his house for a visit.

Jets/VGK: Connor Hellebuyck/Laurent Brossoit / but my body's in the lead - smut set after the Jets lose in round one of the 23 scp

Panthers: Matthew Tkachuk / Aleksander Barkov / Leon Draisaitl / fracture me - quick and dirty porn to make sure that dom!sasha is taking care of Matthew properly.

Panthers: Matthew Tkachuk / Aleksander Barkov / Leon Draisaitl / full time problem - leon calls sasha to set up matthew

Leafs: Kyle Dubas / Sheldon Keefe / ache it 'til you make it - sheldon gets stuck in playoff time loops

Leafs: Kyle Dubas / Sheldon Keefe / checking it twice - sheldon makes sure to write kissing on Kyle's to do list for tomorrow.

Leafs: Kyle Dubas / Sheldon Keefe / sand inside that hourglass (WIP) - Sheldon's wife used to peg him, Kyle offers to scratch the itch.

Avs: Nathan Mackinnon / Jonathan Drouin / just here to become the best yet (i'm just here for the psych assessment) - Jo finds a way to make Nate feel better after their back to back shut out losses

Oilers / VGK: Jack Eichel / Connor McDavid / or stone unturned - 5 times connor touched jack eichel

[ao3feed-hockey]

where’d all the time go?

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/LlFUD61

by keyshui

“Leon wants to cut his ears off. He’s never wished more to be completely deaf and perfectly unaware than nowbefore. Oblivion would be a blessing at a time like this.

  He has, unfortunately, two perfectly functional ears, and is extremely aware of the noises being made behind the wall between his and Connor’s bedroom.”

 or, Matthew and Connor have a tradition of hooking up during Gary’s summer training. Leon wants nothing to do with it.

Words: 9331, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Men's Hockey RPF

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Matthew Tkachuk, Leon Draisaitl, Connor McDavid, Mitch Marner

Relationships: Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid/Matthew Tkachuk, Connor McDavid/Matthew Tkachuk

Additional Tags: Smut, Light Dom/sub, Accidental Voyeurism, Bad BDSM Etiquette, it’s lighthearted though, Mutual Pining, all three of them are stupid, Comedy, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Rivals With Benefits, Unexpected Kink, what happens at gary’s stays at gary’s, Time as a Motif, Porn With Plot, Song: Where’d All The Time Go (Dr. Dog), Submissive Matthew Tkachuk

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/LlFUD61

[comphy-and-cozy]

Hello! I’m your summer fic exchange writer. :)

I need to ask just a few questions before I start writing, so I can get a good idea on what you’d like exactly for your fic.

• Would you like your fic to be Reader Insert or OC?

• What pronouns would you prefer me to use while writing your fic. [Mainly if you want an OC fic.]

• I was told you’d like to receive a fic with fluff and smut. [No hurt/comfort, angst - unresolved] Do you have any specific plot/storyline you’d like me to follow for your fic?

• Any specific songs you’re interested in to go along with the fic? [This could determine the mood of the fic and give me more of an idea for it! If you want to skip this question just put N/A]

• Please correct me if I’m wrong or if I missed some players. The players you’d like to read for are JT Compher, Andrei Svechnikov, Tyson Jost, Brady Skjei, Matt Martin, Mikko Rantanen, Adrian Kempe. Connor McDavid, Vince Dunn, Ross Colton, Tyler Bertuzzi. Do you have a preference for one of these players? [I’m completely fine with writing for any of these players.]

• Any additional information I should know about?

I can’t wait to start writing. I look forward to future interactions/updates.

Ahhh hi!!! Putting my answers below a cut :)

Would you like your fic to be Reader Insert or OC? / What pronouns would you prefer me to use

I’m good with either - whatever you are most comfortable with and feel fits best for the story. I’d prefer she/her pronouns but would be okay with gender neutral as well.

Do you have any specific plot/storyline you’d like me to follow for your fic?

No specific plot! I’m good with established relationship or not - up to you.

Some tropes I generally enjoy: friends to lovers, fwb to lovers, exes to lovers, sharing a bed, roommates, grumpy/sunshine, forbidden (best friend’s brother/sister, brother’s best friend, etc)… basically any of the cheesy tropes I’m in for!

Any specific songs you’re interested in to go along with the fic?

I don’t have anything specific in mind but I know songs can really help me when I’m writing, so here are a few with varying vibes if any of them speak to you:

Summer Jam - Jake Owen & Florida Georgia Line

When You’re Ready - Shawn Mendes

Crush - Dave Matthews Band

Better Together - Luke Combs

Heartbeats - Childish Gambino

When Did You Fall - Chris Rice

Coming Home - Leon Bridges

Late to the Party - Kacey Musgraves

And when in doubt, John Mayer sings the music of my soul (so sorry Taylor) so JM can be included any time, any way, anywhere if desired.

Would you like your fic to be Reader Insert or OC?

I’d like to revise and remove Ross and Vince from the list, and as far as preferences go my favorite guys are JT, Andrei, and Brady - but am completely okay with any of them! Could def go with something spicy for Matt or Mikko too 🤓

Any additional information I should know about?

I’d prefer to not include anything pregnancy related, but other than that I’m open to pretty much anything!

If you need or want to include a side character/friend (not romantic), you can have pretty much any Red Wing - but again don’t feel obligated to include this!

As you can hopefully tell I am very flexible! Please feel free to ask if anything else comes up. Super excited to read what you put together!!! 🥰🩷

[hiding-from-reality-56]

hello friend!!! this is your summer fic exchange writer! i'm really excited to get to work on this!!!!

i wanted to double check on pairing preferences. we are doing a male OC, right? from your list i am looking at connor mcdavid or leon draisaitl; out of the two do you have a preference? do you have any feelings about a throuple situation?

of the types you selected (fluff, smut, angst - happy ending, AU), do you have a leaning of what you’d prefer? if it's AU, are there any particular AUs that speak to you?

what are your favorite trope(s) to read? alternatively, any you prefer not to read or any triggers I should avoid?

this may be a little cheating, so you are welcome to ignore this question, but i wanted to get a vibe for what you like to read. what are some of your favorite fics that you haven't been able to stop thinking about?

if you were to put together a couple of songs that you feel really speak to you right now, what would they be? (3-5 songs is fine!)

do you have any preference for if this is a summer/off-season fic?

sorry for this really long ask!!! can’t wait to get started!

-- ✍🏻😎

Yes to the male OC - bonus points if you make him a short king, lmao (I’m a bit of a sucker for some size difference)! I don’t really have a preference - a throuple situation could be fun to explore!! Definitely into it if you felt like writing it!

I think smut would be fun just because I’ve been reading so much fluff and angst recently! If you wanted an AU, I’ve been enjoying the Biological Dominant/Submissive trope, but non-AU fics are equally yummy!

I like requited love and mutual pining a lot! Something about characters being equally down bad for each other is so delicious! I’m not a huge fan of poor communication because it can get a little repetitive, and angst is too sad for me rn, but other than that I’m down for most things! I’m not a fan of horror or non-human characters,,, I’d prefer no rape/non or dubcon, definitely a hard no on watersports or bodily fluid play! No age regression, petplay, feminization, or degradation please! Bondage is a fun thing to play with, if you were looking for ideas on what to include in any smut (works with or without Bio D/S)!

I have too many, and two of them are well over 100k words ����

I’m on my Eurovision shit rn,,, I’m loving Pedestal by Aiko, Always on the Run by ISAAK, The Code by Nemo, Teresa & Maria by alyona alyona & Jerry Heil, and Jako by Ladaniva (sadly they probably aren’t very helpful in terms of fic inspot

I do not have a preference about whether it’s during the hockey season or not!

No worries! Thanks for asking!!! Hope this helps! Feel free to reach out with any more questions you may have!