#500 followers celly

[coconutcordiale]

For your 500 followers celebration I'd love to request a ficlet with Hangman and the girl next door!! ❤❤

pairing- hangman x female!reader

warnings- none idt?? Jake baking? guys there's no smut, no allusion to smut, no angst this is literal fluff (nauseating fluff at that) i don't even know who i am anymore i'm having an identity crisis

length- 0.6k

an- @dempy & anon i hope it's okay i combined y'alls requests :) thank you both sm!!!

we have officially moved away from these fics resembling anything to do with top gun and basically just using jake seresin as a face for my own stupid rom com ish

i probably took the girl next door thing a little too literally but...whatever. also i grew up in suburban california (not lemoore) and we definitely had block parties but is that a thing anywhere else? (someone told me they'd never heard of them idk)

You’re pretty sure the boxes in Jake’s house are still packed since he’s been in Lemoore for all of three weeks, and yet the neighborhood already adores him. You want to find it in you to be irritated that they’ve taken to a single man living alone much faster than they did with you.

You bet Jake never gets any questions about why he’s bought a house before getting married.

Cue eye roll.

To further your annoyance, you’re just as taken with your next-door neighbor as everyone else. You just hope you’re better at hiding it than they are.

(You’re not. But in your defense, you're the only one that comes home to see him vying for neighbor of the year by raking the leaves in your front yard, still in his flight suit.)

As if the dads need to be any more on edge, as if the moms need to trip over their words more frequently around him, Jake brings a pie to the neighborhood block party.

An actual fucking peach pie, that he made from scratch and it’s his mother’s recipe isn’t that so darling?

You briefly wonder if there was any merit to your sixth grade teacher telling you your eyes might get stuck given the amount of time that you spend rolling them.

Jake, the ham that he is, takes it all in stride. Lets the moms, grandmas, and teenage girls fawn over him, lets them pull him all over the party. Spurs it on, really, leaning in so they can get the full effect of his charming smile.

It’d be nauseating if he wasn’t so damn charismatic.

It’s maybe a little embarrassing that you’re so observant of Jake that you can tell when he gets a little uncomfortable, when Mrs. Wilkins runs her hands a little too firmly up his arm, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt where it strains around his bicep.

You’d like to think that his grin is extra warm in your direction when you appear at his elbow, making excuses about how he’s wanted over by the grill.

You try not to laugh as you hand him a beer. “You looked like you needed a save.”

He nods, looking grateful. “Thanks, darlin’.”

“Nice of you to agree to this.” You gesture to the tables of food and endless games of cornhole set up along your street. “They were pretty excited to have a welcome to the neighborhood get-together for you.”

“Walter just wanted an excuse to use his Big Green Egg, I’m sure.”

You snort. “Yeah, probably.”

Jake looks over your shoulder, panic curling in his tone. “Quick, kiss me!”

It’s a testament to what good friends you already are that you don’t even question it, instead leaning into the hand he gently places on your cheek and allowing yourself to be pulled into his hard chest.

His lips are surprisingly soft and you bite back a moan as his hand tangles in your hair. You're a little breathless as you pull back, trying not to let your mind spiral at the gossip storm you're certain you've just started.

“Where is she?”

“Where’s who?” He asks, widening those green eyes in feigned innocence.

“Whoever was coming over here? Was it Mrs. Wilkins again? She isn’t very subtle.”

He grins, eyes sparkling with trouble. “Nowhere, darlin’, just wanted you to kiss me.”

Your lips part in surprise, slapping him on the chest to reprimand him for that sneaky little trick.

“Better stay close though. I think Mrs. Wilkins might have it out for you now,” he continues, snaking an arm around your waist and tilting his sunglasses down so you can see him wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

[jackhues]

could you do an ig edit or fic (whichever one you think fits best) of youngest hughes!sister winning the 2022 olympics for figure skating and the boys (& their respective social media team capturing their reactions).

it’s kinda inspired by one of the Detroit lions players cheering on his wife with his boys supporting as well.

ooh, i love this idea! gonna make a pretty short one with one post, but i hope you like it! also since the boys weren't able to make it to the olympics (except luke) i kinda added that in!

usfigureskating:

liked by elblue_06, njdevils, youruser, and others

usfigureskating - a huge congratulations to y/n hughes for winning gold in the 2022 olympics! her brother, luke hughes, can be seen in the second slide, cheering her on with friends and other u.s. olympic hockey players and fans. her two other brothers, quinn and jack hughes, were unable to make it to the games due to nhl schedule conflicts. nevertheless, they were seen cheering their younger sister with a watch party they set up with their friends and teammates!

userone: omgg they're the cutest siblings ever i love them!

usertwo: her dress was so pretty!

jackhughes: congrats y/n/n! -> youruser: thanks jackie! -> userone: y/n/n and jackie 🥺

youruser: thank you so much for this chance! it was amazing to be able to do this for my country ❤️💙🤍 -> userthree: WE LOVE YOU!!

elblue_06: my babies 🤍 i'm so proud of you -> youruser: love you mama 💓

_quinnhughes: congratulations! -> youruser: thank you very much quintin 🤍 -> _quinnhughes: i'm feeling some sass from that comment but idk y it's targeted at me -> youruser: 'congratulations!' where's the life dude? show some energy! look alive!! -> _quinnhughes: you do know which sibling ur talking to right? -> jackhughes: nice to see you've finally accepted the fact that ur literal depression in human form

lhughes_06: congratss!!! -> youruser: thanks moose!!! -> lhughes_06: @/_quinnhughes - i told you that the exclamation marks make a difference -> youruser: they don't really, you're just my favourite sibling (atm) -> jackhughes: HEY!

userfour: i love how jack's just inserting himself in quinn and luke's comment threads

njdevils: hughes supporting hughes, we love to see it!

canucks: best siblings on and off the ice, congrats y/n!

[starry-hughes]

Quinn and Jack finding a ring in Luke’s stuff and freaking out (thinking maybe he got her pregnant and wants to do this “the right way”) before Luke tells them it’s a promise ring? (not apart of Hischier’s sister please)

500 follower celly!

-

luke had it hidden in the dresser at the lake house. jack was looking for a specific shirt. "i think i accidentally folded it with luke's clothes, he puts his clothes in the top drawer" you said to jack.

jack ran into quinn's room, slamming the door. "dude!" jack presents the ring box to quinn. "why are you showing me a ring box?" quinn asked. "i found it in luke's dresser! do you think he's proposing? oh god he got (y/n) pregnant! maybe that's why she's been sick this week!"

quinn and jack were thrown into a panic mode for their younger brother. you weren't actually pregnant, you just had gotten a small summer cold. the ring was not an engagement ring either, it was a promise ring luke got for your upcoming two-year anniversary.

the two older brothers were taking (kidnapping) luke for a "trip to the store" soon after jack found the ring. "is (y/n) pregnant?" quinn asked. before luke could answer, jack started rambling. "you guys don't have to get married if she is! plus if she doesn't want the baby, there's options of course. and you guys can't even legally drink! you can't get married!"

"oh my god! you snooped? it's a promise ring you idiots! our anniversary is next week!" luke exclaimed. "oh thank god," quinn breathed out. "i was going to throw up," jack breathed heavily.

[pray4saint]

pray4saint's 500 follower event!! : the setlist

theme – song inspired fics & blurbs (*1)

this event will last for a week. starting august 28th and ending september 4th. asks sent in after the end date will be disregarded. asks sent in before will be answered, even after the end date. mutuals and favourite readers (*2) have priority.

(*1) : credits to @ghostworrjed for this theme idea

(*2) : favourite readers [love u guys] are arissa, kay, & the rest of my current anons – @micksbby & @ghostworrjed will still have priority over other anons

– send me a number, 1-25, with one or more (poly!ship x reader is accepted) of the cc's below, unless that cc is crossed out.

– please send in one number + cc per ask. also PLEASE specify gn!reader, masc!reader, fem!reader, etc.

– cc's include and are limited to; dreamwastaken, georgenotfound, sapnap, ted nivison, charlie slimecicle, & jschlatt.

– mutuals only ! can request marauders versions of any of these, & they'll be like a bonus to each song. marauders are limited to; james potter, remus lupin, & sirius black. poly!ship x reader is accepted here too.

– this post also acts as a masterlist for the 500 follower celebration and will be updated when each request comes in. or you can search the tags #⪩⪨ / saint's 500 f celly ! or #: the setlist on my blog, these tags are also used at the bottom of this post.

1 ; song – girl in red / dreamwastaken + fem!reader, i decided

2 ; song – hozier / jschlatt + fem!reader, requested

3 ; song – finneas / sapnap + fem!reader, requested

4 ; song – girl in red / sapnap + fem!reader, requested

5 ; song – sade / ted nivison + fem!reader, requested

6 ; song – taylor swift / charlie slimecicle + fem!reader, i decided

7 ; escapism – raye, 070 shake / dreamwastaken + fem!reader, requested

8 ; song – conan gray / georgenotfound + fem!reader, requested

9 ; crush culture – conan gray / sapnap + fem!reader, requested

10 ; song – paloma faith / poly!tedschlatt + fem!reader, requested

11 ; song – coldplay / dreamwastaken + masc!reader, requested

12 ; song – neon trees / ted nivison + fem!reader, requested

13 ; song – rick springfield / cc – poly!wolfstar + fem!reader (*), requested

14 ; song – usher, alicia keys / ted nivison + fem!reader, requested

15 ; song – brent faiyez / poly!dreamnap + masc!reader, requested

16 ; song – ed sheeran / georgenotfound + fem!reader, requested – james potter + fem!reader, requested

17 ; song – alec benjamin / charlie slimecicle + masc!reader, i decided

18 ; song – montell fish / sapnap + fem!reader, requested

19 ; song – keane / sapnap + fem!reader, requested

20 ; song – taylor swift / poly!dreamnap + fem!reader, requested

21 ; song – katy perry / jschlatt + fem!reader, i decided

22 ; song – dove cameron / ted nivison + fem!reader, requested

23 ; song – saweetie / jschlatt + fem!reader, i decided

24 ; song – 2 artists / sapnap + fem!reader, i decided

25 ; songs – 2 artists / sapnotfound + fem!reader (*), requested

(*) : designed for/must be poly!ship x reader

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

[sarahsmi13s]

|| old recipes ||

a taste of memories

They say the senses can retrieve memories we've long forgot. Smells, textures and even tastes can give you a bittersweet look into what was. It's why Rosie cared so much about getting this cookie recipe just right, because Bradley deserved to have a piece of his childhood back. From a time before he was plaged with night terrors. And Carole's Christmas cookies was the least Rosie thought she could do. And it was more than enough.

a bonus for @desert-fern and her WWII babes Roo and Rosie because i misread a previous request but my brain wouldn't let go! so, i hope you like it. i love ya!

these two are perfect for each other, and i cried, like actually cried, when reading the snipets share with me

if you haven't read any of Roo and his Rosie, you can do so here and here

you can find all of the moodboard for this celebration here! -> unwrap us!!

[comphy-and-cozy]

CONGRATS ON 500!!

🌺 Matthew Tkachuk and prompt 89 please!!

thank you so much, friend! tkachuk is actually on my no go list, so I chose to write for a different matty - everyone’s favorite long island dilf (bc he makes me actually foam at the mouth). this probably got a little away from the actual intention of the prompt but it’s sort of a brief culmination of some thots I’ve had regarding sugar daddy!matty. hope you enjoy either way ☺️

celebrate 500 with me!

Prompts: #89 “YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!”

Pairing: Matt Martin x sugar baby!reader (f)

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: Language, sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamic, angst, references to sex/adult themes, baby talk (like, actual discussion of having babies, not ddlg).

The dial of the phone sounds in your ear while you storm to a secluded area of your office. There’s a slow drawl on the other end when he answers, a slow ‘Hello?’ uttered with what you already know is a smirk.

“You sent me pictures of you naked while I was in a work meeting!” you huff, yelling as loud as you can while keeping your voice at a whisper.

“And a video too,” he quips back lazily. “Those meetings are boring, anyway, babe. You tell me that all the time.”

“Matty, I could get fired —”

“Good. I want you to.”

With a roll of your eyes, thankful that he can’t see your physical protest of sass, you let out a sigh. He’s not serious, not entirely, but there’s some truth behind his words. “We’ve talked about this, Matt.”

You don’t have to see him to know he’s barely regarding you, blowing a bubble of spearmint gum that he chews in his lackadaisical way. “Yeah. ‘Work a few more years’ this and ‘save up some money’ that, as if I’m not providing plenty for you.”

“It’s not about that, and you know it,” you hiss quietly, glancing around to make sure you’re still alone in the concealed hallway. “I want to provide for myself.”

“That why you’re an NHL player’s sugar baby? Sucking my dick for money? Taking it up the ass so you can afford that fancy apartment and your designer bag?”

“Fuck you, Matty.”

“Right now? But you’re at work.” He’s pushing your buttons, riling you up, because he likes you best when you’re fiery.

You click your phone, hanging up angrily without responding, because you know what he’s doing. Still, it doesn’t prevent the frustrated exhale from passing through your nose as you try to compose yourself. A text from Matt buzzes shortly after you return to your desk, a Love you typed out so easily as if it can remove all of the irritation he’s built up in you. It can, and you know it, and so does he.

When you get home later that day, there’s a bouquet of flowers in an expensive-looking vase sitting on your kitchen counter. The handwritten note, scrawled in Matt’s chicken scratch, says simply, ‘Sorry for sending a video of my dick. Just want you to have my babies.’

If anyone else were to happen upon this, you wouldn’t blame them for having about a million questions. You still did, and it was your life.

It had started in a simple arrangement: he’d pay you handsomely to attend some events with him, be the pretty young thing on his arm, keep him company on a few lonely nights. The initial agreement was no sex, which you quickly abandoned as your attraction to him grew unexpectedly, along with your feelings for him and all of his nonchalant confidence and crooked smile. You weren’t really sure how you’d label the relationship, committed to one another in a haphazard sort of way, casual and cool and entirely (and infuriatingly) informal. And although you’d told him you didn’t need the payments anymore, he just kept sending them.

Truthfully, it was the only thing holding you back from really committing to him — not that you could ever look at any other man now that you’ve had him — because, despite his love you’s and all of his promises that he wasn’t fooling around on you when he was away, there was still a part of you that wasn’t sure that this wasn’t one big transaction. Not once had you ever felt like his true girlfriend, or partner, or whatever you wanted to call it, without the asterisk and the fine print at the bottom of that label.

And here he was, asking you day in and day out to have a baby with him — to carry his child, bonding you for life even if he never placed a ring on your left hand, never signed that certificate in the state of New York.

The problem wasn’t that he didn’t treat you well; in fact, he treated you like a queen, even through his snark and deprecating humor, which you admittedly loved. He was, hands down and without a shadow of a doubt, the best fuck you’d ever had and surely ever would have, never failing to leave you anything but completely satiated.

The truth — and the problem — is that you are unequivocally and hopelessly in love with him, and you know that you would never recover if he decided he was done with your fun little adventure, if he threw you to the side once he had what he really wanted from you. You didn’t have the security you craved — needed — from him, partially because you weren’t even sure what that looked like.

So, to say your relationship status is complicated is a bit of an understatement.

You send a quick thank you text, then see the delivery notification of a Givenchy package. He’s pulling out all the stops, but you know that you’re going to return every item in the box without even looking at them.

It’s the third day of minimal communication that Matt realizes something is truly wrong, that you’re not just giving him your normal attitude. Instead of showing up at your door with a pair of Louboutins or a Cartier bracelet, he’s holding a paper bag full of styrofoam containers when he knocks on your door.

“What are you doing, Matty?” you ask flatly, though you step aside to let him in anyway.

“Thought you might be hungry,” he replies. “Brought you dinner from your favorite Indian place.”

“Matt, that place is like, 30 minutes out of the way.”

He shrugs, setting the bag on your counter and moving to pull out the containers. It’s not lost on you how comfortable he is in your kitchen, pulling out plates and utensils like he owns the place (he kind of does). Pushing a plate towards you, he watches as you scoop a healthy portion of rice and palak paneer, accompanied by what you firmly believe to be New York’s best garlic naan.

“I’m sorry,” he says, without any pretense or build-up.

“For?”

“For pushing you. For still paying you even when you asked me not to. For this whole weird dynamic.”

You can’t even hide the surprise on your face, eyebrows raising as your spoonful of rice sits halfway in your mouth.

“I’m done with this. I’m terminating our contract.”

Your heart sinks to the floor, crushed instantly by his words. This, you think, this is exactly why I never had your babies.

He continues, “Be mine. For real. No contract, no obligations, just us.”

You continue to stare at him, mouth gaping open, food completely fallen off your spoon at this point. He looks at you with uneasy eyes, trying to gauge your reaction — and failing.

“I’m not — are you — Matt —”

That stupid crooked smirk forms on his handsome face, enjoying the way you stutter. He takes the spoon out of your hand before taking both of your hands in his, turning to face you fully. “I’m sorry that it took so long to do this. I want you. I love you.”

“Jesus, Matt.”

“Jesus, Matt, I love you? Jesus, Matt, I’m so happy? Jesus, Matt, fuck off and never come back?”

With a roll of your eyes, you ignore his questions, instead pulling him forward to kiss him, savoring the heat of his lips against yours and the way his hands instantly slip to your hips, holding you close to him. For the first time ever, you can feel the love in his body transferring to yours, evident in the way he kisses you like he’s only got one chance left to prove it.

His eyes are soft when you pull away, crinkling into a smile when you ask, “Are you just saying all of this so I’ll have your kids?”

“No, but what do you say we get to practicing making one?”

[cellythefloshie]

– ao3 – ask & i’ll answer –  for recs check out my bookshelf! –  join my taglist! – 

So this, this snuck up on me a lot faster than I had anticipated. 500 of you? Following me? Crazy. It seems I have blinked and it happened so I'm going to be doing something a little different for the celebration this time - because I swear I just posted the last of my 300 follower appreciation.

Inspired by @senditcolton 's Hozier prompt list (she did such an amazing job with it and her blurbs so go check them out), I have made a prompt list of my favorite songs from a variety of artists. There are 10 songs, which means only 10 blurbs (which will probably be more along the lines of tiny fics compared to the blurbs I did for the 300-follower celebration). Headlining are my favorite lyrics, here is the Spotify playlist with all of the songs for you to enjoy.

Submit your claim for a specific lyric paired with a player (make sure to read my rules regarding who I write for before you submit). It is on. first come first serve basis for the sake of my own sanity because I know if I do more than 10 I'll still be writing them when I hit my next milestone. The list will be updated as the requests are received. *Prior to posting I shared my prompt list with some friends who wanted to assure Vince Dunn got his prompt. Therefore he will not be eligible for any prompt except for the one that has already been decided for him: Prompt 3, Can't Fight the Moonlight.

;; 500 Follower Celebration

The Night We Met - Nico Hischier I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.

Delicate - Freddie Andersen Phone lights up my nightstand in the black, come here; you can meet me in the back.

Can't Fight the Moonlight - Vince Dunn If you think that you won't fall, well just wait until the sun goes down.

Tainted Love - Ross ColtonI've got to get away from the pain you drive into the heart of me.

So Good - Adam Lowry Do I think about the one that got away? I know his name, I think about him every day.

Boyfriend - Mat Barzal What are the chances? Everyone's dancing, and he's not with you.

I Wanna Be Yours - Brandon HagelSecrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought.

I Ain't Worried - Anthony Beauvillier I don't know what you've been told, but time is running out, no need to take it slow.

Everybody Talks - Gabe Landeskog It started with a whisper, and that was when I kissed her.

Drops of Jupiter - Dallas Star of My Choice 👀 Jake Oettinger Was it everything you wanted to find, and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

And as always I'm going to wrap up this appreciation to shout out all of the lovely writers and readers who are such an important part of my little community! Every single one of them is talented and is just the sweetest of people so if you for some reason do not follow them already please do so.

@hagelpoint-3821 @starshine-hockey-girl @callsign-denmark @hischierdevils @wyattjohnston @laurenairay @luvmmarner @swissboyhisch @behoright @claireelle18 @midnightsnyx @snugglyducklingbrewhouse @manrocket-mo @txstars @senditcolton @equallyshaw @mp0625 @comphy-and-cozy @hoesforthecanes @puckmaidens @hockeyboysimagines @stlbluesbrat21 @iamveryborrrreddd

And I know I probably missed A LOT of people, so please be sure to check out @cellysbookshelf because I do my best to reblog all of the wonderful fics I read from this community that I couldn't be happier to be a part of.

[ab4eva]

My loves - we recently reached 500 followers, which is just amazing to me!! Thank you all so much for making this little corner of the internet one that brings me such joy and is truly special! As a little celebration, feel free to send in the requests below for a little thank you from me to you! Xo Christi

ASK HERE

💕 MAIN MAN MOOD BOARD: Send me your name (or username) and your name of choice (Elvis or Austin) and I’ll send you a curated mini mood board with pictures that pop up when I add your name + their name.

✨ MAIN MAN DRABBLE: Send me a word and your man of choice (Austin, Elvis, Austin!Elvis) and I’ll write a little drabble for you.

🎶 CURATED SONG: Send me 3 words that describe you and I’ll choose a song for you based on that.

🎥 MOVIE MOOD BOARD: Send me your favorite Elvis movie or favorite Austin movie/tv show and I’ll make you a mini mood.

🫧 HEADCANONS: Send me a prompt and your man of choice (Austin or Elvis) and I’ll write a few headcanons based on that.

[bordysbae]

20. "that's the prettiest fan i've ever seen", 30."i like that outfit on you, and 14. "can i get your number?" w luke where in his first nhl game he sees a fan in the stands wearing his jersey and throughout the game they make eye contact and when he’s leaving he bumps into her

“forty-three”

luke hughes x f!reader

🦋 BORDYSBAE’S 500 CELLY!

— ୨୧ —

as you sit by the glass with your hockey addict father by your side, you watch as the red jerseys skate past you chasing loose pucks. warmups are fun to watch, but when you’re dragged to nearly every home game by your father, they get a little boring after some time. today is different though. you’re wearing the number 43 on your back instead of the usual 6 for john marino. it’s your first time getting to see luke play in person, and you’re nothing but ecstatic.

as luke and jack casually shoot each other pucks and shove each other around, luke immediately spots a familiar number in the stands, worn by a pretty girl. “holy shit jack, look!” he says to his brother as he slyly points to you, “that’s the prettiest fan i think i’ve ever seen!”

“oh congrats man, you made it! you’ve got fans,” he smirks as he shoves luke one more time, before exiting the ice with the rest of the team. luke takes one last glance at you before following behind his teammates. you notice him looking at you, but you don’t think too much of it. it’s something you’re used to, seeing as your dad has season tickets in the very first row. your cheeks heat up a little at his gaze, and you hide your face as he skates away.

—

eventually the game comes to an end and you separate from your dad as you decide to use the restroom. your dad tells you he’ll meet you in the car, so you don’t mind taking your time. as you’re leaving the arena, a voice calls out to you. “hey, i like that outfit!” the male voice says. you nervously turn your head to the left and see luke hughes in the passenger seat.

your breath hitches when you realize what’s happening, “oh thank you!” you chuckle nervously. you walk closer to the car and notice his phone being handed towards you, “can i get your number?” he asks, seemingly nervous.

“oh of course! and congrats on the win guys!” you smile. you’re too nervous to ask for a picture, but you have luke’s number now so that’s still a win in your book.

“i’ll text you, okay? and, i think that should be your go-to jersey, ms..” he looks down his phone to see the name you put in his phone before continuing, “y/n y/l/n.”

you can feel the heat in your cheeks but you play it cool, “yeah alright. i’ll be expecting that text, hughes,” you say before waking to the car where you father has a big smirk on his face.

[babydollmarauders]

KIDS — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

FAITHLYNN’S 500 CELLY!

🌷: “They’re not your kids, back the f*ck off.” & “That was kind of hot.” & “How is my wife more badass than me?” with Jack.

warnings: toxic mother (readers mom), profanity

as a mom, one of my biggest pet peeves is when someone else tries to parent my children. it happens most often with my own mother. she and i never had a great relationship, and i thought it may get better now that i have my own kids, but i was wrong, it’s only gotten worse.

she makes passive aggressive comments about Jack and i’s parenting choices, tries to undermine my decisions, and has even completely disregarded my words completely. but the real cherry on top is what’s happening right now.

Jack just got back from a roadie, and he was spending time with the kids when my mom showed up at our house. when i asked her what she was doing here, she said that she ‘thought i might need some help with the kids while Jack slept’. which rubbed me the wrong way because first of all, she knows he always sleeps on the plane so that he can play with Eli and Luella when he gets home; and second of all, she acts as if i don’t take care of my children all on my own the entire time he’s traveling.

“mom, what the hell?” i stage whisper, standing across from her in the kitchen. i glance out the kitchen doorway towards the living room, where Jack lays on the floor on his stomach, between our four year old and two year old, coloring with them. “you know full well that we’re perfectly fine.”

“well, i just wasn’t sure. you know, he spends so little time with them already, and he just got back from a long trip, i figured he would be tired. so i came over to take care of them so he could sleep.” she feigns innocence, raising her hands up in mock surrender.

“do you realize how bad he already feels about being away from them? he does the best that he can in order to spend as much time with them as possible, and you coming here, just assuming that he’d be giving up any time he has with them, is rude and disrespectful.” i tell her.

“well now that i’m here, i’d like to spend some time with my grandchildren.” she says.

“fine. whatever.” i storm out of the kitchen, and Jack’s head pops up when i walk back into the living room. his eyebrows raise at the sight of my irritated expression and i shake my head to tell him that i don’t wanna talk about it. his attention is pulled away when Eli calls for him, telling him to look at his drawing, and Jack praises our son’s art skills.

my mother follows me into the living room, and Luella stands to come show me her picture.

“look! mommy!” i crouch down, looking at her page of multicolored scribbles.

“it’s amazing, Lu! you did such a good job!” i tell her, my smile wide as i clap for her. she giggles and turns to show her grandmother the drawing, but my mom pays no attention to the art.

“oh, Luella.” my mother scolds. “look at your pretty dress, it’s all covered in popsicle. you have got to be more careful. and you shouldn’t have been eating a popsicle this early in the day.”

i roll my eyes. she can’t even help criticizing a two year old.

“she wanted one after lunch, and she did a good job with her food, so we gave her one, mom.” i tell her, my tone hostile.

“you need to stop giving them so much sugar.” she replies. “no wonder they have trouble listening. all that sugar and barely any adult supervision”

“they’re not your kids, back the fuck off.” i say lowly through a passive aggressive smile. “they have trouble listening sometimes because they’re children. and they have plenty of adult supervision.”

“i’m just trying to help you, y/n. lord knows you could use it.” she huffs. my eyes go wide as i look at Jack to see if he heard that, and i know he did because the muscle in his jaw ticks from clenching it. but i know he won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to offend his mother-in-law.

“Jack.” my words are sweet, but venom drips from my voice, and i square my shoulders to prepare for an argument. “can you please take Luella to get changed? and take Eli with you.”

my husband jumps up at my words, corralling our kids into Lu’s room.

“what the fuck is your problem?” my tone is harsh as i attempt to keep my voice down. “those are my children. if i needed your help, i would ask for it. i’m sick and tired of you coming over here and making comments about our parenting or judging my husband for how he takes care of our family. Jack loves his job. he loves hockey. and yes, he has to leave sometimes, for a week at most, but he is the best father to our children.”

“y/n-” she starts.

“no! i’m not done. if you want to continue to be a part of their lives, you’re going to stop with the passive aggressive comments. you’re going to quit undermining our authority. and for the love of god, you are going to stop criticizing my children! you already fucked up my childhood and i will not let you ruin theirs.” i’m nearly yelling at this point, my anger reaching new levels. “do i make myself clear?”

my mother huffs, eyeing me up and down before nodding.

“good. now i’d like for you to leave. i would like to spend time with my children, whom i love very much, and their amazing and selfless father.” i tell her. my mom spins around, stalking towards the front door and i don’t move until i hear the door shut. it’s then that i finally let my shoulders slump, heaving out a deep sigh.

Jack steps out of the kids room, the children trailing after him as he makes his way over to me. his hands grip my waist as he pulls me against him, a smirk gracing his lips.

“that was kind of hot. like, seriously, how is my wife more badass than me?” he leans down, pulling me in for a kiss. his lips are soft and taste like the grape popsicle he shared with Luella earlier. “you did great, baby.”

“you think so? i wasn’t too harsh?” i ask, tears stinging my eyes.

“no. you said what needed to be said. i’m so proud of you for standing up to her.” he mutters against my lips.

“thank you, babe.”

-

-

[coconutcordiale]

hi! congratulations on 500!!🥳✨

could i request roommates with rooster for the bingo if it hasn’t been taken already? 🤍

you taste just like sundays (dripping off my tongue)

pairing- rooster x female!reader

warnings- 18+ minors DNI, dom bradley, oral (m receiving), degradation kink, probably not a good idea to fuck your roommate if i'm being honest but live ur life, the ‘miles teller is a mean dom so let’s pretend rooster is too’ club unites at dawn (or whenever I get around to posting this)

length- 3.3k

an- thank you so much!!! i'm sorry this took so long :( and of course apologies if this is not your thing i just run away in wild directions with these prompts

500 follower celly prompts are done yay! only took me over a month 🙃

title from u taste like sundays by łaszewo. i thought it was funny because i'm immature

You’re debating the merits of Kodiak Cakes versus Eggo frozen waffles on a late-night shopping run when you hear your name coming from a familiar voice.

You try not to tense up, but the smile on your face feels like plastic when you turn around to see the blonde. “Justin, hi.”

“I can see why you didn’t want me to come in last night.”

You pause. That’s one hell of a greeting.

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you let the freezer door slam shut, a gush of cold air raising the hair on your arms. “What?”

He gives a pointed look towards Bradley, who wandered from you moments before Justin waltzed up, still in his uniform. “Didn’t take you for a tag chaser.”

You fight the sudden urge to roll your eyes obnoxiously.

“He’s my roommate,” you respond through gritted teeth.

At least you know for sure you made the right call to not sleep with Justin last night after your mediocre date, no matter how frustrated you’ve been lately, no matter how much he reminds you of a poor woman’s Austin Butler.

He may be pretty, but he's still a dick.

Given that you don’t actually know Austin Butler, you can only hope he’s less of a dick than this guy.

Justin scoffs, “Sure, he is.”

You didn’t mind Justin’s cocksureness when you first met him in line at your favorite coffee shop, liked it even. He paid for your iced oat milk latte, forward and confident in a way only men who always got what they wanted could be.  

When he brought up taking you to dinner, it hadn’t even been a question, not really. You were surprised at how much you didn’t hate the inevitability that existed in his suggestion, like he always knew you’d say yes.

But then, he spent the entire date talking about himself, hardly letting you get a word in edgewise, and had the audacity to get angry when you didn’t invite him into your bed. So, now, you kind of want to wring his neck, twisting until the last bit of his undeserved, obnoxious pride is depleted from his annoyingly muscled body.

“Is this the fruit you like for your smoothies?” Bradley asks, oblivious, as he ambles back up to you with a red bag boasting tropical fruit blend on the front.

When you don’t answer, too busy grinding your teeth together and imagining what it'd be like to knee this overgrown frat boy in the balls, Bradley looks up from the bag, spine straightening as he clocks the tension between you and Justin.

“Hey man,” your mustached roommate says slowly, carefully, extending a hand towards Justin. “I’m Bradley.”

Justin stares at the outstretched hand in disgust and it drops back to Bradley’s side. You finally give in to the urge to roll your eyes.

The thing is the last couple of guys you slept with were so courteous, so sweet, so nice. They were barely a cut above adequate, leaving you with an itch to scratch, discontent trembling beneath your skin.

By the time you ran into Justin, you were embarrassingly ready for someone bolder. Someone a little more confident, a little more willing to take charge.

Someone a little more like Bradley, your mind supplies.

Shut up, you shouldn’t even know that, you tell it.

Unfortunately for you and your imagination, you do, in fact, know that Bradley would likely check every box that you’re looking for. The thin walls of your shared apartment ensured that months ago.

Lies to yourself aside, two minutes into a bruschetta appetizer with Justin, you had realized he was likely only going to take charge in disappointing, selfish, and unsatisfying ways.

“Don’t waste your time with her,” Justin tells him, acid dripping from every syllable. “She’s a fucking cock tease.”

Bradley’s eyes flash in anger, the bag crinkling audibly as he takes out his ire on frozen fruit. “You sure that’s something you want to have said to me?”

You watch Justin size him up, probably noting the couple of inches your roommate has on him.

“She’s not worth this shit,” he spits before turning on his heel to stalk out of the aisle.

You squeeze your eyes shut tight for a moment when he leaves, ignoring Bradley’s eyes on you. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Bradley nods tersely, silently following you to the checkout line, waffles forgotten.

+

“That’s the guy you had over last night?” Bradley asks finally when you two make it back home and are busy putting things away, disdain ringing clear through the apartment.

“No, I didn’t let him come up,” you snap, knowing it comes out a little harsher than your roommate deserves. “He called me a cock tease, remember? Because apparently letting him buy me dinner means I’m supposed to put out.”

He puts his hands up in defense. “Sorry.”

The silence stretches out awkwardly between you, the refrigerator humming as you try to focus all your attention on the absurd number of cereal boxes in the pantry.

“It just sounded like you were having a good time when I got home last night,” he mumbles.

You freeze, wondering if it’s possible to will a blush back down your body. How did you not hear him come in last night?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Rooster,” you manage a flippant tone you don’t feel at all, continuing to move things around the cupboard haphazardly.

“Didn’t mean to overstep,” he says innocently, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter across from you in your tiny galley kitchen. “I’m not judging, more impressed, didn’t know you were such a player. Going out with one guy, calling another over after.”

“I didn’t,” you defend without thinking, and you immediately want to slap your hand over your mouth.

You can feel the heat of his body at your back now, and silently will your hands to stay steady as you organize cereal boxes.

The man is such a slut for Shredded Wheat. He’s probably the only person keeping them in business at this point.

You wish you didn’t find his penchant for shitty cereal as endearing as you do.

“Oh?” He says, but there’s a shift in his tone, voice at least a couple of octaves lower now. “So, you didn’t booty-call some guy named Bradley after you kicked blondie to the curb?”

Your mouth drops open in shock. What a little shit.

You exhale shakily, knowing there’s no way you can fight the pink rising to your cheeks now. “I don’t know what you thought you heard—”

“Don’t be like that, princess,” he rumbles in your ear, sending chills all the way down your spine. “Next you’re gonna tell me it was just a dream.”

You bite your lip. How could he possibly know that was the excuse you were going to try?

He chuckles, something wicked lighting up his coffee-colored eyes as he turns you around and backs you against the counter, pulling boxes out of your hands and tossing them in the pantry without looking. “Fine, I’ll bite. What did you dream about?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you whisper, refusing to meet his eyes.

Unfortunately for your dwindling self-control, this puts your gaze right at his chest where his flight suit is partially unzipped, tan skin glowing against his black undershirt.

It’s clear he’s taunting you now. “That so? Have those dreams about me a lot?”

You furrow your brows. It’s hard to think with him this close, the spice of his aftershave muddling your senses. “That’s…not what I meant.”

“I have those ‘dreams’ about you too. Never knew you felt the same, or I might’ve said something before.”

You’re torn between elbowing him in the ribs for his obvious air quotes and dropping to your knees at the sheer dominance he’s exuding that threatens to choke you in this tiny kitchen.

Bradley must sense your hesitation because his fingers begin rubbing soothing circles at the pulse points on your wrists.

“I could tell you what I did after I heard your gorgeous voice moaning my name,” he offers, gently, softer than you expect, given he’s spent the last five minutes barely holding back his amusement.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

He trails a hand up your side, leaving goosebumps underneath the thin material of your t-shirt. “Was hard as a fucking rock, baby, you sounded so beautiful. Came in my fist thinking about how wet you must’ve been dreaming about me.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” you admit, still quiet.

He smirks at that. “I know.”

Glaring at him, there’s an accusation lacing your words. “You also knew I didn’t sleep with him last night.”

You want to smack the smug look right off his rosy cheeks when he agrees, “He doesn’t look like a Bradley.”

You don’t, though, eyes drifting to where your hands are trapped against the counter, Bradley’s weight pinning you still.

“I know what you need,” he murmurs, voice like caramel in your ears.

“And what’s that?” You fire back with a strength you don’t feel, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control over this situation that’s rapidly spiraling.

Bradley is unphased by your attitude. “I think you know, otherwise you’d have invited him up here.”

You remain defiantly silent, hoping your expression remains blank. His mouth twitches upwards as he sees right through you.

“Why didn’t you let him come up, baby?”

You avert your eyes, uncomfortable under his intense gaze because directed at you, you’ve never seen his eyes quite like this.

Bradley isn’t exactly known for being even-keeled, his temper often flaring as he lets people get under his skin. But he’s never been like that with you, never stared at you with anything but puppy dog brown eyes.

Until now.

Now, there’s a fire lighting them up. A fire you always assumed was reserved for flying multi-million-dollar airplanes or arguing with Jake Seresin.

Despite that, his voice is eerily calm when he hooks a finger under your chin, forcing your attention upwards. “Answer me, princess.”

“Knew he couldn’t give me what you can.”

Pink lips quirk up fully at that. “And how would you know that? Heard me before?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks in answer, and you find yourself fighting the urge to duck your head again.

“Did that make you jealous, baby?”

You let out a small breath and gather the last of your courage. “A little. Mostly just made me wet.”

Bradley unleashes a dry chuckle that has you running hot and cold with embarrassment before he speaks again, low and gravelly.

“Better than me. Makes me fucking angry,” he grumbles in your ear. “The thought of that idiot’s hands on you.”

It’s finally your turn to smirk, although it feels a little weak in the face of his intensity. “It’s a good thing I’ve always kept my dates away when you were home then, huh?”

Bradley’s mouth presses together in a hard line, expression turning to stone. You know you shouldn’t be proud of the way his grip tightens on your wrists, the way his nostrils flare in irritation. You take advantage of his momentary lapse to switch your positions, pressing him back against the counter.

You want nothing more than to get your mouth on him and drive every memory of other girls from his mind. You weren’t lying when you said you weren’t jealous at the time, but you can’t help the competitive part of you that wants him to know he won’t find anyone else like you.

Before you can, he grabs you by the elbows, pulling you to him for a filthy kiss. Your first kiss.

Huh.

You want to laugh, suddenly, that you were ready to have your mouth well acquainted with his cock before you even got to kiss him.

Bradley sucks in a sharp breath once you break away from his lips, eyes pools of black as he notices you trying to move to the floor. “Gonna get on your knees and take care of me?”

“Well, I have to make sure you forget those girls somehow,” you tease, sliding your hands across his abs as you shift downwards.

“If I had thought for a second I could have you instead they never would’ve made it past the front door.”

You roll your eyes at him for patronizing you but busy yourself tugging down the zipper of his flight suit instead of saying something that’ll get you in trouble.

Mouthing at his hardening cock over his boxer briefs, your fingers toy with his waistband but don’t pull them down. You’re fighting back a giggle, giddy and feeling pretty proud of yourself as you listen to his breath catch, as you see his hands grip the counter behind him.

When he opens his mouth there might as well be ice in his breath, a warning in his tone that sends shivers straight to your core. “Don’t tease me, baby, you’ll regret it.”

You acquiesce, pressing your lips together to hold in a smile, thinking it’ll go unnoticed but Bradley’s eyes flare anyways.

“Was gonna be sweet to you,” he drawls. “But I don’t think that’s what you want. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be trying to rile me up.”

Your eyes are stuck on where he strains against his black briefs, words becoming harder and harder to form the longer you perch on the tile floor.

He runs a strong finger across your jaw and you swallow hard in anticipation. “Harder to tell me than it is to push and try my patience, isn’t it?”

All you can manage is a tiny nod.

“Answer me,” Bradley says again, but this time the words are harsh, steel bracing his tone. "Use your words, princess."

You bite your lip, trying not to moan at the hand he’s busy tangling in your hair. He notices, because of course he does, and tugs, pulling the words from you.

“No, sweet is not what I want,” you whisper, blinking up at him slowly.

He grins at that, and you shudder at how mean, how mischievous that expression looks.

Bradley grabs your hands, placing them on his thighs. “Pinch here if it’s too much. If any of it’s too much.”

You raise your eyebrows at him but nod again, more confident this time, licking your lips eagerly.

The bastard laughs. You’re a little sheepish at the way the sound makes you clench around nothing.

“Should’ve known you’d be desperate for a cock in your throat.”

You try not to shift too obviously at his words, unable to stay still as you ignore your own need.

He pulls himself out and your eyes widen at the sight. Your first thought is how sore your jaw is going to be tomorrow.

Your second is that you do not care one bit as long as you get your mouth on him immediately.

Unmoved by the impatience playing itself out across your forehead, Bradley’s other hand goes back to your chin, thumb roughly pushing in to pry your lips apart. You hollow your cheeks around his finger, fluttering your lashes and making a show of it, pride swelling in your chest when he groans.

Your mind has all but turned off as his thumb retreats so he can replace it with his cock, and your tongue darts out to lick his slit, following down to drag across the vein on the underside.

The hitch in his breath almost makes you regret your hands frozen in place on his muscular thighs, lamenting letting him take the lead completely, fire burning deep within you to take him apart with your mouth.

There’s always next time.

Next time, you think wildly, hoping to whatever higher power there’s an unlimited number of next times that’ll make permanently altering your friendship worth it.

Meeting his eyes, they’re darker than you’ve ever seen them, and you can’t help the muffled whimper that leaves you as you feel him sliding deeper, relaxing your jaw as best as you can as he builds a steady rhythm.

It’s probably better like this anyways; lips stretched around his thick length, spit pooling messily at the corners of your mouth, tears forming as he presses himself in, in, in, choking you.

It’s got to be better like this; on your knees, Bradley’s fingers tangled in your hair, your panties ruined where slick pools between your thighs, each thrust driving every remaining thought from your head.

It’s definitely better like this; Bradley fucking your mouth with abandon and making you take it, watching the sinful curl of his lips through blurry, glassy eyes, the struggle to breathe settling something that’s been aching in the back of your brain for months now.

“Not gonna last very long,” he warns, hand drifting down to the front of your neck, hips stuttering ever so slightly when he feels the bulge of his cock there.

That’s hot as fuck, you think hazily amidst the fuzz inside your head. Whether it’s the fact that he can see himself in your throat, the lack of oxygen going to your head, or him being on the edge so quickly - you don’t know.

You don’t care. Nothing exists beyond the weight of his cock on your tongue, his rough thrusts in and out making your clit beg for attention.

“The way you look right now—fuck, you were made to be on your knees with my cock in that pretty mouth, weren’t you, baby?”

It should be demeaning, but all it does is make you press your thighs together to quell the heat lighting itself through you, searching for some sort of relief.

Bradley shifts back until the tip is left in, only the distressed whine you let out keeping him from pulling out completely. You push back down, as much as you can with him still holding on tight.

His jaw slackens in surprise, a groan rumbling from his chest. “Greedy little slut, aren’t you? Gonna take all of me, want my cum down your throat?”

All you can manage is a pathetic mewl in response, eyes desperate and pleading.

Rhythm faltering, he pumps into your mouth just a few more times before cumming with a shudder. Your hands flex against the green material beneath them as you swallow around him, salt on your tongue.

“You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, a fucking wet dream,” Bradley pants after he’s ridden out his high, pulling you up from the floor and against his chest.

In a show of brute strength, he hooks his arms under your legs and carries you swiftly across the short distance to your room, laying you down on your soft baby blue comforter. You’re so taken aback that you don’t even think to complain about him wearing his gross flight suit in your bed.

His chest is still rising and falling rapidly as he arranges you next to him and frustratingly does not touch anywhere that Jesus wouldn’t approve of, instead massaging your sore knees with affectionate, gentle sweeps of his fingers.

You’re trying not to rub your thighs together too obviously, trying to give him time to recover without letting the need thrumming through you take over.

Bradley drops a kiss on your forehead and rolls over to the other side of the bed. “Alright, baby, goodnight.”

Your jaw, even sore as it is already, drops in surprise, outrage plain as day on your face as you grab his shoulder in protest. When you roll him back over to you, he’s shaking with silent laughter, eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Bradley coos, condescension filling the air between you as he presses you back onto the pillows, thumbs moving to smooth out the angry lines on your face. “Hope you slept in this morning, it’s gonna be a long night.”

[jackhues]

oo could you do an ig edit for your celly? maybe older hughes!sister has a 2/3 year old kid & got to see luke’s debut and the game he scored his 1st goal, and prepping for playoffs tomorrow.

ohh i love this so much!! a little too much, and i kinda got carried away. lowkey wanna make this an au, lmk what y'all think <3

ALSO: picture credits (from the devs and caps game) to @whatashameshespuckedinthehead thank youu &lt;3

peanut's world! au masterlist!

peanut's world! au request rules!

moosey's debut!

peanutsmama:

liked by njdevils, _quinnhughes, elblue_06, and others

peanutsmama: in honour of moose's debut and first goal, pls enjoy this little dump of peanut and luke! (ft. a wild jack)

pinned peanutsmama: jack is only featured here bcz he sat on me and refused to get up until he was added

pinned peanutsmama: also, i wish i had pics of peanut in her devils jersey and enjoying her uncle lukey's debut, but someone (totally not jack) stole my charger before the game and didn't give it back

jackhughes: wowow this is why quinn's the fav older sibling -> peanutsmama: you say that online, but we all know who you run to at the smallest inconvenience -> _quinnhughes: @/yourusername, can't you let me have my moment? -> peanutsmama: no 😝

lhughes06: this just proves i'm peanut's fav uncle, i mean look at her running to me -> trevorzegras: nah she likes me more -> yourusername: actually z, i think she's a little scared of you. you were singing to tswift a little too loud last summer

userone: this is so cute

usertwo: i see two babies in the second pic -> yourusername: no lies spotted

_quinnhughes: congrats moose! (also, peanut was happier with me in vancouver) -> lhughes06: i call bs

elblue_06: oh my babies 💓 -> peanutsmama: love you ma 🤍 -> jackhughes: i love you more -> peanutsmama: get off my post

jackhughes: i guess no one's gonna say congrats to me -> peanutsmama: i thought i told you to get off my post -> _quinnhughes: congrats on being y/n's least fav sibling

peanutsdad: aww my baby ❤️❤️ -> lhughes06: thanks dad, love you too 💓 -> peanutsdad: love you more son -> peanutsmama: you ppl see what i have to deal with🤦‍♀️ -> lhughes06: personally, i see nothing wrong with a son and his dad trying to have a conversation -> peanutsdad: yeah stop hating

userthree: this is literally the cutest family ever and you can't change my mind

userfour: ahh, i bet peanut's so excited for playoffs -> peanutsmama: she can't wait! she has very little understanding of the concept, but knows it's important to her uncles and is refusing to take off her devs jersey -> userfive: omgg that's so cute 🥰 -> peanutsmama: no srsly, she's refusing to take the jersey off even though she spilt her milk. send help pls -> elblue_06: calling you right now

---

tags (bcz this pretty much turned into a regular ig edit): @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @svechnikovvv, @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots , @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila ,  @babydollmarauders ,  @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91 , @gavinbrindley, @hischierdevils , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 ,  @equallyshaw ,  @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes ,  @mitchymainer ,  @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002 , @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73 ,  @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock , @ireadthensuetheauthors , @huggy-hischier94 , @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @diary-of-jj

join peanut's world! au taglist!

[starry-hughes]

Would you be willing to write this for Luke? Ok so we know Luke is a little shy when it comes to PDA but maybe him getting handsy with the reader after a few drinks in the bar and Jack and Quinn chirp him for it? like the basic big brother teasing? (not apart of hischiers sister)

luke had one too many beers. forgetting where he was, his hands fell to your waist and his lips hovering over your ear as he whispered about wanting to go home and cuddle up with you in bed.

“watch your hands moosey! still people around!” jack chirped. luke’s face went red as he buried it into the nape of your neck, wishing he wasn’t there anymore.

luke and you soon forgot about the comment, sharing a couple of kisses in the booth you two had claimed. “alright love birds, break it up,” quinn commented. luke groaned as you pulled out your phone, ordering an uber to go home. “c’mon luke, we can go home.”

he had never been happier to leave a bar.

[hearts4hughes]

"Is that my shirt?" "You mean our shirt?" Quinn Hughes x platonic reader

Also big ups on 500 🤟🏻

nora’s 500 celly !!

-

quinn walked into the apartment. his eyes scan the front rooms, looking for his love. when his gaze isn’t met with yours, his lips fall into a frown.

“y/n?” he calls out, placing his bag down and kicking his shoes off. before you could respond, you drop the bottle of detergent, allowing a string of curses to leave your mouth.

he smiles at your clumsiness, following the sound of your frustrated huffs all the way into the bathroom. his lips curve upwards into a wide grin as he lays his eyes on you. you were perched over the sink, scrubbing what looked like one of his canucks t-shirts with an old toothbrush.

“is that my shirt?” you jump in surprise. usually you can feel quinn’s presence behind you, but you seemed to be too preoccupied to notice.

he walks behind you, moving his arms to snake around your waist. he peaked over your shoulder to see a huge coffee stain on one of his favorite shirts. you place the toothbrush down in defeat and turn around to face your boyfriend.

he opens his mouth to complain, but your finger pushes against his lips, stopping him. “you mean our shirt?” a hardy laugh escapes his lips. “i may or may not have spilt my caramel macchiato all over your shirt this morning. i also may or may not have been spending the entire day trying to get it out.”

he wants to be mad at you, but he just can’t. the look of sorry on your face is absolutely adorable. frankly, he’d let you ruin all of his shirts, if it meant he got to see you frantically cleaning with an adorable look of worry on your face. entertaining was an understatement.

“i get it if you’re mad at me. i’d be mad at me too-”

“woah, who said anything about me being mad?” he furrowed his brows. your demeanor relaxes as he spoke. you shrugged your shoulders in reply. “i’d never be mad at you for a mistake like this, lovely.”

he rested his head against your shoulder and laid soft kisses along the inside of your neck. you barked out laughter as he kisses the ticklish spot on your neck.

“i’m sorry,” you apologized. “i know it was your favorite shirt.”

“no need to apologize. i can buy hundreds of those. i’m a millionaire.” he jokes. his hot breath hits your neck as he laughs. “now let’s run this through the wash once more.” he signals to the damp, blue shirt on the bathroom counter.

[sarahsmi13s]

|| new year in new orleans ||

you're my new year's kiss, it's not a question

What’s a better way to ring in the new year than with the people you love? There isn’t.

Which is why Star and Omaha, along with the Daggers are in Louisiana with Sam and Bucky.

Sam had managed to rent a boat to fit everyone on to go out on the water for the fireworks. Not that it mattered much, they could have sat on the docks and drank - as long as they were together.

As the night ticked closer to midnight, Star proposed a toast.

“Hey, Daggers! And friends. I got something I want to say… This year has been crazy, to say the least. Coming back together after 5 years of adapting to the losses we faced and then adapting to having them back in our lives just months ago. This year, we showed the world, the universe, that no matter what it throws at us… we won’t just lay there and take it. We’re gonna fight, and we’re gonna come out there side better than ever. I’m glad this year gave me us, and next year is gonna have a hard time handling it. I love you guys, let’s kick next year’s ass.”

And as the clock hit 00:00, Star and Omaha started the new year in each others arms, and it was perfect.

i wanted to end the year by celebrating the next! and since J and S and Duckie got moodboards tied to their series, Lieutenant Rogers and Oma-Star deserved one too!

thank you to everyone that came to celebrate this milestone with me, i love y'all! and i'll be doing a big end of the year post as well and probably get a lil sappy 💜

you can find all of the moodboard for this celebration here! -> unwrap us!!

[comphy-and-cozy]

hi bae happy 500 🌺 may I request #121 with mitch marner?

thanks so much love! I am not a leafs fan so this honestly felt a little blasphemous. I really don’t know much about mitch but I think this is still a cute lil bit 🤍

finishing up my 500 followers celly

Prompt: #121 “My friends get annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes”

Pairing: Mitch Marner x Reader (f)

Word Count: 626

Warnings: Language, brief mention of cheating, some cute fluff

You’ve picked Mitch up from practice before, but today is different. Today, you walk in and feel like everyone knows a secret except you, like everyone heard the punchline of the joke and you completely missed it.

Upon seeing you, Mitch jumps up to come to your side, greeting you with a peck on your lips and a smile.

“Look out, everyone, it’s Saint Y/N,” Alex says in a mocking voice, doing a dramatic curtsy in your direction.

“Guess we’re not gonna hear from Mitchy for a few days, boys, so say your farewells now.”

“But when he does come back, all we’re gonna hear about for days is Y/N this, Y/N that,” Justin adds, then looks at you apologetically. “No offense, Y/N. You’re the shit.”

You hold your hand up with a smile. “Thank you, I think?”

Mitch rolls his eyes, letting the chirps hit him from every direction as he slips his hand in yours. “Can you shut the fuck up now?”

“He’s in love, boys, just let him be,” Mo’s voice cuts through, teasing as he sends you a wink. The love word makes you bristle slightly, a jolt of nerves coursing through your system.

“At least I’ve got a pretty girl on my arm,” Mitch finally says, like he couldn’t wait to get it out once the comeback came to him. “All you guys have is your right hand.”

A chorus of “ooooh”s mock him, his chirp doing nothing to save him from his thorough roasting. Mitch tugs your hand, flipping off the crowd of jeering boys behind him as you leave, a chorus of jeers and whipping sound effects following you out.

“You gonna tell me what all that was about?” you ask with a raised eyebrow as you approach the car.

“My friends get… annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes,” he admits bashfully, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Obviously, it’s become kind of a thing.”

“And why is that, Mitchell?” you giggle, teasing.

Mitch’s cheeks flush like he’s 14 again, embarrassed at the call out. “Well, I thought that was obvious.”

“If it is, I’m lost.”

“I, um, well, you see —” he stutters, fumbling over his words as he shifts anxiously on his heels.

“Spit it out, Marner.”

He clears his throat, willing himself to look you in the eyes. “I love you, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen in shock, not expecting Mo’s words from earlier to be even remotely true. Your relationship with Mitch had been a whirlwind up to this point, straight out of a movie, down to the spilled coffee at the coffee shop. He’s sweet, charming, holds the door open for you, sends you a good morning text every day.

But still, there’s always been part of you that’s uncertain about his commitment to you, his fame and follower count intimidating the hell out of you — not to mention his bank account. You’ve been burned before, cheated on before, and the thought of this wonderful person betraying you in the same way is almost too much to bear, fighting your feelings for him and keeping him at arm’s length — emotionally, at least.

Until now. When he’s standing in front of you, professing his love for you like a dorky, teenage boy instead of a muscular man, a professional athlete who makes more money than you can even really fathom having. He’s looking into your eyes, searching yours, and you can see the sincerity in them, hear it in his voice.

It’s also in that moment that you let the walls come tumbling down, your hidden feelings for him bursting through the seams of your heart as you lean forward to kiss him.

“I love you, too, Mitch.”