nice save!

Hi! I'm Masha/Puppy (she/her, but gender is a social construct and I'm just a little puppygirl), I'm a hockey fan from Eastern Europe (now living in Canada!) looking for other friends who are equally obsessed with hockey and being gay.

Current fav ships/players:

7181 (Mack × Ben Kindel)

8781 (Ben Kindel × Sidney Crosby)

WillMack

Samisa

ChernyLuca

ChernyBrini

ChernySamisa

Cherny × literally anyone

Cherny

Bedmint

Beckett Senecke

Did I mention Igor Chernyshov

SidGeno

My main teams: 🦈 Sharks 🐧 Penguins

Boundaries: No kink shaming here, these just aren't my thing: Feet, Incest, Non-consensual content, Knife play

Everything else is usually fair game but kinda depends on the vibe. :)

My inbox is always open for gay hockey thoughts, ship talk, headcanons, funnies, and anything else u can think of 💖

I accidentally fell asleep so this is a little late lol

Connor doesn’t know what’s wrong with him until he’s already halfway to the Bruins’ locker room after the game, still in half his gear, skin crawling and pulse hammering like he’s about to throw up or pass out or both.

He’s known Fraser for years and Fraser is the one person who always feels safe. Sweet. Soft-spoken. The kind of guy who still looks a little surprised when people swear around him. Connor’s always thought of him that way: younger alpha, only a couple of ruts under his belt, still figuring everything out. Innocent, almost?

Which is why Connor doesn’t even knock. He just shoves the door open, finds Fraser alone by his stall, and blurts, “Dude, I think I might be dying.”

Fraser looks up, eyes going wide.

Connor’s talking too fast. “I’m burning up. Nauseous. My skin feels too tight and I’m—fuck, I’m so anxious for no reason and I can’t stop shaking and everything hurts and I don’t—”

Fraser’s nostrils flare. He goes very still.

“I can smell your slick from here,” he says, quiet.

Connor blinks. “My what.”

Fraser’s ears are pink. He still looks like the same soft-spoken kid Connor’s known forever, but his voice is careful. “Connor… are you like... an omega?”

The words land like a slap. Connor stares. The heat under his skin spikes, and it's sharp and wet and humiliating, and something low in his gut clenches hard enough that he has to brace a hand on the wall.

“Oh,” he says. Then, smaller: “Oh fuck.”

Fraser stands. Doesn’t crowd him. Just steps close enough that Connor can smell him, an alpha, who smells clean and safe, so the anxiety eases a fraction even as the rest of it gets worse.

“If you're an omega,” Fraser says, almost wonderingly. “You’re in heat.”

Connor’s laugh comes out broken. “I didn’t— I thought I was just sick. Or stressed. Or—” He cuts himself off when another wave hits, slick sliding down the inside of his thigh, and the sound he makes is mortifying.

Fraser’s hands hover, then settle carefully on Connor’s shoulders. “Hey. Breathe. I’ve got you.”

Connor looks at him, really looks, and sees the same Fraser he’s always known. Soft mouth. Concerned eyes. The faint flush of a younger alpha who’s only been through this a couple of times himself. It should feel terrifying. Instead it feels like the only solid thing in the room.

“I need—” Connor’s voice cracks. He doesn’t even know how to finish the sentence.

Fraser swallows. “I can help. If you want me to. Only if you want.”

Connor surges forward and kisses him like he’s drowning.

They don’t make it far, but they do make it to Fraser’s stall. Connor’s half-stripped gear shoved aside. Fraser ends up on his back on the bench propped up on his elbows with Connor straddling him, who's still somehow the one in charge even as slick soaks through the thin fabric of his compression shorts.

“Connor—” Fraser starts, voice already wrecked.

“Shut up,” Connor mutters, grinding down, feeling the hard line of Fraser’s cock through their clothes.

Fraser’s hands settle on Connor’s hips like he’s afraid to hold too tight. “Okay. Okay, whatever you need—”

Connor peels his own shorts down, then Fraser’s, and the first drag of bare skin makes both of them groan. Connor’s already so wet it’s ridiculous. He lines Fraser up and sinks down in one long, ruthless slide, taking him to the hilt with a punched-out sound that echoes off the lockers.

Fraser’s head tips back. His hands flex uselessly on Connor’s thighs. “Fuck—Connor—”

Connor doesn’t give him time to adjust. He rides him hard, rolling his hips like he’s chasing something only he can feel, one hand braced on Fraser’s chest to keep him pinned. Every downward thrust punches a soft, helpless noise out of Fraser’s throat. Connor drinks them in.

“Look at you,” Connor pants, voice low and rough with heat. “So fucking sweet. Letting me use you like this.”

Fraser’s eyes are glassy. His hips twitch up once, twice, then still when Connor growls a warning. He stays pliant, submissive, and exactly what Connor needs, aka alpha cock filling him deep while Fraser just takes it, soft and open and so carefully good for him.

Connor leans down, mouth against Fraser’s ear. “Gonna come on your cock and then you’re gonna knot me. Ok?”

Fraser nods frantically. “Yeah—yes—anything—”

Connor works himself harder, chasing the edge, the heat coiling tight and vicious until it snaps. He comes with a broken moan, clenching hard enough that Fraser whimpers, and then he doesn’t stop. He keeps moving through it, milking every last pulse, until Fraser’s knot starts to swell and catch.

Connor sinks down fully and locks them together with a satisfied sound, forehead pressed to Fraser’s.

Fraser is trembling underneath him. “Connor—”

“Shh.” Connor kisses the corner of his mouth, gentle now. “You did good. So good for me.”

and then they try courting him but he's completely oblivious until his first heat at his new apartment hits and everything feels wrong without sid and genos scent around him

Omg yes so like after the first heat finally broke, Sid and Geno tried to court Ben the proper way.

They were careful about it. Geno left little things on the kitchen counter like special snacks they wouldn't normally buy but knew Ben liked, other gifts like headphones and new shoes and nesting materials like a hoodie that smelled so strongly of both of them it made Ben’s new omega instincts feel all warm. Sid cooked extra portions and packed them into containers labeled with Ben’s name, then casually mentioned that their guest room was always open if the bed in his new apartment was too uncomfortable. They both started scenting him more deliberately after practices: Geno’s big hand on the back of Ben’s neck in the locker room, Sid leaning into his space in the kitchen with a soft “you did good today, kid.”

Ben, completely fucking oblivious, just thought they were being nice.

Rookie year hospitality. Captain looking out for the new guy. Geno being Geno. He thanked them for the food, wore the hoodie because it was soft, and when his lease finally started and he moved into the tiny one-bedroom across town, he still came over for dinner three nights a week and never noticed the way Sid’s eyes tracked him or the way Geno’s scent went possessive every time Ben left smelling like their nest.

Then the second heat hit.

Ben woke up in his new apartment and everything was wrong.

The sheets smelled like detergent and nothing else. The air was flat. His skin felt too tight, his pussy already slick and aching, and the empty space where Sid and Geno’s scents should have been made him want to cry. He tried to tough it out for almost an hour. He paced, nested the few blankets he owned into a sad little pile, pressed his face into the old hoodie Geno had given him but the scent was nearly gone, and at that point he gave up on protecting his pride.

He called Sid.

Twenty minutes later he was back in their bed, face down, ass arched, the softest parts of their nest shoved under his chest and hips. Geno was already behind him, thick cock sliding through the mess of slick, one heavy hand pinning Ben’s lower back so he couldn’t squirm away from the stretch. Sid sat near the head of the bed, legs folded, and carded gentle fingers through Ben’s hair the second Geno pushed in.

“There you go,” Sid murmured, voice low and warm. “That’s it. Take it. You’re doing so good.”

Ben made a broken little sound into the pillow. Geno bottomed out with a low groan and started fucking him in deep, steady strokes that forced slick out around his cock with every thrust. Ben’s thighs trembled. His new omega body opened for it like it had been waiting for this exact thing since the last heat.

Sid kept petting him, slow scratches across his scalp, thumb stroking behind one ear, fingers sliding down to squeeze the tense muscle of his neck before coming back up again.

“Good puppy,” Sid said softly, almost like it was the most natural thing in the world. “That’s our good puppy. Letting Geno use you. You needed it so bad, didn’t you? Needed to be back in our nest and get filled?"

Ben nodded frantically against the sheets, hips pushing back for more even as Geno’s knot started to swell. Geno leaned over him, chest to Ben’s back, and rutted harder, chasing the lock. Sid never stopped the gentle head rubs or the quiet praise.

“Almost there. Just a little more. You’re taking his knot so well. Such a good boy for us. Our sweet puppy.”

Geno’s knot caught and locked with a wet, heavy pressure that punched the air out of Ben’s lungs. He came hard around it, shaking, while Geno spilled deep and stayed pressed tight against him. Sid kept stroking his hair through the whole thing, voice never rising above that soft, fond murmur.

“That’s it. Breathe. You’re safe. You’re ours. Good puppy.”

Ben, still knotted and floating, finally understood that the gifts and the scenting and the constant invitations hadn’t just been kindness.

They had been courting the entire time.

And he had been too stupid to notice until his heat made him crawl back with his ass in the air and beg to be used.

Sid just kept petting him, smiling a little, and whispered it one more time against the crown of his head.

I'm so used to writing about boys kissing and fucking but I can absolutely make them hold hands instead

So the trail up to the clearing was barely a trail at all and more of a faint path through the trees that Macklin insisted he “definitely remembered from last summer.” Will had his doubts, but he followed anyway, one hand loosely linked with Mack’s, the other swinging an empty plastic pail that kept bumping against his knee.

It was late afternoon, the kind of golden light that made everything look softer than it actually was. The air smelled like pine and warm dirt and the faint sweetness of berries that hadn’t been picked yet. Mack kept glancing back at Will like he was making sure he hadn’t disappeared, even though their fingers were still tangled.

“You’re walking too slow,” Mack said, but there was no real anger or annoyance or anything in it. Just the fond teasing he reserved for Will.

“I’m pacing myself,” Will answered. “Some of us are saving our energy for the actual berry picking part.”

Mack grinned, the one that always made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and tugged him a little faster up the last small hill.

The clearing opened up to low bushes heavy with berries that stretched out in uneven patches, it looked like they’d been growing wild forever. Mack dropped Will’s hand only long enough to set his own pail down, then immediately reached for it again, like the few seconds of separation had been too much.

They worked side by side at first, quiet except for the soft plink of berries hitting plastic and the occasional rustle of leaves. Will kept sneaking looks at Mack with the sun on his hair, a smudge of dirt already on his face, the careful way he checked each cluster before picking so he didn’t crush the ripe ones.

After a while Mack drifted closer, until their shoulders brushed every time one of them reached for the same bush. Will pretended not to notice. Mack pretended not to notice him pretending.

“Try this one,” Mack said suddenly, holding out a berry between his thumb and finger.

Will leaned in and let Mack feed it to him. It was perfectly ripe, warm from the sun, sweet enough that Will’s expression must have given him away because Mack’s face went soft and pleased.

“Good?”

“Yeah.” Will’s voice came out quieter than he meant it to. “Really good.”

They stayed like that longer than necessary, Mack’s hand still half-raised, Will still leaning in, the pails forgotten at their feet. Then Mack’s fingers brushed the corner of Will’s mouth, gentle, like he was checking for juice, even though there wasn’t any.

Will caught his wrist without thinking and pressed a quick kiss to the inside of it. Mack’s breath hitched, small and surprised, and then he was smiling again, the soft private kind.

After that the picking got slower. They kept finding reasons to stay close, like sharing the same bush, bumping hips on purpose, trading berries back and forth just to watch each other eat them. Mack got a streak of blue on his lower lip at one point and Will wiped it away with his thumb, lingering longer than he needed to. Mack let him.

By the time the sun started dipping lower, both pails were only a fourth of the way full, but neither of them seemed to care. They sat down right there in the grass between the bushes, shoulders pressed together, legs stretched out until they were trading the last handful of berries one by one.

Mack rested his head against Will’s shoulder after a while, quiet and content. Will turned just enough to press a kiss into his hair.

Omg I love this I love this

Id imagine Ben didn't even realize he was presenting, all he knew was that everything suddenly smelled 'wrong'

The hallway, the kitchen, even Geno’s expensive cologne lingering near the front door, like all of it was sharp and off and was making his stomach twist. He’d been fine that morning.

And like it's his rookie year and he's living with his captain and the captain's mate, crashing in their guest room most nights because the lease on his place didn't start until next month bc of a small hiccup from the housing dept w the pens. So he doesn't want to come off as rude and be like omg this place smells like shit and he's only 19 and still trying to keep his head down and not make the fact he's staying there weird bc he maybe, possibly, definitely has a crush on both of them.

Then the heat hit while they were at the arena for some vet meeting thing.

He’d barely made it upstairs before his body started changing. Soft new slick between his legs, a sudden empty ache low in his belly, and the only thing that didn’t make him want to claw his skin off was the open door to Sid and Geno’s room.

Sid’s nest.

It was a careful, ridiculous pile of soft blankets and hoodies and used team gear and some of Geno’s old shirts, all layered in the middle of the big bed. It smelled like both of them. Sid’s clean, quiet omega scent and Geno’s heavier alpha one, mixed together the way they always were.

Ben crawled in without thinking.

He ended up on his stomach in the middle of it, face pressed into a pillow that smelled like Sid’s hair, and his hips started rocking without permission. His new pussy was already wet, sensitive in a way that made every drag of soft fabric feel perfect. He rubbed against the blankets in small, desperate motions, chasing the friction bc he literally didn't know any other way to satisfy himself other than that and breathing in the scent of the older couple like it might keep him from flying apart. A soft, broken noise slipped out of his throat. He was so gone he didn’t even hear the front door open downstairs.

Sid and Geno found him like that.

Ben frozen mid-rut, cheeks flushed, new omega scent flooding the room and for a second nobody moved.

Then Geno made a low, interested sound in the back of his throat, and Sid’s eyes went soft.

“Oh, kid,” Sid said quietly, already stripping out of his hoodie to add to the nest for Ben. “It’s okay. We’ve got you.”

Ben tried to scramble up, tried to apologize, but Geno was on the bed in two long strides, big hands settling on Ben’s hips and pressing him carefully back down into the nest. “Stay. You’re already here. Already wet. We take care of you now.”

Sid climbed in behind him and guided Ben to settle more comfortably w his head on Sid's lap. Warm hands found Ben’s shoulders first, then slid up into his hair, thumbs pressing slow, careful circles against his scalp. The touch was grounding, almost dizzying in how soft it felt.

“Breathe,” Sid murmured, voice low and steady right by Ben’s ear. “Presenting’s a lot. Your body’s just figuring itself out. New scent, new slick, your first heat, it’s all normal. Every omega goes through it. And if you feel safe here, you’re not doing anything wrong.”

Geno shifted behind Ben, big hands spreading his thighs, and Ben felt the blunt press of his cock sliding through the mess of slick. Geno pushed in slow, thick and relentless, filling him until Ben’s breath hitched.

Sid kept talking, kept massaging, never rushing. “Heats’ll come in waves. First one’s usually the strongest. You’ll want to nest, want to be close to alphas you trust, want to get fucked until the ache eases. That’s not greedy and your not bad for wanting a lot. That’s just how it works. Your body’s asking for what it needs.”

Geno started thrusting, deep and steady, one hand braced next to Ben's stomach while the other stroked the curve of his hip. Every drag of his cock pulled soft, punched-out sounds out of Ben. Sid’s fingers never stopped moving through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, then trailing down to knead the tight muscles of his shoulders and neck.

“You’re doing so well,” Sid whispered. “Taking G like that. Feels good, doesn’t it? Being full. Being safe in someone else’s nest."

Geno’s rhythm grew heavier, more purposeful. Ben could feel the swell of his knot starting to catch, stretching him wider with every push. Sid pressed a soft kiss to Ben’s hairline, still murmuring quiet, steady reassurances while Geno fucked him through it.

“Almost there,” Sid soothed. “Let him knot you. It’ll help. Pressure’s good for the cramps. You’ll feel full and heavy and calm after. That’s the good part. That’s what your body wants.”

Geno growled low and shoved in deep one last time, knot locking tight behind Ben’s pubic bone as he came. The sudden, overwhelming fullness punched a broken moan out of Ben. Geno’s weight settled over him, careful not to crush him, while Sid kept petting his hair and shoulders, voice never rising above that gentle, steady murmur.

“There you go. Just breathe through it. You’re okay. You’re an omega now, and that’s normal. Everything you’re feeling is normal. We’ve got you.”

They stayed like that for a long time after, with Geno still knotted deep inside him and Sid’s hands never leaving his hair or shoulders, quiet words of reassurance and soft praise filling the space between Ben’s shaky breaths.

Sending asks ab liking my blog and or my work means we kissed btw,

Omg your mind ..,,.

So I'm imagining Ben shows up at Sid and Geno’s place looking wrecked, face red from crying or panicking or both, hands twitching and fidgeting w his shirt like he doesn’t know what to do with them. They ask what’s wrong and he just stammers. Like yeah words fall apart. He can’t get a single coherent sentence out.

So he does the only thing that makes sense in the moment.

He shoves his pants and underwear down.

There’s a cunt between his legs. It's soft and flushed and already a little wet.

Geno stares for a long second, then mutters something low in Russian and steps in. He doesn’t ask more questions. Just backs Ben on the couch so they he's laying long ways but his hips are raised on the arm, and Geno spreads Ben's thighs, and sinks into that new, tight little cunt like he’s testing whether fucking it hard enough might break the curse. Slow at first, then deeper, watching Ben’s face twist every time he bottoms out.

Sid’s kneeling above Ben's head and already has a hand in Ben’s hair, tilting his head back. “Open,” he says, quiet but firm. Ben does. Sid feeds him his cock and starts fucking his throat in the same rhythm Geno’s using on his cunt, like if they fill him from both ends maybe whatever made him get cursed will just get fucked out of him.

Ben’s making those wrecked little sounds around Sid’s cock, hips jerking every time Geno’s hips snap forward. Neither of them is being particularly gentle about it. They’re not treating it like a curse so much as a problem that needs solving with friction and come.

I am thinking..,,. Many Things,

So Ben's been planning it for days, like genuinely overthinking every single detail, and then finally the night comes where Sid and Geno are supposed to be home late from whatever, and Ben's just sitting there in their room with this black lacy lingerie set that is so fucking pretty. Like the kind with the delicate little straps that cross over the chest and the soft lace cups that barely cover anything and then the matching bottoms that sit high on the hips with these tiny bows, and it’s all sheer in the right places so you can see everything but not quite, you know?

So Ben's already changed into it, maybe with just a soft oversized shirt thrown over the top for like five seconds of false modesty, and he's pacing a little because the nerves are real, and his heart is doing that fluttery thing. And then the door opens and the older men walk in all casual, like “hey I’m home,” and Ben's sitting there and just lets the shirt slip off one shoulder first, then the other, and the black lace is just right there under the low light.

And Geno is a big softy and he gets flustered easy so he freezes first. Like completely stops mid-step. And Ben’s trying so hard not to smile too wide but it’s impossible, and then Sid does that little shy-but-not-really shift of weight, one hand coming up to toy with a strap, and Ben says something soft like “surprise?” in that quiet voice that always gets to both of the older men.

And then it’s just this long second of silence where both Sid and Geno's eyes are dragging over every bit of lace and skin, and Ben’s thinking oh god did I go too far, and then Sid is crossing the room in two strides and hands are already on Ben’s waist, thumbs brushing the lace while Geno leans against the doorframe watching, and the way Sid’s voice drops when he finally speaks is just 🤤🤤 yeah.

So Ben’s basically melting on the spot while Geno keeps looking at him from the doorway like he can’t decide whether to keep staring or just ruin the lingerie completely.