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puck-luck · 5 months

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the art of loving you | john marino

warnings: none really, just some sweet anniversary sex between jm and his girl <3 (italics = flashback) pairing: john marino x fem!reader summary: “maybe he gets back from an away game and him and reader have been together for a while so when he gets home its practically desperate the way they want each other and it's like super needy but also intimate because they just know each other like the back of their hands after so long together" wc: 2201

“Hey,” comes John’s soft voice from the darkness of the night. He kneels by your side of the bed and shakes you awake. The sunlight is starting to peek through the curtains. His thumb caresses your cheek, causing you to scrunch your nose from restlessness. “I’m headed to the rink. We’re leaving from there. I’ll be back on Monday, take you to dinner and all.”

“Mmm, okay, baby. Love you,” You slur, voice thick with sleep. You didn’t have to be up for another few hours and normally, you’d pout when John woke you up so early, but things were different. He was headed out on a week-long roadie and he had a game on the west coast on your second anniversary– meaning you two wouldn’t get to spend that together. Despite being sleepy, you pucker your lips to give John a goodbye kiss.

“Love you too,” John whispers, delicately cupping your jaw and pecking your lips twice. “Be back before you know it.”

He stands from his position next to the bed and gathers his things, heading towards the bedroom door.

“Play good,” You call out after him.

“First star every night, just for my girl,” John promises with a smile, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

A week later, John was headed back to Jersey and you had put on your favorite little black dress for your anniversary date. He hadn’t been named first star of the game during any of their games, but he had gotten one of his rare goals on your anniversary, and his celly ended in a kiss blown towards the camera that touched your heart.

You were waiting by the door when John came home and you jump him before he even gets the chance to cross the threshold.

“Hi,” John greets. “Missed you.”

“Missed you,” You reply, arms looped around his neck. You pull him into a hug, feeling his hands wrap around your waist and press your bodies flush against each other.

You two stay in the hug for a few minutes, waiting for your breath to sync and for John to start rocking you from side to side the way he always does when your touch goes on for too long. As much as he loves to touch you, he’s never been one for hugs, unlike you. To you, John’s hugs are like crack and you take your fix anytime you can get it.

“Dinner?” John asks, pulling away and rubbing your arms like he’s warming you up.

“Rezzi at the normal place,” You confirm. You give his chest a firm pat. “Go change. This is our anniversary dinner, after all. Want you to wear something nice.”

“Gonna propose to me or something?” John teases, finally letting the apartment door fall shut behind him.

You drag his suitcase to the bedroom, parking it next to the chair before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Isn’t that your job?”

“All in good time,” John replies, following you down the hall with his hockey bag over his shoulder. He opens the door to the balcony and sets his personal pads out on the chair to air out. He also sets his dirty clothes on the chair– something you’ve chided him for in the past, since he could just throw them in the wash and kill the smell that way.

You watch John change into a suit, smiling widely when he sneaks little peeks at you every few minutes.

“Really did miss you, you know,” John says, focusing on tying his tie in the mirror on the back of the closet door. “Mercer tried to sprinkle rose petals in my locker on our anniversary to make me miss you less.”

“He’s so supportive.” You laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Tried to take me to dinner too,” John continues. “Said he might as well take me out if we were going back to the hotel together anyway. What kind of girl does he take me for?”

“Maybe he was trying to recreate our love story,” You say. “It wasn’t exactly the most conventional of meetings for us. You took me for one of those girls.”

“Yeah, but you asked me what I was doing later, I was just being honest.”

“You’re lucky it worked out for you.”

John makes a kissy face at you, then walks over and reaches out to take your hand and help you up. “Dinner?” He asks.

“Let’s go,” You answer, leading him out of the bedroom and back down the hall, out of the apartment and down to the garage.

John drives, naturally. You’d appointed yourself his passenger princess long ago and he’d never asked you to drive. He orders your wine and meal for you at the restaurant, knowing that you’ll get the same thing you always get. He takes the menu away from you, too, so you can’t even pretend to peruse the offerings. He did so with a knowing look and you replied with an embarrassed smile, rolling your eyes because your boyfriend knows you so well.

When your food comes, John cuts his meat into precise cubes and you steal a piece or two off of his plate, despite the fact that you have your own food to pick at. John allows you to do so with only a few noises of protest, only a few teasing and threatening inflections of his fork at your wandering utensil.

You two make small talk– about John’s games, about your week at work, about the upcoming inspections your landlord is doing for the plumbing in your apartment after John tried (and failed) to adjust the water pressure to your liking. You’ve been in this relationship so long that you don’t need to have the deep conversations all the time, or plan out the future in a lengthy conversation over some red wine.

John is your future, and you’re his.

When you arrive home, John takes you to the bedroom and kneels at your feet, unstrapping your high heels and prying them away from you. He rubs your feet a little bit to soothe the ache of wearing heels all night, a small smile on his face the whole time. You brush his hair out of his face and take in his small details– the moles on his cheek near his mouth, the button of his nose, the scar from the stray puck that marred his skin and left behind the mark that you love to kiss.

“You look pretty down there,” You say, breaking the silence.

John shoots you a look and tries to hide his smile, hide the blush that always spreads across his cheeks when you call him pretty. He kisses your knee and rises to sit next to you on the bed. “Happy anniversary,” He says softly, like it’s a secret between the two of you.

“Happy anniversary, Johnny,” You reply. You press your lips to his, the kisses smooth and slow even as John makes his way down your neck to your shoulder.

Your movements are a language of their own. John’s fingers light fires on your arms as he feels your goosebumps. Your knee presses into his thigh, the connection of your skin on his stronger than a dam. His tongue moves against yours insistently when he makes his way back up to your mouth.

“You gonna let me fuck you like I wanted to the other night?”

You moan into John’s mouth. “Hard?”

“Mm-mm,” John hums, shaking his head. He reaches down, pulls your panties to the side, and starts to slide a finger into you. “Slow,” He breathes out, not even a hair’s distance from your lips. “I’m going to touch you everywhere, angel. You’re gonna feel every bit of me.”

“Even better,” You say. “Want you to fill me up.”

John thrusts his finger inside you and works a second in, scissoring and curling his fingers until you’re a moaning mess beside him.

Your hand is gripping his shoulder so hard that your fingernails might as well tear his shirt. You’re panting, mouth perpetually open. The pressure between your legs is insurmountable, aching and throbbing as John pulls you closer to the edge.

“Johnny, Johnny,” You plead, pushing at his arm. “Fuck me, want to come when you fuck me.”

“Finger yourself,” John commands, pulling away from you to shrug his suit jacket off. He unbuttons his top as you shove three fingers inside your cunt, hungry for more. Really, you’re keeping yourself full while he acts as eye candy. You’re not trying to chase an orgasm, like you normally are when you and Johnny fuck. No, today you’re just here, just waiting to feel his cock enter you and satisfy you in a way that your fingers never could.

He strips hurriedly, standing just mere inches from the bed. He throws the clothes around the room, not caring where they land. You track each movement, having seen his naked chest plenty of times to have it memorized by now. His underwear make their way to the arm of the chair in the corner, and it’s when you realize that he’s naked that your eyes return to his figure.

His cock is just as wonderful as ever– you’ve been in love with John for a long time, but his beautiful cock and the way he fucks you always makes you love him just a little bit more. He knows it, too, from the way he smirks at you– he knows that you love him, but if he was a shit fuck, you would tell him that you have the capacity to love him more. Maybe that’s crazy.

You pull your fingers out of your entrance and use them to spread your lips, showing John the expanse of the part of you that’s just for him.

John smiles, takes his cock in his hand, and pumps himself a few times.

You bite your lip and return his smile, watching the precum bubble and drip from his slit.

“Fuck me, J,” You beg. “Please.”

John joins you again on the bed, pushing you down onto your back and opting to forego your little black dress altogether and slide your panties down your legs instead. “You look so pretty,” John compliments.

“Thank you,” You reply, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Wanna see how your tits bounce in this dress while I fuck you,” John continues, leaning over you on the bed and lining himself up with your core. One of his legs pins your knee to the bed, while the other stays straight and braces against the floor.

His words seem to steal all the thoughts from your mind, leaving nothing but the feeling between the two of you as he pushes the bulbous head of his cock into you.

John moves slowly, like he promised. He fills you, warms you from the inside-out. He punctuates each drag with a sharp push into your core, causing your body to shift up on the bed. He raises a hand and grasps your breast, both keeping you in place and filling his palm with one of his favorite body parts of yours.

You don’t exchange words, minus a reassuring, hushed “I know,” that drips from John’s lips and into your ear when you become close. He fishes your boob out of your dress and dips down to attach his mouth to your nipple, reaching his other hand down to soothe circles onto your clit. The added stimulation sends you into a whirlwind and John can practically feel the pitter-patter of your heart from where he’s sucking at your chest.

“Johnny,” You cry, clutching his shoulder and arching your back beneath him.

“Yeah, honey. I know, my angel,” He mumbles against your skin. He leaves burning kisses along your body up to your lips.

“Please,” You say, high strung and wanting so much that you’re almost shaking with it.

John moans, wrenching himself away from your lips to press a kiss to your cheek, then returning to your lips. His thrusts grow stuttered and desperate, no longer slow. They’re just as passionate, just as fulfilling, and John coaxes the orgasm out of you just as he unravels himself.

He holds you like you’re a precious liquid that is slipping through his fingers.

You almost want to cry from the feeling, the knowledge that you and John share so much love between the two of you and there will be nights like this for the rest of your life.

John leads you over the edge and guides you through it, holding you and murmuring sweet nothings into your ear until your breath returns to normal. He traces your cheek, then draws his fingers down your neck.

“You’re everything,” John says. “I meant it. I’m going to marry you… all in due time.”

Instead of a response, you take his hand in yours and press a kiss to the back of it. You lace your fingers together and bring your interlocked hands to your chest, resting them over your heart. All you can do, really, is smile and cuddle closer to John, feeling his heat fill the bed and making you doze off.

note: just finished watching "you've got mail" for the first time. sigh. what a movie. devastating. sooo invisible string. corporations need to stop winning.

#puck-luck's fics #john marino #john marino smut #john marino x reader #john marino x y/n #john marino x you #jm6 #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl x y/n #andy writes anything🍄

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 1 year

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I’m Hot, Sticky Sweet

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (after series end)

Warnings: Poorly written smut, food and sex, p in v, cunnilingus

Summary: You and Daryl haven’t been able to spend much time together. With only a certain amount of time available, you’re able to make the best of it by killing two birds with one stone.

A/N: I have no idea what I’m doing as a fanfic writer. Please forgive me for this insanity.

*gif is not mine

“What’s goin’ on here?” Daryl could smell the delicious scent of spices the moment he opened the door. He knew you could cook, but there really had never been enough resources or time for anything fancy. He was salivating by the time he reached the dining room, taking in the spread on the four person table.

The archer was always up before the sun and home long after it had set, helping around the Commonwealth in any way he could. Some days, Mercer would have him beyond the walls, pushing back herds. Other days, he’d be part of the labor responsible for reinforcing those walls. He did what he could, rarely turning down a request for his assistance. Runs were still necessary in order to maintain the life to which you all had grown accustomed. Daryl would be gone for hours, sometimes even days.

He was always so tired. He was sore. He missed his family.

Once Pamela had been imprisoned and Ezekiel eventually took over the position as governor, Daryl was given a larger house. The two of you had turned it down, though. There was a quaint little home, still bigger than the apartment, away from the town center. It was your idea of perfect for your little family. Its four bedrooms were small but none of you had very many belongings anyway.

You settled in quickly. Daryl didn’t worry about Judith and RJ. They were safe in your capable hands. While you fit the role of the stay at home mom, you wouldn’t hesitate to pick up your knives and bring them down on anyone that threatened the safety of those kids.

“Hey, you.” You were beaming at him, a bowl of steamed vegetables in your hand, when Daryl shook himself out of his thoughts.

“S’all this? Where the kids?”

“Well,” you began, wiping your hands in the apron you had just removed. “We haven’t had a lot of time for ourselves lately. Carol took Jude, RJ, and Dog for the evening and I grabbed some extra venison from the market.” When he simply stared at you, doubt eased in slowly and then all at once. You knew you could afford the extra meat. Daryl was paid well for all the hours he put in for the community. The leftovers could be used for his lunch tomorrow and dinner for you and the kids. Still, you twisted your hands in the soft fabric of your sundress and avoided his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if—”

“Whoa, slow down. I ain’t upset or nothin’.” He had his hands up placatingly, a ghost of a smile adorning his lips. “Just didn’t know if I fucked up an’ forgot somethin’ impor’ant like our anniversary.”

Your self doubt ebbed away into amused adoration. “You remember our anniversary?”

He was taking off his vest and gloves, glancing over at you with a sarcastic smirk. “Yep, s’that one day that looks just like ev’ry other day.” You laughed and gave his shoulder a playful shove. He didn’t let you push him too far and wound his arm around your side to pull you into him. “If we had a way to keep up with that shit, I’d mark that day up with a lil’ heart an’ blame Jude.” He nuzzled his nose against your jaw.

“Daryl, that’s mean.” You chuckled, letting him press a quick kiss to your mouth. He hummed, continuing with his quick kisses while guiding you backward.

“Pretty sure I told ya from the start that I’m a asshole.” He mumbled against your lips, pulling your bottom one in between his teeth. There was no stopping the small whimper that managed to escape your throat, earning a pleasant growl from deep in his chest. You let your arms wind around his neck and tugged at the wavy hair you found there.

“Mmm, Daryl—food—table.” You managed between his increasing assault on your mouth.

“Mhmm.”

He shifted in front of you but kept you close, the legs of one of the chairs scraping across the floor. Soon, the small of your back met the edge of the table but you were already too far gone to care. Your head was thrown back with his lips attached to the front of your neck when his large hands squeezed the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up.

Your ass had barely met the cool surface when he was reaching underneath your dress and dragging your panties down your legs. You could hear the shifting of the dinnerware behind you but couldn’t entertain why that should be concerning. The damp heat between your legs was demanding your focus, and you let yourself be consumed.

“Shirt.” You panted, crossing your ankles behind his back to pull his groin against yours while he removed the offensive garment, tossing it into the void of ‘I’ll find that later.’ Your mouths crashed together again, your hands working open his belt and fly while he shoved your dress up and out of the way.

Tenderness was not on the table tonight, so to speak. Daryl grabbed your hips and pulled you down, wasting no time in entering you. Your mouths separated, your teeth clamping down on your bottom lip while his jaw went slack, satisfied breaths and quiet moans mingling somewhere in the air between you.

“Fuck.” His fingers flexed against your hips, his hold damn near bruising your soft skin. You couldn’t suppress the drawn out moan you offered him as he pulled his hips back, dragging each and every inch of him against your fluttering walls until only the tip remained. He was just as slow pushing back in, swallowing your little sounds of pleasure.

The next few thrusts were faster. The ones after that, faster still. Soon enough, his pelvis was slamming against you. Your small hands gripped his shoulders but couldn’t seem to remain there. You needed to feel more of his skin. Your hands slid down his back and grabbed the waistband of his pants, pushing them down past his hips. Daryl chuckled against your mouth when you grabbed handfuls of his ass and dug your nails in to leave crescent moons indented in the skin.

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered, bowing your head to suck on the skin where you could feel his pulse hammering away. The archer rewarded you with a hard snap of his hips before reaching behind him to pull your hands away. He pressed you down against the table and quickly pulled out, leaving your cunt empty and clenching. “Daryl.” You whined, but before you could sit up, his face was buried between your thighs, tongue lapping and lavishing your clit until it was swollen and throbbing.

“Cum for me.” You heard him growl, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive nub while a finger prodded at your entrance. Daryl slid his middle finger past your opening and began pumping hard and fast, desperately seeking to pull your orgasm from you. He curled that finger slightly, finding that soft spot inside you that had you near screaming and grasping for anything that you could hold onto. Plates and silverware crashed to the floor. You thought one may have shattered. “Did ya not hear me, woman? I said cum.”

Your chest heaved for the breath you couldn’t seem to catch, all cognitive function absent as the coil in your belly began to pull taunt. “Daryl—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Good girl. Give it to me.” He went back to flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. You were clenching around his finger in waves now. He knew you were seconds from climaxing. Wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves, he gently took it between his teeth and started to suck.

“Fuck!” Your back arched off the table, your body vibrating through the throes of pleasure. It started in your stomach and spiderwebbed out through your limbs. Your hands found his hair and pulled, soliciting a deep grunt against your flesh.

When you began to come down, your cunt was suddenly empty. But not for long.

Daryl entered you again, roughly thrusting into your body at a punishing pace that shook the table beneath you. His right hand creeped around the back of your neck and pulled you up to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss that was all spit and tongues and teeth.

He never slowed down, bringing your second orgasm on quickly while he slipped the spaghetti straps of your dress down your shoulders. You let his attentions fall to your neck while you pulled your arms from the straps and pushed both the dress and your bra down, giving the man access to your breasts. He wasted no time in placing his lips around a pert nipple.

“Fuck, Daryl!” Your fingers found their way into his hair once again, urging him toward your mouth. He allowed himself to be led away from your breast but not without replacing his mouth with his hand. “Just—just like that. I’m so close!”

“Yeah,” he panted against your mouth, “me too.”

Neither of you lasted long after, the room filled with your cries of his name and his drawn out moans. You fell back onto the table, still pulsing around him as he softened inside you. Daryl leaned forward to rest his forehead against your upper stomach while you ran your fingers through his sweat-damp hair.

“That was incredible.” You breathed, staring up at the ceiling with a beaming smile.

“Yeah. I missed ya, sunshine.” He said into the wadded up fabric of your dress. You hummed and gave his hair a gentle tug, encouraging him to look at you. When he did, you caught the gleam in his pretty blue eyes.

“What?” You asked cautiously.

“I ain’t nowhere near done with ya yet.” He went for your nipple but your hands quickly left his hair and caught each side of his face.

“We need to eat before we spill something.” Somehow the food had indeed survived.

“Can wait.” He muttered, shaking your hands off. When he tried a second time, you caught him again. This time he huffed in annoyance.

“It’ll be cold. Well—colder.” You pouted. The archer watched you for a moment, ready to pull out and reset the table when he got the most brilliant idea. You saw the spark in his eyes and drew in your brows, feeling a little concerned. “I know that look. What scheme is rattling around in that head of yours, Daryl Dixon?”

With a Cheshire grin, he rose slightly and stretched an arm behind the top of your head, pulling back with a dollop of mashed potatoes on the tip of his finger. “We can both get what we want.” Without giving you time to consider his meaning, the bowman smeared the side dish across one of your nipples, dragging his tongue over it to clean up the mess. Your eyes sparkled.

“You, sir, are a genius.”

More than an hour and a half later, half empty serving dishes still littered the table, but you and Daryl were on the floor, the area around you a complete disaster. Daryl sat next to you, propped up on the wall with his legs stretched out. His pants were up but not buttoned. The left side of his face was dripping brown gravy, a portion of his hair wet with it. Remnants of mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese were smeared from his neck all the down to disappear past his waistband.

You looked no better. Shavings and juices of venison were stuck to the swell of your breasts and side of your neck, anything between that and the lower part of your dress— pulled up to cover you by now— was hidden by the fabric itself. Your hair was a mess, with a half of a baby carrot dangling from a thin strand. What could be seen of your inner thighs was sticky with apple pie filling.

You were both panting and even Daryl mirrored your small smile and chuckled when you looked at one another. He had been absolutely right. You were sated and full.

But you probably wouldn’t serve the leftovers to the kids after all, though you were almost certain Daryl wouldn’t mind taking some for lunch.

You were just about to suggest getting cleaned up when you heard a key enter and then turn in the front door lock. When you heard Carol call “hello,” you snapped your attention back to Daryl.

“You gave her a key?!” You whisper-yelled.

“Why wouldn’t I!?” He returned at the same volume. You gestured broadly at the two of you, and Daryl relented with a nod. “I see your point.”

“What happened?!”

You both turned to the doorway, finding RJ and Judith staring at you with wide eyes.

“What do you mean what— oh.” Carol hurried into the room and her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. Dog bounded around her leg and immediately began to sniff the floor, licking up any scraps he found dropped or smeared there. Daryl couldn’t even bring himself to correct the canine. “So,” Carol began, crossing her arms, “what did happen, you two?” From the knowing smile plastered on the woman’s face, you knew you needn’t explain to her.

But shit, the kids.

“There, uh—there was a, um, a spider!” You shrugged a shoulder when Daryl gave you a look that blatantly said ‘really, Y/N?’

“A spider.” Carol repeated, licking her lips to wipe away the grin.

“Was huge.” Daryl nodded, carefully avoiding any of the eyes that were on him. “An’ mean.”

“Ew. Did you kill it?” RJ asked with a small cringe.

“Sure did.” The archer lied.

“How big?” Judith queried, crossing her arms like Carol.

“Like—real big.” You supplied, covering your thighs a little more with your dress when you caught Carol looking at the mess there.

“Cool! Can we see?” RJ, who had seemed afraid just moments before was now very interested in this make believe monster arachnid that had slathered both you and Daryl as well as half the dining room in tonight’s dinner before meeting its untimely demise at the bowman’s hand.

“No!” Daryl barked. RJ froze midstep. “S’ uh—s’in the gravy.”

“Gross. I’m not eating that, aunt Y/N.” The young boy curled his lip.

“Of course not, baby.” You soothed, relieved that you two had seemingly gotten away with this.

“Not to mention your bra.” Judith smirked. Your eyes widened. “Your bra is in the gravy too, aunt Y/N.”

Your eyes slid slowly toward where the gravy boat sat, a few feet from Daryl’s leg. The man was already hooking a finger under a strap and lifting the article, staring almost blankly ahead as he passed the dripping thing across his lap and let it dangle for you to grab it.

“Damn huge spider.”

“Bra removing spiders in gravy boats.” Carol nodded, chuckling when Daryl put his red face in his hands and you rubbed the back of your neck. “Right. Well, don’t worry. These guys and that guy,” she pointed to Dog, who was gnawing on a piece of broccoli, “have already eaten. I’ll just go get them settled.”

“Thanks.” You mumbled, looking defeated. Footsteps disappeared up the stairs before you and Daryl looked at one another.

“She ain’t never gonna let this go.” He commented sourly. “Just feed me ta the walkers, sunshine. M’beggin’ ya.”

“If I have to hear it, then you do too.” You chuckled, leaning over against him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“She won’t pick on ya too bad.”

“She saves it all for you cause I’ll cry.”

“Guess I need to start cryin’ then.” You giggled and tilted your head back just in time for him to press a kiss between your eyes. “Was fun, huh?”

“Yeah, you make a nice buffet, Dixon.”

He hummed, drumming his fingers against your upper arm. “I wouldn’t mind s’more pie.”

“How about a plate this time?”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x female reader #Spotify

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blakeswritingimagines · 1 month

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How He Makes You Feel Better

Quinn Hughes: He views his partner as his world. He would do everything and anything for you. No matter his partner, he will never hurt you on purpose, and if he does, he is extremely gentle with you. He is respectful towards you and can get very protective of you. He tends to be playful and somewhat clingy

Jack Hughes: He adores you, you fill him with an indescribable feeling that he can only describe as overwhelming joy. Seeing you brightens up his day, and when you're together, even the darkest clouds disappear. He finds himself constantly finding ways to make you smile, and your laughter is like music to his ears. Every moment you spend together is a precious memory waiting to be created, and he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. You are the missing piece in his life, and he is irrevocably and hopelessly in love with you.

Luke Hughes: He sees you as a ray of sunshine. He'll do anything to make you laugh and feel good. He has a soft spot for you and he can't deny it. It's his first serious relationship, so he does struggle at times to be completely open about his emotions. And he can't help himself feel a bit overwhelmed sometimes by your big feelings and open display of your emotions.

Nico Hischier: He views his partner as an equal but also someone that he has to protect. He will not only make you laugh but also cry at the same time but will also be there for emotional support. He sees you as someone he's not just in love with but also his best friend, because that's what real love is, being best friends with the person you adore.

Timo Meier: Timo views his partner as his precious treasure. He cherishes your kindness, strength, and compassion. He admires your intelligence and is always in awe of your ability to handle every situation with poise. He admires your loyalty, and your ability to take care of others. He loves the way you laugh, and the way you get excited about small things. He could watch you doing a mundane task such as reading or cleaning and feel like it's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen. Timo loves his partner with his whole heart.

Dawson Mercer: Dawson views his partner as a source of comfort, a safe haven where he can be himself without fear of judgment. He cherishes your company above all else, always looking for ways to make you laugh or smile.

John Marino: He would view his partner as a treasure he never thought he could find, and as someone who was sent to him from heaven itself. He would do anything for you, and his whole world would spin for you. He would love you till the very end, and you would be his sun, his moon, his stars, his everything.

Kirby Dach: Kirby views his partner as the most important person in his life. He is fiercely protective and caring, always making sure to put your needs before his own. He admires your intelligence, kindness, and determination and often finds himself in awe of your strength and resilience. Kirby is incredibly devoted and committed to making you happy and providing a stable and loving relationship. He is constantly looking for ways to show you how much you mean to him and cherishes the time you spend together.

Juraj Slafkovsky: As a person who he cares about immensely and would protect from any harm, he thinks highly of his partner and your judgment and is loyal and dedicated to you. And he tends to get quite shy around you. He thinks you are attractive and likes your company, he cares for you and gets protective if you are in danger.

Arber Xhekaj: Arber can come off as aloof, distant, cold, unapproachable, cynical, and jaded at times. With his partner, he is the polar opposite of who and how he presents himself. He’s tender, sweet, and incredibly protective. He will love you endlessly and unconditionally. He would give you the world if he could. He’s a firm believer of the love language; ‘actions speak louder than words’ and will do anything and everything he needs to do to make you happy, safe, and comfortable.

Cole Caufield: He views his partner as the most important person in his life. He is completely devoted to you and takes great pride in being protective, supportive, and caring. He loves spending quality time together, whether it's going on adventures or simply cuddling up for a movie night. He's willing to put in extra effort for you and always puts your needs first.

Trevor Zegras: He views his partner as his equal and loves you immensely, in his eyes you can do no wrong, and he’d do anything for you. he’s constantly giving you flowers or little gifts and surprises, and he finds you absolutely gorgeous. he can’t spend too long apart from you as he always aches to be around you.

Jamie Drysdale: Jamie sees you as his equal, someone with whom he can share life's adventures and moments. He values your opinions and ideas, looking forward to hearing your perspective on things. To him, you are his rock, the person he can rely on in good times and bad. Jamie is also attracted by your appearance and personality, finding you both beautiful inside and out. He tries to express affection through small gestures, giving you gifts, or showing affection in public. Jamie enjoys having you by his side and can't imagine a life without you.

Matt Rempe: He sees you as his source of calm, comfort, and contentment. He sees his partner as his safe space, a person he can trust with his thoughts, dreams, fears, and insecurities. He values your opinions and advice and often seeks to include you in his decision-making process. He often finds himself looking forward to your interactions, as he feels a sense of peace and happiness when you are together. He also adores your little quirks and cute mannerisms.

#quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #nico hischier x reader #timo meier x reader #dawson mercer x reader #john marino x reader #kirby dach x reader #juraj slafkovsky x reader #arber xhekaj x reader #cole caufield x reader #trevor zegras x reader #jamie drysdale x reader #matt rempe x reader #nhl x reader

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sci-fi-disney-prince · 7 months

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Garrett Hedlund Mini March Fic Madness

In honor of March Madness, I created this master list of Garrett Hedlund character fanfics and may update it even after March. This may not be mobile/tablet-friendly.

Note: This may not have all of the stories posted on Tumblr and/or elsewhere since I am only one person and could only find as much as I can and unfortunately get distracted by Garrett along the way.

Also, these do not belong to me. These stories belong to these lovely fanfic writers credited below and to the people behind the original source material. Do keep in mind that many of these fanfics are targeted for 18 years of age and older, so reader discretion is advised.

Tagged: @the-blind-assassin-12 (the person behind March Fic Madness 2024)

Key: ❤️‍🔥 = Smut(ty)/Explicit 🍬 = Fluff ❤️‍🩹 = Angst

Updated as of May 5, 2024

Sci-fi-Disney-prince’s G.H. Corner coming soon

Special Events

@/triplefrontier-anniversary (A fanfic and art event to celebrate Triple Frontier's 5th anniversary which is run by @romanarose and @for-a-longlongtime that goes from March 1st-March 14th. Take out the slash to go to their page)

Masterlists

Mitch Keller x F!OC Waitress Oneshot Masterlist by @marmie-noir [Content warning: violence, sex, and 18+ content] ❤️‍🔥

TriFRambles’ Masterlist by @triframbles

Delta Landscaping Mainlist by @rhoorl ❤️‍🔥

Benny Miller Masterlist by @dameronscopilot [some 🍬, some ❤️‍🔥]

Garrett Hedlund Masterlist by @dameronscopilot 🍬❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹

Benjamin "Benny" Miller Masterlist by @musings-of-a-rose [Some Fluff, Some Angst, Some Smut, some all of the above]

FishBen Rec List by @thirstworldproblemss [Some fluff, some angst, some smut, some all of the above]

phoenixhalliwell Masterlist by @phoenixhalliwell [includes Triple Frontier guys x Gender Neutral!reader]

Individual Stories

Triple Frontier

"Every Kiss Begins With A Mistletoe" by @kittyofalltrades [Santi and Benny x Reader] ❤️‍🔥

"Not So Silent Night" by @kittyofalltrades [Benny x Reader]❤️‍🔥

"Office Party Love" by @kittyofalltrades [Benny x Reader] 🍬

Sleepy Benny by @pilothusband [Benny x Reader] 🍬

"I’m gonna keep you in love with me for a while" by @pilothusband [Benny x Reader] ❤️‍🔥

"An Unexpected Discovery" by @pilothusband [Benny x Reader]❤️‍🔥

"Benny's Favorite Librarian" by @kittyofalltrades [Benny x Reader]❤️‍🔥

"Before I Go" by @cowboystokes (deactivated) [Benny x Black!Reader (Co-Parents)]

"Drunk Poetry" by @violentdelightsandviolentends [Benny x female reader - Content warning: cursing and alcohol mention] 🍬

"I see my shot" by @writefightandflightclub [Benny x female reader - Content warnings: alcohol, mildly steamy making-out, swearing, “unrequited” feelings and implied possible public sex acts (fade to black).] ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

"I've loved you three summers now, honey, I want them all." by @bullet-prooflove [Benny x Reader]

"Disinhibition" by @busycryin [Benny x Reader - Content warning: Injury, bad words, mentions of sex] 🍬

"Slow Motion" by @miss-beep-beep [Benny x Viet!OFC - Content Warning - some cursing and kisses] 🍬❤️‍🩹

Four Brothers

"Hopper saves a boy’s pieces, Joyce puts him back together" by @imeanwhynotbruv (Jack Mercer Stranger Things AU/crossover - TW: abuse)

"Number" by @jackmercerenthuiast (Jack Mercer x Reader - Content warning: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, suggestive language, and gang violence)

Tron: Legacy

"Masks" by @ivorydragoness44 [Sam Flynn x Reader] ❤️‍🩹

"iii. morning kisses. waking up next to your significant other and pulling them up and capturing their lips to yours." by @solar-siren [Sam Flynn x Tron] 🍬

Tulsa King

More from other movies/shows/projects in the new masterlist

#benny miller #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #jack mercer #four brothers #garrett hedlund #tron: legacy #sam flynn #tulsa king #mitch keller #four brothers fanfic #Tulsa king fanfic #marchficmadness24

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lam-ila · 2 months

Text

Baseball and Love || Dawson Mercer

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

Word Count: 1,905

Warnings: one scene occurring during quarantine (please let me know if you find any 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 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.

——————————

NHL Taglist: @readyfreddy @jostystyles @jimothystu @typical-simplelove @2manytabsopen @11livpangburn @matthewkniesys @lifeofpriya @fallinallincurls @jimmystrudel

join my taglist here

#maleeha writes #the summer fic exchange 2k24 #dawson mercer #dawson mercer x reader #dawson mercer imagine #dawson mercer fanfic #dawson mercer fanfiction #dawson mercer fic #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine

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the-dixon-effect · 9 months

Text

you are the river of light, that i cling to in the empty night

a/n: im back whores

You thumbed the copper pendant daintily hanging from your neck, a little bronze sun - a testament to how much Daryl loved you before you even knew. You were Daryl's sun, the light that sustained all life, all good. Though he wouldn't say it, this was his way of telling you. Years later, your shared apartment in the commonwealth, however dreary, was the home that you had been longing for ever since the fall. Decorated with antique lamps and watercolours and soft music pouring out of the vintage record player in the corner of the room, time seemed to slow and warp when you spent your evenings with the man you loved so. Perched on the kitchen counter, you eagerly waited for him to return home.

Daryl's new job as a commonwealth soldier felt taxing to him - though he never complained in fear of boring or scaring you. Home was his sacred place; cooking, laughing, drinking, loving, a place where he could escape the past and present. The future was you, and however tempestuous and unstable life proved to be these days, you were his constant. In fear of seeming poetic, he kept his thoughts about you to himself, however badly he wanted to tell the world. Your touch was medicine, your love was rejuvenating.

As he entered, you whistled at his arrival and jumped to greet your man.

"Hey baby," he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in closer with a fistful of your hair. "Missed ya'," he moved a hand up to your cheek, adjusting your head so he could gaze into your sweet, loving eyes for a moment before moving in to kiss you with the passion of a starved man.

"And I waited for ya'," you flirted once pulling away. "Tell me 'bout your day, cause mine was boring as hell," you withdrew the embrace yet he pursued you towards the living room still holding your hand.

"Handled some rotters down the south fence, ya' know they can climb now?" you shivered, imagining Daryl surrounded by hungry walkers, all day, every day thanks to Pamela Milton and Michael Mercer, the ones that decided he needed to be here. Of course it was admriable, putting his life on the line every day, but for a government that doesn't even know his name? If you could convince him to stay in bed each morning, away from the danger, you could be ever satisfied knowing he would only exist in your arms. "Wha's wrong?" you must have frowned without answering, because he now pulled you over his thighs and held you firmly, not wanting to let you go.

You only hummed, afraid to meet his eyes covered by those chocolate bangs. "I want you... here. If somethin' happened to you out there-"

"Baby, ya' know it won't. 'M sorry," he spoke softly into your neck, gently rubbing your thighs with tenderness much unlike the stoic soldier known to you and your friends. "I love ya', I ain't givin' that up,"

"Don't try to be heroic. Don't be the person that's gotta save the day. If somethin' goes wrong, just run. Please.. promise for me," you held eye contact, stroking your fingers through his tangled tresses.

"Promise."

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babydollmarauders · 11 months

Text

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 15)

au masterlist

notes: pretty short but i just wanted to get this out so that i can move on and be ready for the next game tomorrow!

y/ndevils00

liked by dawson1417, nicohischier, and 286,402 others

y/ndevils00 a solemn hello to you all! welcome back to my postgame recap!

as some of you may have noticed, i took a bit of a break and did not cover the game against the Blues, hawks, or avalanche! as you’re all probably well aware, my beautiful, clumsy ass boyfriend lost an edge during the first of the Blues game which resulted in a shoulder injury. after some serious persuasion from both me and coach woof, who i’m pretty sure just wanted me off the trip in general… how rude, the Devils management graciously allowed me to return back to Jersey with my dumbass (affectionate) to be his in-home nurse!

i did keep up with my real job through watching the games on tv— did you guys know that Nico and Jack scream at the tv a lot during games? no? well now you do! — but i took a minor break from your regularly scheduled recaps in order to focus on my ailing boyfie.

so for the next few weeks, i will be doing any road game recaps from the comfort of my own (Jack and Luke’s) home! with one exception for a game of which i will not be disclosing at this point in time!

tonight your not so mighty Devils lost 2-4 to the D.C. dwellers— so that wasn’t fun to witness!

i spent most of my time this game in the press box with my aforementioned dumbass, my slut, and my new uncle Miller that we acquired during this past summer solstice. (see: slide 4)

this game, we got a goal from Meier Meier pants on fire, and of course, my very own bestie number 1, DAWSON MERCER!!! which makes his 2nd of the season after he got his very first of the season in my missed recap game against the hawks!

i’m so so SO proud of you tonight puppy!! you did so well!! you’re gonna do great things, sweetie!!

dear idiot number 2, you played well tonight and i guess i’m proud of you…. ya know, despite the penalty and the massive L we took… continue shining, supernova!

tagged john.marino97, dougieham, jackhughes, nicohischier, colinmiller1029, lhughes_06, tmeier96

Load more comments

john.marino97 2 photos… everyone else got 1 penalty photo and you choose TWO of me?

y/ndevils00 excuse me, do i need to take back my last paragraph? because i will if you’re gonna be an ungrateful rat

john.marino97 no, i’m sorry, thank you and i love you

y/ndevils00 that’s what i thought

user28 WE NEED JACK AND NICO BACK 😭

jackhughes can i request another nurse? maybe one that doesn’t call me a dumbass?

y/ndevils00 no <3

y/ndevils00 i call you MY dumbass, and you know it’s all love, my dumbass!

jackhughes so i’m stuck with you, huh?

y/ndevils00 forever and ever and ever and ever 🥰

jackhughes oh fun!

y/ndevils00 i know!

john.marino97 @/y/ndevils00 he was being sarcastic

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 oh, thank you personal sarcasm detector

y/ndevils00 YOU LOVE ME, STOP ACTING TOUGH ON THE INTERNET

colinmiller1029 i know i’m still new to this but, uncle?

dawson1417 any guy over 30 is her uncle, it’s the rules. you can’t question it and you can’t deny it, you just roll with it!

colinmiller1029 @/dawson1417 oh, okay. got it.

colinmiller1029 proud to be an uncle!! you’re pretty fun press box company, niece!

y/ndevils00 oh i love you

y/ndevils00 @/ehaula STEP UP YOUR UNCLE GAME OR HE’S GONNA BE FAVORITE

ehaula keep threatening it, i’m secure in my position and i know you love me

y/ndevils00 @/ehaula i hate you

ehaula sure. so i’ll see you tomorrow for family dinner, right?

y/ndevils00 @/ehaula yeah 🫤 can we watch Monsters Inc after dinner?

ehaula if you’re good and you eat all your food!

y/ndevils00 @/ehaula YES! 💃

jackhughes my girlfriend is a child

user10 how fast did you have to run from the press box to get these pictures?

y/ndevils00 oh so fast

dawson1417 THANK YOU BESTIE NUMBER 3!!! AND THANK YOU FOR MY HEAD PATS

y/ndevils00 you earned those head pats! i hope you enjoyed them!!

dawson1417 i did!!!

john.marino97 @/jackhughes your girlfriend is a child and my best friend is an actual golden retriever

jackhughes @/john.marino97 this is the life we chose

nicohischier stop eating my press box popcorn

y/ndevils00 but i was hungry :(

nicohischier your boyfriend was there? make him get you some!

y/ndevils00 he did! i ate it all!

nicohischier so you decide to eat mine?

y/ndevils00 yeah, now you get it!

nicohischier you are so…

y/ndevils00 beautiful? fun? hilarious?

nicohischier annoying

y/ndevils00 oh :(

nicohischier but i love you?

y/ndevils00 I LOVE YOU TOO WHORE!

tmeier96 no goal picture but a penalty picture?

y/ndevils00 i only have so many spaces, Timothy

tmeier96 ah yes, and the penalty was more important

y/ndevils00 well, yeah. you guys lost, it’s not like that goal mattered much

tmeier96 it goes towards my stats?

y/ndevils00 okay? and your penalty goes towards your PIMs

lhughes_06 you’re not winning this one dude, just save yourself the trouble and give up now

y/ndevils00 @/lhughes_06 see, Lukey gets it!

user63 wait, why won’t she tell us what road game she’s going to?

user95 WHAT ROAD GAME?! PLEASE, I WANNA MEET YOU

#media management au!#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

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amberlynnmurdock · 8 months

Text

Aim For My Heart (Part 1)

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x Reader

Summary: One random morning, she buys him a coffee when the barista gets his order wrong–and ever since, Dex has been entranced.

Genres: light angst in the beginning, fluff, making out

A/N: This first part is all fluff! So I hope you guys like it! This is my first time writing Dex so I hope I got his character right :)

TAGS: @danzer8705 @pcrushinnerd (let me know if you want to be tagged or if I missed you)

credit to the owner of this gif!!!

Drip drip.

Benjamin Poindexter’s brown eyes shoot open at the annoying sound of his sink’s leaky faucet.

Drip drip.

He attempts to ignore the sound. He shuts his eyes and readjusts himself in bed. He takes a deep breath.

Drip drip.

He’s had enough. He can’t stand it.

Kicking the sheets off himself, Dex huffs out of bed and stomps to the kitchen to fix the faucet. He rips a paper towel off a roll seamlessly and wipes the nozzle. He waits a moment to see if it works. Hand on his waist, he stares at the nozzle of the faucet, almost daring it to drip again. After 45 seconds, he decides it worked.

He goes back into his room and crawls into bed. In an instant, he falls back asleep.

***

Another dreadful day.

He can’t remember when his days started to feel like chores he had to get done. Was it when he was put in an orphanage? Was it when his dreams of becoming a professional pitcher were taken away? Was it when his therapist, Dr. Mercer, the only person who ever understood him, passed away?

When was it?

It seemed he was accurate with everything else in his life except when it came to pinpointing an exact moment when it started to fall apart. And it’s been falling apart slowly every day.

Still—he needs to have coffee to somewhat function. He throws the empty coffee bag out in the trash and turns his hands into fists as he rests them on his clean marble countertop. Why do things like this get under his skin? Something as simple as running out of ground coffee? He looks up and is met with his reflection in the microwave. Sometimes, he can barely recognize himself.

After a few moments, he decides he’ll have to stop at the corner coffee shop, which he hates to do. He hates being around people. He hates pretending to be normal. He hates that he has to put on an act. He hates the fake smile he gives when he orders his coffee; he hates waiting in line. The anticipation of waiting kills him inside. He hates seeing the barista accidentally spill a little of his coffee on the counter. It takes everything in him to not throw the cup away out of spite. It takes everything in him to not react violently over something so small.

“You will build your life on pillars of order,” Dr. Mercer had once told him. Pillars of order. Pillars of order. Pillars of order.

He’s trying to be better every day. He tries to follow his code, but it’s so hard without someone to guide him, like a North Star. Even though he doesn’t have that anymore, he still tries to be better. He still tries to act normal. Often though, he wonders if he’ll ever be able to live his life on his own without a guiding light.

No, he thinks to himself. Because people get hurt. Every time. Including him. Most of all, including him.

As he takes a sip of his hazelnut coffee, he immediately frowns at the taste. It’s not hazelnut at all—it’s mocha. He hates mocha. And he hates the fact even more that he has to go back inside that dreadful place and order a new coffee—one they will probably charge him again for.

And of course, the line of people. He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. Was it the people he didn’t like, or the thought of interacting with them?

After five whole minutes of waiting in line—Nadeem would be on his ass for being late—Dex finally approaches the same barista at the counter who took his order before. As calmly as he can, he forces a smile.

“Hi. I ordered a hazelnut coffee, but I got a mocha instead. Could I please get a new cup?” Dex asks as he tries to ask the question like he hasn’t rehearsed it in his head a thousand times. He slides the cup across the counter.

The barista, a young man with red hair and freckles, nods and looks at the screen in front of him. He frowns. Dex’s heart plummets in his stomach.

“I’m so sorry. We just sold our last hazelnut of the day. We can do—“

“He can have mine,” a third voice interjects. The person it comes from is feminine—light, and friendly. Qualities Dex isn’t used to being around. Qualities Dex pretends to have. When he follows the sound of the voice, he meets a young woman standing a few feet beside him.

She's younger than him, but not by much. She has the most beautiful smile and kindest eyes he’s ever seen. The smoothest, most perfect face. Yes, she’s perfect, he thinks. Perfect to him. He’s speechless as she holds out her cup of hazelnut coffee for him to take.

“I didn’t drink from it yet if that makes you feel better,” she said sheepishly as she caught him staring at her.

“Then what will you have?” Dex asks her.

“I told myself I’d do one kind act today and not expect anything in return. I’m okay. You can have my coffee,” she smiles again, and Dex’s chest feels as warm as the cup in his hand as she hands it to him. Their fingers brush for the smallest of seconds and it’s entrancing to Dex. He smiles at her—not forced at all. She’s already on her way out as she wishes him a good day. He watches as her shrinking figure exits the coffee shop. He doesn’t want this to be the last time he ever sees her. She's the first person to show him an ounce of kindness in a long time. Her hair swayed back and forth as she walked out the door and it flew behind her as the wind came in. She's the most beautiful person he’s seen in a long time.

And she was so nice to him. That feeling was addictive.

“Sir?” The young barista called. “I need to take the next guest’s order.”

Dex ignores him, ignores all the people in the coffee shop he pushes past. His gaze is stuck on her path. He follows where she left, her coffee in his hand. He exits the coffee shop. How could she already be gone from his reach?

He sees her down the block as she makes a right turn.

Dex isn’t far behind.

***

The next time he sees her, he owes her a coffee.

He made sure to get to the coffee shop earlier than normal the next day. He ordered two medium hazelnut coffees from the same barista who had taken his order the previous day. Dex feels lighter in his step—a rare surge of confidence in his entire body. He even decided to wear his FBI bomber jacket. He normally liked to hide what his profession was but thought that maybe it would impress her… and hopefully not scare her. He brushed his dirty blonde hair neatly and even sprayed on cologne.

He waited at a table near the front and kept an eye on the clock. He had enough time to bring her coffee and make it to work before nine. He watched the door like a hawk, watching carefully as each person entered the shop.

And then finally, she came in.

She wore a long trench coat and tall boots. Her hair was freshly windblown and she looked slightly flustered, like she was in a rush. Good thing she wouldn’t have to wait in the already growing line to order coffee.

Dex sees as she audibly sighs at the sight of the line.

“I owe you a coffee,” Dex calls out confidently as he rises from his seat. She looks over at him, frazzled at first, until recognition settles in her features and she seems to—dare he think—calm down. He’s made her calm down.

“You don’t,” she says carefully, eyes glancing at the FBI logo on his jacket, “but something tells me if I don’t accept this coffee, you’ll put me on the Most Wanted list.”

Dex laughs—a real laugh—and hands her the cup of coffee. Their fingers brush again. He’s entranced by her touch, again.

“I could never,” Dex says. “I didn’t get to say thank you for yesterday. So thank you. You have no idea how messed up my day could’ve been without my morning cup.”

“Trust me, I do,” she smiled. “And you’re welcome. And thank you—for my cup today,” she blushed as she fumbled over her words. Dex felt that familiar warm feeling spread through his chest the longer he looked at her.

“I’m Ben Poindexter… or Dex,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand. She accepts it with ease and shakes his hand. She introduces herself and smiles. Dex repeats her name in his mind to memorization.

“On your way to work?” He asks.

“Yeah,” she answers, “late, honestly. But now that I got my coffee early, I can spare a few minutes. Where’s the uh—FBI office?”

“Just a few blocks down. Mind if I walk with you?”

“Not at all,” she smiles.

Dex holds the door for her and lets her walk out first. He scans the area outside—normally he doesn’t check for threats (like he should) but now he has a reason to make sure the surrounding area is safe.

They both begin to walk down the block. He matches her steps.

“What do you do?” Dex asks.

“I work at a therapist’s office. Client relations—not as daunting as being an FBI agent—is that what you are?”

“Special Agent,” Dex gently corrects. Dex perks when she mentions she works at a therapist’s office. “It’s not as fancy as it sounds, though.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen some shit,” she replies, shivering a little.“I can’t imagine.”

“Yeah, it can get tough,” he sighs, “but you get used to it after a while. Do you like working at the therapist’s office ?”

“I do. You learn a lot about people. I’m not a doctor, but I help where I can.”

“You must have a lot of patience,” Dex muses. He enjoys the cool breeze hitting his face. She looks like she's fighting against it. If the cold weather were a physical being, he’d choke the living life out of it for making her uncomfortable.

“I try to,” she smiles again, crossing her arms across her chest to keep warm. Dex feels a strong urge to wrap his arm around her, but he doesn’t.

Dex already knows where her work building is—he followed her yesterday up until a certain point. He’s passed his office already. He doesn’t care. As long as he knows she makes it to work safely—he doesn’t care.

The rest of the walk, they make small talk. Dex doesn’t mind it at all. In fact, the entire time walking, he’s thinking of ways to ask her out on a date. Do I run into her at the coffee shop again? Do I ask her right now?

Finally, she stops in front of her building. She takes a sip of her hazelnut coffee that Dex bought for her and smiles at him. Dex catches her smile and looks away, almost shy.

“Thank you again for returning the favor, even though you didn’t have to,” she held up her cup in a cheersed way. Dex shrugs, and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly. “Was it a good cup?”

“Yes,” she nods. “Hit the spot.”

If it wasn’t good, Dex thinks he might’ve taken it out of her hands and thrown it against the building. Nothing should ever disappoint her, or not live up to her standards. He’s relieved she enjoyed it.

“Could I—ask you out for dinner, sometime?” Dex stutters slightly, as he feels his heart pound against his chest. From the way she smiles at his question, it puts him at ease.

“You could… but are you going to?” She teases, squinting her eyes a little at the handsome blonde FBI agent before her. Dex laughs and looks down sheepishly, before meeting her eyes again.

“Would you like to have dinner with me this Friday night?” Dex officially asks her, smoothing any nervousness in his voice. Confidence.

“Yes,” she nods. “I would love to.” Dex can’t help the blush that creeps on his cheeks. She’s holding her coffee as she searches through her bag for her phone. She almost drops the cup before Dex—with lightning reflexes—catches it before gravity can win.

“Oh my goodness,” she gasps. “I would’ve been so sad if I dropped it! Thank you—again," she breathes. Dex smiles and holds the cup for her as she looks for her phone.

“It’s no problem,” he says.

She asks for his phone number and sends him a text so he’ll have her number saved. Dex is impressed by the way she takes the initiative to his contact information. She must really be interested—though definitely not as interested as he is. He feels his phone buzz in his jacket, confirming he received her text.

“Well, have a good day, Dex,” she says in a sing-song way, a way Dex will never forget. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

***

She wasn’t one to go to someone’s house after a first date, but Dex might be testing that theory for her.

She’s watching him carefully over the leather-bound menu. Stealing glances and looks every so often as she pretends to look over the list of red wines. Squinting her eyes, studying his face. He’s completely focused on the menu—he almost looks confused as he reads it. It’s a confusing menu because the place Dex chose has four Michelin Stars. She doesn’t mind though. It buys her time to keep looking at him.

His skin looks soft…but it’s the way his jaw cuts that brings a sort of harshness to his look. No less handsome, however. She’s not sure if it’s because she knows he’s an FBI agent, but his presence is commanding, whether he realizes it or not. Commanding and sweet at the same time. Even the way his hands look strong and have surely held a gun against someone (because isn’t that what FBI agents do?) are now holding the menu so softly… it’s mesmerizing to see such hands that are capable of doing rugged things hold a leather-bound menu so gently. It only makes her wonder what else he could handle with gentleness—or roughness. Whatever she wants.

“What are you thinking of getting?” Dex asks her, his silky voice bringing her out of her train of thought. She inhales sharply and quickly scans the menu again.

“I think a glass of cabernet,” she replies, “and the burrata to start?”

“I was thinking the same,” he grins, warm brown eyes looking into hers. She glances away quickly—the way she feels when he looks at her is unsettling by how much she likes it. “You look really beautiful, by the way.”

And of course… he had to make it worse. There was no use in fighting the blush on her cheeks. She smiled.

“Thank you.”

The waiter took their orders, and Dex watched her carefully as she spoke. She was pleasant. She smiles at the waiter—but not the same kind of smile she gives to him. Dex leans back in the velvet chair and sighs in content. He never thought he would get this far with her.

When it was finally the two of them, Dex cleared his throat.

“So, you do client relations at a therapist’s office? What does that exactly mean?”

“I greet them, I bring them into the room before the doctor gets there. I ask them questions and fill out their intake form. I’m basically a glorified receptionist except sometimes I get to ‘play’ therapist,” she explains rather sheepishly. Dex thinks anyone would be lucky enough to be greeted by her. If he were a patient, he’d ask to never see the doctor.

“Do you want to become one?” He asks with curiosity.

“I think one day,” she answers. “I like talking to people. Never mind doing it to help—sometimes just a person to talk to is all someone needs.”

Ain’t that the truth, Dex thinks to himself. “I agree. I used to see a therapist myself.”

“Really? There’s no shame in it at all.”

“I know… well. We’ll save that conversation for another time.”

“Have you always been in the FBI? I’m not even sure I know what the requirements or credentials are,” she asks.

Dex laughs, “It’s a lot of background checks and training before you start. And no, I haven’t always been in the FBI. I was in the army before.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Oh, wow. Thank you for your service. Now I definitely think you’ve seen some shit. And I can see why you’d go to therapy. Why did you stop? You said you used to see one.”

Dex sighs uncomfortably. She picks up on it immediately.

“Never mind. You said another time. Have you always wanted to be in the FBI?”

Dex smiles a little, appreciative of the way she stopped the conversation about his therapist.

“I used to want to be a professional baseball pitcher,” he admits.

“I love that. Do you still play?”

“Not really,” he says softly. “Other interests came to mind. Life.”

“I know what you mean. Life.”

A comfortable silence falls between them—they catch each other gazing into the other’s eyes and laughing at the same time. Dex can’t remember the last time he felt so enamored with someone, so comfortable and so attracted. He’s grateful for running out of coffee that morning. He’s grateful the barista got his order wrong. Most of all, he’s grateful for the young woman who sits across from him at this restaurant. And he’s grateful for the way she’s smiling at him.

***

It didn’t take much convincing for her to agree to go to his place after dinner. While she promised herself she wouldn’t let it get too far, she was curious to see where the night would go. Dex held her hand the entire walk back to his apartment. She cuddled against his arm, an attempt to feel more warm. Dex pulled her in closer.

He lived in a humble building just outside of Hell’s Kitchen. His apartment was even more humble: small, but very nice. White walls. White marble countertop without a spec on it. Everything was in its place from the spices to the napkins. Everything was labeled. His couch was placed perfectly in the middle of the room. Picture frames were all aligned on the walls. He dimmed the lights a little.

From where she stood, she could see his bedroom door slightly ajar. She caught a glimpse of his bed with white sheets—his bed was perfectly made. From how organized and clean he seemed to be, she thought he would freak out to see her mismatched decorations and colorful bedsheets.

“This is such a nice place,” she said aloud.

“Thank you. I don’t ever have guests, so I’m sorry if it’s a little boring.”

“Not at all,” she moved to sit in the corner of his gray couch. She placed her bag on the floor, and Dex picked it up to move on the coffee table.

“It’s better to keep it clean off the floor,” Dex murmured as he sat down next to her with two glasses of red wine. He gave her a soft smile as he handed her a glass, which she gladly accepted. They clinked glasses and took a sip, all while holding each other’s gaze.

“Can I tell you something?” Dex asks suddenly.

“Of course.”

“I haven’t done this in a while,” Dex gestures to the two of them. “It takes a lot in me to do this. I—I really wanted to ask you out. And I’m happy you’re here. I just—“ he feels himself breathing fast. It’s an awful habit he has, getting overwhelmed by every little thought in his head. Bring a beautiful girl into the mix—it was a terrible concoction for his mind to handle. His mind won’t allow him to enjoy this pleasure because it’s already thinking of ways it could go wrong. Like she’ll never want to see him again.

“Hey,” she whispered, placing a hand on his knee to calm him down. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out in embarrassment, covering half his face with his hand.

“Don’t need to be sorry,” she said softly.

“I just don’t want this to be the last I see of you,” he admits. “I had such a good time at dinner and here you are now—“

“Dex,” she began, “I had an amazing time at dinner with you. Truthfully, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have agreed to come to your place. I’m happy I’m here. If it’s all the same to you, I definitely don’t want this to be the last I see you.”

“Absolutely,” Dex agrees immediately, turning to face her more. “I’m so happy you’re here too. I’m happy you gave me your coffee that morning and it’s led to this.”

She smiles. “Me too.”

Her hand is still on his knee. Dex is reminded of it when he feels that area of his leg getting warmer from her touch. He glances down at her hand on him and memorizes the image. He doesn’t want to imagine too much, imagine her hand slowly trailing up his thigh…

To stop his thoughts, he places his hand on top of hers and trails his fingers up the length of her arm, until he reaches her neck and brushes his fingers through her hair. He brings her closer to him, some force guiding him with confidence. Her eyes are half closed as he slowly brings her in for a kiss. A kiss.

He first brushes his lips against hers, almost as a way to ask if this was okay—if the way he was guiding her to him was okay. She doesn’t protest. Dex kisses her softly at first, memorizing the way her lips feel on his. And then he kisses her with a newfound force. She opens her mouth for him to enter his tongue and Dex breathes her in. He places his arms around her waist and lifts her up and into his lap so she’s straddling him on his couch. She has her hands on either side of his face as she kisses him just as passionately, holding him in place. He runs his hands up and down her back, pulling and pushing her to and fro himself.

He pulls back, breathless, and looks up at her.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, running his hands in disbelief through her hair. “Everything about you is perfect.”

She kisses him again and again. Dex’s heart is pounding like it never has in his chest, so much it hurts, so much he thinks his life depends on kissing her. After a while, he pulls back again.

“Let me take you home,” Dex whispers in her ear. “I don’t want to get too far, and we’re treading that line.”

She can’t help but laugh, even though she agrees. “Okay. Walk me home.”

Dex holds her hand the entire walk home. When she says they’ve arrived at her apartment building, she kisses Dex one last time and makes him promise he’ll text her as soon as he gets home.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Dex smirks, enamored by the look in her eyes.

“I do,” she argues, “I do now.”

“Goodnight,” Dex whispers.

He watches as she walks into her building and enters the elevator. Dex moves across the street and waits to see which apartment light turns on. When he sees one turn on, he immediately falls into a dark alley and pulls out a mini telescope.

He found her. And he watches her. Through a small slip of her curtain. He watches as she moves around her kitchen and living room. She changes into a silk robe in her bedroom.

He stays there for another two hours until she’s turned off the lights and headed to bed.

“Goodnight,” Dex whispers to her from afar.

#wilson bethel #benjamin poindexter #ben poindexter #agent poindexter #dex #daredevil #daredevil born again #poindexter x reader #poindexter #ben poindexter x reader #i have no idea how to tag this lol #aim for my heart #bullseye #bullseye x reader

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dmercer91 · 11 months

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ebug's sister, dm91

ok, first post where blake is blake!! also, excuse the absolute dumpster fire that is my life, and is the reason that this post is one post and not like 47

last season! (2022-23) part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven / part twelve

(2023-24)! part one /

blakefriarr_

liked by dawson1417, adamfantilli and 6,947 others

blakefriarr_: so many things have happened since i last popped up on all your timelines and made them immeasurably better!

this is episode one of season two of i-am-both-the sister-of-the-devils-home-emergency-backup-goaltender-and-also-happen-to-be dating-dawson-mercer-forward-for-the-devils series!

these pictures are in no particular order, because, i am moving into a new place with afore mentioned dawson mercer and have spent the last several weeks making it look like it's not the most depressing back alley murderous apartment any of you have ever laid your eyes on

and apparently, i have a ball ton of stuff!

regardless, here's what i've caught up on;

the entire nhl draft! though i have not acquired any new adoptees, it did come to my attention that the anaheim ducks as an organization did personally victimize me during the 2023 entry draft (they also took a BALLSY amount of time to re-sign bitch one and bitch two. what the literal fuck, dudes). also- if you are seeing this and you need help to flee, blink twice (not you adam) (you know who you are)

2, the entire preseason was also missed while i was one, curing myself from jetlag and the absolute dread of going back to uni and two, moving my egregious amount of shit with a spiteful level of independence. the devils won every preseason game! dawson scored that clusterfuck of a goal on slide two and we also got to see goalie bonks again! (i told you those pics weren't in order and i meant it)

three, (or four, i forgot what came first) quinneth played his first regular season game as captain of the canucks ad they kicked ass against the edmonton dudes. goncrats captain ;p

four (probably) rookie had both his first reg season nhl game AND his birth on the same day! he cried on camera for thousands of viewers and made me question kidnapping his brother and locking him in an abandoned building in ohio (who am i kidding i don't want to be in ohio). the blue jackets have since been doing blue jacket things (losing)

five (it's all blended together these days) the devs started their regular season and now i get to go to the arena and watch in peace as nico makes dumb faces, jack gets into petty scrums and goes to the box (apparently? that ones new.) and dawson does dawson things (be hot)

sixth and finally, assistant coach and captain quinn (he should probably drop a title for his mental health, me thinks) turned 24! i giggled profusely at an edit of him as tracksuit rob. good job on aging, kid 🎉

that's all, i think. (probably not, what do i know)

view 712 comments..

jj.friar31: remember when we were roomies??? siblings defying the odds?? i've been left out to dry. i'm MARINATING in my loneliness. you've basically shot me and left me out for dead, blakey.

→ blakefriarr_: this is a touch dramatic, that's MY thing

→ jj.friar31: if i agree to never steal your dramatics again will you come back

→ blakefriarr_: have u seen how pretty my boyfriend is?? no dude

→ jj.friar31: blake pls

adamfantilli: of every picture you could've used you just decided to screenshot me crying

→ blakefriarr_: hi im blake have we met??

→ adamfantilli: also, do not kidnap luca.

→ blakefriarr_: oh so you just don't want my love?? is that what this is??

→ luca.fantilli: do not kidnap me

→ blakefriarr_: BOOORRRINNNGGGGG

nicohischier: every day i wonder what it would be like if we didn't let the ebug's come into the room

→ blakefriarr_: do you want dawson to be lonely and bitchless

→ nicohischer: yeah kinda??

→ blakefriarr_: oh

jackhughes: why.

→ blakefriarr_ ehehehe your bucket doing weird things

_quinnhughes: ??????? why am i tracksuit rob????

→ blakefriarr_: who else would be tracksuit rob

→ _quinnhughes: nobody needs to be tracksuit rob, friar.

→ _blakefriarr_: WRONG! you do :)

_connorbedard: am i who i are???

→ blakefriarr_: no apparently you are timbaland

→ _connorbedard: oh. okay?

→ adamfantilli: @/_connorbedard you get used to it

→ _connorbedard: do i want to??

→ adamfantilli: eh. 50/50

dawson1417: oh how i've missed the chaos

→ blakefriarr_: fbejdbsjshdghshsb

→ dawson1417: sometimes it's almost like you say words

→ blakefriarr_: :p i love you

→ dawson1417: i love you too, my girl <3

tannercharlotte: this is my reality tv

→ blakefriarr_: i'll leave him for u say the word

→ dawson1417: HEY??

→ blakefriarr_: shhhh baby go sleep

→ tannercharlotte: don't leave him b he doesn't have to know

ryangraves27: she back

→ blakefriarr_: i back!!

nhlblackhawks: ??

→ njdevils: don't '??' her she's right

→ blakefriarr_: thank you (trade for charlie)

→ nyrangers: i can excuse hawks slander but i draw the line at trying to take our char

→ nhlblackhawks: you can excuse hawks slander?

→ jj.friar31: why do teams keep doing this you have ENOUGH leverage over me

trevorzegras: am i bitch one or bitch two

→ trevorzegras: actually yk what don't answer that i don't wanna know

→ blakefriarr_: too bad you're actually both jamie is an angel

view more comments..

#dawson mercer #dawson mercer x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #new jersey devils #young wild & free au !

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argisthebulwark · 1 year

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Hold Onto Me, Dear. You're Too Far Away.

summary: Drabbles of how various Skyrim men would react to their partner passing away. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Erandur, Vilkas, Teldryn, Mercer, Arnbjorn warnings: Non graphic depiction of death/loss. Grief.

Brynjolf would be lost. His mind has no capacity for work, hardly managing to keep himself upright. The depression, grief, denial, the all-consuming anguish he cannot escape is more than he can take. Eyes full of pity and empty words of reassurance do nothing, he can do nothing other than miss you. He closes himself off. He is unwilling to become close to anyone else in fear of losing yet another person he loves. There has been too much loss already, surely loneliness is easier than this. "'Hope Nocturnal's treatin' you right, love. If there's somethin' after death you better be waitin' for me."

Miraak would tear the world to shreds. Without you, he sees no point in allowing the world continuing to exist. No corner of Nirn is spared from his rage. Refusing to appear weak he forges his sadness into a burning, bottomless anger. He allows no daedra to take your body nor honor you as their champion, fighting even Hermaeus Mora away from any attempt to claim you. All other titles fell second to the one you held most dear, the one he whispered against your skin every night before sleep. His beloved. "You gave me your word! You swore that should we go, we would go together. You lied."

Erandur would mourn you deeply and eternally. He ensures that you live on in every action he takes, your memory carried on in him. Each marriage he presides over and every couple he blesses is done in your name as much as Lady Mara’s. His first and last thoughts of the day reserved only for you. Your name features frequently in his prayers, never letting you go. "My dear, I know you are looking down on me. I hope you are proud that I continued our work mending this nation, but words cannot express how badly I wish we could do this hand in hand."

Vilkas throws himself into his work. Your work. Becoming the Harbinger in your stead is only natural as you were so close, sharing the workload for years. He works himself to exhaustion because it is easier than confronting the chasm of grief that’s opened deep in his chest. It is only in the wee hours of early morning when he finally thinks of you. When night is beginning to pass and the Sun plucks at the horizon, vision blurred with oncoming sleep. He's wrapped in blankets that still smell faintly of your favorite soap and wishes desperately that you would somehow come back to him. "Please, just one more night. I can't do it all on my own. I just need one more night with you."

Teldryn loses his laughter. Gone is the friendship, all clients becoming nothing more than that. His helmet remains firmly in place as a clear barrier that he will maintain. There are too many lost friends and stories he alone remembers. He keeps the same table at the Retching Netch and can almost imagine you next to him. He stares over the rim of his drink daring you to plop down into your usual spot, laughing at the idea of being apart. Other patrons learn quickly that despite it being an empty chair it is not to be touched. "Been thinking about heading to Skyrim, I've seen enough of Solstheim to last a lifetime. Sure wish you were comin' with me."

Mercer’s rage would tear through Riften like a storm. All sense of duty is forgotten in his thirst for revenge. Bloodlust is his saving grace, the thread that keeps him from barreling headfirst into grief. Brynjolf recruited you, Delvin and Vex trained you, Maven hired you - they are all at fault in his eyes. He will not rest until your death is paid back tenfold. He bottles up any thoughts of you until he lays face up in the Cistern, bloodied and beaten by people he'd once considered family. The rage fueling his rampage finally deflates, the dam broken and that horrible ache filling every inch of his body. He lost you and had no one else to blame but himself. "Never thought I'd see the day, never thought I'd be the one left here missing you."

Arnbjorn would depart from the Dark Brotherhood. Two loves, two Sanctuaries, two tragic losses. He can't remain stuck there, frozen in time surrounded by all those memories. He's skilled enough to forge his own way in the world, departing from Dawnstar without looking back. Metal working allows him the solitude he craves, somewhere far away from persistent questions and eyes filled with pity. He wants only to escape the onslaught of memories of those he’s lost, steeling his heart against ever loving again. "This is all your fault. You're the one that made me care. Your fault for makin' me fall for you."

#skyrim #skyrim fanfic #skyrim x reader #x reader fanfic #writing #brynjolf #miraak #erandur #vilkas #teldryn sero #mercer frey #arnbjorn

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jackiequick · 4 months

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—Fearless in Smallville ~ Dc Comics OC

—-

Face Claim: Sophia Bush

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Full Name: Lucille Claire Kent

Nicknames: Lucy, Lucy Lu, Miss Kent, Claire, Clara

Age: 16-29 (spanning different seasons)

Height: 5’3” - 5’4”

Birthdate: August 3 (Leo)

Jobs: High school reporter, photographer, and reporter for Daily Planet/Gotham Gazette

Family: Jonathan Kent (father), Martha Kent (mother), Clark Kent (brother), Lois Lane (sister-in-law)

Extended Family: Kara Zor-El, Chloe Sullivan, Oliver Queen, Lana Lang, Tess Mercer, Jimmy Olsen, Arthur Curry, Cyborg, Wally West, and more

Relationship Status: Single for the most part, dated Oliver Queen, Lex Luthor, and Bruce Wayne

Personality: Lucy is brave, compassionate, and stubborn, with a tenacious streak that helps her achieve her goals. She is down to earth, determined, and often a quick thinker. Her curiosity drives her to uncover the truth, while her politeness and humor make her approachable. However, she can be headstrong and struggles with emotional boundaries. A bit of a chatterbox, she can present herself as a social butterfly when in the mood to be outgoing.

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Background: Born and raised in Smallville, Lucy grew up alongside her brother Clark, unaware of his alien origins until their teenage years. She attended Smallville High, where she was involved in various clubs and developed a love for journalism and photography. Despite initially disliking school, she found a passion for English, Art, and History, which influenced her hobbies and career choices.

Hobbies and Interests: Lucy enjoys photography, dancing, reading mystery novels, and volunteering at local shelters. She is an avid fan of classic rock music and loves baking, often trying out new recipes on weekends. Her interest in writing and reading extends to specific texts that capture her curiosity.

Goals and Aspirations: Lucy aims to become a renowned investigative journalist, uncovering stories that make a difference. She also hopes to travel the world, documenting different cultures and stories.

Skills:

Combat: Basic self-defense, proficient with guns and crossbows

Languages: Fluent in Spanish, conversational in French

Technical: Advanced photography techniques, basic hacking skills

Physical Description:

Distinctive Features: Small scar on her wrist from an accident in a cornfield, scar behind her shoulder from a bow and arrow incident on a rooftop, and rough hands due to her activities.

Fashion Sense: Casual and practical, often seen in comfortable jeans, flannels, and her favorite hoop earrings. She dresses more professionally when required for her job at the Daily Planet/Gotham Gazette.

Fears and Insecurities: Lucy has a fear of being alone, misjudged, or misunderstood. She also fears being harmed or humiliated by others, which occasionally affects her confidence in social situations.

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Education: Lucy initially disliked school and learning but grew to enjoy English, Art, and History in high school. These subjects were entertaining and engaging for her, leading to her interest in writing, reading, and photography.

Relationships: Lucy has a close-knit group of friends, including Chloe Sullivan and Lana Lang. She has had complex relationships with Oliver Queen, Lex Luthor, and Bruce Wayne, each shaping her view on trust and love.

Quotes:

“Sometimes, the truth is buried where no one wants to look.”

“Courage isn’t the absence of fear; it’s the determination to keep going despite it.”

Daily Life: A typical day for Lucy involves early morning runs, followed by a busy day at the Gotham Gazette. Evenings are reserved for spending time with friends and family or working on her latest investigative piece.

~~~

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How Lucy met Lex

You know the tale of Superman, but do you know of his beginnings? Smallville. It’s where he grew up with his family, made friends and foes, fell in love, got his education, explored his powers on his own terms, and became the man he is today.

On that very day, when Clark arrived on Earth, the Kent family were already anticipating another child. However, they couldn’t conceive until the meteor shower fell onto Smallville, nearly crashing down everything within it. In that very ship arrived a toddler not older than 2, naked. Martha, Jonathan, and Lucy were turned upside down in shock at the young boy. Lucille Claire Kent was less than 5 but curiously smiled in her daddy’s arms while her mother gently picked up the boy, wrapping him in a red blanket. Jonathan was confused, looking up at the sky as his wife searched for answers, finding Lionel Luthor and his son Lex Luthor amidst the chaos. Clark became warm and gentle, very much in awe of his newfound world.

Lucille, Clark, and Lex all sat in that truck, never to be seen again until later on in high school.

That same day, they met again, after older Lex, almost fresh out of college, knocked his car across a bridge, hitting Clark as the police, firefighters, and ambulance arrived later on. Along with Lucy and their father to see the damage. 48 hours later, a gift was sent to Kent Farm, a gift from Lex for the accident that happened. A car and a necklace. Their father wasn’t the happiest man alive to be seeing these gifts, knowing Clark is still too young to drive around town and Lucy’s jewelry might not even be real, possibly causing her an allergic reaction or something. But the more pressing matters were how Clark was completely fine after that accident!

Their parents knew the possible reason behind that issue, but the siblings were confused as hell. Even going as far as to test out that theory, noticing that Clark runs rather fast, doesn’t get hurt that easily, and etc. He is an alien! As they found out soon enough by their parents.

Later on that week, Lucy arrived at the mansion to find Lex in his office. They never got an actual chance to properly speak to one another. He was dressed in a navy blue sweater, black pants, and dress shoes in comparison to her green and blue flannel, t-shirt, jeans, and black flats along with her favorite hoop earrings.

She stood in the doorway holding up a basket of fruit, knocking on the door to catch his attention. He looked up with a smile, standing up from his chair to greet the young woman, motioning for her to come inside.

“Hi,” she said with her slight raspy voice and giggly smile, “Oh um, your guard let me in.”

He chuckled, “Hey. And yeah, I was going to ask how you got inside.”

“Charm, I guess?”

“I guess so. So, what brings you by?”

“Uh, I just wanted to thank you for the necklace and the truck. But I don’t know why, because it’s not me you crashed into, it was my brother.”

“Yeah, but you looked rather in bad shape as well. I figured a gift could cheer you up and apologize for the accident I caused.”

“Yeah..Dad’s not too happy about that. He thinks you’re just winning us over or something like that.”

He walked with her around the room, taking the small fruit basket out of her hands and placing it on the desk. Lex asked, “Well am I?”

“I’m afraid to say that you won me over,” she replied with a chuckle.

“That was sort of the plan.”

“Well, it worked.”

“You said Clark is your brother, older brother I’m guessing?”

“Oh no, quite the opposite actually. I’m older by two years. He’s a freshman and I’m almost a junior.”

“Wow, really? You both look rather young.”

“Genetics I guess. But you’re rather young yourself.”

The two smiled and chatted, laughing every so often. Taking a liking to each other rather quickly. Lucy could see what Clark, who had already met up with Lex twice, meant by saying he’s a pretty alright person. Charming, kind, strong-minded, well-mannered, rich, and impressive. Lex found himself taking a great fondness to her. He didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t met that many people in Smallville just yet, or what it was. But he found her sweet, silly, charming, open-minded at times, and a bit of a chatterbox. He didn’t mind it at all.

The two became friends within that week.

Little did they know that friendship would soon turn upside down...

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How Lucy Met Bruce Wayne Years Later

Meanwhile, while Clark was off training with his powers, Lucy went to Metropolis to start as a young intern for the Daily Planet. Just picking up coffee and donuts for the staff, assisting with actual reports, picking up dry cleaning, and getting things done in general.

Eventually, Perry White gave her the opportunity to start actually doing more writing and photography than just picking up dry cleaning for the staff. She grinned, working with Jimmy Olsen on a few small pieces for the Daily Planet, getting to deal with the morning greetings and nightly specials collection of the paper.

Finding whatever opportunity for what she deemed as interesting subjects that young folk like her and Jimmy would enjoy. Around that same time, Clark returned home, and she hugged her big brother, suggesting that he get a job at the Daily Planet as well. The Kent Siblings at the Daily Planet!

He accepted her request, deciding to take a crack at it and thinking it would be rather helpful for when he gets his real opportunity to save the lives of many. The moment he arrived at the Daily Planet, he met her. Lois Lane. And he was starstruck the second he saw her, fumbling over his words as the pair spoke. He could practically hear his sister coughing down a few giggles from her desk the entire time. Can you blame her? She found it adorable.

But her moment to become starstruck came only a few short days after her meeting with Perry White. He wanted a few reporters from the Planet to fly over to Gotham Bay to get the latest footage and scoop on the Charity Events being hosted there. Lucy was picked out of all the other reporters, being dragged into the mess with people such as Cat Grant and such.

She always heard about Gotham's modern-day elements with that vintage noir style that made it feel classy. Timeless even.

The moment she arrived at Gotham airport in a hurry to reach her hotel and get a feel for the actual city she would be placed into for the next few days, Lucy bumped shoulders with someone, giving a small sorry not realizing she dropped her sunglasses. Thankfully, the person she bumped into did.

He noticed the simple silver dollar glasses that landed on the floor, calling out, “Excuse me, miss?”

She turned around, hummed quietly facing the person who she assumed called her back there. She pointed to herself to make sure, the man noticed jogging up to her.

Once he did, she got a better glimpse of him. Tall, rich bright blue eyes that are as clear as day, and a soft wide smile. Along with a noticeable mark on his upper cheekbone.

“I believe you dropped these,” he said with a smile holding up the statement sunglasses.

“Oh uh-yes I did,” she replied, fumbling with her bag on her shoulder, smiling softly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Things happen.”

“Thank you, Mr…”

“Wayne. Bruce Wayne.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne.”

“No problem.”

“Do you need a hand?”

“Uh um, yes please.”

He helped carry the suitcase out the door, as she held her bag. The two smiled, holding up to a 5-minute simple conversation waiting for the taxi to arrive. He opened the door for the lady, placing the suitcase beside her. She closed the door, thanking him once again for the help.

Before the taxi driver could take off, Bruce leaned down facing the window remembering something, “I didn’t get your name.”

“Lucy,” she replied with a smile.

The taxi driver drove off, leaving Bruce Wayne standing there with a smile. He chuckled at the thought, as he heard Alfred call from him saying that his car was ready to take him home. Alfred saw the look on his face, smiling to himself, enjoying the thought of the young man happy for whatever reason.

Two nights later, the Charity Event arrived, Lucy walked in a short gray dress, that had pockets near the front, red pumps, and her hair tied up with pieces hanging out to frame her face. She wasn’t going for anything fancy, just something business casual and professional.

She took tips and quick interviews from people, getting a feel of the Charity Event as well as the people of Gotham. The elite center of men and women asked for photos to be requested in their inboxes, meanwhile other folks gladly spoke to them answering simple questions. Such as Jim Gordon who spoke to her and Cat Grant with such calm intellect that made them feel comfortable during the event.

A few ladies went running around and past them, finding themselves on the other end of the hallway towards the elegant man who walked into the building. Gushing, asking him things, flirting with the man in question, and requesting a few dances on the floorboard. Hell, even Cat Grant rushed over, hoping to snatch him up for a few minutes to herself. All Bruce Wayne could do was laugh and smile, catching a glimpse of the women in the far right corner loudly giggling. They locked eyes, recognizing each other again. She shrugged at the chaos as he mouthed jokingly, ‘help’.

She jokingly mouthed, ‘You’re on your own.’ The woman walked away sipping her drink, grabbing an interview with a few ladies of the jurying party. Some time later, she found herself on the dance floor with a nice blonde billionaire chatting away mid-laugh, until the blue-eyed man from earlier asked if he can cut in.

The pair nodded, as both men switched places. Now her hands were placed securely in his own, as his other gently lay on her waist. Her arm rested above his shoulder with ease.

“So, Mr. Wayne..” She said, being cut off by a smile.

“Bruce. You can call me Bruce.” He replied with a smile.

“Bruce. I see you escaped the attack of the wild she-wolves.”

“Ah, well, you see I’m a master at escaping situations like that one.”

“It’s a gift then, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce smiled, liking the way it rolled off her tongue, he almost would’ve melted at the sound. His last name came off too sly, tender, and sweetly dressed like a cowboy’s favorite slice of pie on a nice sunny day. She returned the smile, getting lost in his eyes for a moment with a raised eyebrow.

“What? Like what you see?” She teased him with a grin, “Mr. Wayne.”

“Stop that,” he replied with a grin, twirling her around.

“Stop what?”

“The way you say my name, Ms. Kent.”

“Or what?”

“I might have to show you the town and then take you home.”

“A billionaire’s house? No thank you, hon. Wait—I didn’t tell you my last name..”

She landed mid-twirl into his arms, their chests against one another as she let a blush rise to her cheeks.

“It’s on your name tag,” he said with a smile, it was his turn to make her melt a bit tonight.

“Oh um, right,” she added, swaying in place as her eyes landed on his face.

“Yes?”

“I have a question.”

“Go for it.”

“Did you know about me coming here tonight?”

“No, I had no idea they were sending a Daily Planet reporter to Gotham, darling.”

“Fair, are you here for the Charity or free drinks?”

“Oh not exactly, Wayne Enterprises is offering a huge donation to the orphanage and hospitals nearby.”

Lucy smiled hearing that. She remembered hearing from Lois that Gotham men can be trash sometimes, but that's not what she sees. Especially adoring the fact that he was someone with money giving to the less fortunate, it was sweet and showed that he cared.

She smiled softly, “That’s lovely.”

“Now I have a question to ask you.” He added, returning the smile, “If you knew who I was when we met at the airport, would you have thought differently?”

“Hmm, depending on the situation. If I had to rate it, I would’ve given you a 7 for kindness and generosity towards me.”

“I’ll take it. May I say, you’re a good dancer, Ms. Kent.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne.”

“You have a slight change in accent, where are you from?”

“Uh, can you guess?”

“Hmm, Tennessee?”

“Close. It’s the southern part of the country, Kansas.”

“Kansas? Never met anyone from there before.”

“Well now you have!”

“It’s my lucky day.”

The pair kept chatting, Lucy being able to get some insight into Wayne Enterprises and the CEO of the company, but still wanting more about Gotham. Bruce found himself very responsive and liking the fact that she didn’t see him as the billionaire or walk away like the other women at the party. His eyes rushed to meet her face, taking it all in.

The two got to know each other fairly well. But it didn’t stop there, as the next morning he showed up at her hotel doorstep requesting to show her the city for the article she was writing. She agreed, following him to the limousine, where Alfred Pennyworth introduced himself graciously.

Little did the pair know that they would be dating afterwards. Spending visits to Gotham and Metropolis, date nights, and meeting friends. That’s how Bruce actually met Clark Kent and Lois Lane. Superman met Batman during those visits, growing respect for one another.

World’s Finest.

That's all folks! I have a short story on how Oliver Queen met Lucy but that would have to be for another time ;) Anyways let me know what you think in the comments below!

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @cherrysft @rickb-chaos @starkleila @infinetlyforgotten @meiramel @sherloquestea @djs8891 @buckysteveloki-me @yetanotherwells @nakiaswg @carellmcu @ximehs @xgoddessoffandomsx

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puck-luck · 29 days

Note

There’s not enough Dawson fics on here and I feel like you’re my dealer lol 😂 can I request a Dawson fic where he’s all riled up after that last game with the rangers (ya know where he was in the fight but not the line brawl?) and as soon as he sees his girl he lets out all that energy? Like maybe they don’t even get to the apartment and they get that car rockin 👀

(His fight in that game just isn’t talked about enough)

warnings: semi-public sex (locker room), oral (m!receiving) pairing: dawson mercer x fem!reader summary: (see above) wc: 1174

You know that the locker room is a sacred space for the players. You’ve seen other WAGs enter, but you’d never dared to enter the room until now. You had never really wanted to go in the locker room anyway, since it’s smelly and an entirely-too-masculine type of messy.

However– Dawson was ejected for the rest of the first period for fighting Will Cuylle. Your boyfriend, who is usually the kind to trade legal hits with players, was ejected for fighting. It’s abnormal behavior for him and you need to know what’s going on– what’s wrong.

“Dawsy, baby, what happened out there?” You ask, knocking softly on the doorframe of the locker room. You peek around into the dressing area, seeing your boyfriend sitting half-dressed in front of his locker. His head is in his hands and he only looks up once you speak.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head because he knows his response isn’t good enough. “Just got frustrated,” he grumbles. “First Ruff is fired, which is hard because it was the middle of the fucking season. We can barely fucking function with a head coach, but we’re a wreck without a proper coaching staff. We’ve got too many fucking injuries on the team right now, too, and then we have to play the Rangers? We fucking hate those guys and they hate us. This game is shit.”

“Babe,” you say, frowning. “You can’t think like that. You won’t win like that.”

Dawson sounds a little hysterical with anger when he replies to you. “I don’t really give a shit about winning right now.”

His tone strikes you at first, sparking frustration of your own, but you’ve always been a more level-headed person. You tilt your head to the side and look at Dawson, saying nothing.

He turns his palms up and gestures helplessly at you. “I’m just–”

“I know, honey,” you murmur. You sink down to sit next to him, touching his jawline gently. “You’re having a hard game.”

Dawson melts into your touch, groaning lowly. You can feel that he’s disappointed with himself, but also with the game in general.

“Where are the other ejectees?” You ask, making light of the moment.

“Up in the box, watching in their suits with plenty of food and drink,” Dawson tells you, pouting slightly. “I want to go back on the ice, but I wouldn’t complain if I got to go upstairs and hang out for the rest of the night.”

“Well, baby, you know they’ll be doing sprints tomorrow to make up for the shifts they missed,” you say. “Be glad you don’t have to do that.”

“Mhm,” Dawson hums. He takes your hand and squeezes it.

After a beat of silence, you bite your lip. “So, we’re alone in the locker room.”

“Mhm,” Dawson hums again.

A smile creeps across your face. “Take your pants off.”

Dawson perks up, looking at you with a surprised blink.

You continue. “Dawsy, chop-chop. You know how we handle your frustration at home. We’re all alone in the locker room. Take your pants off.”

“Can’t believe you’re going to make me dress for the game all over again,” Dawson teases, but he’s already unlacing the padded shorts and shifting them down.

He gives you just enough room to work with. You’re able to pull him out of his underwear, albeit hindered a little bit by his cup. He’s sweaty from the game so far. You can smell it on him, which sucks because he stinks but is wonderful because he feels just that much more turned on by this.

The head of his cock is salty in your mouth. It takes one purse of your lips around his cock for Dawson’s hand to find the hair on the back of your head. He gathers it into a bundle for him to hold onto, then starts to guide your movements.

You relax, widening your jaw as much as you can so that Dawson can fill your mouth the way he wants to.

That’s the key part of this– he was frustrated, so he has to solve his problem. You’re just the conduit.

“Fuck, baby, so nice,” Dawson drawls. He pushes your head down, gagging you slightly before he lifts you up. “Love it when you take what I give you.”

You hum around his cock, gargling a little on your response. “Then give it to me.”

He definitely doesn’t understand what you said, but Dawson starts to drag you up and down his cock at a faster pace. You love how his thick fingers tug at the roots of your hair. His grip is tight and mind-numbing. The blurt of his precum over your tongue is like the first sip of a drink you’ve craved for hours.

His cockhead nudges the back of your throat, triggering another constriction. He pulls back, then forces forward again.

You look up at him, your eyelashes fluttering with each gag. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes and you struggle to breathe through your nose, but you’re as perfect as a picture to Dawson. He’d do a lot of things, including getting ejected from the rest of the game, to keep you like this forever.

His pace increases over the next few minutes. You alternate from looking at the hair on his thighs to the sweat that beads along his hairline as he continues to fuck his cock into your mouth. His lips are parted slightly and his breath grows ragged, the telltale sign that he’s close.

With one look at the clock above the door, Dawson knows he needs to finish soon. With your perfect lips around his cock, that isn’t hard to do.

You simply lather your tongue on the underside of Dawson’s length, tracing the veins there in a ticklish way. It has Dawson’s hips jumping into your heat. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat with every thrust and he holds you close. Even though it’s impacting your breath and making you lightheaded, you stay. The proximity is making you a little wet, too.

Dawson comes down your throat with only a few minutes to spare before the period ends. It gives him enough time to pull his gear back on and cover himself, to smooth your hair out of your face and run his fingers through it like that’s as good as a comb, and to plant one brief kiss on your lips before you have to sneak out of the room. The rest of the boys will be returning any minute. You’d hate to be caught in their sacred space.

You don’t have to ask Dawson if he’s feeling better– you can see the way his game improves once you’ve helped him release his frustration. The only proof of his frustration, other than the footage that was televised across the nation, lies in your stomach– swallowed down in a way Dawson aches to repeat after Chris Kreider scores in the last five minutes to defeat the Devils.

notes: the idea of being someone's fic dealer is so funny to me and i love it. i'll be y'all's dealer any day!

#puck-luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#dawson mercer #dawson mercer x reader #dawson mercer x y/n #dawson mercer x you #dawson mercer smut #dm91 #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic

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