for any ryan leonard fans out there not watching tonight's game vs. umass, the announcers just said he's got about 40 family members at this game, including everyone from "cousins to the family priest" so that's uh. that's so. we're being so normal about this. so incredibly normal
sports has everything you could possibly want honestly. found family. forced family. divorced family. soulmates. enemies to lovers. lovers to strangers. good overcoming evil. evil winning it all. broken dreams. dreams come true. and most importantly. bloody face injuries. who said that
Honestly, as much as I love "Fiction isn't reality" as a proship belief, I also saw someone using "Fiction isn't education" and I think that might be even better. Because the idea of fiction affecting reality has a different meaning to everyone and is pretty easy for antis to try and twist against us, but "You should not assume that any piece of fiction is meant to instruct you on how to think or act" is a much more clear-cut message that I think is harder to dispute. I like it a lot. Fiction is not education.
i spun 4 times cuz the results seemed a little all over the place, but i got rule 63 twice so i think that's a sign. n e way mackleno: rule 63, dystopian au, winners room? i have no idea what these will lead to, but good luck!
[warning: this one really leans into the dubcon nature of the winner's room and gets fucked up with it!]
The red light is already on when Mack steps into the room. She’s never been in the room with the camera’s light off, actually. Maybe it records 24/7. Every minute, every second, even though the room sits empty most of the time.
Mack can’t imagine why. This part has to be boring to watch: Leonard sitting on the edge of the utilitarian bed, shoulders slumped in defeat as he waits, picking at his nail beds.
He stands up when she enters. It’s – not sweet, exactly, but interesting. Unexpected. Halfway through the season, he’s lost some of his summer bulk. His freckles are fainter than when she last saw him.
“Celebrini,” he says. He meets her eye, but can’t manage to hold it, his gaze darting around a little nervously. She wonders if he’s always like this, in the room. Or if it’s special, just for her.
“Leonard.”
He briefly catches her eye again. Then his gaze dips to her mouth before sweeping down her body.
Mack’s wearing an oversized hoodie and shorts, her bare feet shoved into a pair of slides. There’s really not much for Leonard to look at. Even if she took her clothes off, she can’t imagine she’d be his type. Hockey players are all the same, really. Even the ones who’ll bravely date a brunette still want them cute and petite.
But what Leonard wants doesn’t matter in the room. Not when it’s Mack’s win. When Leonard’s her forfeit.
Mack earned this.
Leonard doesn’t wait for instructions. Wetting his lips, he closes the distance between them in a couple of easy, loping strides, then, after one lingering look at the camera in the corner and its red, unblinking light, he surprises Mack by dropping to his knees in front of her.
“Yeah?” he asks, his fingers hovering at her waistband. She can feel his warm breath through her shorts.
Mack blinks down at him. His mouth is inches from her pussy.
Hot, churning anger flares beneath her skin.
What the fuck does Leonard think he’s doing, going off script like this? Mack won. She decides what happens in the room. Sure, the technical rule is that he has to get her off. He could eat her out right here on his knees and that would fulfill the terms.
But Mack knows people talk. Leonard himself might brag about it, how he made her come with his mouth, and the next guy she picks will think he can offer something too, and suddenly she’s lost the upper hand. The power the room gives her. Or even – Mack’s heard rumors about players getting… feedback. It’s filtered through the coaching staff, of course. They don’t watch the footage, Mack doesn’t think, but whoever does – there are certain expectations.
Like, you don’t give up on puck battles out on the ice. You play a full sixty minutes no matter what. And when it’s your room, your forfeit, you don’t fucking go easy on them.
No one goes easy on Mack in the room.
She does like the sight of Leonard down on his knees for her, though. And there’s nothing wrong with a little warmup before the main event.
“Sure,” Mack decides.
Leonard makes quick work of her shorts, yanking them down her legs. Mack didn’t bother with underwear, so he gets an immediate face full of pussy for his trouble. He doesn’t seem upset about it.
Threading her fingers through his hair, Mack gives Leonard a generous three seconds to assess the play, breathe her in a bit before she impatiently tugs on it. Leonard gets the hint and puts his mouth on her. He doesn’t fuck around either, just dives right in, his crooked nose buried in her bush as he gets to work.
He’s kind of sloppy about it, licking as deep into her pussy as he can get, his blunt nails digging into the back of her thighs. Mack had grabbed him by the hair to be a bitch, but she finds herself gripping tighter to stay on her feet, even with the way Leonard’s holding her legs to keep her steady.
“Okay,” she pants after a while. She’s not, like, close to coming, but she’s definitely warmed up. His technique might be all over the place, but Leonard’s not afraid to get into the dirty areas. He doesn’t stop, and Mack pulls on his hair. Hard. “Enough.”
Leonard pulls back. He’s breathing hard, the bottom half of his entire face absolutely dripping. Well. It had certainly sounded wet, the way he was going at it, so that’s shouldn’t really come as a surprise.
“Did you come?” he asks, all hopeful.
Mack snorts. “Uh, no?”
He frowns. “Then why’d you—”
“I don’t want your mouth,” Mack tells him.
“You want me to fuck you?” Leonard at least has enough sense to sound confused about it, though clearly not enough to keep from asking such a dumb question.
Mack shakes her head. “No, bud. I’m fucking you.”
It takes a moment for Leonard to understand her meaning. She watches the realization dawn across his face. The panicked look he shoots the camera when he figures it out.
The red light is still on. Mack smiles, mean. “Clothes off. Get on the bed.”
Leonard’s slow to get to his feet. He keeps checking over his shoulder suspiciously as Mack goes to the cabinet where the supplies are kept. It’s well stocked with lube. Mack’s favorite strap is there too, discreetly tucked away in the top drawer.
By the time Mack’s got herself situated, her shorts kicked all the way off, hoodie pulled over her head, and her strap fixed in place, Leonard’s naked on his back, sprawled across the sheets. He does not look happy, but that’s the point, right?
If the Caps had won, if Leonard had gotten winner’s rights, it’d be Mack flat on her back without her clothes. Or maybe Will on his knees.
A lot of guys are fine with getting sucked off, making their forfeit choke on it, rather than putting in the work of fucking them. That’s probably why Leonard tried to eat her out – he thought he could make Mack come that way and be done with it.
But Mack thinks that Leonard is like her. Why be satisfied with an inch, when you could take a mile? It’s not like it matters whether you treat a guy nice in the room, go easy on him or not – they or their teammate, or the guy on the next team, are still going to do what they want to you the next time you’re the chosen forfeit.
The only way to avoid that fate is to win. Leonard should know that by now.
Mack tosses a factory sealed bottle of lube at him. He fumbles, but manages to catch it.
“You want to do the honors, or should I?” Mack asks. She wraps her fingers around her strap. It’s not huge, exactly, but Leonard is going to feel it tomorrow.
Mack’s going to make sure of it.
Scowling, Leonard picks at the sealed cap with his fingernail. Mack raises her brow. “Or did you want me to just shove it in?”
He must have gotten fucked in the room before, though Mack guesses it’s probably his first time getting it from a girl. There’s not exactly a lot of them in the league. His chin is still glistening with spit and slick. God, did he really think she picked him just to munch box?
“I’ll do it,” he finally mumbles, tearing the plastic off the cap and flicking it open. He was already kind of pink, but a truly brilliant red crawls from his neck up to his face as he squeezes the lube out onto his fingers and spreads his thighs.
Mack watches, rapt, as Leonard shoves his hand between his legs. She can’t see what he’s doing, but he’s used enough lube to make it sound like he’s fingering someone’s wet pussy as his wrist tenses and flexes. He’d been mostly hard – Mack stupidly flushes thinking about why; the idea that he was honestly into eating her out makes her feel—whatever – but he flags a little as he works himself open, his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
Kneeling on the bed between his ankles, Mack reaches for his dick. Leonard’s eyes fly open. “What—” he gasps, chest heaving. From this new angle, Mack can see that he’s got two fingers buried inside, a third wedged up against his rim.
“It’s better if you’re hard,” Mack explains. Like, for him obviously, but for her too – she won’t be able to get off with just the strap, won’t get enough stimulation that way, but that’s not the point of fucking Leonard.
She wants him panting. Begging. Ideally crying, but because he’s desperate to come, not because he hates it.
That’s what’s going to get her there, close enough it’ll just take a little bit of pressure on her clit from the right angle to finish.
Mack helps herself to the bottle of lube, slicking up her hand before wrapping it around Leonard’s dick and slowly jacking him while he fingers himself.
He mostly just stares at her, slack jawed, while they touch him in tandem, his dick filling out against her palm. Leonard’s gaze eventually settles on her tits, though Mack’s still wearing her sports bra so all he’s really got is a view of her cleavage.
The sound of their breathing, the slick skin on skin, is loud in the otherwise quiet room. Mack’s wedged between Leonard’s legs, holding them open so he couldn’t close them even if he wanted to, even if he wasn’t busy stuffing a third finger inside himself. His gold chain glitters around his neck, the pendant nestled between his pecs. Mack has the insane urge to get her mouth on it. Lick it. Bite it. She doesn’t know.
She’s going to fuck Leonard just like this, she thinks. Face to face, so she can watch the play of light against the gold. Every flicker of emotion across his face. So she knows exactly how good she makes him feel.
So he’ll know it, too. The power Mack has over him.
“Okay,” Leonard finally says, pulling his fingers free. They glisten with lube before he smears them against the sheets. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “It’s, um. I think I’m ready.”
He looks nervous as she settles herself between his legs, nudging her lubed up strap against his rim. He’s visibly tense, sweat darkening his hair.
“Relax,” Mack tells him, annoyed. “It’ll go in easier if you relax.”
“Wow, thanks for the tip.”
Narrowing her eyes, Mack pushes in. Just a little.
Leonard immediately sucks in a sharp breath. God, he’s tight. She can’t feel it, not the way she could if she had a real dick, but the resistance is— “Leonard. I said to relax. Fucking breathe.”
He lets his breath out shakily. Mack wedges her strap in a little more. Leonard’s hands fly up and land on her waist; not stopping her, but holding on like he needs to cling to something. Mack keeps going, working her strap in deeper and deeper with these itty bitty little thrusts. Leonard’s fingers dig into her skin, his breathing getting sharp and panicky the more she gives him.
“You’re fine,” Mack says. Sweat drips into her eyes. “You can take it.”
Leonard nods, red-faced.
By the time Mack’s buried the whole thing inside him, her hips flush with the back of his thighs, he’s covered in sweat and going soft again. Mack’s not really coordinated enough to fuck him and jerk him off at the same time, so she keeps herself tucked in him, wishing she could feel the hot clutch of his body, as she reaches for his dick again.
“Fuck. Fuck,” Leonard curses when she starts jerking him off. He squirms underneath her, sort of writhing in place, but there’s nowhere for him to go – not caught beneath her weight, impaled on her strap. All he can do is take it. Mack’s dick inside him, her hand getting him hard again. His thighs brush against her as he kicks against the sheets, but it’s not enough to unseat her. Mack doesn’t think he’s trying to. He just doesn’t seem like he knows what to do with himself as she touches him.
“Mack,” he says, voice ragged. His dick is pulsing in her hand, precome dribbling from the tip. “Mack, you gotta.”
“What?”
“Move,” Leonard croaks. He tries to roll his hips, to twist beneath her, but mostly just flails. “Please, please, just – I need—”
“You want me to fuck you? Is that what you’re asking for?”
“Please,” Leonard says again, his voice cracking.
Mack’s not actually sure if he’s asking her to fuck him, or to pull out, but it’s not Leonard’s choice either way. Letting go of his dick to brace herself – Leonard whines about that, but Mack does not have three hands, so sorry for his loss – Mack carefully draws her hips back before slamming back in.
Leonard’s eyes roll back inside his head.
Mack watches his face closely as she starts up her rhythm, chasing the angle that makes him gasp, that makes him arch off the bed. Leonard just takes it, letting go of her waist to cling to the sheets, his dick red and leaking it’s so hard now.
“Can you come like this?” Mack pants, watching the way it kicks against his stomach. It’s hard keeping her angle right with the way her thighs are starting to burn, how they’re both slippery with sweat. “Just from me fucking you?”
“I—I don’t—”
“On my strap,” Mack coaxes. “My dick, filling you up. C’mon. I want you to.”
Leonard whimpers. “I can’t, I can’t, I need – you gotta touch me, p-please—”
“You can,” Mack tells him. She’s got the angle right. Leonard’s body can’t lie. He likes this. He wants this.
Mack likes it too. She’s soaked her harness, sweat and slick both, her pussy absolutely dripping. It clenches around nothing, empty and wanting, but that just means that when she does finally come, it’ll be mind numbing. She can wait. She can earn it.
First she needs to see this through. Needs to see Leonard come undone. Come all over himself because of her.
“Please please please,” he’s chanting now. His face is so sweaty it’s impossible to tell if those are tear tracks leaking from the corners of his eyes. Mack leans down to swipe her tongue over the side of his face to see if she can taste the difference.
Leonard groans at the change in angle, breathing hotly in her ear. He tries to grind his dick against her stomach, and Mack quickly sits up again.
“Noo,” Leonard hiccups. Yeah, those are definitely tears.
Mack’s not sure she can find the right angle again, not sure she’s got the stamina to keep going if she could. Taking pity, she grinds her strap in deep as she reaches down and runs a single fingertip along Leonard’s dick from the base all the way to the tip.
His back bows off the bed as he comes, shooting all over himself. It lands as high as his chin.
“Oh,” Mack breathes.
She pulls out quickly, ignoring the hurt noise Leonard makes. Then she shoves her hand between her legs, pushing the harness straps aside to get at her pussy. It doesn’t take much. A couple of fingers inside, a little pressure against her clit. Mack sees white as she tips over the edge.
She collapses onto the bed next to Leonard, panting raggedly. He surprises her again when he rolls into her, hiding his face against her neck. He’s shaking a little, these fine tremors, like an uncontrollable adrenaline crash, and Mack feels kind of bad for being annoyed that he’s getting his come on her.
Awkwardly, she settles her arm around his shoulders. There’s not really a better place to put it.
In the corner of the room, the red light is still on. It doesn’t seem right, suddenly, that the camera should see this part. Ripping the sheet off the corner of the mattress, Mack pulls it over them. Just until Leonard stops trembling.
Mack did what she was supposed to. She won the game, she performed in the room, and if Leonard has anything to say about her after, it won’t be that she went easy on him.
"You did good," she says against his sweaty hair. Quiet, so the camera hopefully won't catch it. Leonard did his part too. He should know that, even if Mack doesn't want anyone else listening in.
He mumbles something, his lips catching against her skin. It's not really a kiss, but Mack shivers anyway.
what they dont tell you is that if you're a hockey fan for a long enough time you start feeling insane about the new wave of fans who don't know Anything. not in a hockey sense, but in a fandom sense
the thing about quinn fucking trevor, which obviously he is, is that it's like. well the sex is bad let's start there. but it's like the kissing booth if it was about your bitchy popular friend's older brother who's 5"8 and talks about being "a high value male" because he "embraces his masculine energy" (refuses to jerk off for months and acts he climbed everest) and this girl you kind of know whose guilty pleasure movie is beverly hills chihuahua and who used to fuck her dealer but then had a crisis about it on girls night and broke up with him over voice notes in iMessage. and you go round and if you go into the living room she'll be on his lap like. straddling him and they'll be eye to eye. like forehead to forehead. and shirtless, though she'll have a sports bra, because she's not like. a hippie. and your friend will go UGH I can't believe them let's go to the pool. and they'll be deeply in love for 5 months before he cheats and she has to start hiking to find herself.