#Dawson mercer fic

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ let me show you ] d. mercer

day 5 of kinktober (praise kink w/ dawson mercer)

paring : Dawson Mercer x fem!reader

summary : Dawson shows his best friend how sex is supposed to feel

warning(s) : smut ! inexperienced!reader, soft dom!dawson, oral (f recieving), p in v, protected sex, praise kink, pet names during sex

author’s note : being so serious when i say that this is (i think) the first time im writing for merc so plsss bear w me and tell me what you think. it was supposed to be on she shorter end, but i got a lil carried away so there is actual plot including. enjoy <33

kinktober schedule

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That is not how sex is supposed to feel. Even with only one hookup prior to tonight under her belt, she doesn't think it was supposed to be that bad. Both her hookups to this day were honestly bad, and she's starting to think it has something to do with her.

She didn't think she would ever be the one to sneak out of someone's bed after hooking up with them, but here she is. She quietly and quickly gathers her clothes before she gets dressed so she can make her escape.

On the way down to the Uber that she ordered once her date fell asleep, she calls Dawson because she needs to tell someone about her night.

The phone rings a few times before he answers the phone.

"Aren't you supposed to be out on a date right now?" he questions as soon as he picks up the phone.

She pushes the door open and is met with cool New Jersey air. It whips through her hair. "Supposed to be are the key words," she tells him. "No, he brought me back to his apartment and attempted to fuck me."

"Attempted?" he asks, confusion evident in his voice. She can only imagine his face. "How did he attempt to fuck you? Because usually he did or he didn’t."

Before she gets into the Uber, she says in a hushed voice, "He couldn't figure out how to put his dick in me, Dawson. That's what I mean when I say he attempted to fuck me. He just went down on me instead and he came just from doing that. And I’m pretty sure I didn’t orgasm.”

He howls with laughter as she gets into the backseat of the Uber. "No way," Dawson laughs. "You're telling me he didn't know where to put it? Oh my God."

"It's embarrassing for me too, Merc," she tells him, face red like she is having this conversation face-to-face with him. "It's not like I knew any better either. Both hookups I’ve had have been the worst experiences of my life and taught me next to nothing about what I’m supposed to do.”

Her best friend is quiet as the Uber starts the drive to her apartment building in Hoboken. She raises her eyebrows, but he starts talking before she can ask if he’s still there.

“Come to my apartment,” he tells her. Dawson sounds a little more serious than he did thirty seconds ago.

“Why?”

“Just … come to my apartment,” he reiterates. “I’ll tell you why when you get here.”

Confused flood her body. “Okay,” she sighs. She tells the Uber driver Dawson’s address before she turns her attention back to the conversation. “You’re being very suspicious right now and I’m not sure I like it.”

“You love me anyway,” he laughs. “See you soon.”

Then the line beeps dead and she pulls the phone away from her ear. She blinks at the dark device and questions why he suddenly told her to come over. It’s almost one in the morning and she’s pretty sure he has morning skate at ten, yet he told her to come over.

If he wants to make her feel better, he could’ve waited until it wasn’t the middle of the night. They could’ve gone to lunch tomorrow when he got done practice and before he took his pre-game nap. Dawson didn’t have to tell her to come over.

The drive to Dawson’s place takes ten minutes longer than the drive to her apartment would’ve taken. It’s close to 1:30 in the morning when the Uber pulls up out front of his apartment building. She thanks the driver and heads up to Dawson's fourth floor apartment.

Three knocks later and she's face-to-face with Dawson in his pajama pants and Devils t-shirt. He looks her up and down where she stands in her little black dress and heels. The dress isn't too revealing but it shows off her curves with the way it hugs her body.

She walks past him without a word. Her cheeks threaten to turn red as she turns back to face him. Dawson shuts the door and she asks, "Is there a reason I'm in your apartment in the middle of the night?"

"You said your hookup experiences weren't the best," Dawson slowly says, hesitating a bit.

"Did you seriously ask me to come over so you could make fun of me because of my lack of experience?" she asks, annoyance evident in her voice. "Because not all of us can be a professional hockey-"

"I might be your best friend, but I wouldn't make fun of you for that," he interrupts. "God. Who do you think I am? I make fun of you for a lot of things but not because of your lack of experience."

Her body begins to relax because she really thought he was going to make fun of her. "Then why did you ask me to come over if it wasn't to make fun of me?" she tries again.

There's a moment of hesitation like Dawson's unsure of what to say next. She raises her eyebrows in confusion until he speaks.

She's very surprised at the words that leave his mouth.

"Let me show you how sex is supposed to feel," he tells her. "I'm your best friend. I hope that means you trust me enough to let me show you how good sex is supposed to be."

As soon as the words pass his lips, she's taken aback.

They've been best friends since they met their freshman year of high school and she never fathomed hooking up with him. She would be lying if she had she never thought about it though, because she has a few times. He's attractive, an insanely good hockey player, and has the best sense of humor. She knows that; she just never thought he'd want to hook up with her.

"You would do that?" she questions. "For me?"

Dawson nods and takes a step toward her. "I'd do anything for you," he replies. "Including this, if you want. So you're not embarrassed and know what you're doing next time someone takes you home after a date."

Slowly, he crosses the living room until he's standing in front of her. She looks up at him and sharply inhales when their eyes meet for a second.

"I, um ..." she trails off. "Yeah."

A small smile forms on Dawson's lips. "Yeah?" he asks. "Is that a yes?"

She nods and reaches out to touch him. She hesitates, gnawing on her bottom lip. "It's a yes," she tells him. "Before we do though, just promise me that it won't change anything. You'll still be my best friend and you'll still make fun of me for stupid things and I'll still get to make fun of you every time you fall on the ice."

The grin on Dawson's face grows. "Nothing will ever change," he tells her. "You'll still be able to make fun of me every time I fall on the ice. As a matter of fact, please keep making fun of me when I fall on the ice because it's one of my favorite things when you do."

A smile forms on her face as she looks up at her best friend. "Then okay," she sighs. "Show me how sex is supposed to feel."

With her permission and consent, he leans down and captures her lips in a long, deep kiss. Her heart races in her chest the longer their lips touch. She reciprocates it, matching the slow pace he instigated the kiss with. His forehead rests on her as the kiss deepens slightly.

Dawson brings his hand up and cups her jaw, holding her close. She rests her hands on his waist, grabbing his shirt lightly and pulling at the thin fabric so he doesn't get too far. His free hand mirrors the other one. She hums at the feeling because she's never been kissed like this.

While she lacks experience in bed, she's had her fair share of kisses in her life. Teenage relationships in high school, a little experimentation during her college years, and a handful of dates since she moved to Jersey to be close to Dawson.

In all those years though, she's never been kissed the way her best friend is kissing her now. The way he's holding her, deeply kissing her. She's not sure she'll want to kiss anyone else but Dawson after this.

He moves his hands down to her waist and she slides hers up over his chest until she wraps them around his neck. Dawson's hands rest on her butt and she smiles into the kiss that follows. He kisses her smile before he takes advantage and licks into her mouth. She gasps and hums at the feeling.

Yeah, she may never kiss anyone but Dawson after this.

The kiss turns rushed, heated, and full of tongue. She kicks off the heels she's wearing while Dawson picks her up after he wraps his arms around her waist. She wraps her legs around him and he carries her off to his bedroom down the hallway.

A soft light illuminates the room from the lamp that's lit next to his bed. That's the only light in the room when Dawson crawls on his knees on the mattress before he lies her on her back. She rolls her hips against his and Dawson pulls back.

"Okay," he breathes out with a smile on his face. "You're rushing. Don't rush. You're chasing after something you have to build to first so take a second. I have you and I'll make sure you feel good."

She nods and relaxes her entire body under his. She stares up at him and bites her bottom lip. Dawson sits back on his feet and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Her eyes widen at the sight of him without a shirt and his checkered pants hanging low on his waist.

"Oh, fuck me," she breathes out.

"That's the plan," Dawson replies.

He hooks his fingers around the thin straps that sit on her shoulders. He pulls them down off her shoulders very slowly, pulling the fabric down with the straps. When she pulls her arms out, Dawson keeps pulling the dress off.

Her breasts are exposed and she doesn't feel the need to cover her chest up. She lets Dawson keep looking at her the way she can't help but look at him.

She lifts her hips so Dawson can pull off the dress. It hits the floor with a soft thud. Her fingers splay across his torso and run up his chest. Dawson wraps his hands around her wrists and pulls her so she's sitting up, chest against his.

Dawson lifts her head up with a curled pointer finger. "I've always thought you were pretty," he softly tells her while his eyes study her face. Her face turns red. "But holy shit. You are so beautiful. I'm going to make sure you feel so good, my pretty girl."

His words shoot straight to her core. "Merc," she sighs. "You can't just say those things."

"I can," he replies while he runs a finger between her breasts. "And I will because in this moment, I'm allowed to." His fingers trails down her stomach until it reaches the waistband of her ruined panties. "So get used to it."

She shivers at his words and allows him to pull off the thin fabric. She is completely bare in front of him, and he looks at her like she's the only thing in the entire world.

It might be because they're sharing this intimate moment, but she can't help but think maybe he feels something for her. She's had a couple of moments where she thought maybe they could be more than friends, but she didn't think he shared those sentiments so she never said anything. She's never initiated anything, but he suggested they do this tonight so she can't help but wonder if he feels something for her.

Dawson lies down on his stomach with his face between her legs. He licks his bottom lip and mumbles, "So wet, pretty girl. All for me?"

Pretty girl rings throughout her head and leaves her tongue-tied. All she can do is nod in response to his question. Dawson grins and kisses her thigh. Her body shudders in response. He trails kisses from her thigh to her core. He licks a slow stripe over her core and she lets out a soft hum as her hands find a home in his hair.

"God, Dawson," she gasps. His lips wrap around her clit and he hums, sending shocks throughout her entire body.

In the two hookups she's had before this one, it's never felt like this. Her body has never reacted like this before. An unfamiliar knot has already formed in the pit of her stomach, and Dawson has only used his tongue on her. He hasn't touched her, but it already feels so good.

His tongue runs through her soaked folds. Soft hums pass his lips every so often, and each time she gasps.

"So good for me," Dawson tells her. "So patient for me. You taste so good, baby."

Before she can even react to his words, he slips his tongue inside of her. A borderline pornographic moan passes her lips while her fingers curl in his locks. She throws her head back in pleasure as Dawson licks her closer to her inevitable orgasm.

He shifts his position on the bed so he’s more on his knees than his stomach. His hands rest on her belly for a second before they slide up to cup her breasts. She hums and rests her own hands on his.

“Merc,” she sighs. “I think I’m close. Please.”

If her shaking legs and knot in her stomach are any kind of indication then she’s close. Closer than she probably thinks she is.

Dawson pulls back and she whines at the loss of contact. He stands up next to the bed and completely undresses himself. She basically starts salivating at the sight of his cock springing free of it’s checkered confines. She gnaws on her bottom lip and can’t wait to get her mouth on his dick.

Tonight is not that night though. Dawson probably won’t let it happen because he’s so bent on making her feel good.

He reached into his bedside table drawer and pulls out a small silver package. She presses her lips into a tight line when she realizes that is going to be inside her.

Dawson crawls back onto the bed between her legs. He rips open the package with his teeth and slides its contents onto his dick. He lines his tip up with her entrance and she lets out a sigh.

“I’ve got you,” he promises. “You’re doing so well for me.”

His praise is one thing she never expected to turn her on. The more he praises her, the closer her orgasm gets. It’s new, but she likes hearing Dawson talk to her like that.

She lets her legs fall to the side and Dawson hovers over her. She pulls him down for a deep kiss. He pushes into her.

There a pinch of pain when he stretches her out before it turns into pleasure the further into her he pushes. She hums as he buries himself into her. “So big, Merc,” she tells him between kisses. “Might ruin me for anyone else.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” he replies. She smiles into the kiss that follows.

He allows her to adjust to his size for a second before he starts rolling his hips. She gasps as he feels his cock inside of her. Again, there’s slight pain for a second before it turns into pleasure.

The room is quickly filled with the creak of the bed and soft sounds that rise from her throat. She wraps her legs around his waist and he changes his angle to move even deeper into her.

“Fuck, Dawson!” she gasps. “Fucking me so good. God.”

Dawson smiles and quickens his pace.

She throws her head back and his lips leave hers to attach to her jaw. She wraps her arms around his neck to keep him close. One of his hands rests on her waist while he moves.

“So tight for me, pretty girl,” Dawson tells her. "Perfect little pussy. All for me."

"All for you, Merc," she pants. Her legs begin to shake as she does everything she can to keep herself from coming before she wants to.

Dawson slows his pace but continues to move deeply into her. He hits a sweet spot and she cries out his name.

"Come for me, pretty girl," Dawson pants. "Make a mess on my cock."

With his words, the knot in her stomach comes undone and a wave of pleasure overcomes her. She completely blacks out. Her vision whitens and Dawson's name falls from her lips. Dawson fucks her though what's probably the first proper orgasm she's ever had.

She's so out of it that she doesn't feel Dawson come into the condom he's wearing, pull out of her to dispose of it, go into the bathroom and come back out to clean them both up.

That experience was so much better than the last two. The first time she had sex in college was messy and painful. The second time was that night before she went to Dawson's. Third time really was the charm because she's never felt that good when having sex.

That's the Dawson Mercer experience.

Eventually, she finds the strength to move and Dawson laughs. "You okay?" he asks. "I lost you for a second there."

"You are ..." she trails off. "That was-- Dawson. Holy shit. No wonder women keep wanting to fuck you."

He grins, proud of himself. "I guess that means it was a much better experience than you've already had?" he asks.

"Much," she laughs. "I don't think I'll find anything better than that."

"Well, you're welcome to come back whenever you want," he tells her. "Honestly. It felt really good for me too so I wouldn't say no if you ever wanted to run it back."

"Yeah?"

Dawson hums as she curls up around him. She looks up at him and tries hard not to stare at his swollen lips, unsure if she can kiss him at this point.

Their moment is over, but she suspects that it won't be the only moment they share in the coming weeks or months. Maybe their whole relationship will change after tonight. Who knows?

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MAIN HOCKEY

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[huggybearluvr]

hey!

Can I request a fic with Daswon Mercer ? Like any storylien you want.

only mine || dm91

summary: Yours and Dawson's relationship has never been defined or public. However, after Sebastian Aho starts chirping yours brothers using you as the target, Dawson can't help but defend his girl.

warnings: mentions of a fight (not much detail), slut shaming? kinda not really

Masterlist

You knew there was a possibility of a fight tonight. Your brother Jack, had fought Sebastian just last season in the playoffs. However, you did not expect to see Dawson standing over the hurricanes player.

The game was going pretty smoothly both teams playing equally well, the score was 0-0 half way through the second.

Your breathe hitched watching as Aho poked the puck away from Bratt taking it down the devils end for a one on one with Daws.

The net hit the back of net earning many boos from the crowd. However, your eyes were fixaited on him as he skated over to your brothers. You couldn't hear what he said but by the angered look on your brothers faces it wasn't good.

You watched as Dawson immediately turned around, pushing your brothers back, as he flung off his gloves. Aho followed however, did not get a single hit off, as Dawson knocked him to the ground and continued his attack.

It wasn't until Nico and Jack ripped Dawson off of him that the fight was over. Dawson was ejected from the game slinging out some harsh threats you couldn't hear past the ice, breaking a stick, and leaving the ice.

You immediately got up heading to the locker room.

You flashed your badge and I.D at the security guard making your way to the locker room.

You gently knocked on the door wanting to make sure Dawson was alone before you entered.

"What." Dawsons aid angrily before he turned around seeing you, his eyes immediately softened. His arms opened, inviting you in. You hesitated for second standing at the door, "Baby please, need you right now."

He gave you a pleading look. You stepped forward into his arms as they wrapped tightly around you.

"You know your my girl right?" He whispered into your ear, "I want you to be my girl, no one else's."

You pulled back untucking your head from his chest to look at him, you gave him a soft smile, kissing his lips," I know Daws, I know."

"Now, tell me what happened?" You asked giving him a pleading look.

"Fucking Aho," He said shaking his head recalling his words," He was chirping your brothers but when he brought you into it I kinda lost it," He admitted knowing that it wasn't the best idea he's had in awhile.

"What did he say?" You asked curiously.

"He said he was gonna take you for a spin next and he was sure you'd slut yourself out to any guy in the league."

Your eyes rolled, "Well I'm sure he learned his lesson."

Dawson let out a soft chuckle, leaning down meeting your lips once more," That's my girl."

"Only your's Daws, only your's," You smiled up at him.

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Inbox is open! request prompts are in navigation!

[babydollmarauders]

CHRISTMAS COOKIES — DAWSON MERCER

dawson mercer x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which baking christmas cookies with her boyfriend leads to y/n getting sticky

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, p in v (unprotected), nipple play, food play. (2.5k words)

notes: welcome to day 5 of the 12 days of kinkmas! i wrote this smut in…october! i tried something a bit different with this one, i hope y’all enjoy it!

“i’m gonna start on the wet ingredients, you think you can handle the dry ones?” i survey the countertop as i speak, containers of flour, sugar, and the likes all spread across the marble counter.

“yeah, i can do that.” Dawson nods, seeming confident, and i press a quick kiss to his cheek before i retreat to the mixer on the other side of the counter.

“uh… what’s the dry ingredients?” my boyfriend questions, making me turn back to see him staring at the ingredients with bewilderment. “they all seem dry to me.”

his head snaps up at the sound of my giggle, pasting a confused smile on his face.

“okay, how about i make the cookie dough, and you make the icing?” i suggest, and his shoulders slump in relief, nodding his head.

“that, i can handle.” he grins, switching places with me so he’s by the standing mixer.

i can use the hand mixer for the wet ingredients of the cookies, but i’m not sure i trust Dawson to not make a mess of the icing with the hand mixer.

we work in tandem, a gentle flow of holiday music pouring out from the alexa in the living room as we do our jobs.

it’s mainly silent between us, both focused on our own tasks; the only words being those of asking each other to hand the other something.

i’m nearly done rolling out the dough when Dawson comes over, proudly grasping the mixing bowl of icing. his hands are covered in powdered sugar, a wide, prideful smile on his face.

“i’m done!” he states, setting the bowl on the counter beside me so i can see.

“it looks great! good job, babe!” i cheer, transferring the dough onto a cookie sheet before popping it in the fridge to chill.

i turn back to my boyfriend, who stands at the counter, playing with leftover flour that i had sprinkled down to keep the dough from sticking to the countertops.

he perks up as i walk back over to him, a wet washcloth grasped in my hands to clean up the mess. the ingredients already taken care of, due to my tidy tendency of putting them away as i work.

“now what?” he asks me, watching as i wipe off the counter.

“well, the dough has to chill for at least an hour.” i explain, “so we can do whatever you want.”

a spark ignites in his eyes, and i know i should’ve chosen my words more carefully.

“whatever i want?” he repeats, taking a step forward. the front of his body presses against mine, his head dipping down to capture my lips with his.

he tastes sweet and sugary, like the icing he just made. his hands snake around to rest on my butt, and when he pulls his lips from mine, he chuckles.

“what are you laughing about?” i raise a brow, and when he brings his hands up to show them to me, they’re still covered in powdered sugar and flour. “oh my god!”

a lighthearted gasp escapes my lips, twisting and contorting my body to try and see my ass. when i do, i find two white powdered handprints on my black leggings.

“oh, you asshole!” i huff, turning back to glare at him as he now washes his hands at the sink, but he just laughs, knowing i don’t mean it. “you did that on purpose!”

“so what if i did?” he teases, watching me try and swat the white powder from the fabric.

i roll my eyes when i see that it’s only spreading it rather than getting rid of it.

“now i’ve gotta wash these.” i push the leggings down my legs, stepping out of them and leaving me in Dawson’s oversized t-shirt.

crumpling the black pants up in my hands, i make my way to the laundry room, stuffing them in the washer to join the other clothes that have sat in there far too long, and add detergent before pressing start.

“you know, that was mean!” i call out as i walk back to the kitchen. “you know those were my last clean pair.”

Dawson is leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest and a lopsided smirk on his face.

“i’m sorry.” he feigns a pout, uncrossing his arms in order to let his hands grip my sides, pulling me flush against him. “i guess i’ll have to make it up to you.”

“and how do you plan on doing that?” my hands lay flat against his chest, my head craned to peer up at him. my tone is sultry and slow, and the way he looks down at me, with eyes full of lust, i think i know exactly what he has planned.

he spins us around, caging me against the counter, while his lips meet mine. the once sweet and soft kiss that we shared just moments ago is gone, replaced by one of passion and desire. his tongue flicks across my bottom lip, coercing me into opening them, his tongue slipping through to mingle with mine.

his now clean hands slide down my hips, gripping my ass harshly and pulling my hips against his. a throaty moan is pulled from me as i feel his quickly hardening erection against my core, grinding against him in a steady pace.

i’m abruptly swept off my feet, deposited onto the counter without our kiss ever breaking. my body shivers, my back arching at the cold marble against my heated skin. my legs wrap around his waist, using them to pull him even closer against me, if even possible.

“i need you.” i breathe against his lips, and he nods, tilting chin forward to kiss me again.

his hands begin playing with the hem of my t-shirt, slipping underneath. his hands drag up my torso, brushing along the underside of my breasts before he cups beneath them.

he pulls his lips away, our heavy breaths mingling. pulling off my top, he leaves me in nothing but my cotton panties. his eyes lock on my breasts, my nipples stiff and peaked against the cold December air that the open living room window brings in.

“close your eyes.” he whispers, his breath fanning across the side of my face as he leans forward.

i follow his command, squeezing my eyes shut. my heart races in wonder and confusion, especially when i hear a clatter and screech of metal against the counter.

i open my mouth, about to question his actions, when i’m cut off by something cold and thick spread across my nipples. my breath hitches in my throat, my eyes flying open to gauge his actions.

Dawson stands between my spread legs, his index finger covered in icing, and when i peek down at my chest, i find icing dripping down my breasts.

“oh.” my teeth sink into my bottom lip as i watch him smirk. his eyes lock with mine, staring back at me as he slowly descends to my chest, his tongue darting out.

he licks up my left breast, following the path of dripping icing until he reaches my nipple. my chest heaves as he reaches his desired destination, his lips closing around the stiff peaks, sucking it into his mouth. his tongue swirls around it, collecting the icing.

“oh.” my hand cups the back of his neck, gripping his hair to ground myself amongst the immense pleasure. shockwaves wrack my body, my back arching and my jaw going slack as my head tilts back, my eyes squeezing shut.

he pulls off with a pop, his fingers replacing his lips while he switches to my other breast. while one nipple is pinched and circled by his thumb, the other is licked and drawn into his mouth.

once he’s sucked all the icing off, his hand splays across my chest, pushing me down onto the counter. he dips his finger back into the icing, spreading a line up my torso before dipping in again and slathering it on my nipples once more.

he stares into my eyes, pressing his finger to my lips, and i part them, allowing the digit to push against my tongue. remaining eye contact, i close my lips around him, sucking and swirling my tongue around, licking his finger clean from the icing.

Dawson lets out a groan, his hips rolling against mine in the heat of the moment, prior to pulling his hand away.

he dips down again, pressing a kiss to my lower stomach before letting his tongue drag up my abdomen, licking up the icing. my body tenses as he does so, leaving behind a trail of sticky saliva in his wake. as he reaches my cleavage, he presses open mouthed kisses up my sternum before trailing off towards my left nipple. he licks around it, swirling his tongue and sucking.

my hand flies up to grip the edge of the countertop above my head, the other tangling in his fluffy dark blonde tresses. a cry of pleasure echoes throughout the kitchen, and it takes me a second to even realize it’s my sound.

he kisses his way across to my other breast, repeating the process as his fingers pinch and pull on the hardened peak that his lips just abandoned.

a knot forms in my stomach, tangling and twisting as he goes. my toes curl, my brows furrowing and my back arching as chin tilts up towards the ceiling. a strangled moan falls from my lips, my body convulsing slightly as my orgasm washes over me.

at my heavy breathing and high pitched whimpers, Dawson pulls away, a smirk on his lips as he looks down at me in my blissed state.

“did you just…?” he trails off, chuckling as i nod. “i didn’t know you could do that.”

“me neither.” i shudder, sitting up.

my skin feels tacky from the icing, but i push that thought to the side, cupping the nape of his neck with both hands. i pull him forward, crashing my lips against his.

“that was so fucking hot.” he mutters into the kiss, momentarily getting distracted when i begin to tug his shirt up.

“i want you to fuck me.”

at my words, he pulls away, his hands pulling his shirt over his head before he pulls me in for another kiss. his thumbs hook into the sides of my panties and i lean back on my hands, lifting my hips and allowing him to pull the cotton fabric down my legs.

the cold air hits against my slick heat, resulting in shivers across my body, making Dawson chuckle lowly.

“so pretty,” he compliments, lazily dragging the back of his knuckles down my stomach. “all naked for me.”

his fingers find my core, sliding through my cum. his eyes find mine, holding the contact as he brings his fingers up to his lips, sucking them clean.

i moan at the sight, tugging at his jeans. my fingers fumble with his button and his hands shoo mine away, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping, tugging his pants and boxers down his legs and stepping out.

his dick springs up, slapping against his abdomen, and my pussy clenches at the sight. his tip is red and swollen, a bead of pre-cum leaking out.

i reach forward, gently grasping the base, and giving it a light tug.

“don’t be a tease, baby.” he gruffs out, hands gripping my waist as he yanks me off the counter.

i let go in surprise and he spins me around, pushing me down and bending me over the counter. he wastes no time in running his cock through the wetness of my folds, groaning at the feeling. i can feel his dick prod at my entrance as he lines up, sliding in easily, and my breath catches as he fills me up.

“fuck, you’re so perfect.” he grunts, bottoming out inside of me. one of my hands splays flat on the counter, the other reaching down to my hip, clawing his hand away in order to hold it in mine.

“please move.” i whisper, barely audible over the christmas music that still drifts throughout the kitchen.

Dawson leans forward, swiping my hair to the side and over my shoulder. his bare chest presses against my back as he leaves wet kisses to the back of my neck, his hips snapping as he begins to thrust.

he brings our hands to the countertop, laying my palm flat with his resting on top of it, while his other hand snakes around the front of to gently rub my clit.

an outward gasp drops from my parted lips, pushing my hips back to meet him.

the more time passes, the harder his thrusts get, until my hips are hitting the edge of the counter with each stroke, surely getting bruised in the process.

“shit, i don’t know if i’m gonna last.” his voice is tight, words sounding as though spoken through clenched teeth, and i nod in agreement.

“i’m so close, Daws!” in contrast to the last time i spoke, i’m practically yelling now, my climax building with each stroke and each circular rub of my clit.

my legs feel close to giving out, my back arching to hit a new angle. his thrusts are turning sloppy, the rhythm leaving, and i feel his abs flex against my back, letting me know he’s close.

his finger speeds up, pushing me closer and closer until the edge, until finally the pleasure becomes too much. my legs begin to shake, my walls tightening around him, hitting my orgasm and spurring on his.

Dawson continues fucking me through our releases, fucking his cum deeper into me as he does so. once i’ve come down from my high, i reach back, pushing him away by the hip, and he stops, his heavy breaths mixing with mine as i spin around to face him.

he’s got a small smile as he pants, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against his chest. i lay my head against him, listening to his heart pound, slowly but surely evening back out to its normal pace.

i mentally cringe at a realization. he’s supposed to bring these cookies tomorrow during morning skate before the game against the Flyers.

“well, i think we might have to make more icing.” i joke, gaining a laugh from my boyfriend.

“there’s still plenty!” he remarks, looking down at me with a mischievous grin.

“Dawson, that is so unsanitary! we can’t give the team christmas cookies made with icing that your hands were in!” he opens his mouth as though to argue with me but i cut him off before he can start. “your hands, which had touched my boobs!”

a look of possession dawns across his face and he nods, “you’re right, they’re not inadvertently tasting you.”

“oh gross, babe!” i chuckle, pulling away from him. my chest peels from his, still sticky from the icing, and i cringe.

“i need a shower.”

Dawson scoffs as i walk away, heading towards our bedroom, and i’m almost there when i look over my shoulder.

“you coming?” i call out. i can’t hold back my giggle when i hear his footsteps slapping against the tile and then hardwood, catching up with me.

he raises an eyebrow, pointing back towards our christmas tree in the living room as he speaks.

“if i ever say no to that question, i want you to choke me with that garland.”

[lfghughes]

something fluffy w/ dawson

maybe he loses a game & goes to her apartment after and he’s sad and so sweet & just wants to be comforted. he calls her baby a lot & asks to spend the night & idk

a/n: strayed just a little and turned into it something a little different but hope you like it!!

You didn’t let yourself fall too deep into this. If anything you reminded yourself constantly that what was going on between you and Dawson was simply just friends hooking up. Even if you felt like some of the things he did and said were borderline boyfriend territory. But boys were weird like that and you weren’t going to let yourself get delusional and get your hopes up.

Yet you had just spent your night on the couch watching his game and not too long after the game ended (and it didn’t end well) you had gotten a text asking if he could come over. Even though you didn’t want to get attached you weren’t going to tell him no especially when you knew he was having a rough night.

When the knock came on your door you went and opened it “Hey” he let out a small breath as soon as he saw you and before you could even return the hey his hands were on your face, pulling you in for a kiss. You reminded yourself this was why he came over, it’s not like he wanted to sit here and talk about his feelings. So you continued the kiss, pulling him into your place.

Somehow you both had ended up on the couch, you on his lap as his lips kept moving against yours. He pulled away slowly from you, his thumb brushing your cheek “I missed you tonight, baby.” The butterflies in your stomach bursted as he said this and there it was that small piece of hoping rising up. “I watched your game, sorry about how it ended.” You told him but instead of looking upset a small smile creeped onto his lips.

“You watched my game?” He asked and a small blush grew on your cheeks. “I usually watch them.” You admitted to him and it was like his smile couldn’t grow wider. “How about next time you come to the actual game?” That was definitely a normal friendly invite from him you reminded yourself. “You want me to go to your next game?”

“Yeah, the boys have been wanting to meet you too so it’ll be perfect. Plus of course I want my girl at my game.” You caught the nervous look that appeared on his face for only a few seconds before he quickly changed it back to normal. “Your girl?” You asked, a small smile playing on your lips. This time it was his turn to turn slightly pink.

“Uh yeah, if that’s okay. I know we haven’t really talked about what we were but I don’t know it kind of feels like we’re together..and I really like you and yeah I’m going to stop babbl—“ You didn’t let him finish his sentence before pressing your lips to his. Both of you stayed like that for a couple of minutes. This was happening for real and you weren’t overthinking everything that had happened since the night you two met.

Dawson slowly pulled away “Is it okay if I spend the night?” He asked and you didn’t even think twice about his question. “You don’t even have to ask that. You can spend as many nights here as you want.” With your words a smile grew on his lips as he returned right back to kissing you. Yeah, you were definitely enjoying the whole boyfriend thing.

[lam-ila]

Baseball and Love || Dawson Mercer

Summary: Four times you watched baseball at home and one time you watched in person.

Word Count: 1,906

Warnings: one scene occurring during quarantine

please let me know if you find more that i should add

NHL Masterlist

a/n: here’s my 2024 summer fic exchange for @hischier-papaya! i hope you like it! as always, huge thank you and shout out to @wyattjohnston for hosting the fic exchange! you’re amazing!!

this is gender neutral. hope you enjoy this! feedback is appreciated

LIKES ARE GREAT, REBLOGS ARE BETTER ♡

—————

1. The First Time

Every summer, since before you were born, your parents hosted a summer barbecue at your house. Eight year old you was running around with other kids your age, screaming with joy as you played tag. Early on into your second round of tag, you were plucked out of the game by your parents to meet a new friend.

“Sweetheart, this is Dawson,” one of your parents explained to you. Your eyes were wide with intrigue as your mouth twitched into a small smile at the sight of a new friend, so you weren’t sure which one of your parents was talking to you.

“Hi,” you said to him. You looked over your shoulder to the game of tag still going on behind you. Looking back at Dawson, you continued “Do you wanna join our game?”

“Yeah!” Dawson exclaimed, looking up at his parents for a nod of approval before running off after you.

After many rounds of tag and a few other games, you and your new friend were completely tired out. Luckily for you, it was perfect timing as the Reds game was just staring to begin. You plopped yourself down on the floor in front of the tv where the game was playing. Since Dawson wasn’t introduced to anyone besides you, he followed you to the tv and sat down right next to you.

“Who are you rooting for?” Dawson asked, looking at you looking at the tv.

“The Reds," you answered, still looking at the tv. “My dad and grandpa like them, so I do too.”

“Cool,” Dawson followed your eyes back to the tv, staying silent for a bit before asking “Do you want some lemonade? I’m gonna get some for myself.”

—————

2. The Time at a Sleepover

Sleepovers with Dawson were a common occurrence and at these sleepovers, baseball was watched whenever the Reds were playing. After dinner, you and Dawson spent the hour before the game begun reassembling the tv room and turning it into a fort. Blankets were laid across and above chairs borrowed from the dining room and pillows were placed on the carpet beneath the temporary shelter.

“I heard there’s a rumour going around that we’re dating.” Dawson casually mentioned while snacking on the bowl of popcorn resting in between you two.

“Ew that’s gross, Daws,” you exclaimed, scrunching your face in disgust. “We’ve known each other since we were eight. That’s like, five years.”

“Yeah…” Dawson trailed off, looking at you while your eyes were glued to the game. “That’s gross.” He slightly shook his head, mentally shoving his ever growing crush on you deeper in his mind.

—————

3. The Time Before He Got Drafted

Quarantine sucked. Everyone knew that. Your last year of high school was cut short, the NHL season was paused until further notice, and worst of all, you couldn’t see Dawson. However, despite not being able to see each other in person, you and Dawson were constantly on the on a call together. One night, a little over a week away from the 2020 NHL draft, you and Dawson were on a call together, as per usual, and both watching the Reds game on either side of the call.

Your conversation consisted mostly of comments about the game, until Dawson spoke up.

“The NHL draft is coming up. Would you wanna join my family’s bubble to be at my place with me during it?” Dawson wondered.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I am a little nervous though. What if I don’t get drafted?” You immediately answered without question.

“Dawson Mercer,” you started, lowering the volume of your tv so there wasn’t much background noise. “listen to me when I say this: you are going to get drafted. You’re such a crazy talented player that it’s impossible for you to go undrafted. Any team who doesn't see that is simply stupid.”

“Thanks, it really means a lot.” He breathed as he felt a rush of warmth flush to his cheeks. He giddily smiled as he thought about how sweet your affirmation was.

“Also, I’m totally buying all of the merch of whatever team you’re getting drafted to.” Your statement broke Dawson’s train of thought as he laughed. “I’m gonna be so broke, but I’ll take being broke if it means supporting you.”

—————

4. The Time You Surprised Him

About half of Dawson’s third NHL season passed by without you being able to go to one of his games due to your schedule. You felt awful for it, but Dawson reassured you over and over again that it was okay, but you could tell he was still a little upset that you had yet to make it. Unbeknownst to him, you were flying over to New Jersey to watch him play and to spend a few days with him.

You planned everything with Jesper and Nicole, having them pick you up from the airport and driving you over to the game, keeping your bag in their car, so Dawson wouldn’t suspect a thing.

You went over to the Prudential Center and waited with Nicole and the other WAGS for the team to see everyone before the game started. It felt weird, but yet nice, for you to be waiting with the WAGS since you and Dawson weren’t together, but you pushed that aside, anticipating for Dawson’s excitement over seeing you for the first time in a while.

You straightened as the team began to come out, eyes widening as you spotted Dawson talking to Jesper. You began to smile as you watched the two of them walk towards you and Nicole.

“Hey Nicole, how are you do-” Dawson began before his jaw dropped at the sight of you standing next to Nicole. “What are you- how are you- hi.” He engulfed you in a breathtakingly tight hug.

“Hi Daws,” you greeted him back, still holding each other.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” he stated after pulling away.

“That’s because we planned to surprise you.” You briefly motioned over to Jesper and Nicole. “So, uh, surprise?”

Dawson turned over to face his teammate saying “You were in on this?” before bringing him into a bro-hug. “Thank you for bringing my best friend here.”

“Of course man.” Jesper smiled at the sight of Dawson being over the moon excited that you were standing in front of him.

The game ended with the Devils winning and Dawson scoring one of the goals, pointing up to were you were sitting with the WAGS as his celly, showing you that he dedicated his goal to you.

Once you saw Dawson after the game, you grabbed him into another hug whispering “I’m so so proud of you” into his hair.

You walked over to Jesper and Nicole’s car, grabbing your bag out of the trunk and placing it into Dawson’s trunk before following him into his car and making your way to his apartment.

After settling into his apartment, you watched as Dawson crashed onto his bed, turning on the tv in the process to the Reds game still going on. They were in Los Angeles to play the Dodgers meaning about half of the game was still left to play. You turned your head to the tv, smiling at his urgency to put on your favourite baseball team’s game. Looking back at Dawson, you saw him meet your eyes and extend his arms towards you while doing grabby hands, making you laugh.

“You know, you really do act like a child sometimes,” you teased.

“Oh, just get in my arms. I want cuddles,” he demanded, making you laugh.

You laid in his arms while watching the game for about an inning and a half before you start to feel the effects of travelling, going to Dawson's hockey game, and staying up late to watch a baseball game all in one day. You’re fighting the heaviness of your eyelids as your head lulled to the side, making you look away from the game on the tv.

Dawson lowered the volume and pressed a tentative kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment as he whispered “Goodnight”.

You nuzzled your face further into his body, finding yourself placing a kiss to the bottom of his neck, close to his collarbone.

“Night Daws,” you mumble before accepting the sleep your body so desperately needs.

—————

+1. The Time He Surprised You

Despite being a big Reds fan, you had never been to a Reds game. That was something Dawson planned to change as he bought two tickets to a game for you two to go to during his offseason.

“Dawson, can you please tell me where you’re going?” you pestered in the passenger seat of Dawson’s car as he drove you to an unknown location.

��Nope,” Dawson smirked while responding. “you’ll see when we get there.”

“Ugh, fine," You rolled your head back against your seat’s head rest. “Wait, is that the Reds’ stadium?” You perked up, your face pressed up to the window.

“Mhm,” Dawson confirmed, “and we have two tickets to their game today.”

“Really?” you exclaimed. “Oh my gosh, thank you Dawson! I am so going to hug you when we get there.”

And you kept your promise, quickly unbuckling your seatbelt when the car was parked and rushing to the driver’s side of the car to give him the biggest and tightest hug you’ve ever given him.

Once inside the stadium, you found your seats and admired the very close up view, taking some pictures to send to your parents. You and Dawson then decided to get food before the game started, so you made your way to one of the food stands, hand in hand to avoid getting separated.

"Hey Daws?” you asked once standing in line, still hand in hand with him. “How much were the tickets?"

"That’s nothing of your concern," he asserted.

"But I want to pay you back."

"Not gonna happen."

"Okay, well I'll pay for food."

"You could pay me back by being my partner." Dawson started the sentence confidently and very quietly mumbled the last three words.

“Hm?” you hummed, hinting at him to repeat what he said.

“Oh, uh…” He let go of your hand, using his now empty hand to awkwardly scratch at his head. “Sure, you can pay for food.”

After eating, you two sat at your seats, waiting for the game to start.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” you said, your body twisted so that you were facing Dawson.

“Ah, no need to thank me,” Dawson waved your appreciation off. “It was about time I brought you to a Reds game.”

“But why’d you do it?” you asked, intrigued by what his answer would be.

“ ‘Cause you’re my best friend.”

“Yeah sure, everyone gets their best friend front row seats to their favourite baseball team,” you sarcastically remarked.

“Okay, you want the full answer?” You nodded in response, all your attention focused on him. “I like you, as in, romantically. I have since we were twelve.” Dawson stated in a matter of fact tone.

“You do?”

“Yeah, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. Nothing has to change.”

“Nah, I’d like for things to change because I like you too.” You laughed slightly as his reaction to you saying that, his face visibly brightening with excitement.

“Good because I’m going to kiss you now.”

You and Dawson leaned into each other, meeting in the middle and pressing a kiss to each other’s lips that expressed everything that’s been unsaid since you first met.

——————————

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[jackhues]

putting the word "my" in front of their name when calling for them with dawson mercer 🤍🤍

aww i hope you like this!

you sung along to your playlist, going through your morning skincare routine.

you were hungry, and so dawson had gone ahead to make breakfast for you two while you got up and ready.

as you washed your face, you thought you heard something, but you couldn't be sure. turning the music down, and listening, you heard it again.

"c'mon, my y/n!" dawson called out. "breakfast is ready love."

you smiled giddily to yourself at dawson's way of calling you. the way he added my to your name made you melt. as if your name was already a compliment.

"hi," you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"good morning," he smiled, placing a few pancakes in a plate. "c'mon, eat up. we've got a busy day ahead of us."

it was true. you two needed to go furniture shopping and put together a desk, but it was all okay.

because you were his. and that made everything seem a little bit better.

---

send a ❄️, player + prompt

[prettytoxicrevolver]

New Jersey Devils

How to Navigate:

❤ Heart = Fluff  ★ Star = Taylor Swift Song Fic  ⬥ Diamond = My Favorite Italics = No Work Posted Currently

Jack Hughes 

Luke Hughes 

Nico Hischier

Dawson Mercer

[puck-luck]

one bed trope by design | dawson mercer

warnings: fwb but unspokenly more, eldest daughter vibes in the first paragraph, teasing & annoying your partner, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, heavyyyy making out, dirty talk (it’s pretty sweet, actually), possessive!dawson, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, cockwarming, whimpering man (slay), begging (only a little), mentions/allusions to consensual somnophilia, and a little bit of a fixation on spit (as i am wont to do) pairing: dawson mercer x reader summary: the one when dawson comes over to build a bedframe for your guest room, demands multiple rewards,  and pouts when you try to make him test it out alone. he ends up getting everything he wanted, though. wc: 4636

You have a bone to pick with anyone who writes furniture-building instruction manuals. After all the years of “building things” (holding flashlights, standing aimlessly for support, fetching beers) with your dad, you would think that you’d be able to build a bedframe. You would think that you could read the directions, screw in some nails, glue some pegs into place, and your guest room would be all set. In another world, you’re flying through this process and the bed’s already done. Here, in this world, the real world, all you’ve done is sort all of your supplies and read the first page of directions and it’s been shit. The wording is unclear, the pictures don’t make any sense, the bags of supplies aren’t clearly labeled in conjunction with the guide in the manual, and you’re at your wits end.

So you call Daws. 

Your best friend in the world, Dawson Mercer, has always been skilled with his hands. Never mind the double entendre, you’ve seen how deftly Daws can handle a stick and a puck, so he is surely able to handle a screwdriver and a drill. 

In fact, continuing with the entendres, you know Dawson can handle a drill. On top of being your best friend in the world, you two had started hooking up in his second season at New Jersey, after you’d gotten a job in New York City and relocated. With just thirty minutes between you two and a lot of pent up feelings on both sides, it was only a matter of time until one of you broke and jumped the other. It ended up being him, but it was your fault.

It was a late night and you’d been up working on a proposal for your boss. It was well past midnight and you had work the following day, but you were in a groove and you couldn’t stop until the task was done. It had already been a tough day and you started to feel better when your work began to flow, but then you forgot a word and could not find it no matter what thesaurus you used or what questions you googled. You knew it was the perfect word for this proposal and it sounded so intelligent in your head, but you could not fucking remember it. It might’ve been the sleep deprivation of it all, but this sent you over the edge and before you knew it, you were calling Dawson and tearfully explaining your situation. He couldn’t understand you through the hysteria and was at your door as soon as possible, scooping you up and taking your computer away. You had explained everything again through your tears and he had held you in his arms, tucking your head away in his neck so you could hide from the world. When your breath evened out, Daws had registered the flutter of your eyelashes against his pulse and couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. It had been sweet and it was a long time coming. Things escalated that night about as far as you could go for the first time, with Dawson treating you like something that would break if he held you too tightly or looked at you too long. You both were shy but cared so much for each other that it just felt right.

You hadn’t defined it in the year since, but you know and Dawson knows that there is something special between you. You’re best friends and maybe, one day, you’d both be ready to commit to more.

For now, though, Dawson is the guy who’s going to sit in your guest bedroom and build your guest bed and maybe you’ll repay him if you felt like it.

Dawson comes over as soon as you call and walks into your apartment sopping wet. When he walks into your space, he shakes like a wet dog and you shriek. He gives you a toothy grin, your heart fluttering with fondness like it always does when you see the space between his teeth. “It’s raining out there,” he says unnecessarily, walking over to plant a quick kiss on your lips. “Where’s this bed you need your big, strong man to build, baby?”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Big, strong man,” you mock. “Where’s that guy? I don’t see a big, strong man here.”

Daws pinches your hip for your comment, but it doesn’t really hurt.

“I’m turning my office into a guest bedroom,” you continue. You lean up and give Daws another little peck. “The bed is in there.” You reach around and give him a pat on the butt. “Go on, get in there.”

“You’re not going to help me?” Dawson calls over his shoulder, teasing you as he walks down the hall towards his daunting task. 

“Darling, you’ll just get distracted by me,” you reply. “I’ll be in here if you need me.” You take a seat on your couch and pick up the book you’ve been reading. You drape a blanket over your legs and lean back against the arm of the sofa, finding your bookmark and opening the book to that page. 

You can hear the rain growing heavier as you continue to read, as well as the sounds of Dawson putting the new bedframe together. He’s making quick work of it and takes a break at his self-proclaimed halfway point. He wanders into the living room and washes his hands in your kitchen sink before joining you on the couch. He sneaks under the blanket and lays between your legs, resting his head on your stomach. His hand reaches up, comes out from under the blanket, and rests on your chest. He palms your breast, just holding the weight of it in his hand. You place your bookmark and close your book, setting it down on the coffee table to your left. You lift the blanket and make eye contact with Dawson. You can’t help but think of your friend’s cat from university, who used to cuddle on your lap under the blanket just like this.

“Hi,” Dawson greets, smiling wide.

“Hi, sweet,” you reply and card your fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. “Have you given up on that bed yet? It’s impossible, isn’t it?”

“Mmm, no,” Dawson hums, purring like your friend’s cat used to when you pet him. He pushes into your hand just the same. “Just taking a break with my favorite girl.”

“Sweet talker,” you tease. Your hand moves to pinch his cheek like a grandmother would. “You’re trying to get in good with me, huh?”

“You always assume I’ve got an ulterior motive,” Dawson complains. “Maybe I just want to hang out with you.”

You give him an unimpressed look with a tilt of your head. 

Dawson snickers quietly, burying his head in your stomach. “No, you’re right.” He kisses your tummy, just next to your belly button. “I always have an ulterior motive.”

You spread your legs a little wider, allowing Dawson to fit his shoulders between your thighs comfortably. “What do you have in mind?”

“A snack,” Dawson replies in a cheeky voice, the smirk evident in his tone before he ghosts a fingertip under the hemline of your sleep shorts. 

Because you’re a brat, you twist away from Daws. You move to get up from the couch. “Shall I make you something?” You ask. 

Daws holds you down with his full weight, wrapping his arms around you until you’re effectively immobilized. You can’t see him anymore, having dropped the blanket when you moved to get up. “No,” he whines, drawing out the word and pulling you to him. He bites the side of your hip gently through your shorts. “Stay here, you’ve got what I need.”

“What you need,” you repeat, smiling to yourself. This is the side of Dawson that rarely anyone gets to see, even though he’s a happy-go-lucky guy most of the time. No one gets to see Dawson all whiny and eager to please, happy to get himself off by just getting his mouth on you. He’s sated like this, happy to stay between your legs for hours and make you come time after time, until you’re oversensitive and pushing him away. You’re happy to let him indulge most of the time, but that bed is still only halfway built. “Can you make it quick?” You ask. “Need you to finish building that bed for me.”

Dawson presses a kiss to your core, making you shiver. He hums in agreement. “Can we christen it after I’m done?”

You giggle and swat the back of his head under the blanket. “You wish.”

Dawson hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts and drags them down, removing them delicately and placing them on the ground next to him. He kisses down your leg as he does it and it’s even more arousing than it normally is, given that you can’t see him under the blanket and can barely guess his next move. “I do wish,” he agrees before moving onto your panties. “Can I earn it?”

“You can sleep in there by yourself and let me know how it is, since all my guests will be on their lonesome,” you say. You inhale sharply when Dawson dives in and flicks your clit with his tongue. “I think that would be more effective.”

Dawson bites the side of your thigh sharply and makes you jump. “Don’t wanna sleep alone,” he complains. “You’re mean to me.” He licks over your folds again, shifting to use both hands to spread you open so he can begin to eat you out properly.

“Fuck, Daws,” you groan, throwing your head back. You take a breath before continuing. “If I’m so mean to you, why am I letting you eat your snack? I could tell you no at any moment and make you go back to the guest room and work some more before kicking you out of my apartment and sending you home.”

“You’re talking a lot for someone who’s supposed to be enjoying herself,” Dawson mutters. You can hear his pout, not needing to see it to know that he’s annoyed that he hasn’t rendered you speechless. 

“Maybe you need to do better,” you breathe out, grinding down on the fingers that are slowly tracing your entrance, begging for them to enter you without actually saying it.

Dawson growls at that, taking it like a challenge and dipping his fingers into you and flicking his tongue against your clit quickly, giving everything he can to bring you to your peak.

You moan, reaching under the blanket to thread your fingers in Dawson’s hair. You tug at it and he moans, the vibrations making you shiver and bringing you just that much closer to your orgasm. “Dawsy,” you breathe out. “More.”

“Not much more to give, baby,” Dawson mumbles against your pussy, but pistons his fingers into you more quickly. “Giving you all I’ve got right now. Trying my best to make you feel good, sweet girl.”

“Feels so good,” you reassure him. “Need something else, need a little more.”

Dawson adds another finger, stretching you. He reaches up and pulling the blanket down so he’s not covered anymore. You can see your wetness dripping down his fingers and onto his wrist as he continues to move them inside you. You grip his hair as he brings his other thumb to your clit, rubbing in rapid circles. He spreads his fingers and leans in, doing his best to lick between them and get his tongue inside you. He looks up through his eyelashes at you when he does it and it’s that image, his wide eyes filled with so much admiration for you and determination to prove that he can make you feel so, so good, that makes you clench down and let your release wash over you. 

Dawson continues to thrust his fingers into you through your climax, mouthing over your clit and suckling at it until you’re squirming and panting. You pull him up your body by his hair, needing his mouth on yours. You keen into his mouth as he speeds his fingers up again. “Daws,” you gasp.

“Baby,” he replies, then kisses you again. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you two make out, movements lazy. He continues to finger you through it, unwilling (maybe even unable) to pull out of your wet heat just yet. He’s laying on top of you at this point and the weight of him is wonderful, always comforting you like nothing else could.

You kiss for what feels like ages, just feeling each other. Dawson grinds his hips against your leg, pressing his hardness into you, but making no move to do anything about it. It’s lovely, this moment, and comfortable like you two had been in love for years and you could do this every day. In the least cliché way, you knew that Dawson was your soulmate, the person you were meant to find in any universe at any time. He wasn’t yours, but he was. 

“Love you, Dawsy,” you tell him between kisses. 

He hums in agreement.

“Can you go finish building my bed now?” You ask, your one-track mind itching to get Dawson back on task. You really wanted that bed to be finished today, just so you didn’t have to think about it anymore.

Dawson pulls away and glares down at you. “Here I am, making out with you with my fingers inside your pretty pussy, and you’re going to make me work?” He demands. 

You giggle, leaning up to plant a wet kiss, a real smacker, on his cheek. “Yeah,” you say, shit eating grin on your face when you settle back onto the couch cushions. “Go on.”

Reluctantly, Dawson slides his fingers out of you and gets off the couch, licking his fingers clean and adjusting himself in his sweatpants. “So mean,” he reminds you with a cutting glance before he disappears back down the hallway and into the guest room.

You return to your book. “Holler when you’re done!” You yell to Dawson. 

“I don’t know why I ever do anything for you,” Dawson replies, voice floating down the hall with ire. 

You laugh out loud, loud enough for him to hear, and get comfortable with your book. You read for probably another hour before Dawson summons you to the guest room to inspect his handiwork.

When you round the doorway, Dawson’s eyes grow wide, noticing that you never put your panties or shorts back on. He’s standing next to the bed as you approach and he licks his lips. “You’re sure we can’t christen my handiwork?” He asks again.

“No,” you insist. “Merc, you already got what you needed.” You roll your eyes and flip the bird at your best friend, chastising him for being insufferable in his desire for you. “You’re such a horndog.”

Dawson shrugs. “Can you blame me? I’ve seen you how beautiful you are naked, I’ve heard how pretty you sound when I’m fucking you, and I’ve been loving you since forever. Just because we’re not dating doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to ask. You’re lucky I ask because you know I could pick you up and take you, and you’d love it”

“Do you want me to call you a wah-mbulance?” You retort, folding your arms over your chest. You glare at him with an eyeful of reproach, but he’s right. He’s taken you like that before and it’s been incredible, something you’ll even ask him for on occasion.

“Want you to let me fuck you,” he replies in the same tone, mirroring your actions.

You two stare at each other before bursting out in laughter. You walk over and loop your arms around Dawson’s neck, pressing your body against his and giving him a chaste kiss. His hands rest on your hips, holding you tightly. He kisses you again.

“Go to bed, Merc,” you say when you finally pull away. You step back. “Let me know how the bed feels.”

Dawson bids you goodnight and  turns around. You walk to the door. You leave the room and make it all the way to your bedroom before you hear a crash and rush back in.

Dawson is smiling, proud of himself as you take in the lopsided bed. One of the legs of the frame has been hastily removed and if you’re not mistaken, you can see it peeking out from where Dawson’s arms are crossed behind his back. “Oh no,” Dawson says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “It broke. I guess I have to sleep with you.”

Your mouth drops open in disbelief and you let out a laugh. “Dawson!” You exclaim, still giggling. “What’s the matter with you?”

Dawson shrugs. “Well, I can’t sleep on a broken bed,” he tells you. “That would be unsafe.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t want that.” You play along, a small smile still written across your face. 

Dawson takes a step forward and bats his eyelashes at you. “I guess I have to sleep in yours.”

“You’re insatiable,” you tell him. You turn on your heel and leave the room, listening for the clatter of the leg of the bed before Dawson’s footsteps trail after you. Both sounds come, just as you expected, and Dawson’s hands find your hips again. He walks with you, pressed along your back, lips attached to the back of your neck. 

“I want you,” he teases, his voice light and melodic in your ear. He reaches his hand up and traces your neck. “Don’t I get a reward for building furniture for you?”

“You already got a snack.”

“Ugh, but then you took it away from me after I made you come,” he complains. “And you’re teasing me, not putting your panties back on before checking my work. It’s a little slutty, baby. Is that what you wear for all the people that come to work in your house?”

Now in your bedroom, Dawson turns you around and walks you back until your knees hit the edge of your bed. You fall down onto the mattress and bring Dawson down with you. He reaches up your shirt and grabs a handful of your tit, gripping it in a way that directly contrasts how he was just holding it on the couch. 

“No bra either,” he notes, nuzzling into your neck and breathing you in. “You give all these workers quite a show.”

“You know I only dress like this for you, Dawson,” you reply. 

“Wish you’d commit to the bit and just be naked all the time.” He kisses your shoulder, other hand sliding up your shirt to grasp your other breast. He kneads them both, rolling your nipples between his calloused fingers. 

“Wish you’d take an article of clothing off,” you retort. 

“I’ll take it all off for you if you want me to, baby, just say the word,” Dawson promises. “Can I take your shirt off? Wanna get my mouth on these pretty tits.”

“Only if you take yours off too.”

Dawson doesn’t waste a second, pushing up to stand over you. He grabs the back of the neck of his shirt and pulls it over his head, revealing his muscular body to you. His chain falls between his collarbones beautifully and it makes your breath catch in your throat. He unbuckles his belt and pops the button on his jeans, unzipping them and pulling them down his legs, leaving him just in his boxer-briefs. The dark gray briefs leave nothing to the imagination and you bite your lip, gazing at the wet patch on the front of the briefs, right at the tip of his dick. 

You reach up and Dawson grabs your hands, pulling you into a sitting position. You raise your arms and he kneels between your legs, pushing your shirt up and bunching the fabric in his hands before he pulls it over your head and reveals your body to him. 

Dawson kisses up your stomach, slowly rising from his knees. He lifts you up and gently places you down so your head is on the pillows at the top of your bed. He then leaves a trail of kisses down your neck, shoulder, collarbone, and sternum until he makes his way to your breast.

He takes your nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue over it. He grinds down on the bed, rolling your other nipple between his fingers again. You moan and once he’s determined that your breast has received enough attention from his mouth, he switches to the other one. It’s slow and sensual, with Dawson taking his time and savoring the moment and the sounds that he pulls from your lips.

“Dawson.” You find your voice, signaling to him that it’s time to move on. 

“Mmm?” He continues to suckle on your chest, leaving a hickey on the side of your boob now.

“Fuck me,” you say. “Come up here and fuck me.”

“Yeah?” Dawson asks, pulling away from you to grin at you. “Need my cock, baby?”

You pretend to think. “Need is an exaggeration,” you tell him.

Dawson scoffs and leans down to kiss you, lining his cock up with your entrance. “No pussy gets this wet if ‘need is an exaggeration,’ sweet girl.”

You whine as he sinks into you and he lets out a breath that sounds like a groan, his head falling with the sensation. He presses his forehead against yours and bucks into you, holding back to take in the sensation of your heat around him. He always gets pussy drunk on you and goes too fast, loving the way you squeeze him and milk him for every drop. It’s only so long before he does it again and starts to really fuck into you, but he’s intoxicated now by the slow drag of your walls against his length.

“So warm, so wet,” Dawson groans. “All for me.”

“All yours,” you agree. You close your eyes and kiss Dawson, swallowing the moan that comes from his lips at your words. 

His hips start to pick up speed. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

Dawson’s hips move with desperation. It’s the easiest way to bring him to his climax, you’ve learned over the past year. He’s possessive over you and although you’re not boyfriend-girlfriend, he knows that you belong to him. When you admit it, when he hears those words come from your mouth, it squeezes at his heart the same way you clench down on his cock when he hits that spot inside of you.

“Dawsy,” you breathe out, clutching at his shoulders. “Feels so good.” 

With every thrust of his hips, he brings you closer to your second orgasm of the night. He thrusts forward and sucks at your neck, leaving wet kiss after wet kiss. His saliva cools on your neck as his wet, hot pants leave his lips. He grunts and kisses you deeply, his tongue filling your mouth as deliciously as his cock is filling your pussy. He pulls back and looks down, watching his cock disappear into your heat. 

“Fuck me,” he whispers, pressing a hand against your stomach and feeling himself inside of you. 

A wanton moan leaves your mouth, back arching from the pressure. Your mouth hangs open and Dawson leans up, biting your bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Feeling good, honey?” He asks quietly. “Love hearing you.”

“Yes, yes,” you chant, and you let out a squeal when Dawson reaches up to give your nipple a sharp pinch. “God!” Your stomach turns, so close to climaxing. With every light touch of his fingers and the consistent kiss of his cock to the spot inside you that makes you see stars, you inch toward your peak.

“Just me,” he says, cheeky but like it’s an afterthought. He soothes the pinch with a kiss before leaning back up to kiss you. His hips stutter and Dawson groans. “Gonna come, baby,” he says. “Gonna come with me?”

“Always,” you whine, voice high in the back of your throat but sounding far away, like Dawson’s fucked your soul right out of your body. 

“Come,” Dawson breathes out, hips stuttering as he moves them with abandoned fervor, chasing a high that’s just out of reach. “Come, baby, need to feel you. Need you to come on my cock before I do, please,” he begs. “Fuck!”

You can’t control the scream that bubbles in your throat as you let go, juices absolutely soaking Dawson’s cock inside you and the covers beneath you. It wasn’t often that he made you squirt, but tonight was one of those nights. Your release burst out of you like a dam and left you completely boneless on the bed. 

It only took a few more thrusts for Dawson to whimper and shoot off inside of you. You’re like a vice around him, clenching down so hard that it’s almost difficult to thrust in and out of you. “Sweetheart,” Dawson whines, voice dripping with emotion. “So tight, fuck, love your pussy.”

He collapses onto you, his head on your chest, his hands on your waist, his weight pressing you into the bed the same way he trapped you onto the couch earlier in the night. 

You trace the lines of his face with your thumb as your breath syncs with his and you both come down from your climaxes. 

Dawson hasn’t pulled out yet, his cock still half-hard inside of you. He moves his hips slowly, fucking his cum into you at an excruciating pace. 

You plant a kiss on Dawson’s head and hug him to your body. “We should probably get up, Daws.”

Dawson shakes his head. “Gonna fall asleep right here.”

You let out a chuckle. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dawson looks up at you with tired eyes. “Gonna keep my cock inside you all night, wake you up by making you come again.”

You let out a breath at that, clenching down on him subconsciously. You can’t help it. He’s so honest and he’s unabashed about how he wants you. 

He smiles, almost devilish. “You like that idea, huh?”

“Gimme a kiss,” you request, puckering your lips and waiting for him to come to you.

He does easily, unashamed and eager. “Could kiss you all night long.”

“Don’t, I’m tired.”

“Just think,” Dawson murmurs against your lips. “We could’ve done all of this in your guest bedroom.”

“Well someone broke the bed.”

“I wouldn’t have had to break the bed if you had just slept there with me.”

You two bicker like a married couple before you remove Dawson’s cock yourself and swing your legs over the side of the bed. He trails after you when you head to the bathroom, brushing his teeth with your toothbrush as you use the toilet. It’s all very domestic and you argue with him about the toothbrush, too, because he has his own and knows exactly where it lives (next to yours in the holder). You steal the brush from his mouth and leave him to rinse his mouth of the minty substance. You turn your back to him to hide the satisfied smirk on your face when you pop the toothbrush in your mouth without rinsing it of his germs.

When you make your way back to bed after cleaning yourself up, Dawson lays behind you and plasters himself to your back. He slips his cock back into your heat again and sighs, settling into the comfort of your heat. He presses a kiss to the back of your neck and breathes evenly until he falls asleep. You fall asleep with him, and if Dawson makes good on his promise of fucking you awake, that’s nobody’s business but yours.

notes: don't ever put me in a room with dawson mercer because i will make it my mission to stockholm sydrome that boy. welcome to my longest fic yet and man, oh man, did i have fun writing this.

[qrrieterisunnq]

Eight stages of pregnancy – Dawson Mercer

dawson!mercer x pregnant!reader Summary: the journey y/n’s and Dawson’s pregnancy during the hockey season, the most important milestones in every pregnancy Requested: yes/no A/N: This is the longest fic I have ever written so I hope you'll like it! Especially the one who requested it! Everything I write is a figment of my imagination! likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif, not mine word count: 9,0K warning(s): pregnancy, moody y/n, birth-giving, mentions of suicide (not in a bad way but just in a soft, cute? way I think), soft and sweet Dawson, pure content, gender reveal

masterlist | wip's

1. FINDING OUT YOU’RE PREGNANT – SEPTEMBER

“Please, be negative,” you mumble to yourself. You’re sitting on the bed in your shared bedroom with a plastic stick in your hands. You’ve been having morning sickness for a few days now, and with the fact that you and Daws sometimes forgot about condoms, you decided to do the test. “Please.” You whimper, tears stinging in your eyes.

You take in deep breath as you look down at the stick. Pregnant. You let out a shaky breath as the tears start falling down your cheeks. You don’t really know if the tears are happy or sad.

You and Dawson never really talked about this stuff. Yeah, you asked him If he want kids in the future, but with his third season in nhl only, you both agreed that you want to wait at least a few years.

“Oh my god!” you choke on your sob, trying to hold it in you. Dawson was down the hall with the boys playing games. They probably won't hear you, but you can't take the risk.

You crawl into the bed under the blanket, holding the stick in your hand, while the other is in your mouth trying to silence your sobs.

When you calm down a little, you let your mouth free and place the hand on your stomach, caressing it slightly.

“Hi there,” you whisper a quiet sob leaving your mouth. “I'm you, mommy.” You lightly caress your still-flat belly.

Watching your hand moving over your belly you completely forgot about the time and the fact that the boys are still over at your place. The sound of the door opening snaps you out of your thoughts. You hold your breath in waiting for someone to start speaking or something to happen.

“Baby, are you okay?” Daws’ voice sounds next to you and the bed dipped down under his weight as he sits behind you.

You let out a shaky breath, swallowing the sob. “Yeah!” you say in a shaky voice, trying to sound convincingly.

He lets out a sigh. “Can I see your face, my love?” he asks softly, his hand running down my back over the blanket.

You close your eyes, you wish you could say no, but you have to tell him, and the best opportunity to tell him is probably now.

You pull the planet off your head and sit up, clinging the plastic stick in your hand.

“Why are you crying my love?” he whispered, turning to face me, his hands making their way to your face wiping the tears away.

You look down at your hands before you take a deep breath in look into his eyes.

“I...uhm...I know we said we want to wait a while...but a...uhm,” you let out a shaky breath before you place the stick on his lap. In the corner of my eye, you can see his shocked expression as his shaky hands take the test in them.

You let out a sob, as you watch him tilt his head back, eyes screwed shut and the test firmly clenched in his left hand. You watch him as he takes in a deep breath before he looks your way with teary eyes. You want to say something, but the only sound that comes out is your sob.

“We are having a baby?” his voice croaked as a quiet sob left his throat. I nod wiping away the tears. He looks down at the test and then back at me. “We are having a baby!” he says, this time with a smile on his lips as he pulls me in him, lying on top of me. You let out a laugh, wrapping your hands around his neck as his lips press on your neck, peppering it with kisses.

“Yes, we are!” still laughing, he turns you around, so you’re lying atop him. “Wait,” you stop laughing, pushing your hands against his chest to get some distance between you two. “You aren’t mad?”

“Why should I be?” he looks at you with a confused look, brows arched.

“Because I-I thought you didn’t want a baby.” You whisper with a sad look. He sits up with you on his lap as he cups your cheeks.

“Yeah, I probably didn’t want it a few years ago, but I want to have a family with you.” He smiles pressing a small kiss on your lips.

“Okay,” you nod, a smile lingering on your lips. “I want a family with you too.” His smile grows wider as he leans in to kiss your lips this time with more passion.

“I love you so much, love!”  

“I love you too!” I smile at him my lips grazing over his as I speak.

Just at that moment, his lips are pressed to yours, your bedroom doors open Jack and Luke standing in them bickering over something, but they stop as soon as they see you in this position.

“Oh sorry, we wanted to know, if you’ll come down, but as we see, I think we’ll probably leave,” Jack says scratching his neck in nervosity just like Luke.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea,” Dawson says sarcastically, his hands resting on your ass cheeks.

“Yeah, bye!” Luke shouts, shutting the door behind him. In a few minutes, the front door shuts too. You look at Dawson, letting out a laugh at the two of them.

2. DAWSON’S FIRST DOCTOR APPOINTMENT – OCTOBER

“Baby, come on. We’ll be late!” Dawson whines watching you put on some makeup while he’s lying in your bed, dressed in a simple black tee and suit pants.

You’re sitting behind your makeup table applying your red lipstick, watching him lay on the bed, his hands under his head making him flex his arm muscles.

“Jesus, Daws, we have like an hour before we have to be here, and the way here took us only ten minutes so calm down.” You groan at his eagerness. You continue to apply your makeup this time mascara trying not to get it on your eyelids.

“Sorry, I’m just looking forward to it so fucking much! We’ll see our baby, maybe hear his heartbeat. Oh man, I want to see him so bad!” he smiles at you happily, your lips quirking up at his expression.

“Him?” you let out when you realized what he actually said.

“Yeah, I have this feeling it’ll be a boy.” He nods, his gaze glutted on you through the mirror.

“If you say so!” you surged your shoulders looking at him through the mirror with a smile.

“You look beautiful,” he says after a while looking at you through the mirror. “I’m so lucky to have you!”

“I am so lucky to have you,” you smile at him through the mirror. “Okay, I’m ready, we can go.”

“Finally,” he groans getting up from the bed, almost tripping over his foot as he gets to you. You let out a small laugh earning a glare from him. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I am not laughing at you,” you say through your laughs. His hands make their way to your waist tickling you. “I’m not!” you squeal hitting Dawson in the ribs accidentally.

“Oh,” he groans letting go of you. “What was that for?” he looks at you, rubbing his ribs.

“I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to.” You say through laughs hand resting on your bell.

“Yeah, sure.” He says in a sarcastic tone moving away from me.

“Where are you going?” your laugh stops as you see him approach the door.  

He turns at you, his lips in pout making you laugh. “Away from your aggressiveness,” he says like a baby. You stand up, and walk toward him, making grabby hands at him, knowing he won’t resist you.  “Jesus woman.” He groans, pulling you in his chest and kissing the top of your head.

“Okay dad, you wanna hear the baby's heartbeat?” the doctor asks while he’s doing something on the monitor.

“Yeah, hundred percent. Please.” He let out avidly. The biggest smile you’ve ever seen is now dancing on his lips while his hand is holding yours in a tight grip.

“Okay, here we go.” The doctor fastens a belt over my belly so we can hear the heartbeat, and then he clicks something on the screen. A while later, the room is filled with the sound of our baby's heartbeat. “Shit,” Dawson lets out, bringing your hands to his mouth. You look up at him, tears in your eyes just like in his. He’s looking at the monitor with adoration in his teary eyes.

“Sorry,” he chuckles when the doctor looks him in the eyes. The doctor just shakes his head laughing at his reaction.

“That’s okay, I heard worst.” You laugh with the doctor looking at the monitor where is your little baby.

His little fingers are clenched in fists, in front of his face and his little legs are raised up. You look back at Dawson, melting at the sight. His eyes are glutted to the screen as he’s listening to the heartbeat. Your interlocked hands are still at his mouth, kissing your knuckles, tears running down his cheeks.

“Don’t cry, baby,” you coo, your thumb running along his knuckles.

“I’m not crying,” he whispers his voice croaking in the middle.

“Yeah, you are.” You chuckle bringing your hands to your mouth this time, kissing his knuckles. He bends down, kissing the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a while.

“Okay, if you are done with the listening, I can print you the photos and that would be all for today.” The doctor looks at us, a questioning gaze on his face.

You both just nod your heads, his lips still pressed against my forehead. The doctor looks away from you with a smile on his face and clicks something on the monitor then turns at us again.

“Two are enough?” you nod your head but Dawson's hand in the air stops us.

“No, twelve, please, and if it's possible in digital form too.” He yelps, covering his mouth with giggles.

“Yeah sure, I can send it to Miss y/l/n's email if that’s okay.” he looks your way cocking his brows.

“Yeah, that’s completely fine.” You nod your head, taking the tissue the doctor hands you to wipe your belly from the gell.

“Thank you.” You mumble cleaning your belly. When you’re done, Dawson helps sit up and cover your belly.

“Okay, here you go.” The doctor hands you the photos with paper with the date of another control. You shove it in your handbag standing from the bed.

“Thank you so much, doctor, really appreciate it,” Dawson says almost bowing down for him.

“It’s alright, that’s why I’m doing this job.” He smiles at us as he shakes our hands saying goodbye to us.

With interlocked hands, you make your way out of the ordination to your car. The walk is quiet which is weird for you because he’s never quiet, he always has something to say.  

“You, okay?” you tug at his hand your brows furrowed, but you don’t get your answer. You look at him his gaze at the floor as you’re walking towards your car. “Dawson?” you tug at his hand again this time harder for him to get out of the trans.

“Yeah...uhm, sorry love. I got lost in my mind.” He lets out a sigh turning your hands around your neck, so his hand is resting on your shoulder and yours is still interlocked with his in the air next to your head.

“Yeah, I saw,” You chuckle kissing his hand. “Everything’s alright?”

“Yeah, I’m totally fine. I just still hear the sound of the heartbeat in my ears. I-I know you heard it before but…” he trails off, the sparkle in his eyes as he talks about your baby making the butterflies in your belly go crazy.

“I know that feeling, hon, I felt the same.” Smiling up at him, you earn a cheeky grin from him and a kiss on the tip of your nose.

He nods his head and stops in front of your car. He opens the door for you helping to get in.

“I love you so much. I’m so grateful you are the woman who is carrying my child.” He leans down pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. You smile at him softly leaning in for another kiss.

3. TELLING THE DEVILS – DECEMBER

Three months. For three months you were listening to Dawson’s complaints about why you can’t tell the devils and family about the baby.

Of course, you told him, that the first three months are risky, and no one should know about it, but he’s been so excited about it, that he wanted to tell the world.

You get that, you wanted to tell the world too, but not now. Everything could happen in the last three months. You have a week till the end of the third month so then you can finally tell everyone.

“Baby!” you shout in from the kitchen as you are making snacks for yourself.

“Comin’,” you can hear some shuffling coming from the living room, the sound of bare feet hitting the floor following. “I’m here. What’s going on?” his voice is full of concern, his hands resting on your hips probably to support you from stumbling. Even though you're in the third month you have quite a big bump. The doctor, even if you think that you might have twins, you won’t be able to find out until your control in two days.

“Uhm, nothing really, just wanna tell you that maybe next week we can tell the devils and family if you want?” you smile at him over your shoulder, pressing a quick peck on the corner of his mouth.

“For real?” his eyes wide just like his smile. Quickly he turns you around a knife still in your hand as you look up at his eyes. You just nod your head smiling up at him. His eyes fill up with love and happiness. He bends down, pressing a firm kiss to your lips. “I love you, jeez I love you so fucking much y/n,” he mumbles in your lips, causing a laugh to escape your lips.

“I love you too,” mumbling in your lips you carefully press the tip of your knife to his chest, making him shiver. “But if you ever leave me, I’ll kill you and you know I will.” You whisper in his earth, tongue running over his earlobe.

He groans at the feeling of your warm tongue on his skin, stepping close, the knife pressing more into his chest. “I’d rather kill myself than ever leave you.” His hands travel up your hips as they land on the sides of your breasts.

You smile up at him, the hand with the knife slowly sliding down his torso and stomach ‘till it’s by your side. “Well, then,” you turn back to the food, you were cutting, with a smirk on your face when you catch a glimpse of his dropped jaw.

“Oh, you little teaser,” he lets out a chuckle tickling your sides and making you shriek with laughter as you drop the knife down. “I’m gonna tickle you until you say you love me and that you  know I would never leave you.” He laughs in your ear his hands not stopping in their job.

“Okay!” you manage to get out between laughs. “Okay, I LOVE YOU!” you scream out laughing as he doesn’t seem to stop. "I LOVE YOU." you laugh nudging Daws in his ribs. “And I know you won’t leave me!” you say out of breath from the laughing. This makes him stop his tickling. He turns you around pulling you into a tight hug rocking both of you side to side as he’s pressing kisses to the top of your head.

„I love you too, my pretty girl.“

“What’s going on with you, y/n?” Jack’s girlfriend asks you nudging your shoulder with hers, as you’re standing behind the glass watching the Devils having later morning practice.

“Oh, nothing just tired.” You look at her from under your lashes trying to resist the urge to yawn. At night you couldn’t sleep. Your back has been hurting for a while now and the only comfortable position to sleep is on the back. Dawson somehow managed you to fall asleep, but sleeping only five hours isn’t something you’re familiar with.

“Busy night?” she wiggles her brows giggling. You just shake your head chuckling. The whole team is still wondering how someone like her is with Jack. She’s the most innocent person you met, yet she’s with the dirtiest man on this planet.

“No, but you seem glowing, what’s up with you?” you nudge her arm this time smiling at her.

“I’m feeling so happy. Like I never did in a few years. Jack and I are doing amazing, And I think I’m starting to find my way to Luke which is awesome because I want his family to like me, which I know is kinda hard with my personality.” She chuckles the biggest smile sitting on her lips. You’ve never seen her this happy, and you have what to talk about. You knew her even before she started dating Jack and she never smiled like this.

“I’m so happy for you, love!”

“Okay, guys! Practice is over, you can go now, take a shower, and then you can leave.” Nico shouts just when you stop talking, making you both turn your heads at the ice. Dawson is already looking at you, a nervous smile lingering on his lips. “But before that, Dawson here would like to tell us something.” Nico turns at him, nodding at him as he skates over to other guys.

“Okay, can everyone, you girls too, come on the ice, please?” he asks nervously shuffling his skates over the ice.

“What’s going on?” Jack’s girl asks you, with furrowed brows, you just shake your head ushering her to get on the ice.

“You’ll see.” You smile at her as soon as you step on the ice. Jack hands, both of you, hands so you won’t slip on the ice. As soon as you’re on the ice, Dawson skates toward you helping you walk over the place he was standing earlier. His hands wrap around your waist, making sure you won't slip.

“Okay, if everyone’s here, I and y/n have something big to tell-” However, before he has a chance to finish his sentence, Jack interrupts him.

“You proposed?” he shouts, eyes wide.

“No,” Dawson shakes his head chuckling. “But that might happen soon.” he smiles down at you squeezing your hip.

“So, what is the big news?” Luke asks this time, confusion written all over his face.

“I and Dawson,” I look up at him with a smile, making sure I can speak. “We’re having a baby.” You shout together raising your hand in the air with a big smile on your face. Within a second, everyone skates towards you pulling you in hugs as they scream in happiness for you both.

“Oh my god, I am so happy for you, y/n.” Nicole, Jesper’s girlfriend, pulls you in a hug, jumping carefully with you.

“Y/n! You bitch!” Jack’s girlfriend shouts at you when Nicole lets you go.

“Sorry?” you laugh tightening your grip on her.

“I am so happy for you, my love!” she smiles at you pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Oh my god, I feel your bump!” She giggles, her hand wants to touch your belly, but she hesitates, knowing damn well that pregnant women don’t like it when someone touches their belly.

“It’s okay, you can,” you smile at her nodding her head.

“Oh, my goddess,” she whispers caressing it slightly. “You must be at least in the sixth month, right?” she smiles up at you.

“Uhm, no, I’m at the beginning of the fourth.” You laugh when you see her shocked expression.

“You know, our boy is a little bit bigger.” Dawson’s voice echoes next to your ear, his hands wrapping around you.

“I bet he is.” She laughs, and Jack appears behind her hugging her from behind just like Jesper do to Nicole.

“Congratulations, y/n, I’m so happy for you.” Jack smiles reaching his fist to you. You let out a laugh fist bumping him and then Jesper.

After everyone congratulates you on the pregnancy, they leave the ice, leaving you, Daws, Nicole, Jesper, Jack, and his girl, Luke, and Nico on the ice alone.

For the next ten or so minutes you talk about your pregnancy, and everything connected with that. The girls enthusiastically suggest that when you know the gender, they will organize a gender reveal for you.

“Thank you, my love,” Dawson whispered in your ear kissing your neck. “For keeping up with me these past three months.”

“Well, I have to keep up with you, right?” you laugh at him, kissing his cheek.

4. TELLING THE FAMILY – DECEMBER

Five years, that’s how long you know Dawson’s family. Five long years, yet you are afraid to tell them about the baby. The same fear you have of your family. Your mother is a strict one, she was against you and Dawson from the beginning of your relationship.

It’s December now, Christmas Day is tomorrow to be exact. This means your families are here, in your house for a week, during the whole Christmas.

They wanted to stay till the new year, but you told them that you and the guys would be celebrating together.

Now, you, your mom, and Dawson’s mom Charlotte are in the kitchen finishing the food you will have for dinner today. You are in your fourth month, so your belly is visible now. You’re wearing, a pink fuzzy dress with long sleeves which ends below your knees.

“Can I help you somehow?” Jennifer, Dawson’s sister, appears in a kitchen, fiddling with her fingers.

“Sure honey, can you stir the soap, please?” you look at her over your shoulder with a big smile. You love his family so much, but the feeling of telling them, you’re having their son's child.

“Okay.” She nods her head, walking over the stove.

“How’s hockey, Jess?” you ask with concern. Jess is like your sister you never had, growing up like an only child, you always wanted a sibling, but your mom was glad to have you, yet another kid. She was lucky to make it through your birth.

“Oh, I think I’m doing great, I’m a captain assistant, now, since the one left for another college.” Her voice is full of happiness, and you can hear the love for the sport in her voice. This is the thing that she shares with her siblings.

“That’s cool! And how’s college?” you smile at her as you walk over to the table, to set it up for dinner.

“Great, my GPA is 3.9. I messed up one of the tests.” She sighs shaking her head, disappointed.

“Hey, that’s amazing! I never had this GPA; I was always around 3.7 as I was a nerd.” You chuckle, hoping this makes her feel better.

“Really? I thought you always had 4.0.” she looks at you surprised.

“Never,” you chuckle shaking your head while you’re setting the table. “I was always so nervous during the exam.”

“Wanna help?” Dawson asks as he stands in the doorframe. You look up at him with a soft smile on your red lips.

“No, that’s okay,” smiling up at him, you squeeze his biceps, leaning over the table to place here plates. “We’ll call you when the food is ready.”

“Okay,” he kisses your forehead, a smile lingering on his lips. “Don’t be nervous my love.” He whispers, looking down into your eyes.

“The dinner was perfect, ladies,” Dawson’s dad, Craig, smiles at us, as he’s wiping his mouth with napkin. “Delicious.”

“Yeah, it was so delicious, I’d eat more, but I’m so full, I’m afraid my stomach will explode.” Dawson chuckles, caressing his belly. You pat his tight leaving your hand there. Dawson looks at you with a smile, patting your tight in return, taking his hand away and resting it on his belly.

“Y/n, your dress looks so cozy, where is it from?” Your mom asks, looking at you from head to toe.

“Oh, I don’t, know, I bought it on the internet, I’ll send you a link!” your free hand grasps the glass with water. You sip from it, resting it back on the table.

“So, if you’re done, we can move to the living room, to watch some movie or something?” you suggest watching everyone’s reaction. They share looks as they nod their heads in yes.

“Okay, you can go, I’ll make some popcorn and take chips,” standing from your seat, Dawson follows you right behind, his hand on your lower back. You look at him, smiling, but you stop as soon as you see your mom's and Charlotte’s faces.

“We’ll help you.” They say at the same time, your brows pulled together in confusion.

“That’s, okay, Dawson will help me, I need to talk to him for a while.” You give them a tight smile, dragging him to the kitchen as soon as they leave.

“What’s wrong, love?” Dawson asks you, stopping your hands from opening the chips.

“They know,” you whisper, looking over to the living room, watching your moms gossip about something, probably your pregnancy. “They know I’m having your baby.” You look at him, tears threaten to spring out.

“Hey, ‘s okay, we wanted to tell them anyway,” he shushed you, his hands making their way to your cheeks. “And if they know, they look excited, so you don’t have to worry, okay.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” You wipe the tears away, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his lips.

When you’re done opening the chips, and popping the popcorn, you make your way to the living room, placing it on the coffee table.

“Okay, everybody, listen up!” Daws claps his hands together and draws all the attention to himself. “Me and y/n have something important to tell you.” His hand wraps around your waist pulling you closer to him.

Your mom looks up at you, a wide grin on her lips just like on Charlottes.

“So?” your dad looks at you his brows cocked. “Speak?”

“I and Daws, uhm,” you breathe out grasping onto Dawson’s biceps. “We’re having a baby.” You let out, a soft smile on your lips.

“Oh, my god! Congratulations!” Jessica shouts, jumping at both of you and pulling you in a hug.

“Thank you!” you smile at her, tightening your grip on him.

“I’m going to be an uncle!” Riley, Dawson’s brother yells, pulling Dawson in a hug and spinning him around, making all of us laugh.

“I’m so happy for you, my babygirl.” Your mom pulls you in a hug, kissing the side of your head. Dad comes up to you, pulling you both in his embrace.

“So proud of you, y/n,” he whispers in your ear when mom leaves to hug Dawson. “I’ll try my best to be the grandpa he or she won’t forget.”

“You will, dad. You already are.” You smile up at him, kissing his cheek. You pull away from him, only to be pulled in another warm embrace this time by Craig and Charlotte.

“Thank you, honey,” Charlotte choked out, tears running down her cheeks. “Thank you, for giving me a grandchild.”

“Thank you, for giving me your son.” You smile at both of them. Soon you’re, pulled out of their embrace, and spun around by Riley.

“Oh my god! Riley! Stop!” you shirk out a laugh as you grip hard his shoulders.

“Asshole, putt her down!” Daws laughs. He pulls you in himself as soon as your feet touch the ground kissing the top of your head. “It wasn’t that bad right?” he whispers in your ear chuckling.

“Oh, shut up.”

5. GENDER REVEAL – JANUARY

It’s here. Today is the day we got to know our baby's gender. You and Dawson are sitting in the locker room of Prudential Center, your hands interlocked as he draws small patterns of heart on your skin.

Your leg is bouncing with anticipation. You’re so excited about the gender reveal. You knew this was going to be big when Nico and Jack were the ones to organize it.

“Y/n! Dawson!” Jack’s shouting comes closer with each second until he shows up in the room. “Come with me.” He says with a big smile urging you two to come.

“Not so fast, Jack! I’m pregnant!” Jack is at least two meters ahead of you when you call after him. He turns around waiting for you impatiently as you and Dawson slowly approach him. “Thank you.” You smile at him and hook your arm around his.

“No, ‘s okay!” he looks down at you grinning. Soon he stops both of you, holding two bandanas in his hands. “Put it on, I and Nico will get you on the ice.”

Quickly you look at Dawson, his eyes are already on you as he’s chuckling and shaking his head. “Okay. But be careful with y/n.”

“Don’t worry, Daws, I’ll be the one to lead her.” Nico laughs walking over to us, dressed in sweatpants and a shirt, skates on his feet, just like on Jack’s and Dawson’s.

“Thanks, at least the more responsible one.” He teases, watching Jack’s face turn into a shocked expression.

“Okay, put it on, we don’t have all day for this.” Jack urges us, slowly jumping in one place.

“Okay, grab my hands tightly, I’ll make sure you won’t fall.” Nico squeezes your hands, pulling you lightly to him. You stumble over your feet, but Nico catches you, his hands squeezing your hips.

“Sorry.” You mumble stepping away from him with a small laugh.

“No worries. Now slowly okay, step by step, I’ll tell you when we approach the ice.” He says slowly and distinctly, slowly starting to move towards the ice.

“Okay,” you let out a deep breath slowly walking towards the ice. You can hear Dawson swearing, as he crashes in the bench.

“Shit!” he lets out again. “Jack, where the fuck are you!” he yells.

“In front of you!” his laugh carried through the rink.

“Son of a bitch!”

You and Nico let out laughs at them, knowing damn well, Jack is probably on the ice, laughing his ass off. You squeeze his hands when you stumble again, this time, you don’t fall on him, continuing in your walk. Soon you’re on the ice, Nico leading you carefully somewhere, probably to the net.

“Okay, you can take off the bandanas,” Jack shouts at you. You pull it off of your eyes, adjusting to the light. “Now, Dawson, in front of you are seven pucks. In the net is a plastic glass. The pucks are filled with colors. Black for boy, red for girl. The puck is not as hard as a normal puck, so it will be easy to break as soon as it hits the glass. The color that will be in four pucks is the winning one!” a proud smile lingering on Jack’s lips. Nico skates over to us, handing Dawson his stick and gloves.

“To make it not so fast, we have two more attractions here,” Nico announces, skating in the middle of the rink. “Here we have tic-tac-toe, You Daws, you’ll be shooting the puck where y/n tells you.” The circles are colored on one side only, so now they are all turned with the wood side on us. But the first color that has three in a row, that’s the winning one. If the first winner is a boy and the second is a girl, then we have the last, but that later.”  He skates back to us. Other guys and family members are sitting on the bench or the boards or just standing on the ice watching you two.

“Okay, you start whenever you want!” Luke shouts this time, his voice full of excitement.

Dawson skates over to you kiss your lips. “I’m so excited!” he whispers excitement in his voice.

“Me, too.” You smile up at him, your hands around his chest as you slowly walk to the pucks.

“Okay, you choose the pucks, okay?”

“Sure,” you nod your head, looking down at the pucks. Your hands shot to your belly resting there, a smile spread on your lips.

Dawson can’t take his eyes off of you. You look so stunning in black leggings and his jersey, his name written on your back, the jersey loose on you, but your belly still visible.

“Okay, this one!” you skate to him, pointing at one of the pucks. He uses his stick to take the puck and skates far from the net so he can shoot. You smile at him and nod your head, that's a signal for Daws to swing his stick and shoot the puck into the glass. The puck breaks, and red powder flies through the air.

A sound of cheers is carried through the rink as Dawson skates over to you wrapping one arm around your waist and leaning down to your ear. “See, girl.” He laughs kissing your temple. You just shake your head, pushing him slightly away from you, so he can shoot another puck.

You point at another puck, hoping, this time it’ll be black powder. You have talked about this before all the time. Everyone was surprised when they found out that you were the one who wanted a boy. On the other side, there is Daws who wants a girl so he can spoil her.

Dawson swings his stick, hitting the puck. This time black color. You shout in excitement doing a little dance, causing laughs to escape guys’ lips. You skate over to him, chest to chest. “See, boy!” you grin at him pointing your finger to his chest.

“Fine 1:1 we'll see who’ll be next.” This time he picked up the puck and shot it in the net. Another black. You look up at him wide grin on your lips. You pick him another puck, this time red. Two other pucks are shot, and the score is 3:3.

“Okay, last puck, then we get on the other part of the gender reveal.” Jack’s voice sounds through the rink, his face shines with happiness and joy that his friend is happy.

“And the winner of the first round is,” Nico clapped at his tights as drums, waiting for Dawson to shoot the last puck in. “GIRL!” he shouts just like all guys and Dawson too.

“Okay, before the last round, our score is tied. 1:1 for both, girls, and boys. For the last, we need you, to change into these white shirts,” Nico holds the shirts above his head motioning to us to skate over to him. “Go to the locker rooms, change then come back, the last one will be quick, so you won’t freeze.” He smiles when he sees your expression.

You make your way into the locker room, with Dawson hot on your tail. You both changed in the shirts, glad that Nico bought you a XXL.

“You look amazing!”

“Thank you, love.” You smile at him, tucking the shirt in your leggings on the back.

“Ready to find out, the gender of our baby, dove?” he walks over you, hooking his arms around your waist.

“Yeah, I can’t wait. I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, I just want them to be healthy.” You sigh looking him in the eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” He nods kissing the top of your head. “I just wish it’ll be girl, so I can call her my little princess and treat her like one, so let’s go find out what we have, okay?” interlocking your fingers, he leads you out of the locker room.

You squeeze his hand, as thoughts about what type of gender reveal is going to be this. You are so excited to find out the gender of your baby. You can’t wait to hold your baby in your arms. Just the thought of it makes you cling more to Dawson and makes your heart melt.

“Okay, for this you have to be blindfolded the whole time,” Luke says with a smile on his face, tying the bandanas around both your heads. “Now, we placed a rug on the ice, where you’ll sit the whole time,” he clears his throat. “The point in this reveal is following. You’ll be sitting across from each other the whole time. We put painton your hands. The color is the color of your baby's gender. All you’ll have to do is put the color on each other's shirt and maybe skin. Here is our photograph, he will take pictures of you two, then when we say, you’ll take off the bandana finding out what your baby is!” he ends his speech leaving you speechless. This was the most sensitive and emotional gender reveal you heard about.

You were surprised they were able to come up with this idea. You’re sure the wags had to help them come up with the idea because this is so emotional and the cutest gender reveal you’ve ever heard of.

The guys slowly take you on the ice, sitting you down on the rug. You’re glad you took warm leggings today because the ice is really cold.

“Okay, now, we’ll squeeze some paint on your hands, then you can start putting it on each other,” Luke says as he squeezes cold and wet paint on your palm. You spread the paint on your other hand and slowly stretch your arms out in front of you to place your hands on Dawson’s chest. He shivers under your touch, causing a laugh to escape your lips. His hands find their way to your boobs, squeezing them. You just shake your head laughing together with the guys, who whistle and shout.

“Like college boy!” you shake your head, a soft laugh escaping his lips.

“Okay, do some cute poses, so our photographer can take pictures of you!” you hear Nico say, his voice somewhere in your close presence.

After a few minutes, of touching yourself and laughing, Luke allows you to take the bandanas off. You look into his eyes, catching a glimpse of bright red color, staining Dawson's shirt, and your hands. Your eyes well up with tears, sob escaping your lips. Dawson’s eyes are wide, just like his smile. “We are having a baby girl!” he shouts, pulling you into him. He stands up with you, spinning you around, a laugh coming from your mouth. When he puts you down on the ground, his hands cup your cheeks, wiping the tears away. You look in his red eyes as he tries to hold the tears in. “I love you.” He sniffles, tears finally rolling down his cheek.

“I love you too, Dawson!” you sniffle, pulling his face closer you place your lips on his. The kiss is salty from the tears of joy. “We’re having a girl.” You say between kisses.

“Okay! Enough!” you look in the direction from where Jack’s voice comes. “There are kids!” Jack shouts, covering Luke’s eyes, and causing John and the other guys to snicker.

6. FIRST KICKS – FEBRUARY

Laying on your couch just in Dawson’s shirt and black shorts, an ice cream pack sitting on your belly as you watch Full House. Dawson is in the kitchen with John, Nico, and Jack talking about hockey, while Luke is sitting next to you, eating ice cream with you, and laughing at Michelle's quotes.

It's five weeks later after the gender reveal, you’re in six month, and your belly looks like watermelon. The baby should start kicking any day, which is why Dawson is by your side at every free moment he has. The only reason he’s not next to you right now is that boys are here with him, and you are really glad.

“Sup? You’re quiet today,” Luke nudges your shoulder, causing a drop of ice cream to drop on your shirt. You glare at him, wiping the white substance away.

“Nothing, just my back hurts like bitch.” You complain, groaning when you try to sit up.

“Wait, let me help you.” He puts his ice cream on the coffee table just like yours, helping you up in a sitting position.

“Thanks,” you send him a grateful smile, reaching for your ice cream. There is silence for a while between the two of you, but suddenly you remember how he talked about this girl a few weeks earlier. “Did you ask the girl out?” you probably caught him off guard by the question, because the ice cream he was eating got stuck in his throat, causing him to cough.

“Ugh… no, uhm. No, I didn’t. I was too afraid to ask her and when I wanted, two days ago, she was out with some guy, so…” he shrugs his shoulder, taking a full spoon of ice cream in his mouth.

“And who was the guy?” you cock your brow at him, taking a full spoon of ice cream in your mouth, immediately regretting it because of the freezing feeling in your brain.

“Have no idea, probably her da-“ he didn’t even finish the answer, when you grasped his hand, putting it on your belly. He’s confused for a while, but he smiles as soon as he feels the movements. “Oh my god!”

“DAWSON!” you shout, making Luke flinch.

“What's wrong!” you hear his voice before he even gets in the living room, just like Nico, John, and Jack. They stop in front of you, confusion and horror written in their eyes.

“Gimme your hand.” You wave your hand in the air, signaling him, to reach his hand towards you. You pull him towards you, shoving Luke’s hand away, and you place Dawson’s shaky hand there, waiting for his reaction.

“Oh, my-“ he choked on his words and let out a chuckle as he pressed the other hand there too, crouching in front of you. “Is that?” he looks up at you, tears in his eyes and a big wide smile on his lips.

“Yeah, she’s kicking,” You smile at him, a single tear running down his cheek when your baby girl kicks him again. With a laugh he sits next to you, pulling you to his side. You look at the boys, urging them to come closer, they kneel in front of you, their eyes glutted to yours. “Here,” you place Nico’s hand on the right side of your belly, waiting for the baby to kick again. He lets out a chuckle when the girl kicks him in the hand. In a moment, he’s shoved away by Jack, whose hands are already on both sides of your belly waiting for her to greet him.

“Hi, baby girl! I’m your uncle Jack, the coolest one!” he says slightly caressing your belly when the baby kicks him.

Nico shakes his head shoving Jack away, talking to the belly. “No, I’m the coolest one!” John looks between the two of them, shaking his head as he shoves both of them away, his hand carefully pressing on your belly. “Hi there, pretty girl! I’m your uncle, John, I’m pretty sure we’ll be best buddies when you’ll be there with us.” His thumbs caress your skin over your shirt, a smile on his face just like on yours and Daw’s.

“Okay, none one of you is right,” Luke sighs rolling his eyes. “I’ll be the coolest uncle for her, so…” he shrugs, causing a laugh escaping your lips.

You move your attention to Dawson, his eyes already on you. You cock your brow at him, your head tilted to the side.

“You look gorgeous,” he whispers, kissing the side of your head. “Thank you, for carrying my baby.”

“Thank you, for being the best boyfriend-slash-bestfriend-slash-daddy in my life.” You smirk up at him, placing a soft kiss on his jaw.

You rest your head on his shoulder, enjoying the atmosphere here. The sound of boys bickering in the background as you listen to Dawson's heartbeat and concentrate on his hand on your belly.

These moments are rare, but you enjoy them so much. Being able to spend time with Dawson’s friends are the best days and nights of your life.

7. THE BABY'S NAME – MARCH & APRIL

“No!” you shook your head, pushing Dawson’s hand away from your tight so you could stand up. "I won't name our baby girl Junpiter, mom." you sigh squeezing the bridge of your nose.

“Come one, y/n! It's a beautiful name. You know, you were supposed to be named like that?” you can lively imagine the smile she's wearing now.

“Yeah, and I'm glad I don't. Can you imagine the bullying she'll get if I named her Junpiter? So no, mom, thank you for your tip, but I think I and Dawson can come up with a name that would suit our girl.” you say quickly, so she doesn't have a chance to interrupt you.

You stay on the call for a few minutes before you bid her goodbye ending the call.

“Junpiter, huh?” Dawson's hands sneak around your waist, his lips brushing on your neck as he speaks.

“Shut up!” you groan, tossing the phone on the couch. Dawson pulls you more into his chest, his hands making their way under your big belly, lifting it slightly, to relieve you from the weight. You let out a breath, your head falling on Dawson’s shoulder. “Thank you.” You whisper, kissing his neck.

“For you anything, my love,” a smile tugged at his lips when he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “But we really should come up with a name for her.”

“I already have one, but I don’t know if you'll like it.” You say quietly waiting for his reaction. Gently, he lets go of your belly, disapproving whimper leaves your mouth. He turns you around so you’re looking at him and walks you over to the couch to sit you down on his lap.

“Tell me.”

“Okay, I have a few names, but I like this the best,” you start, moving on his lap, to find the best position for your sitting. “Avery Charlotte Dawson.” You let out, biting your lower lip.

“You want to give our girl, a name after my mom?” he looks at you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.

“Yeah, I like your mom a lot, and when we have another baby, she’ll have a name after my mom.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Another baby?” he chokes on his saliva, coughing.

“Yeah, but not like right after this is out, maybe three or four years later, so they have some age gap, you know.” You grin up at him. He shakes his head, his hands playing with the hem of the shirt you’re wearing.

“I like the name,” he smiles after a while of silence. “A lot, thank you.” He leans in kissing the tip of your nose, then your cheeks, and the last kiss is finally on your lips. ”Our Aver Charlotte Dawson.” He presses his hand on your belly caressing it slightly.

“I love you,” you say dreamily, looking at him with a smile full of gratitude.

“Love you too.” He leans down, his forehead on yours smile painted across his lips. You tilt his head, meeting his lips in a quick, but delicate kiss.

8. THE BIRTH GIVING – MAY

“Where are my keys!” Dawson hurried into the kitchen looking for his car keys as you were standing at the door to your apartment, holding onto the wall to support your weak legs.

“Where you dropped them last night!” you snap at him, taking deep breaths in. It’s game day tonight, the devils made it to the playoffs and are playing the Panthers in the semifinal, but your baby girl decides that today is the day, she has to come to the world.

“Got them!” he yelps out, running to you. He takes your bag from the ground, tossing it over his shoulder. He wraps his hand around your waist, guiding you out of the apartment. “you’re doing amazing, my love.” He praised you when you got in the elevator. He pressed the button impatiently, waiting for it to move.

Your breathing quickens as soon as another contraction comes. You grip Dawson's hand, trying to control your breathing and the pain in your abdomen.

“Come on!” Dawson whines, watching the numbers on the elevator change, announcing you are finally on the last floor. “Okay, here we go.” He pulls you out, carefully as if you were some kind of porcelain doll.

“I’m not friangle Dawson! Get me in that car, or I’ll give birth here and you’ll be the one, getting the baby out!” you warn him, glare on your face. You know this is his biggest fear. He told you multiple times, that he’s afraid, that he’d be the one who’ll have to give birth to your girl with you. That you won’t make it to the hospital in time.

“Okay! I'm sorry!” he says in horror as he drags you down in the garage to get in a car and then in the hospital.

The ride to the hospital felt like hours for you, but it was only fifteen minutes. Dawson parks his car in the hospital parking lot, gets out, jogs to your side of the car, and helps you out of the car. Slowly you make your way into the hospital, your hand clutching your belly, when another contraction comes through you.

“My girlfriend is giving birth!” Dawson says to the nurse behind the reception, his breaths are heavy. You are sitting on the chair, your hands on your belly as you try to keep your breaths steady. “We need a room. VIP room!”

“Sir, we can’t give you a VIP room just like that.” The nurse shook her head, looking at him.

“I’m Dawson Mercer, the Devils hockey player!”

“Oh, yeah, sorry Mr. Mercer,” she swallows and starts typing something on the computer. “The room is ready, I send two nurses with you, they’ll help you with everything!”

“Come on mommy,” the doctor says from between your legs. “I already see the head. A few pushes and she’s out!” your breaths are heavy, sweat dripping down your forehead. Dawson is standing next to you, gripping your hand tightly, pressing kisses on your head.

“You’re doing amazing, love, just a few more minutes! You can do it!” he whispers in your hair, hissing when your grip on his hand tightness. You take in a deep breath and start to push.

“Here we go, momma! Keep pushing!” the doctor says. You can feel your pussy outstretch, pain shooting through your body. You let out a whimper, not wanting to scream.

“Last one push, mom! You can do it!” the doctor says, looking at you to make sure, you’re okay. You just nod pushing for the last time. The moment, the baby’s crying fills the room, you let out a sob, closing your eyes. You can feel Dawson’s lips on your forehead, while his tears drop down on your forehead.

“I’m so proud of you, my love!” he whispers in your ear, kissing your lips. “So fucking proud of you, baby.” His voice is shaky from the sobs he’s holding inside him.

“I love you!” your voice is trembling, from the exhaustion, and the pain that is shooting up your body.

“Here you go mom, the girl is healthy, she’s 19 inches tall, and she has a beautiful 7 pounds,” The nurse says as she places the baby girl on your bare chest. “You can try to give your breast if she wants your milk. If not, it’s completely okay!” you just nod, taking your breast in your hand, and moving your nipple to the baby's mouth. She’s lying calmly on your chest, her big brown eyes, are looking curiously at you, a small smile resting on your lips. The baby immediately sucks on your nipple, focusing on getting the milk.

“You did amazing, Mrs. y/l/n. One of the most quick and amazing patients I had. We’ll get you your room when we clean you and run some tests on the baby, to make sure the baby is really healthy,” he smiles at you, and then at Dawson, who’s eyes are focused on your baby. “Your family can visit you in a few hours, and by the way, congratulations, on the devil's win tonight.” The doctor directs his voice at Dawson who snaps his head toward him, a surprised look on his face.

“They won?” A smile is resting on his lips, just like on your lips.

“Yeah, 5:2. The boys said, the goals were scored for your daughter.” That makes tears well up in your eyes. You love the devils so much; they are your family.

“Oh my god, I have to text them as soon, as we’re in the room.” Dawson looks back at you, a big smile on his face.

“We have to take a picture,” you say, a hoarse voice coming from your throat, because of the last few hours without water. “And send it to them.”

“Here, drink it up.” The doctor hands you a glass of water. You drink the whole glass, laying your head back on the pillow.

“Thank you.” You mumble, a small smile on your lips when you look down on your girl.  

“Okay, now, we run the tests and clean you, then you can go to your room and your family can visit you, but I encourage you to be quieter because the baby will probably sleep, just like you.” The doctor says the last thing he wants and makes his way to do his job again.

[missqhughes]

DANCING WITH THE DEVIL | J. HUGHES86

-> jack hughes x fem!reader

-> contains: smut with plot, rough sex, semi public sex, other sexual themes, use of y/n, lowercase intended

-> IN WHICH: jack invites y/n to a night out with his teammates, and can’t control the jealousy that boils in him watching the other players enjoy your company. the only thing that can reassure to him you’re really his, resides in the bathroom of the bar.

-> request :) quick one, but i had fun writing it, yall remind me to do more for jack! just imagine he looks like the photo in this fic, lookin so SEXYY. please love it as much as i do!

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

jack was usually a casual drinker.

tonight being different; slamming down beers like a madman watching y/n talking, laughing, joking with his teammates.

sure, his arm was snaked around her waist and her body was hooked to his, but that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t appreciate how all of them suddenly turned into comedians now that he had brought her out.

“hey y/n, down to take another shot?” dawson waved her over to the other side of the bar, and she innocently agreed.

“i’ll be right back jack, okay?” she kissed him on the cheek, leaving a light pink lip mark left on his face.

“okay, but come back here when you’re finished,” he said, eyes following her all the way to dawson and jesper. he knew that she had no ill intent, that she was just trying to get along with his friends. but something about watching her skip around in a short dress around them set it off inside him.

he, yet again, ordered another beer, the cool liquid failing to cure the fire starting in his body.

jack decided he actually didn’t want her hanging out with them alone, so he walked over to where they were, reclaiming his position around her waist.

“hi babe,” she said, holding her small hand on top of his, “everything okay?”

“just fine. what are you guys laughing about?”

“dude, she is just so funny, you got a good one hughes, maybe you should crack a joke from time to time like her,” jesper joked, dawson nodding his head in agreement whilst sipping his own drink.

jack’s jaw tightened with anger, but not wanting it to get the best of him, he just stormed off in pursuit of the restroom.

the group left behind looked confused in jack’s departure, leveling in an awkward silence.

“i’m gonna… im gonna go see if he’s okay,” she sat up off the stool, smoothing down her dress, following in jacks footsteps.

knocking on the door of the single bathroom, she gently spoke “baby? is everything alright?” she heard nothing for a second, thinking he was just feeling sick. as she spun on her heel to go back to the bar, she shrieked when a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the bathroom.

“no, not everything is alright.” he said bluntly, backing her into the cold tile wall.

“well what’s wrong? you just like, stormed away from everyone with no explanation.” she rubbed his arms soothingly, trying to understand what was making her boyfriend so worked up.

“the guys. they’re fucking all over you and it’s pissing me off,” jack huffed, leaning his forehead press against hers.

“jack, you know i love you, and you know your teammates would never hit on me. they were just being nice,”

for whatever reason, y/n being so innocent about the whole situation was turning him on more than the short tight dress she had on, or the intoxicating smell lingering on her skin.

“you don’t get it… i know how guys are..” his head moved down to deliver sloppy kisses to her neck, “you’re all mine, no one else can have you,”

y/n’s breath hitched, hot and bothered from the alcohol and jack sucking on her neck,

“mm, of course i am, all yours,” her voice trailed off into bliss, jacks hands roughly grabbing her wrists and pinning them against her head. his wet lips went to claim hers, kissing her with everything in him.

it all happened so fast; jack moved her body with ease, bending y/n’s body over the sink, hand moving under her dress to rub her clothed clit.

she muffled her moan with her hand, jack’s eyes dark in the reflection staring back at her,

“please jack,”

“please what, baby?”

“more, mm fuck,” she threw her head back, feeling her pussy dripping onto his fingers as his movements on her clit slowed.

“you asked for it,” he husked, moving her panties to the side, slipping down his pants exposing his dick, aching for attention.

he aligned himself with her entrance, and she hissed when he started slamming into her with no time to adjust to his length.

“my fucking slut, letting me fuck you in the bathroom like this,” jack mumbled, his shirt tucked into his teeth, abs flexing with every thrust into her.

the pain turned in to pleasure, and the moans escaping y/n’s mouth, the tears running down her cheeks, and her chest bouncing made him go crazier and crazier.

jack grabbed a fistful of y/n’s hair, she gasped as he pulled her head back to kiss her roughly, biting her hard enough to almost draw blood.

his thrusts became sloppier, coming close to his high, and she was right there with him. a few more pumps and he came inside her, her walls covered with his release, y/n’s own juices coating his dick.

the couple panted, jack groaning as he pulled himself out of her, adjusting y/n’s clothing before fixing himself back into his pants.

y/n could barely stand, completely fucked out. jack held her up against his chest, placing a kiss lightly to her shoulder.

“may wanna fix your makeup before you go back out, pretty girl,” he laughed, his own appearance a giveaway; the hair under his hat was ever so slightly damp from sweat, and his cheeks a flush of red.

she rolled her eyes, examining herself in the mirror and blotting away any of the streaky makeup on her face. they walked out hand in hand, and sat down next to his friends.

“hey- woah, what the hell happened to you two in there?”

“have some fun in the bathroom eh? why they took so long,”

y/n’s face burned with embarrassment, turning to bury herself into his chest, and he only only laughed in response, proud that they knew what the two of them had done.

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[zegrasdrysdale]

sooo as promised ... i am slightly expanding the players i write for. read v carefully bc i've also decided that i am not going to write for someone as well

additions to who i will write for : matthew tkachuk, matt rempe (yes, you read that right) & dawson mercer

who i will no longer write for : john marino (i love him but i find it so hard to write for him)

with the new additions, i have updated the taglist form so if you would like to be tagged for any of the new players that i have added, redo the form and i will delete your original form if you decide to do it again

all this being said, i have decided to open requests ONLY for these new players (especially since i have been asked abt rempe). i will not write a new request for anyone that has been on the list of players i do write for

see y'all soon w a new fic !!

[huggybearluvr]

can i request a smut with dawson Mercer that it’s a Hughes sister and her and mercs get drunk and hook up?

sheets | dm91

pairing: dawson mercer x hughes!reader

summary: You woke up in an unknown bedroom, the actions of the previous night slowly coming back to you, as you lay besides your brothers teammate and friend.

warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, use of pet names, p in v (unprotected).

Masterlist

You slowly woke up to the sun's light shining through the window, your eyes fluttered open taking in the room around you.

You had no idea whose room you were in, you hand quickly rose to your face rubbing at your eyes.

You felt a body beside you to which you ignored trying to remember the events of last night.

-

You sat at the bar in your little black dress, already a few drinks in waiting on your refill.

"How you doing tonight?" Dawson, your brothers teammate approached sitting beside you.

"i'm doing great," You smiled ,"And yourself pretty boy?" You asked feeling the confidence of the alcohol to finally flirt with the boy you have had a crush on since you moved to jersey.

He smiled placing his hand to you leg," 'm doing great, better now though."

You smiled up at him.

"What do you say we get out of here?" He asked with a smirk.

"I'd say let's go now," You smiled standing from the bar stool taking his hand.

-

Your hand rubbed at your head, you turned over to see the man beside you.

Dawson. You really did leave with him.

-

His hands were exploring your body as he carried you into his apartment.

He went straight to his bedroom setting you on the bed, to strip himself of his clothes, watching as you did the same.

He was quick to push you onto your back, smiling as he leaned in to meet your lips.

He slowly trailed his lips down your neck to your chest littering your skin with hickies, claiming you.

As his lips tugged at your sensitive nipples, you moaned out, lacing your fingers into his hair tugging at the roots, He pulled back smiling as he dropped to his knees.

He slowly kissed down your thighs, moving his hand to rub your clit with his thumb applying the perfect amount of pressure.

"Mhh, Daws more, please," You begged out at the feeling.

He inched his way to your clit moving his hand as his tongue dipped between your glistening folds.

You hand made its way back into his hair as his tongue circled your clit in figure eights.

His finger slowly slid into you pressing against your walls.

He continued his attack on your clit slowly slipping in another finger working you to your orgasm his other hand pumping his cock.

"Fuck Daws, m' so close," You moaned out grinding your hips creating more friction against his tongue and fingers.

"Mhmm gonna cum on my tongue baby?" He moaned against your pussy the vibrations sending a shiver down your spine.

"Mhmm," You moaned out continuing your movement against his tongue your orgasm taking over as your movements sped up, Dawson never stopping.

He pulled back, "God, you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that," He smiled, pulling himself up to position himself on top of you.

He pumped his cock lining it up with your entrance before pushing himself inside, "Fuck, baby feels so good," He said throwing his head back at the feeling.

After waiting a moment for you to adjust to his size he pulled back out leaving just the tip inside you before plunging himself back inside you, creating a steady rhythm inside you.

"God baby want you to be mine," He moaned out.

"Then make me yours, Daws," You moaned out pulling him down to meet your lips in a rough kiss.

You moaned into his mouth as his hand came in contact with your clit rubbing slow circles.

"Mhmm baby, you wanna be my girl?" He asked his eyes staring straight into yours.

"Wanna be your girl Daws," You muffled out at the feeling of his cock pounding straight into your g-spot.

"Good girl," He smirked, pushing himself faster inside you, working to reach both your orgasms.

As his hand sped up against your clit working in sync against his movements inside you, you moaned out slowly unraveling around his cock, He smirked speeding his movements to push you through out your orgasm.

As your legs shook around him he pulled out, pumping his cock in his hand, releasing his cum onto your stomach.

"mhhh, what a good fucking girl, covered in my cum," He smirked down at you.

"Let's get you cleaned up baby," He said with a smile taking your hand walking you to his bathroom.

He turned on the shower starting it for the pair of you.

After you shower, he gave you one of his devils t-shirts to sleep in.

You slid it over your head with smile following him into his bed. He grabbed you waist pulling you closer to him.

"What do you say baby, be my girl?" He asked with a sweet smile.

You smiled leaning over to kiss him," I'd say I would love to be your girl, Daws."

-

As you laid in his bed, you rolled over laying your head onto his chest. His eyes fluttered open, his arms wrapping around you, "Good Morning."

"Morning," You smiled looking up at the boy.

You reached over to the night stand grabbing your phone seeing it was filled with messages and calls from your brothers.

You groaned, Looking at the message asking why you were at Dawsons. You soon heard a knock at the door your eyes going wide.

"I think that might be my brothers," You spoke laughing.

"Do you wanna get it?" He asked closing his eyes, " I don't wanna get up."

"Yeah, I'll get it," You got out of bed slipping on a pair of Dawson's sweats walking out of the bedroom.

You walked over to the door unlocking it and pulling it open.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jack said as him and Luke entered the apartment.

"Are these Dawson's clothes?" Luke asked as he pointed out your current appearance.

"God enough questions my head is pounding," You spoke, as you looked over to see Dawson walking out of the bedroom.

He looked up to the door," What are you guys doing here?"

The boy just looked at him and then looked at you.

"Are you to together?" Luke blurted out. You honestly weren't sure if Dawson remembered the conversation form last night.

"Yeah we are," He spoke as he began making some coffee.

You smiled over at him then to your brothers, "Now shoo, I know you have much better places to be," You said as you shooed your brothers out of the apartment.

You then walked over to Dawson, taking a cup from him as you both went over to sit on the couch.

You smiled looking at him, "I'm glad they didn't kill you."

"Me too."

[babydollmarauders]

IF THIS WAS A MOVIE — DAWSON MERCER

dawson mercer x fem!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which y/n and Dawson fought before he left for New Jersey and now y/n has regrets.

notes: this takes place in March of 2023. i cried writing this, but that could just be me because i’m a sensitive and emotional baby. (4.6k words)

i was pathetic.

utterly pathetic.

i knew so, my friends said so, even my family said so.

it’s been six months and i still can’t bring myself to do anything besides regret everything that went down last September.

*** September 12th, 2022 ***

“why are you waiting until the day before i’m supposed to leave, to tell me this?” he fumes, glancing at me with glaring eyes as i sink back onto the mattress.

“i wasn’t sure how to tell you, Daws.” i reply meekly. my fingers fumble together, an anxious tick that’s plagued me since grade school.

“how are you just gonna leave me like this?” Dawson huffs, halting his packing in order to stare me down, and i know that no answer i give him will be good enough right now.

“i’m not leaving you, Dawson. i’m just-” i pause, mulling over the right words for a moment. “deferring the move for a couple of months.”

“right.” he nods. “and then you’ll defer it for a few more months, right? until finally i get back and you never had to move at all?”

“thats not what’s happening!”

i scare myself with my unnaturally raised voice. i’m not usually one to lose my temper, but the fact that he’s not understanding my reasoning and seeing where i’m coming from, instead accusing me of things i would never do, has me frustrated.

“when have i ever given you the impression that i wasn’t gonna move at all? there are just a few loose ends i have to tie up here before i can move to another country for you!”

“for me?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “this is for us!”

“it’s your dream Dawson, not mine. but i’m willing to make the sacrifice of leaving home, if you just give me the time!”

he lets out a hollow laugh, sending chills down my spine at the empty sound.

“how much time do you need? we already did long distance for my rookie year. the plan was always for you to join me this season! it’s not my fault that you didn’t time things out accordingly!”

“i never said it was your fault! you’re putting words in my mouth!” i shout, rising from the end of the bed in order to seem more confident. “i’m just saying that i have some things to do, and i’ll drive down, with all my stuff, in a couple months!”

“it’s not that easy! i can’t help you move in once the season is going!” he reminds me, as if i haven’t already thought about that.

“i know, and that’s fine! i can do it on my own!” i tell him. “i just can’t up and leave right now! i’ll move down in November!”

“that’s what you say now.” he rolls his eyes, zipping up the duffel bag that holds some of the clothes and gear that he keeps here in my apartment.

“why do you keep saying that?” i screech. i don’t understand these assumptions he’s making, that i’ll never join him in New Jersey.

“because that’s what’s gonna happen! you don’t love me enough to move, just say it! instead of putting the move off until we’ve grown apart and you don’t have to make it!”

“get out.” the words slip past my lips before i even have the time to think them through. his eyes widen in surprise, but i refuse to keep fighting with him about this. “if you think that lowly of me, then just leave. if we’re just gonna fight, then i don’t wanna talk to you.”

i stomp through the hallways, trailing behind him, and i watch him leave my first floor apartment, heading straight for his car. i slam the door shut behind him, twisting the lock and letting my forehead fall against the door with a thud.

i turn, pressing my back against the door and allowing my body to slide down until my butt rests against the floor. thinking over the entire fight, tears fill my eyes now that i’m alone.

what just happened?

he’ll come back. he has to.

right?

*** PRESENT ***

he never came back.

in fact he hasn’t contacted me since that fight. completely ghosting me. shunning me out of his bright new life.

i still wake up most mornings, reaching out towards the cold sheets of the right side of the bed, expecting him to be there. his bright smile and his infectious body temperature, like my own personal space heater. but i know he’s not there, and i’m not sure he’ll ever occupy that space again.

and now i lay confined to the left side of the bed, my body still unconsciously trained not to sprawl out.

the thin white sheet that covers my body doesn’t do much to protect me from the cold Newfoundland air that seeps in through my broken bedroom window, but i make no move to get up.

it’s long past noon on my day off, but i only woke an hour ago; having been up late into the night, thinking back what felt like a thousand memories of Dawson and i, trying to distract myself of the deafening silence that resulted to my own heartbeat in my ears.

back when we were together and happy.

in high school, when we met.

when i attended his QMJHL games, and when we would go out to eat afterwards, him listening to whatever mindless gossip i had learned through my friends, and me nodding along to his hockey talk and the stories of what stupid things his teammates did before that days game.

when he met my parents for the first time, and when i met his.

when he would get annoyed that we were persuaded to bring his siblings with us places, and i would lace our hands together while he drove, encouraging him to tune out his brother and sister arguing in the back seat over who got to control the music.

back when we had the kind of love that i only ever thought existed in movies.

i reach over to my nightstand, retrieving my phone. and despite knowing this would only hurt me more, i click into my camera roll, entering the still open photo album of our relationship.

i restart at the beginning, the very first photo we ever took together. when we were only fourteen and didn’t know where life would take us. we were strictly friends at the time, meeting through our other friends, who thought we would be cute together.

then i get to the photos when we were fifteen. when Dawson asked me to the 2017 valentine’s dance at school. when we finally started dating. when we were in that awkward stage of finding what our relationship was like now that we had taken the next step.

getting to the pictures of us when we were sixteen was like watching a romantic movie. most were taken after his games, some taken by friends while i kissed him in congratulations of a win or hugged him after a loss. the honeymoon year.

then came the videos. seventeen year old us thought we were the cutest. two years together meant we were a lot more comfortable around each other. videos of him doing face masks with me. of us dancing around his kitchen at two in the morning, nothing providing light besides the open refrigerator.

year three of our relationship was a little trickier. eighteen and we were graduating high school, with plenty of pictures in our caps and gowns to prove it. the year he got drafted by the Devils. that was the year that it really sunk in that he would eventually be leaving. that year, i spent most nights wrapped in his arms, no matter where we were. pictures of me on his lap, his arms holding me to him tight, our friends laughing around us, but we were only paying attention to each other. that was the same year that he held me as i cried and whispered promises in my ear that the future distance would do nothing to us. ‘nothing’s gonna change. not for me and you. we’re invincible. we love each other too much to let anything come between us.’ he had whispered, and i believed him.

year four, we spent every waking moment we could together, because we knew the inevitable would happen and he would have to leave in the fall for his NHL debut. photos of him fishing, with me by his side and reading a book. videos of us singing in the car, our hands gripped tightly together, as though we thought the tighter we held on, the more likely it would be that we get through the eventual distance. videos his sister took of me at his debut game, screaming and bursting with pride after he recorded his first NHL point. lots of facetime screenshots and photos from my trips down to visit him in New Jersey.

and finally, i reach year five. a multitude of pictures from when i visited him for our five year anniversary in Jersey. more facetime screenshots as we endured the last few months of long distance until he finally came home for the off-season. those are quickly followed up by early morning pictures i took of him asleep in my bed. i longed for the nights that he would sleepover, and whenever he did choose to stay the night rather than driving back home, my heart would burst with contentment.

the trip down memory lane ends there. we never reached year six, just shy of five months away from it when we had our final fight. it was a month ago now that we would’ve reached that milestone, and i guess that’s when it became all too real for me. when i fell back into the tight hold of regret and i started thinking about him more often than i didn’t. thinking about him being out there somewhere, possibly moving on from me; from us; it feels like a kick to the gut.

we may have had the kind of love from movies, but if this was a movie he would’ve come back by now.

why didn’t he come back?

the thought rattles in my brain as i finally get up from my bed, deeming four in the afternoon an acceptable time to finally start my day.

i run my hands down my face, slightly surprised to pull them away with tears coating my palms. i hadn’t even realized i was crying.

i run through my usual routine lazily; brush my teeth, wash my face, brush my hair, get changed, make something to eat.

i spend most of the next few hours lounged on the couch, binge watching netflix, and another hour eating a snack and mindlessly scrolling through tiktok. and when the clock strikes nine, i do the same thing i’ve been doing for the past six months. the exact thing that my friends and family have told me is probably the reason i can’t move on; i turn on the Devils game.

they play against Carolina tonight, and i’m eager to watch Dawson continue his point streak. last night he officially hit twelve games, with twenty points within those twelve, and i fully believe that he could beat Taylor Hall’s record of nineteen straight games with a point.

however, as the game stretches on, Dawson doesn’t make a point. in fact, his entire demeanor seems off tonight and i flood with worry.

is he feeling okay?

is he feeling burnt out?

what can i do to help?

nothing. i remember. i can’t do anything to help, because he’s not mine to help anymore.

not since six months ago today.

when the game ends —with Dawson’s point streak officially ended— i make myself a quick dinner before popping some sleeping pills, forcing myself to sleep in order to avoid any more thoughts of my ex; and in my sleep drug induced haze, i vaguely remember opening my camera roll before i fall asleep, phone still in hand.

i thought he’d come back by now.

**

the next two weeks go by uneventfully. my days dragging on, consisting only of work, family dinners, watching Dawson’s games, and lounging in my apartment.

it’s on the fifteenth day, that my friends are able to drag me out of my bubble. coaxing me out of my apartment with the promise of free drinks and taking my mind off of my ex-boyfriend.

but despite their well meant intentions, i’m still checking my phone for the Devils vs Islanders score every few minutes.

“y/n,” Taylor starts, holding out her hand and leveling me with a disappointed glare. “give me your phone.”

“what?” i stare at her in shock, my lips resting in a parted position. “no.”

“no?” she blinks, clearly surprised by the refusal. “babes, you gotta stop checking that score. give it here.”

i hesitate, my gaze fluttering between her outstretched hand and my iphone.

“gimme,” she urges. “i’ll keep it safe. promise.”

she crosses her finger over her heart before holding her hand out again, and this time, i finally hand over the prized possession.

“i want it back when you drop me off.” i remind her, just as Kenzie comes back with a tray of shots.

“and i will totally do that, i swear.” Taylor nods.

“what are we talking about?” Kenzie chimes, sliding a shot to each of us.

“she took my phone.”

“oh good!” she grins. “i thought i was gonna have to be the bad guy and do it.”

Taylor shakes her head before raising her shot glass, Kenzie and i following suit.

“to the first time in history that we’ve all been single at the same time.” Taylor chants, and technically she’s not wrong.

since our friendship started, at the age of thirteen, at least one of us has always had a boyfriend. and for five straight years, that someone was me. but the reminder doesn’t help cheer me up, nor does it distract me from the fact that he left.

Kenzie grimaces at our friends words, shaking her head.

“what? bad toast?” Taylor asks, her nose scrunching. “sorry, hun. my bad.”

i shrug, feigning nonchalance, and we all down our shots. the burn of the liquor provides a nice distraction, taking my mind away for a moment as i focus solely on taking a sip of soda to rid myself of the taste.

“oh god, tequila?” i shudder, my face contorting in disgust, but Kenzie just laughs.

“hey! i shelled out the money for the good shit! this is no in-the-trash tequila!” she defends.

‘in-the-trash’ being a term we’ve used since we could even start drinking at nineteen, just meaning an alcohol that makes us end the night with our head in a trash can.

“all tequila is in-the-trash tequila, Kenz.” i chuckle as she hands me another shot.

“c’mon, drink up.” she grins. “we have a whole night of wild debauchery ahead of us.”

“i’m gonna be nursing a wicked hangover tomorrow, aren’t i?”

*

it’s hours later, nearly two in the morning, when i’m dropped off at home by an uber. i’m heavily inebriated, my head spinning and my sense of judgment completely gone.

i slump against my front door, digging through my purse to retrieve my keys, before i let myself in. i’m barely into the apartment when i strip myself of my shoes, my keys being thrown on the entryway table along with my purse, which topples over on its side.

from the sideways purse slides my phone and my brows thread together in confusion.

when was the last time i had seen that?

did Taylor put that in there when i wasn’t looking?

or had she given it back to me and i just forgot?

at the sight of the device, the entire reason it got taken from me in the first place comes rushing back. i grab the phone from the table, turning it back on as i clumsily make my way to my bedroom, slumping onto my bed.

i squint, blinking a few times at the brightness that emerges from the screen within the pitch black room. clicking into the espn app, the heart plummets as i see the final score.

Devils lose, 1-5. and maybe it’s the alcohol in my system, heightening my emotions, but my heart breaks for my ex and his team and i want nothing more than to comfort him like i used to.

so with the confidence i could only have when drunk, and no one around to stop me, i pull up his contact, clicking the call button.

it rings, on and on until it finally chimes with his voicemail, and the sound of his voice makes my heart leap in my chest.

oh how i’ve missed his voice.

it beeps again, letting me know i can leave message, and instead of hanging up, like i would with anyone else, the words spill out of my mouth.

“hi, Daws. i’m so sorry about your loss tonight. and i’m sorry about your point streak too. i really thought you could beat the record.”

tears gather at my waterline, my voice beginning to shake as my throat grows thick. this is the first time i’ve called him since that night.

“but i’m- god i’m really so mad at you. you left me, and you didn’t come back. no calls, no texts. did five years mean nothing? i know people change, and these things happen; and i know i said i didn’t wanna talk to you but- this is me officially taking it all back now, okay?”

a sob wracks my chest, and i let my tears flow freely in the comfort of my darkened bedroom.

“i just— i love you so much. and i miss you. i thought you’d come back. you can still come back, if you’d just say you’re sorry. please, come back.”

my thumb smacks down on the red button, ending the call, and i power my phone down, chucking it beside me on the bed.

my cries grow louder and i feel as though i could drown in my own tears. rolling onto my side, my body curls into the fetal position and i wrap my arms around my legs. it feels like i lay like that forever until i’m cried out, my eyelids growing heavier and heavier until i can hold them open no longer, letting myself fall asleep.

i’m woken in the morning to the sun peeking through the curtains that i seemingly forgot to close last night in my drunken stupor.

when did i get home last night?

how many drinks did i have?

stretching out my body, i sit up in my bed, reaching over to my nightstand to retrieve my phone to check the time, but it’s not there. my hands pat through the sheets, finally discovering the device on the other side of the bed, and i power it on.

my head pounds, the room spinning and light nausea flooding over me from my hangover.

i’m never drinking again.

the time on my phone reads noon, and i’m not shocked by how long i slept. considering i can barely remember anything that happened after my seventh shot last night, i’m surprised i’m not still dead to the world.

i notice some notifications, but refuse to scroll through them, not ready to face the ‘how dead are we all feeling?’ texts from my friends yet. so rather than staying on my phone, i leave it on my bed as i get up and run through my routine.

i brush my teeth before hopping in for a quick shower, hoping that it’ll help rid me of my hangover, before i get dressed and go to the kitchen to retrieve a gatorade and make myself breakfast.

i stand in front of my living room window as i drink my gatorade, peering through the glass at the gray sky. it seems that the weather is matching my gloomy mood, as it begins to pour rain from the dark clouds.

sighing, i return to my couch, turning on the tv and flipping through the channels until i get distracted by the NHL Network, which replays last nights Devils game, and i can’t convince myself to change it.

the camera pans to Dawson’s face and he looks entirely disappointed by the low score of his team.

if only i could cheer him up.

how i would love to be able to hug him again.

how i would love to see him at my front door again, like i would’ve a few years ago after a QMJHL game. when he would show up after a lost game that i couldn’t attend, and my mother would just shake her head at his appearance but ultimately smile at the way he wrapped his arms around me.

but that was then, and this is now. in an alternate reality, maybe i’m in Jersey with him right now, his head on my chest as i talk him through the loss, but in this reality, we’re broken up, and that doesn’t seem to be changing any time soon. eventually, i’ll have to accept that our lives weren’t meant to intertwine forever. time wasn’t in our favor, and fate wasn’t in our cards.

it’s four in the afternoon when a knock sounds at my door, loud and obnoxious as i try to focus on the movie that now plays on my television. grumbling to myself as i stand up, i assume it’ll be Taylor or Kenzie stopping by to check in on me after i’ve avoided their texts.

but when i open the door, time seems to freeze, and i decide my eyes must be deceiving themselves. i slam the door shut again, blinking a few times before i open it once more, but my eyes are working fine.

standing in the rain, outside of my apartment door, is Dawson.

“i— what—” i stutter, unsure of what to do or say. my heart races in my chest and i can’t decide whether i’m more nervous or excited to see him. “what are you doing here? why aren’t you in Jersey?”

“you asked me to come back.” his voice is like melted butter, just as smooth as i remembered it. his eyes accentuated by dark circles from apparent lack of sleep, but they’re still that soft brown that i’ve always loved so much, his gaze soft as he stares back at me.

“what?” confusion drips from the single word, but then the memory comes flooding back to me. getting home last night, checking the game score, calling him. “you came back… because i asked you to?”

he steps forward, and with the light from inside reflecting against his eyes and lighting up his face amongst the gray clouded skies, my heart drops. i’ve missed him so much, and now that he’s back here in front of me, i’m questioning it?

“i would do anything if you asked me to.” he speaks hesitantly. “i’m sorry, y/n.

“i’m sorry i accused you of not wanting to move with me— of not loving me enough. i let my insecurities and my fears that you would get tired of barely seeing me and leave me, get the best of me. i’m sorry i left that night without fighting to stay. fighting for us. i’m sorry that i didn’t talk to you, i thought it was what you wanted, but i see how stupid i was for that now. i’m sorry that i made you wait so long for me to come back, but i’m here now. to apologize and to get you back, because i still love you so much and i don’t know if i can take another day of not having you anymore.”

tears roll slowly down my cheeks at his words and i open the door farther, ushering him inside before i speak. my hands come up to hold his face, my eyes gazing into his.

“i’ve been waiting for you every day since you’ve been gone.” i whisper, my voice shaky. “i thought you were gone forever, and i was still waiting. because deep down i’ve always known that you are it for me, Dawson Mercer. if i didn’t have you, i didn’t want anyone else.

“i didn’t think you wanted me anymore. and some part of me accepted that, but a larger part of me just kept hoping and praying that you would come back. Daws, i would much rather spend nine months only having some of you, than forever having none of you.”

his head dips down, lips meeting mine, not even minding the salty tears that have run over my lips. kissing him again is like breathing for the first time in six months. like a natural instinct that i finally gained access to again, and when he pulls away, i pull him back down, not ready to give it up again.

finally, i pull back just enough to breath in deep, replacing the lack of oxygen in my lungs.

“i love you.” he whispers, his lips still brushing against mine, and a smile breaks out upon my face, pecking a kiss on his own small smile.

“i love you too.” i tell him, retreating to look in his eyes. “i do have a question, though.”

“anything.” he nods, prepared to answer anything i throw at him.

“are you stupid?!” i lightly smack his arm and his brows furrow in confusion. “shouldn’t you be in Jersey, practicing so you can beat the Rangers on thursday?”

he laughs, pulling my body in closer against his.

“i should.” he nods. “but i took a maintenance day, so i could win back my biggest fan. i do have to be back for practice tomorrow, but, i was hoping maybe you’d come with me.”

my heartbeat picks up at his confession and the nervous expression painted across his face after he says it, but i nod and his face lights up.

“really?” he questions, and i’m overwhelmed with excitement, nodding again.

“yeah, Daws, i’ll go anywhere with you.”

“in that case, our flight leaves in a few hours…” he grimaces and my eyes widen as i step back.

“i gotta pack. i gotta go online and put in to use my paid time off.” i freeze, dread filling my senses. “i have to tell Taylor and Kenzie i won’t make girls night for a month.”

Dawson’s head drops back in laughter before he looks back at me again, sporting a smirk. “a bit longer than that, i think you’re forgetting, we’re going to the playoffs.”

“oh my god, two months.” i stare back at him in joking horror. “oh they’re gonna hate you.”

“me? you’re the one skipping out on girls night!” he calls out, following me into my bedroom as i begin throwing clothes into a suitcase.

“yeah, but they could never hate me. you? they’ve already disliked for six months.” he shrugs, nodding at my words.

“fair enough.” he replies, helping me grab shirts off of hangers and pack them away into my suitcase. “you think they’ll ever like me again?”

i hum in thought, “i don’t know, maybe once they hear about how you flew back for only a mere few hours to apologize to me in the rain.”

“and i’d do it again.” he grins, pulling my body to his, my back against his chest. he buries his face in my neck, nipping at my skin and making me laugh.

maybe our love is like the movies, we just had to suffer through the ‘third act breakup’ in order to get to our happy ending.

[lfghughes]

just a girl who needs some dawson mercer requests sent in

[brainddeadd]

Meeting Quinn

The atmosphere in the Prudential Center buzzed with excitement. It wasn’t just any game night—tonight, the Vancouver Canucks were in town, and it was the first time YN would meet Jack and Luke’s big brother, Quinn. She knew how much Jack and Luke looked up to him, so the nerves were creeping in, even though she’d never admit it out loud.

As she laced up her skates in the locker room, Jack noticed the small, anxious frown on her face.

"Nervous to meet Quinn?" he asked, nudging her with his elbow. He had that signature mischievous grin, the one that always meant he knew something she didn’t want to admit.

"Maybe a little," YN replied, tying her skates a little tighter than necessary. "He’s your big brother, and he’s the Canucks’ captain—what if he thinks I’m a total rookie?"

Luke, who was sitting beside her, chuckled. "Quinn’s gonna love you, don’t worry. Besides, if we trust you on the ice, he will too."

Dawson Mercer, who was getting ready nearby, chimed in with a teasing smile. "Yeah, but he might give you the Hughes Brothers' official stamp of approval, so no pressure."

"Thanks, Dawson," YN muttered sarcastically, though a grin was sneaking its way onto her face.

Nico Hischier, always the calm, steady captain of the Devils, gave her a reassuring pat on the back. "You’ve got this. And Quinn? He’ll see right away how good you are. He might even ask to trade you to Vancouver," he joked.

YN rolled her eyes, laughing. "Yeah, right. I’m not going anywhere."

As game time approached, the butterflies in YN’s stomach picked up, but once she hit the ice, her focus shifted to the game. Facing Quinn Hughes on the opposing team made things surreal, especially seeing how well he moved—just like Jack and Luke had always described.

The game ended in a hard-fought victory for the Devils, and as the final buzzer rang, Jack skated over to YN, playfully bumping her with his shoulder.

"Ready to meet Quinn now?" he asked.

"Do I have a choice?" she replied with a grin.

After the post-game handshakes, Jack and Luke led YN to where Quinn stood at center ice, still in his Canucks gear, looking every bit the confident leader they had talked him up to be. As soon as he spotted YN, he smiled.

"So, this is the YN I’ve been hearing so much about?" Quinn said, holding out a gloved hand. "You must be pretty special to keep these two in line."

YN grinned, shaking his hand. "I try, but it’s not easy. You know how they are."

Quinn laughed, glancing at Jack and Luke with a fond smile. "Trust me, I do."

"She’s pretty good, though," Luke chimed in, draping an arm around YN’s shoulders. "We kinda treat her like our little sister."

"And she’s way faster than Luke," Jack added with a smirk, earning a mock scowl from his younger brother.

Quinn’s gaze softened, and he nodded. "Well, if these two have your back, then so do I. Welcome to the family, YN."

YN’s cheeks warmed at the gesture. It wasn’t every day that she got such a warm welcome from a rival captain, let alone one who felt like an extension of the family she’d already grown so close to.

Before they left the ice, Dawson skated by, calling out with a laugh, "Hey, Quinn, don’t get any ideas about poaching our star rookie!"

Quinn winked. "No promises, Mercer."

As YN stood there, surrounded by the Hughes brothers and her teammates, she couldn’t help but feel like she truly belonged—on the ice and with her new hockey family.

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Jacked Up Love

part 2

Jack Hughes X Best Friend! Reader

(Brothers Best Friend AU)

a.n: I have been debating whether to add some spice to this but after not seeing it fit my ending yet, it will be in part 4 or 5 instead. this one feels a little short but it's getting the story going until we have our final confrontation. I hope you guys enjoy and please message me if you have any questions or want to be added to the tag list. <3

warnings: flirting, not proofread, fuckboy jack, kissing, cursing, mentions of cheating?

masterlist link

Summary: Hurt and angry, Y/N avoids Jack for most of the night until he confronts her as the party winds down. Just as things are heating up between Y/N and Jack, Lee walks in on Y/N and Jack in an intimate moment.

word count - 4341

...

Jack chuckled as he observed Quinn and his dad bickering good-naturedly over the stove. Quinn kept trying to slather more sauce onto the ribs, much to Jim's exasperation.

"No, no, you're doing it all wrong!" Jim complained, attempting to wrestle the basting brush from Quinn's hand. "You're supposed to let the meat speak for itself, not drown it in that sugary nonsense."

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, live a little! Everyone knows the secret to killer ribs is in the sauce dad."

Their playful argument carried across the large house, drawing amused glances from the other partygoers. Jack shook his head, grinning at their antics. He loved these laid-back gatherings in the winter, where everyone could just kick back and enjoy each other's company.

Turning his attention back to Lee, Jack tried to focus on their conversation about the latest Cardinals game. "...and did you see that pass in the third period?" Lee was saying excitedly, his hands waving animatedly as he recounted the highlights of the game. "I thought for sure they were going to score off that turnover."

Luke nodded, taking a swig of his beer. "Yeah, man, that was a close call. But the goalie really stepped up his game tonight. Those saves were unreal."

They continued to chat, their voices rising and falling with the ebb and flow of their enthusiasm. He tried to focus on the words, but a familiar laugh rang out, causing his heart to skip a beat. Jack's attention drifted from Lee's animated play-by-play of the game, his gaze inexorably drawn to where you stood by the dessert table with your girlfriends.

You were laughing at something Mia had said, your eyes sparkling with mirth. Jack watched, transfixed, as you tipped your head back, exposing the smooth column of your throat. Time seemed to slow as he took in the sight of you, the rest of the party fading into the background.

Lee, oblivious to Jack's distraction, continued chattering on about batting averages and on-base percentages. But Jack was only half-listening, his attention continually drawn back to you. "Hey, Jack! Did you catch that insane goal in overtime?"

Jack merely hummed noncommittally, his tone casual. "Yeah, yeah, I saw that. Pretty sick shot."

His gaze traced the curve of your smile, the fullness of your lips. An ache blossomed in his chest, a longing so acute it stole his breath. What would it feel like, he wondered, to have those lips pressed against his own? To trail his fingers along the silken expanse of your skin, to hear you sigh his name in the darkness?

In a trance, Jack's eyes roamed over you, drinking in every detail. The way your dress clung to your curves, the faint smell of your perfume on the jacket he had offered you outside, which of course you had given back covered in your smell. You were a masterpiece, a work of art come to life.

God, you were beautiful.

And then, as if sensing the weight of his stare, you turned. Your eyes met his across the flickering flames, and the world ground to a halt. In that suspended moment, Jack felt a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins, a pull towards you that was almost gravitational.

Your lips curved into a soft, secret smile, and Jack's heart stuttered in his chest. That smile held a thousand unspoken promises, a wealth of possibility that both terrified and thrilled him. He knew he should look away, knew he was treading on dangerous ground. But he was powerless to resist the magnetic allure of your gaze, the siren song of your presence.

Did you have any idea what you did to him? How much he wanted to pull you into his arms, consequences be damned?

He took a swig of his beer, trying to calm the riot of emotions swirling inside him. This was getting out of hand. He needed to get a grip on himself before he did something stupid.

Like confess his feelings for you, the one girl who was absolutely, completely off-limits...

Shaking his head, Jack forced himself to focus on Lee's words, determined to push all thoughts of you from his mind. At least for now.

But deep down, he knew it was futile. Because when it came to you, resistance had always been impossible. And maybe, just maybe... that was starting to feel more thrilling than frightening.

"Right? I thought the puck was going to bounce right off the crossbar, but nope - top shelf, baby!" Lee nodded, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around him.

…

"No, but seriously," Ava said, her face deadpan, "I think I'm going to start a GoFundMe for my boss's fashion sense. It's a tragedy, really. The man needs an intervention."

Sophie snorted. "What, you mean the 'middle-aged dad on vacation' look isn't working for him?"

"Please," you chimed in, grinning, "I've seen actual dads on vacation with better style. He's more like... a cross between a used car salesman and a cruise ship entertainer."

Mia nearly choked on her drink. "Oh my god, I can't unsee it now. The tacky Hawaiian shirts, the ill-fitting khakis..."

"Don't forget the socks with sandals!" Ava added, shuddering dramatically.

You all burst into laughter, the absurdity of the image too much to handle. Your shoulders shook with mirth, tears of hilarity pricking at the corners of your eyes. But then, gradually, you became aware of a prickling sensation on the back of your neck. The unmistakable feeling of being watched, the stare burning into your skin like a physical caress.

Still giggling, you scanned the crowd of faces, trying to catch the culprit. Your gaze flitted from person to person - Uncle Joe by the cooler, Quinn and Jim still arguing over the grill, a group of Lee's friends from college - but no one seemed to be paying you any attention.

Until your eyes locked with a pair of striking blue ones.

Jack.

The laughter died on your lips as your breath caught in your throat. He was staring at you intensely. The old, faded baseball cap perched backwards on his head did little to tame his unruly dark hair, and the worn grey hoodie he wore strained against the muscles of his chest and shoulders.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you drank him in, heat rising unbidden to your cheeks. In that suspended moment, it was as if everyone else simply fell away, leaving only you and Jack, connected by some invisible, unbreakable thread.

But then Lee came into view, saying something to Jack with an easygoing grin. The spell was broken as quickly as it had been cast, uncertainty flooding in to fill the void.

Swallowing hard, you tore your gaze away, only to find Mia watching you with a knowing smirk. Her green eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter, and you knew you'd been caught red-handed.

"Shut up," you muttered, feeling your face flame even hotter.

Mia held up her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I didn't say anything! But seriously, Y/N, when are you going to put that poor boy out of his misery and jump his bones already?"

"Mia!" you hissed, mortified. "It's not... I can't... he's Lee's best friend!"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "So? That doesn't mean you two can't get your freak on. Just think of how hot the sneaking around would be..."

You buried your face in your hands, torn between laughter and abject horror. "I hate you all. You're the worst friends ever."

Ava slung an arm around your shoulders, grinning. "Nah, you love us. And you know we've got your back, no matter what. Even if 'what' is climbing that tall, dark, and broody tree over there like it's your job."

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn't help but dissolve into giggles once more, your heart feeling lighter than it had all evening.

…

You snuggled deeper into the cozy embrace of the blanket, content to simply bask in the company of your friends. Ava, Mia, and Sophie had settled into the chairs around you, the conversation flowing as easily as the alcohol.

As the minutes ticked by, you found yourself growing increasingly drowsy, the events of the day finally catching up to you. Your eyelids grew heavy, and you had to fight to keep them open. Dimly, you registered Quinn hopping off rib duty, his arm slung around his girlfriend's shoulders as they made their way to the other living room, easily getting swept into his mothers conversation.

A moment later, Lee and Luke disappeared upstairs, their good-natured trash talk about the upcoming NHL game fading as the door swung shut behind them. Suddenly, feeling restless, you stood up - only to sway on your feet, the blanket flopping back down onto the love seat.

The world tilted alarmingly, and for a dizzying second, you were certain you were about to face-plant right into new glass table Ellen had bought.

quick as a flash, strong hands gripped your arms, steadying you. Before you could process what was happening, you found yourself being tugged down onto a solid, warm lap.

"Hi, Mini," Jack's deep, honeyed voice rumbled in your ear, sending a shiver racing down your spine that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. Your heart leapt into your throat, a giddy thrill coursing through you at his close proximity. This was the closest you'd been to him all night, and the heat of his body seemed to seep into your very bones.

Tipping your head back, you met his gaze, a slow smile spreading across your face. There was just something about Jack, something that never failed to bring a grin to your lips and a flutter to your pulse.

Whatever it was, you knew you were hopelessly entangled in his web, caught in a pull that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

"Hi yourself," you murmured, your voice coming out breathier than you'd intended. "You come here often?"

Jack's lips quirked, his arms tightening around your waist. "Well, you know me. I never could resist a damsel in distress."

You laughed, swatting at his chest. "My hero. Whatever would I do without you?"

His expression softened, something tender and unguarded flickering in his gaze. "Guess you'll never have to find out, huh?"

Your breath caught at the unspoken promise in his words, the implications hanging heavy in the scant space between you. Suddenly, the air felt charged, electric, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks.

Awareness prickled over your skin as you stared up at him, your senses hyperattuned to every flex of his fingers on your hip, every hitch in his breathing. The rest of the world seemed to recede, fading into insignificance until there was only this - the crackle of the fire, the pounding of your heart, and the magnetic pull of Jack's eyes on yours.

It would be so easy, you thought hazily, to just lean in and close the distance between you. To finally, finally discover if his lips were as soft as they looked, if he tasted as good as you'd always imagined...

But then a burst of raucous laughter from across the yard shattered the spell, jolting you back to reality. You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks as you realized just how close you'd been to kissing your brother's best friend - in full view of everyone, no less.

Clearing your throat, you started to pull away, only for Jack's arms to tighten around you. "Hey," he said softly, his voice low and intimate. "Where do you think you're going?"

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs. "I... I should probably go check on Lee upstairs. He gets super sensitive over chel, you know that." It was a flimsy excuse, and from the knowing glint in Jack's eyes, he wasn't buying it for a second. But he loosened his hold, nonetheless, letting you slide off his lap on unsteady legs.

"Hurry back," he murmured, his gaze hot and heavy on your skin. "I'll be waiting."

And as you stumbled away, your pulse racing and your mind awhirl, you couldn't help but wonder...

What the hell had you just gotten yourself into?

You knew you needed to be more careful, needed to keep a tighter rein on your reactions to Jack. The last thing you wanted was for Lee to catch on to the tangle of feelings knotting in your chest.

…

You managed to tear yourself away from the magnetic pull of Jack's presence, mumbling some excuse to your friends about needing to use the bathroom. But instead of heading inside, you found yourself climbing the stairs, drawn by the muffled shouts and laughter emanating from Lee's bedroom.

As you reached the top of the landing, the sounds of aggressive button-mashing and colorful trash talk grew louder, bringing a smile to your face. Some things never changed.

Pushing open the door, you were greeted by the sight of Lee and Luke sprawled out on the floor, controllers in hand, their eyes glued to the giant TV screen. They were in the middle of an intense NHL match, their players zipping across the virtual ice in a blur of motion.

"No, no, no!" Lee yelled, his face scrunched up in concentration as he mashed the buttons frantically. "Don't let him get past you, you idiot!"

Luke cackled, his fingers flying over his own controller. "Too late, bro! That's what you get for picking such a weak-ass team."

Lee let out a growl of frustration as Luke's player scored a goal, the tinny sound of a horn blaring from the speakers. "Lucky shot," he grumbled, elbowing his friend in the ribs. "I'll get you back for that."

"Bring it on, loser," Luke taunted, his grin wide and shit-eating. "I could beat you with one hand tied behind my back."

You leaned against the doorframe, shaking your head in amusement as you watched them bicker and shove at each other like overgrown children. It was moments like these that made you forget all about the stresses and uncertainties of adulthood, transporting you back to simpler times.

"Having fun, boys?" you asked, your voice cutting through their competitive banter.

Two heads swiveled in your direction, identical expressions of surprise on their faces. "Oh, hey, Y/N," Lee said, his annoyance melting into an easy smile. "Didn't see you there."

"Yeah, we were just schooling each other in the art of hockey," Luke chimed in, puffing out his chest. "Wanna see me kick your brother's ass?"

You snorted, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering into the room. "As much as I'd love to witness that thrashing, I actually came up to see if you guys wanted any snacks. Though from the looks of it, you've already got enough beef to feed a small army."

Lee rolled his eyes, chucking a pillow at your head which you deftly dodged. "Har har, very funny. But yeah, some snacks would be awesome. I'm starving."

"When are you not starving?" you teased, ruffling his hair affectionately. "I swear, you're like a human garbage disposal."

"Hey, I'm a growing boy!" Lee protested, swatting your hand away. "I need my sustenance."

Luke snickered, ducking as Lee tried to smack him with a controller. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that, buddy. I think you stopped growing in the eighth grade."

As the two dissolved into another round of good-natured ribbing, you couldn't help but laugh, your heart swelling with fondness for these ridiculous, wonderful boys.

They might drive you crazy sometimes, but moments like these? Where you could just relax and joke around, forgetting about all the complications and uncertainties of the real world?

They were priceless.

So you settled yourself on the bed, content to watch Lee and Luke battle it out on the digital ice, their laughter and trash talk washing over you like a balm.

And for a little while, at least, you let yourself forget about the heat of Jack's gaze, the confusion swirling in your heart.

…

you headed back downstairs, the warmth of your impromptu hangout session with Lee and Luke still buzzing pleasantly under your skin, you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of resolve.

So what if you had some complicated, confusing feelings for Jack? So what if his mere presence sent your pulse racing and your thoughts spiraling into dangerous, uncharted territory? At the end of the day, he was like a brother to you - and that was something you couldn't afford to lose.

Squaring your shoulders, you stepped down into the living room, determined to put some distance between yourself and the magnetic pull of Jack's orbit. You'd just grab another drink, maybe chat with your friends for a bit, and then make some excuse about needing to head home early. Easy peasy.

Ava, Mia, and Sophie were huddled together, their heads bent close as they whispered furiously to each other. The easy laughter and playful banter from earlier had vanished, replaced by a tense, almost electric undercurrent that set your nerves on edge.

"Hey guys," you said cautiously, sinking down into your seat. "What's going on?"

Three pairs of eyes snapped to your face, wide and startled, like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Oh, Y/N! We were just..." Mia trailed off, shooting a panicked look at the other two.

Sophie jumped in, her voice a little too bright, a little too brittle. "We were just talking about... boys. You know, the usual."

But there was something off about her tone, something strained and artificial that set your internal alarms blaring. You'd known these girls long enough to tell when they were hiding something - and right now? They were definitely hiding something.

"Cut the crap, Soph," you said, your gaze flicking between the three of them. "I know you guys better than that. Seriously, what's up? You're starting to freak me out."

"Y/N, we need to talk. It's about Jack."

Your stomach dropped, a cold, creeping dread slithering up your spine at the mention of his name, but you tried to play it cool. "What about him?"

Mia and Sophie exchanged a loaded glance, she nodded encouragingly, their faces grim as Mia spoke up, her voice low and conspiratorial. "We overheard him talking to Luke earlier, and... well, he said some things. About you."

Your mind raced, a thousand possibilities whirling through your head. What could she possibly mean? A cold sense of dread trickled down your spine. "What kind of things?"

Sophie bit her lip, looking uncomfortable. "He was laughing about how easy it was to string you along, how you were just another notch in his bedpost. He even said..." She paused, as if gathering her courage. "He said he had a bet going with his teammates to see how fast he could get you into bed."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from your lungs. It couldn't be true. Jack wouldn't... he couldn't...not after tonight.

But even as you tried to deny it, doubt began to creep in, insidious and corrosive. All those moments between you - the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the whispered promises - had they all been a lie? A cruel game played by a master manipulator?

Anger surged through you, hot and bitter, mingling with the sharp sting of betrayal. How could you have been so stupid, so naive?

"I... I need some air," you mumbled, stumbling to your feet and away from the concerned gazes of your friends.

you wove your way through the crowd of laughing, chattering partygoers, a sudden commotion near the edge of the yard caught your attention. Frowning, you craned your neck, trying to get a better look - only for your heart to plummet straight into your stomach.

There, surrounded by his friends near the Christmas tree, was Jack - and he wasn't alone. A tall, stunning brunette was glued to his side, their arms pressed flush against each other as she leaned into him, whispering something in his ear.

For a moment, you couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stare as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over you. Hurt, betrayal, and a searing, white-hot jealousy that took your breath away with its intensity.

You watched, frozen, as Jack threw his head back and laughed at something the girl said, throwing his arm over her shoulder. They looked so comfortable together, so natural - like they'd done this a thousand times before.

And just like that, the fragile bubble of denial you'd been clinging to burst, the illusion shattering like glass at your feet.

You were such a fool.

Of course Jack didn't have feelings for you. Of course he saw you as nothing more than his best friend's kid sister, a silly little girl with a hopeless crush. How could you have ever thought otherwise?

For the rest of the night, you did your best to avoid Jack, always keeping him in your peripheral vision but never letting him get too close. Every time you caught a glimpse of his tousled hair or heard the rumble of his deep laugh, your heart clenched painfully, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over you.

But as the party began to wind down and guests started to trickle out, you found yourself cornered by the one person you'd been desperately trying to evade.

"Y/N." Jack's voice was low and urgent as he caught your elbow, spinning you around to face him.

"Nothing," you managed to choke out, your voice cracking traitorously. "I'm fine. I just... I need to go."

But even as you tried to pull away, Jack's grip on your arm tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with a desperate sort of urgency. "Wait, please. Just talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

You yanked your arm from his grasp, glaring up at him with all the fury and hurt you could muster. "I have nothing to say to you, Jack."

His brow furrowed, confusion etched across his unfairly handsome features. "What's going on? You've been avoiding me all night. Did I... did I do something wrong?"

"Why do you care?" you spat, the words bitter and acidic on your tongue. "Shouldn't you be getting back to your girlfriend over there?" Jack blinked, a flicker of confusion passing over his stupidly handsome face. A harsh, bitter laugh tore from your throat. "Don't play dumb, Jack. I know all about your little bet. About how I'm just another checkmark to you."

Jack's eyes widened, shock and disbelief warring on his face. "What? Y/N, that's insane. I would never... who told you that?"

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest like a shield. "Does it matter? The point is, I know the truth now. I know what kind of guy you really are."

He took a step closer, crowding into your personal space, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. "The truth? The truth is that I'm crazy about you, Y/N. I have been for years." Your heart stuttered in your chest, a traitorous flutter of hope sparking to life. "That girl... she's just a friend. I swear. There's nothing going on between us," he insisted, his voice low and fervent.

One hand came up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that made you ache. "I could never lie to you, Y/N. You're... you're everything to me."

You wanted to believe him. God, how you wanted to believe him. But the seeds of doubt had already taken root, twisting your thoughts into knots.

"I don't... I can't..." you whispered, hating the way your voice shook.

Jack's other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against the solid warmth of his body. "Then let me prove it to you," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Let me show you how much you mean to me."

And then his mouth was on yours, fierce and desperate and achingly perfect, his kiss searing away every last shred of resistance. You melted into him, a broken moan rising in your throat as his tongue swept over yours, claiming and possessing and branding you as his own.

The kiss was electric, a live wire igniting every nerve ending in your body until you felt like you might burst into flames right then and there. His hands slid into your hair, his fingers tangling in the silky strands as he angled your head, deepening the kiss until you were drowning in him, lost to everything but the heat of his touch and the sweet, dark bliss of his mouth on yours.

"It's you, Y/N," he rasped, his voice low and raw with emotion. "It's always been you." 😉

just as you were losing yourself completely in his embrace, a familiar voice cut through the haze of desire, shattering the intimate bubble you'd created. "Where's Y/N?" Lee called out, his footsteps echoing on the stairs.

You and Jack froze, your lips still locked together, your bodies intertwined. What were you doing? Making out with your brother's best friend, in the middle of a party, where anyone could see you...

Jack sensed your sudden tension, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with arousal, but there was a softness there too, a tenderness that made your heart ache.

"Shit," you muttered. Your mind raced, frantically searching for an excuse, any excuse. "I… I'll just tell him I was in the bathroom or we were just talking," you whispered, straightening your clothes with shaking hands.

"Hey," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair back from your face. "It's okay. We don't have to hide."

You swallowed hard, your throat tight with emotion. "But Lee... what if he..."

"What if I what?" Lee's voice was closer now, just on the other side of the door.

Your heart lodged in your throat, fear and guilt and a desperate, wild hope all tangling together in your chest. This was it. The moment of truth. Once Lee walked through that door, there would be no going back.

...

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