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yourusername: this week's book recommendation is Heaven by Mieko Kawakami! This is a beautifully heartbreaking fiction that follows the story of a young Japanese boy who is bullied horrifically, who receives a letter from a girl who is also being bullied, all from his perspective. The friendship that follows is so disgustingly well written, I felt like I knew the characters personally, inside & out at the end of the book. 9.3/10.
liked by fan93, fan9, friend7, cattoffoli, yoursister and 11,193 others
COMMENTS...
fan91: Listening to your review before I start it, my library has it in stock, so I knew it was destiny!!!!
yourusername: the book wanted you to read it!
cattoffoli: Interesting read! Your international book picks are always very well thought out. Excited for next week.
yourusername: !!! Your praise always means the world!!! Just ask and i'd give you a list of recommendations personally!
fan9: My niche podcaster I love u
liked by yourusername
fan1: You are the smartest person on earth maybe
yourusername: Haha only in literature & history! I know fuck all about math
yoursister: Banger can I borrow ur copy
yourusername: yes but don't dog ear my book
random93: Why TF is cat toffoli in the comments???
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yourusername: posted 9 hours ago
♫: Bigmouth Strikes Again - The Smiths
yourusername: this week's recommendation isn't a surprise, because we all know how much I adore Kafka. The book of the week is The Trial by Franz Kafka! The cruelty of the totalitarian state run by a faceless bureaucracy is Josef K's biggest enemy as he finds himself under suspicion, then under arrest and (hence the title) in trial for a crime he is being accused of without any context as to what the crime was. It was an easy pickup for me, since I already love Kafka's work, but i read it after (one of last months book recommendations) The Idiot by Dostoyevsky. No notes, should be required reading. 10/10
liked by cattoffoli, fan924, fan21, friend9, yoursister, _willsmith2 and 15,930 others
COMMENTS...
_willsmith2: Would you recommend this book as a starting point for Kafka's work? Or would The Metamorphosis be an easier read for someone who is just starting to get into his books?
yourusername: Amazing question!!! I'd say The Trial is a very easy starting point, but starting with The Metamorphosis would definitely not hurt, just because of it's length as well. Better to get familiar with his style.
fan364: Hey so WILL SMITH HOCKEY is in ur comments???
yourusername: I don't know anything about hockey!!!! sorry!!!! im unfortunately a football fan :,)
yoursister: Mom's favorite book!!!
liked by yourusername and others
fan5: OMG my favorite book I never thought you'd talk about it iloveuiloveuiloveu
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yourusername: posted 3 hours ago
♫: Champagne Supernova - Oasis
yourusername: Recommendation this week isn't a novel!!! I know!!! the horror!!!! My book of the week is Monsters by Claire Dederer! This book dissects the discomfort & awkwardness of loving what bad people do professionally &/ or create. My favorite example would be Quinn Hughes! (can you tell I'm getting into hockey, thanks @cattoffoli !!!) This book was a good read, very thought provoking! It will help you think more about your moral values as you consume media of any kind. 9.1/10
liked by cattoffoli, fan9274, mackcelebrini, _willsmith2, tofff73, fan29, friend8 and 21,910 others
COMMENTS...
fan930: Why is the entire roster of the San Jose sharks in this woman's likes LMAOOO
liked by yourusername
_willsmith2: Picked up my copy this morning. 🫡
yourusername: My man! Happy reading!
mackcelebrini: We feel very uncreative, we all started a bookclub but instead of seeking out books on our own, we all read your recommendations.
yourusername: AWWW this is so sweet! 🤍 i hope they live up to standard
fan5: Insane qh43 diss in caption....
yoursister: Good book, although, I'd say the best example is like.. idk, Morrisey?
yourusername: #andnowiknowhowjoanofarcfelt
fan938: have you read every book ever
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yourusername: posted 7 hours ago
♫: Friday I'm in Love - The Cure
yourusername: Due to you all spamming my comments asking for it, i sat down with @mackcelebrini and talked books! This week's book recommendation, due to being Mack's favorite, is The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald! Not to be overly approving of someone else's recommendation.... but this was one of my favorite books I read in highschool! The symbolism in this book comes with every page you turn, along with a look into the more controversial side of the rolling 20's. F Scott Fitzgerald was widely criticized for this work, but it is now his most well known book. 8.8/10
TAGGED: @mackcelebrini
liked by cattoffoli, mackcelebrini, _willsmith2, tofff73, friend7, fan92 and 50,927 others
COMMENTS...
_willsmith2: Straight lying, his favorite book is green eggs and ham by Dr Seuss. It's all he can read.
yourusername: He is three minutes old, be kind to him, world ❤️
liked by mackcelebrini, _willsmith2 and others
mackcelebrini: Thank you for having me! I felt like I got smarter talking to you!
yourusername: You might have !! 📚 You did so well, come back anytime!
cattoffoli: Waiting for my invite!
yourusername: Trust me, you're next!
fan93: Defo flerting
fan1: This is so cute I'm all for it, but did this mf just ask you who Sylvia Plath is???
yourusername: I'll put him on, trust me !
friend9: I'm going to start a rumor
VIEW 4,023 OTHER COMMENTS...
yourusername: posted 2 hours ago
♫: Puppy Love - Paul Anka
yourusername: a soft launch & a book recommendation! call me a woman of many talents! this week's recommendation is Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert! It's an astonishingly accurate depiction of a woman falling out of love. We follow the story of Emma Bovary as she steps out of wedlock due to boredom and delusion, but it is slowly revealed that her actions had devastating consequences. 9.4/10
liked by mackelebrini, cattoffoli, yoursister, _willsmith2, fan43 and 42,909 others
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yourusername: posted 11 hours ago
♫: Jonny - Faye Webster
yourusername: Hard launch i suppose! My first time, let me know how I did!! (get it, because you can't comment heheheh) The week's book recommendation is Beautiful Boy by David Sheff! This has to be one of my favorite books that had movie adaptations of it. It's heartbreaking, it's hopeful, it's soul crushing, it's descriptive in ways you need it to be, even if it's hard to swallow. It shows the perspective of how someone with an addict in their life is affected by their addiction, even without ever touching the drug. 10/10.
TAGGED: @mackcelebrini
liked by cattoffoli, mackcelebrini, _willsmith2, yoursister, friend7 and 67,739 others
COMMENTS...
mackcelebrini: Great book so far, almost done with your copy 🫡
yourusername: !!! give me a personal review later ;)
cattoffoli: Never once missing a recommendation, even if you get into a relationship! You're consistent as hell!!!
yourusername: A man will never top books on my list of priorities
tofff73: This book made me cry, wouldn't recommend.
yourusername: Wasn't it just so well written!! ugh crying throwing up screaming
_willsmith2: No more than one line about Mack, nonchalant god 🙏
yourusername: He holds more space in my heart than he does in my captions!
yoursister: Cutest 🤍
friend7: I was third wheeling their first date if anyone was wondering
summary: youre not slick…especially not when macklin is in your comment section. its just not in the job description.
warning: reader has a face claim, i don’t know anything about running a radio station, not proofread !
note: shameless plug for music that i like.
liked by ksufradio, user1, user3, and 776 others
youruser meet your host ! i’ll be spinning tunes every tuesday from 6-8pm, so tune into kusf radio <3 first official song of the week is ‘cemetery baby’ off of girl in a coma’s fourth album, ‘exits and all the rest’. it’s a favorite of mine and the album will eternally remind me of my momma. they’re an all girl indie rock band from texas…with word of a new album in the works :0
ksufradio welcome to the team !! cant wait to hear the bangers !
youruser can’t wait to play for you guys !
user1 she looks like she knows ball
youruser⛹️♀️
user2 excited !!!
user3 baddie radio host i WILL be tuning in
friend2 mi baby made it !
friend3 dancing in my living room !!!
youruser💃💃🎶
liked by mackcelebrini, ksufradio, user3, and 832 others
youruser song of the week is…. ‘gentle on my mind’ by glenn campbell ! this 70s country star has a claim to fame with hits like ‘southern nights’ and ‘rhinestone cowboy’, but this track is much softer and sweeter ! nothing like some good ol’ country longing to start off your tuesday !
youruser honorable mention to the roger miller version of this same song as well !
user4 living for all these recommendations
user3 do you have a playlist of all the songs you played today ? such a specific genre run and i loved it
youruser i do ! i always get so nervous playing songs that are out of the mainstream genre but soso happy people liked the broadcast today !
friend3 🤠🤠🤠
user2 macklin celebrini in the likes of an independent college radio broadcaster…
user5 i never thought id live to see the day
user12 maybe it’s a way to drive up engagement ?
user1 it’s not. i have a class with her. she’s giddy and it doesn’t seem like there was an arrangement
user7 get a load of these guys. it’s none of your business
liked by mackcelebrini, thegrinns, user3, and 845 others
youruser song of the week is ‘cynthia’ by the grinns! socal based indie pop band, with four banging albums out, they released their first album ‘golden hour’ in 2018. if you like their sound on cynthia, ride out the hype with ‘joy’ or ‘float away’ ! they’re absolutely amazing live, and i highly recommend checking them out if you ever get the chance !
thegrinns ❤️❤️
youruser !!! love you guys
user2 this is my niche….im scared. whats next…she’s gonna play rangoo ?
youruser queuing them up, i loveee ‘heart out of control’ <3
user4 is this technically three songs of the week ?
mackcelebrini 🔥🔥
youruser sending a recommendation playlist your way 👀
user5 no wayyy.
friend2 shooting her shot in the public comments smh
youruser please shut up
friend3 blessing us with your music
youruser i do what i can to make yall cool
liked by mackcelebrini, friend3, friend4, and 876 others
youruser song of the week is ‘sea of love’ by cat power ! singer chan marshall was born in georgia, and draws from influences like blues, soul, and good ol’ rock and roll. another song that reminds me of momma and sounds to me like meeting for coffee and new beginnings :)
friend1 i spy with my little eye shoes i do not recognize
youruser 😐😐
friend2 i need your location asap
youruser you already have me on life360 😾
friend2 i don’t like your attitude
friend3 who is this
friend3 where do they live
friend3 social security number
youruser jfc i might as well give you his credit card number too…
user3 her friends are so funny
mackcelebrini ☕️ thanks for the cd !
youruser anytime ;))
friend2 oh.
liked by mackcelebrini, friend2, friend3 and 899 others
youruser song of the week is ‘these days’ by dr dog !! my go to road trip song no matter where i’m going or who im going with. if you tune into kusf you won’t hear from me next tuesday as i’ll be in canada (hooray!) but i’ll be back the week after, spinning all the tunes you know and love !
friend1 miss you already 😿
youruser sitting in your dorm posting this🙄
mackcelebrini 🇨🇦🇨🇦
youruser poutine fries are calling my name…
user3 have fun and take pictures !!
user4 anyone else putting two and two together with this canada trip…?
kusfradio we’ll miss your tunes :(
youruser i’ll be back soon !
friend2 take lots of pictures !
youruser 📸📸
liked by friend1, mackcelebrini, friend3, and 954 others
youruser song of the week is…..‘easy girl’ by coconut records ! if you didn’t know, this is an “indie pop solo project” by jason schwartzman ! tap in wes anderson-heads :p moonrise kingdom was on repeat at my house…but fantastic mr fox will always be my favorite movie ever !
friend1 call it love song of the week atp
youruser should i ??? 🥸🥸
friend1 no
mackcelebrini i like this one !
youruser putting you on !! 😁
user2 soft launch on the radio account is killing me
user4 i am connecting dots no one even thought about…
friend3 banger songs banger movies
youruser always !!
liked by mackcelebrini, friend1, friend2, and 998 others
youruser it’s friday i’m in love ! today’s song of the week is ‘each and everyday’ by best coast ! if you liked girl in a coma you’ll love best coast…an indie rock duo from good ol’ los angeles. while currently on hiatus you might know them from the song ‘go away’, done in collaboration with weezer. and as you may have guessed….it’s hard launch season! this song reminds me of summer and now that the days are getting warmer i’ll share it with you all !
user4 oh that’s a macklin…
youruser it is !
friend1 babe…it’s tuesday
youruser i know that silly !
mackcelebrini love this song. and love you
youruser love you more !
youruser putting this song on your mixtape 💋
friend2 so stinking cute
youruser😼😼😽
user2 relationship or not…mama provides with the bangers !
There’s nothing you love on this earth more than hockey cards, and maybe your boyfriend. The best alternative? Hockey cards of your boyfriend.
You’ve been collected for years, even pocketing cards that your siblings or parents had randomly given you, making up for quite a collection. Macklin had a couple random cards he’d gotten of himself from partnerships and sponsorships, so he gave you what he had- you loved them more than he ever could.
It warmed his heart to see how happy you’d get when he’d bring you a card; you’d kiss him and run off to store it properly, especially if it was a card you wants to display in a binder.
But, there was one card that you adored more than any Macklin card. As a birthday present , your dad had managed to snatch up a limited edition Sidney Crosby card featuring his golden goal at the 2010 olympics for you. You cherished the card so much that even when you moved in with Macklin, you packed it safely in your purse to make sure it didn’t get lost.
You had the card on full display in your living room, sitting beside a jumble of family pictures and memorabilia like Crosby was your personal family friend or something.
“Wow,” he whistled one day while he watched you dust off the frames and card as part of your weekly maintenance. “There’s no card of me, but one of him?”
You turned and punched his chest as he was leaning over your shoulder to give you a face full of hair.
“My Sid card is special,” you responded with a huff.
Macklin raised a brow at the card and chuckled. “Sid? Babe, you don't know him."
You rolled your eyes dramatically and hugged the card to your chest. "No thanks to you. Plus, he's THE Sidney Crosby, so it's basically like I already know him."
Macklin slung a heavy arm around your shoulder and clung to you as usual as you observed the card like you'd never seen it before. He knew damn well you had every stat and bio on that card memorized, but it still amused him to see your eyes filled with adoration and love.
A couple months later, Crosby invited Macklin to train with him up in Canada for a bit. Even though he should've been accustomed to this kind of treatment by now, Macklin still squealed when he got the invite. He showed you his phone with the message from Sidney and you practically tackled him to get a look at the phone.
"Sidney Crosby just messaged you," you said in shock, breath heavy as you read the text. "Sidney Crosby just messaged us."
"What are you so excited about," your boyfriend sneered. "He's like old enough to be your dad."
"Someone's jealous," you responded flatly before tapping his shoulder excessively. "Quick! Respond before he asks someone else."
Macklin started typing out his response but before he could press send, he chewed his lip a bit and side eyed you.
"What if he thinks I'm desperate?" he started at you with blank eyes.
You ran a hand across your face and groaned. "Mack, it's Sidney Crosby! Not your talking stage, for god's sake! Answer the man!"
He nodded violently and sent the acceptance message, then he threw the phone across the coach and you both shrieked in unison.
Later on, Macklin left to train with Sidney after the summer break started. Even though you weren't the one training with Crosby, obviously, you were still buzzing at the fact that your boyfriend was going to train with the player that has been your favorite for years.
Macklin was only going to be out for a week, but still doted over you like he was leaving forever.
"Drink water," he pointed at you as you walked him to his gate at the airport.
"Duh."
"I changed the cat's litter already but he may need more food tomorrow."
"Okay."
"I left some cash on the counter in case of anything."
"Thanks."
"Use it for food or something- remember to eat."
"Macklin!" You grabbed his hand to pull him to face you. "Relax. You know I lived before we started dating right?"
He rolled his eyes. "Fine. God forbid I try to be a good boyfriend."
You tilted your head with a smile and patted the side of his head. "Well, go be an even better hockey player."
After a couple days, you went about your usual routine. Everyday you and Macklin called, and one day, after hanging up on him you went to go dust your pictures and your card. You halted- the card was gone.
You rushed over, thinking that maybe your cat had hit it or it somehow tumbled under the table, but it was no where to be found. You backtracked the last time you'd seen it: Saturday, before you and Macklin left to go to the airport. Macklin...
You scrambled for your phone and called Macklin, who of course, never answered when you actually needed him. You ran a hand through your hair as you pondered. Well, maybe someone that had visited you had something to do with it. You called your sibling, who'd visited the day before and pounded them for your card- nothing.
A couple hours later, Macklin called you back, his tone natural and bright like nothing was wrong.
"Did you take it?" you said stiffly, chewing your lip as you awaited his answer.
"Did I take what, babe?" he responded, his tone still calm. Macklin was a horrible liar, so maybe he actually didn't have it.
"The card, Macklin. My Crosby card is missing," you explained as you bit your nails.
Macklin responded after a second, his tone sincere as he spoke with shock. "What? No, y/n, I wouldn't take it. I know how much it means to you. Your sibling visited yesterday, maybe he took it as a joke."
You shook your head. "I called and they said they didn't. Mack, it's gone. I can't find it."
"Look, it couldn't have gotten up and walked outta the house, sweetheart. I'll be back in a few days to help you look too. We'll find it, don't worry about it."
His voice eased your nerves a bit, with reasoning that calmed your brain.
"Alright, you nodded to yourself and rubbed your eyes. "I'm going to bed."
"Goodnight, babe. Seriously, don't worry, we'll find your card."
Days passed and you never found the card, even after searching your place from top to bottom. The day you had to pick up Macklin at the airport, you still hadn't found it. Dejected at losing such a personal gift, you drove to the airport to pick up your boyfriend. He greeted you with a large hug, encapsulating you with such joy that you couldn't suppress the smile bubbling up on your lips.
As you walked back to the car, you pressed him for details on his week training with such prominent hockey stars. When he slide into the drivers seat, after insisting that you let him drive, he suddenly turned to you with a stoic face, making your face drop.
"Mack," you said warningly. "What is it?"
He pressed his lips into a thin line and avoided your eyes. "I have to tell you something."
"Macklin..."
"Stay calm, babe." he continued and reached into his pocket.
Your Sidney Crosby card, cradled in his large hand like a discovered treasure.
"MACKLIN!" you screamed and snatched the card.
He raised his hands in surrender and backed as far away as a possible as he could get in your little car. "Look at it!"
"What the fuck?" You hugged it to your chest. "Why would you take it?"
"Look at it," he repeated calmly and gestured to the card. "The front of the card."
You narrowed your eyes at him and slowly pulled it away from your chest. While it was in its usual multiple layers of protection, it was changed. Sidney Crosby's undeniable signature was scribbled on the front of the card, shining in all its glory.
"Holy shit," your mouth gaped open as you observed the card. After all your years of collecting, you'd never gotten a signed card (besides a signed Macklin card, of course), let alone by a player you adored so much.
"I wanted to surprise you," he smiled as he scratched the back of his neck. "I was dumb enough to think that you wouldn't realize it was missing so early. I'm sorry for lying, babe."
You turned to him slowly and responded with a kiss to his cheek. "This is the only situation where I wouldn't tackle you for stealing my card."
"Noted," he responded with a chuckle and pulled out his wallet.
"Money?" you said in confusion.
"Better," Macklin shrugged and pulled a couple cards out of a pocket. "These are signed by some of the other guys that were there. They're just normal cards that I found of eBay, but I assumed you'd appreciate."
You squealed and tackled him with a hug.
"Oh my god, I love you," you said into him before retreating to obsess over the cards.
He smiled at you and started driving home, overjoyed at the fact that his beloved girlfriend didn't outright murder him.
the one where y/n laurier and will smith spoke back in college. it was a constant on and off, a constant back and fourth of feelings neither wanted to admit out of pure fear. eventually, the two couldn’t handle their feelings, and will said he was too focused on hockey to be with her. y/n blew up as pop musics new it girl, and will is the san jose sharks golden boy. and now? now she has a way of subtweeting the shark through her music.
chapters ⋆.𐙚 ̊
backstory, part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten, part eleven, part twelve (1), part twelve (2), part thirteen.
playlists ݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆
hurt my feelings soundtrack, hurt my feelings, the album
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
the one where y/n toffoli has to pack up her life in new jersey and move to california due to her dads trade. macklin celebrini is the projected #1 draft pick. life has a funny way of working sometimes.
an / guys it’s the last part ☹️☹️ i have a new smau coming out w a lot more detail and a whole bunch of parts, so be on the lookout for that! thank you so so so much for all the love on something blue, and i hope that you guys don’t feel like i cheaped out on this part cause lowkey i kinda did… oopsies im sorry, i didnt know how to end it!! little time jump too, btw! part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
yntoffoli
liked by mackcelebrini, tofff73 and 20.7k others
yntoffoli happy one year to my favorite boy ever!!! you’re my everything, my life, the reason i wake up every morning and continue doing what i do. i can’t thank you enough for being here for me through everything, for building a new life with me in san jose despite balancing your career, a new chapter and being the best damn player the nhl has ever seen. i love you, i love being loved by you but most of all i’ve loved falling in love with you. you’ve given me the opportunity of a life time to love you, and i’ll forever be so grateful. enter celebrini, 19 or whatever my father in law said!!!
march 2nd, 2026
view all 232 comments
friend1 mama e papa
friend2 love u forever, im so happy u found ur person 🤍
friend3 so so so happy for u gorgeous girl
friend4 that #1 draft pick was pretty cool after all huh
→ yntoffoli @friend4 the coolest boy in all the land
mackcelebrini My gorgeous girl 🤍
→ yntoffoli @mackcelebrini i love you <3
_willsmith2 Stealing my man AGAIN
tofff73 Break his heart and I’ll kill you
→ yntoffoli @tofff73 who’s dad r u again?
mackcelebrini
liked by yntoffoli, _willsmith2 and 456.7k others
mackcelebrini 365 with you ❤️
march 2nd, 2026
view all 326 comments
fan1 we lost him boys
fan2 i’m so obsessed with you two i could cry
fan3 i’ve been here since she commented under his draft post omg
SUMMARY : While packing up their apartment for a new chapter, Will finds an old photograph from the night he met Y/N and finally confesses that he knew from the very beginning that she would become his wife.
WC: 1.9k
WARNINGS: Fluff, established relationship, marriage, moving-related emotions, brief mentions of trades and career uncertainty.
Request: will smith + i knew i was goint to marry you the day we met
Will had always been terrible at keeping secrets from you.
It didn’t matter whether it was a birthday present hidden in the back of the closet or a surprise dinner reservation he had made weeks in advance. The moment you looked at him for longer than a few seconds, his smile would become suspiciously wide, his cheeks would turn pink, and whatever he was hiding would come spilling out.
But somehow, he had kept this one to himself for years.
You were sitting on the floor of your shared apartment, surrounded by half-packed cardboard boxes and pieces of your life scattered across the living room. Will had been traded a few weeks earlier, and although you had both known that moving was always a possibility, it still felt strange to see your home disappearing one box at a time.
Your books had been packed away. His collection of hoodies had been reduced to the three he refused to put in a suitcase. Framed photographs had been taken off the walls, leaving pale rectangles behind where the sunlight hadn’t reached.
Will sat beside you with his back against the couch, turning an old photograph between his fingers.
You leaned closer, immediately recognizing it “Oh my God.” Will laughed quietly. “I forgot we had this.”
It had been taken the night you met.
You were standing beside him at a crowded college party, your expression caught somewhere between amused and irritated while Will smiled at the camera like he had just won something. His arm wasn’t quite around you, but his hand hovered close to your waist, as if even then he had been looking for an excuse to touch you “You spilled your drink on me five minutes before that picture,” you reminded him.
“You bumped into me.”
“You walked backwards without looking.”
“Because I was talking to you.”
“You weren’t talking to me. You were trying to impress me.”
Will’s mouth lifted into a grin. “Did it work?” You looked at the photograph again “No.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“You told me you played hockey.”
“I did play hockey.”
“You said it like you expected me to be impressed.”
“I was eighteen.”
“You were unbearable.”
“And yet, you gave me your number.” You rested your head against his shoulder. “You followed me around for almost an hour.”
“I was being persistent.”
“You were being annoying.”
“You liked me.”
“I tolerated you.”
Will turned his head and pressed a kiss against your hair “You smiled every time I talked to you.”
“I was laughing at you.”
“You still do that.”
“Because you’re still ridiculous.”
His laughter vibrated through his chest beneath your cheek. For a moment, the apartment didn’t feel empty or temporary. It still felt like home because he was sitting beside you.
Will placed the photograph carefully on top of the open box in front of him “I knew I was going to marry you the day we met.” you lifted your head so quickly that you nearly knocked your forehead against his chin “What?”
His smile softened, but there wasn’t any embarrassment in his expression. No teasing glint in his eyes. He looked completely serious “I knew I was going to marry you the day we met,” he repeated.
You stared at him “Will, you asked me what my name was three times.”
“The music was loud.”
“You called me the wrong name the second time.”
“I was nervous.”
“You tried to convince me that you knew how to dance.”
“I do know how to dance.”
“You almost knocked over a lamp.”
“That lamp was badly placed.” A laugh escaped you, but Will continued looking at you with that same quiet certainty “I’m serious,” he said, your smile slowly faded into something softer “How could you possibly know that?”
Will looked down at the photograph again.
He was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. It was rare for him to struggle with words around you. Usually, he could talk his way through anything, filling silence with jokes and rambling explanations until you forgot what the original conversation had been about.
But this time, he chose each word carefully “I didn’t know anything about you,” he admitted. “I didn’t know what your favorite food was or what kind of music you listened to. I didn’t know that you cried during every dog movie or that you hated when people left cabinet doors open.”
“You still leave them open.”
“I’m working on it.”
“You’ve been working on it for years.”
Will smiled briefly before continuing “I didn’t know that you would become my best friend. I didn’t know you would be there for every bad game, every injury, every move, every time I doubted myself.” His fingers found yours, intertwining them. “But I looked at you that night and thought, there you are.”
Your chest tightened, Will rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand “It felt like I had been waiting for you without realizing I was waiting for anyone.”
You blinked rapidly, suddenly grateful that most of the apartment had already been packed and there were no mirrors nearby to show you how emotional you looked “You never told me that.”
“I didn’t want you to think I was crazy.”
“I already think you’re crazy.”
“Exactly. I didn’t need to give you more evidence.” You laughed, wiping beneath your eye with your free hand, Will shifted closer, his knee pressing against yours “I remember going home that night and telling my roommate that I had met the girl I was going to marry.”
Your eyes widened. “You did not.”
“I did.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me I had known you for two hours.”
“He had a point.”
“I told him it didn’t matter.” You searched his face, waiting for him to laugh and admit that he was exaggerating. But Will only watched you with that familiar tenderness that still made your stomach flutter, no matter how many years you had been together “And then what?” you asked quietly.
“And then I spent the next six months trying to convince you to date me.”
“It was not six months.”
“It felt like six months.”
“It was three weeks.”
“Longest three weeks of my life.”
“You were seeing someone else when we met.”
“I stopped talking to her the next morning.”
You stared at him again “What?” Will’s expression changed immediately “Wait. You didn’t know that?”
“No.”
“I thought I told you.”
“You absolutely did not.”
He rubbed the back of his neck “Well, there wasn’t much to tell, we had gone out twice. It wasn’t serious.”
“But you stopped seeing her because of me?”
Will looked almost confused by the question “Of course.”
“After knowing me for one night?”
“I told you. I knew.” Your heart felt painfully full, the move had been stressful. There had been contracts, meetings, phone calls, rushed decisions, and quiet conversations late at night about whether you were truly prepared to start over somewhere new.
You had never doubted that you would go with him.
Still, you had worried about leaving the life you had built together. The familiar coffee shop downstairs, your favorite grocery store, the friends who lived only a few minutes away. The apartment where Will had first asked you to move in with him. The kitchen where he had proposed while dinner burned in the oven because he had been too nervous to remember the timer.
But looking at him now, you understood something you should have known all along, home had never been the apartment, it had always been Will “You really knew?” you whispered, he nodded
“Immediately?”
“Immediately.”
“You didn’t even know whether I liked you.”
“I knew you would eventually.” you shoved his shoulder lightly. “That confidence almost ruined everything.”
“But it didn’t.”
“Barely.” Will caught your wrist before you could pull away and brought your hand to his mouth, kissing the ring on your finger, his ring, the one he had chosen after weeks of secretly asking your friends for advice. The one he had nearly dropped behind the stove during his proposal. The one that still made him smile whenever he saw it on your hand “I would’ve waited,” he said.
“For how long?”
“As long as it took.” your throat tightened again, Will’s eyes moved around the nearly empty apartment “You know I’m sorry about all this.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“I know you loved it here.”
“I did.”
“And you’re leaving your job and your friends and everything that’s familiar because of me.” You shifted until you were facing him fully “I’m not leaving everything because of you,” you said. “I’m going somewhere new with you.”
“That’s different?”
“Completely.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly, you cupped his face between your hands, smiling when his cheeks squished beneath your palms “I knew too.”
Will blinked “You knew what?"
“That I was going to marry you.”
His eyebrows lifted. “The day we met?”
“No.” His smile dropped dramatically, you laughed. “Will.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. Maybe our third date.”
“Third?”
“You ate my fries without asking.”
“That made you want to marry me?”
“No. You ordered another plate because you realized I was annoyed, and then you pretended you had wanted them for yourself so I wouldn’t feel bad.”
Will’s expression softened “You remember that?”
“I remember everything.”
His hands settled on your waist, “So technically, I knew first.”
“You always have to win, don’t you?”
“It’s not my fault I recognized my future wife before she recognized her future husband.”
“You were still calling me the wrong name.”
“One time.”
“Twice.”
“The first one doesn’t count. The music was loud.” you leaned forward until your forehead rested against his “You’re impossible.”
“And you married me anyway.”
“I did.” Will kissed you slowly, one hand sliding to the back of your neck. The apartment around you might have been empty, but the kiss held every year you had spent filling it.
Every late-night dinner, every argument and apology, every celebration after a win and every quiet drive home after a loss, every version of yourselves that had existed between the night you met and the life you had now.
When you pulled away, Will kept you close “You know,” he murmured, “our new place has a bigger kitchen.”
“Are you planning another proposal?”
“No. I already got the answer I wanted.”
“You could try again. Maybe I’ll say no this time.”
Will tightened his arms around you “Too late. You’re stuck with me.”
You smiled against his mouth “Good.” across the room, the photograph remained on top of the box, showing two young strangers who had no idea how much their lives were about to change, or perhaps only one of them had no idea.
SUMMARY: A lazy morning turns into a playful battle when Y/N tries to get out of bed for brunch plans, but Will has other ideas. Determined to keep her wrapped up in his arms for “just five more minutes,” he does everything he can to convince her that staying in bed together is a much better plan.
WC: 1k
WARNINGS: Fluff, established relationship, domestic bliss, cuddling, sleepy Will Smith, teasing, kissing, light humor, lovesick behavior, tooth-rotting sweetness.
Request: Will smith + come back to bed. five more minutes
Will had always been impossible to wake up.
It didn’t matter if he had gone to bed at nine or two in the morning, if he had practice or an entire free day ahead of him—once he was comfortable, it took every ounce of strength he had to leave the warmth of the bed.
Usually, you found it endearing.
Today, however, you were supposed to be at brunch with some of his teammates and their girlfriends in less than an hour, and Will was currently wrapped around you like a human blanket.
His arm was heavy across your waist, one leg tangled between yours, his face buried against the back of your neck. Every slow breath tickled your skin, making it increasingly difficult to remember why getting up was so important.
You carefully lifted his wrist and tried to slide out from beneath him, Will immediately tightened his hold “Where are you going?” he mumbled, his voice rough and thick with sleep.
“To get ready.”
“No.”
You smiled despite yourself. “We have brunch.”
“Cancel it.”
“We can’t cancel. You’re the one who made the plans.”
“I was young and stupid when I made those plans.”
“You made them yesterday.”
“Exactly.”
You managed to free one leg and place your foot on the floor, but before you could stand, Will hooked an arm around your middle and pulled you backward, a surprised laugh escaped you as you landed against his chest.
“Will!”
“Come back to bed,” he murmured, pressing a lazy kiss against your shoulder. “Five more minutes.”
“You always say five more minutes.”
“And I always mean it.”
“You mean thirty.”
“Sometimes forty-five.”
You turned in his arms, finding his eyes still closed and his hair sticking up in every possible direction. He looked unfairly soft like this, without the usual energy and confidence he carried everywhere else, you brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead “We’re going to be late.”
“They expect that from me.”
“They don’t expect it from me.”
Will finally opened one eye, looking at you with the smallest sleepy smile “You’re dating me. They’ve adjusted their expectations.” you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re a terrible influence.”
“Maybe.”
His hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, resting warmly against your waist. There was nothing suggestive about it. He simply seemed to need the reassurance that you were still there.
That was what always made it difficult to leave him.
Will was affectionate at the best of times, constantly reaching for your hand or resting his chin on your shoulder. But in the mornings, when he was still halfway asleep, he became especially clingy. There was no embarrassment or hesitation. He loved you, and he wanted you close.
Simple as that “You know,” you whispered, “most adults can get out of bed without emotional support.”
“I’m not most adults.”
“You’re barely an adult.”
“That sounds like something someone older than me would say.”
“I’m six months older than you.”
“Ancient.” you lightly pushed his shoulder, but he only laughed and pulled you closer until your face was tucked beneath his chin.
“Five minutes,” he repeated.
You glanced toward the clock on the nightstand “We genuinely only have five minutes.”
“Perfect.”
“And then you’re getting up.”
“Absolutely.”
“You promise?”
Will hummed, already drifting back toward sleep, you narrowed your eyes. “Will.”
“I promise,” he mumbled.
You relaxed against him, letting your eyes close again. His fingers traced slow, absentminded circles along your side, and his heartbeat was steady beneath your cheek.
For a moment, the plans didn’t matter, the messages already waiting on your phone didn’t matter.
There was only the quiet bedroom, the pale morning light slipping through the curtains and Will holding you like there was nowhere else he would rather be.
Exactly five minutes later, your alarm sounded, Will groaned and buried his face deeper into the pillow, you reached over him to silence it. “Time to get up.”
“No.”
“You promised.”
“I was asleep. That promise isn’t legally binding.”
You laughed as you sat up, pulling the blanket away from him, Will stared at you in betrayal “That’s cruel.”
“Get dressed.”
He caught your hand before you could step away and pressed a kiss to your knuckles “What if we stay here and order pancakes?”
“We’re meeting everyone for pancakes.”
“But these would be private pancakes.”
“Private pancakes?”
“Yeah.” His smile became more persuasive as he tugged you closer. “No teammates stealing food off my plate. No one making fun of me because you cut my pancakes for me.”
“I did that once.”
“And it was the happiest day of my life.”
“That’s dramatic.”
“I’m serious.” you leaned down and kissed him, intending for it to be quick. Will immediately placed a hand behind your neck, keeping you there for several seconds longer. When you pulled away, he was smiling triumphantly “You wasted two minutes,” you told him.
“Worth it.”
You pointed toward the bathroom. “Go.”
Will finally pushed himself upright, his hair somehow looking even worse than before. He wrapped his arms around your waist one last time, resting his forehead against your stomach “You’re coming back to bed with me after brunch.”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you get ready without complaining.”
He looked up at you “That seems unreasonable.”
“Then no post-brunch nap.”
Will stood immediately “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
You watched him hurry toward the bathroom and shook your head, laughing quietly “Five more minutes,” you called after him.
His head appeared around the doorway “Don’t joke about things like that.”
And despite all his complaining, twelve minutes later, Will was dressed and waiting by the door—mostly because you had promised he could spend the entire afternoon wrapped around you again.
HE’S AN EAST COAST, JEANS ROLLED, NO COMMUNICATION. SHE’S A WELCOME SIGN. ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ
summary: in which… hockey captain will smith and you seem like a crazy match, mainly because you’re his best friend’s ex—but he proves everyone wrong by being the perfect guy for you OR the 3 times everybody was confused about you and will + the one time he finally shut them up about it
warnings: suggestive + cursing
♡ author’s note: hellooo ppl! new will smith au time 🤭 this has been in my drafts for soo long but college has had your girl busy & i finally had time to finish it!! please please send in any ideas or just some thoughts on how you feel about this au but this is one of the installments of it so far!
1. It was the third week after your very public and humiliating breakup with your ex boyfriend, Macklin. Word had traveled like wildfire—Mack, the hockey egomaniac and prodigy of your college, had told you right in the middle of your dining hall meal that he needed to focus on hockey and less on… you.
You had disappeared for a while after that, keeping your head low with the help of your sorority sisters who made sure you were still eating and well… functioning.
So when you came messy haired into the dining hall with Will Smiths’ hockey hoodie on out of all hoodies you could’ve picked, all heads turned. You sat down with your tray, unbothered, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands.
Will slid into the seat beside you, sleep in his eyes, hair still damp from morning skate. He handed you a cup of orange juice without asking. You smiled.
Two tables over, a girl leaned into her friend. “Is that seriously Will Smith? The hockey kid?”
“I thought she’d sworn off hockey guys entirely after Macklin.”
They were whispering as if you weren’t right there. But it didn’t matter, because you were too sleep deprived to care as the girls continued to chatter on.
“I don’t get it. He’s like… hot, captain and all that but he’s on the same team as Macklin, that’s gotta be weird, right? Also, he kind of looks like he’s always just a bit confused about what’s going on.”
Will glanced over. Raised an eyebrow. You almost died laughing into your eggs.
“Uh—I can hear you,” he called.
The girls went red. One of them whispered, “What did she see in him?”
You reached across the table, picked a crumb off his cheek, and popped it into your mouth.
“You said it yourself. He’s hot.” you said simply.
Will flushed to the tips of his ears.
2. The two of you found yourself at a joint party, where it was loud and weirdly sticky. It also reeked of vodka and the smell of cigarettes.
You were tipsy, and although you usually didn’t drink because of the hangover the next day, Will was very charming in convincing you to take a few shots. He obviously was wasted. And, in his defense, it was your fault he was kissing you against the hallway wall like he forgot other people existed.
You giggled into his mouth. “Will, someone’s gonna see—”
“I want them to,” he mumbled, hands on your hips, voice low and slurred and sweet. “They should know who you’re going home with.”
Two girls stepped out at that exact moment and froze. One clutched her bag close to her side. “Is that—?”
“Oh my God, it’s her. With Will. Smitty.”
“I thought she was still recovering from Mack?”
“Nope. She’s out here healing with another hockey boy.”
Will finally noticed them. Looked up. Smiled. “Hey,” he slurred. “That’s my girlfriend.”
You shush him. “Will.”
The issue was—he didn’t exactly ask you to be his official girlfriend just yet. And he couldn’t. Despite most people on campus catching onto you and Will, Macklin was none the wiser. It kind of had a lot to do with how everybody was self aware and Macklin was lack of, and how he really meant it when he told you he just wanted to focus on hockey.
He didn’t even have time to realize that you were seeing his best friend.
“No, no, let me have this moment.” He grinned at the girls. “She likes me. On purpose.”
They both stared. “Good for you Smitty.” The taller one of the two says. “Heard she was a keeper.”
3. Although Will was his close friend, Gabe didn’t exactly see what you saw in him.
He walked to his car after a long day of skating practice, and funny enough, he had parked right next to Will’s car.
He was just going to scare the boy by loudly knocking on his window until his eyes focused on you, who was curled up in Will’s passenger seat, sipping a matcha with both hands while he argued with the CarPlay that wasn’t connecting.
“Perreault!” You say excitedly, rolling down your window. “Come with us for dinner?”
He should’ve said no. He had a lot—and by a lot—it was at least 7 pages of literature homework to get through. But he wanted to see how the two of you worked in action.
“Jesus,” Gabe said later that night, watching you giggle as Will tried to parallel park and failed three times. “At least she’s not with Mack anymore.”
When Will finally drops you off home that night, he gets out of his car and walks you to your dorm, making sure you’re all cozied in before retrieving back to his car.
This makes Gabe smirk, and Will notices right away, eyes already ready to roll.
“Shut up,” Will muttered, cheeks red. “We’re just hanging out.”
But “just hanging out” didn’t explain the way Will remembered your matcha order down to the oat milk ratio. Or the way you wore his hoodie to the dining hall and Econ like it belonged to you now. Or the way Will’s voice softened, every damn time he said your name.
You two weren’t supposed to make sense.
You were Friday night by the sea with a movie playing on a projector. Tea at 4pm with a book in hand. A girl who journaled her feelings and told people thank you with eye contact.
Will was a commitment issues on legs—except to hockey—God, what was it with hockey boys and their commitment issues to everything but their sport?
He missed dinners, skipped hockey meetings, and hated obligation like it was contagious.
You two weren’t supposed to fit. He was your ex boyfriend’s best friend, teammate, the guy who skated with him since the start of college. It just didn’t make sense how you two could even fit.
But you did. And that confused Gabe more than ever.
But Will’s his close friend, and over the past few months of sitting with you in Econ, you were starting to become one of Gabe’s friends as well. When you were with Mack, you barely interacted with any of the hockey guys.
To them, you were just someone who was in the passing. You’d come to their practices, obviously, but you were reduced to someone who was just in Macklin’s world.
So the two of you were happy, which it sure as hell looked like it, Gabe was happy for you.
+ 1 The next party was supposed to be chill.
It wasn’t hosted by Signu, thank God. It was just some house off campus, filled with some of the hockey guys and a really good playlist on for once. You were having a good night—wearing a black mini skirt with a short top, sipping a strawberry seltzer, and laughing at something Gabe said about the freshman who tried to body slam him into the boards.
Will was close by. Always close. Arm around your waist, chin brushing your temple when he leaned in to make some snarky comment. Every time he laughed, it rumbled against your back. You were warm and buzzed and exactly where you wanted to be.
Until she showed up. You didn’t know her name. But the moment Will stiffened beside you, shoulders tight and mouth in a line, you knew she was someone from the past. His past.
“Will,” the girl practically whined as she approached, red cup dangling from her hand. She was tall, tanned, and clearly drunk.
You stepped slightly aside, but Will didn’t let go of your waist. If anything, he held you tighter.
“Ava.” Will says, clearly already over the conversation.
“Oh wow,” the girl, who you now know as Ava, steps right in front of him and glances at you like you were some inconvenient barrier to her night. “You’re still with her? Like actually, with her?”
Will blinked once. “Yeah. I am.”
She scoffed. “Seriously? What happened to you?”
You raised an eyebrow. Will didn’t say anything. But his grip didn’t loosen.
Ava takes a sip from her cup. “You used to be fun. Like… remember that night welcome week of freshman year? In the upstairs bathroom at Dickinson’s thing?” She leaned in, eyes twitching. “I don’t remember you being into the whole soft boyfriend thing.”
You opened your mouth, stunned. But then she said it. Loud enough for you, and everyone nearby, to hear.
“What? Is she friends with all your hockey buddies or something? I know she was Mack’s ex, that’s gotta mean something if she can get both him and you, huh? Easygoing like how you like them? Or does she give really good head?”
The silence was immediate. You froze. So did Gabe, whose jaw was practically on the floor by now. And cruelly enough, the music too for a second, as someone tripped over the aux cord—Dickinson, too gagged by your conversation—didn’t chew the person out right away.
“Say that again.”
Ava blinked. Eyes starting to water in frustration. “What?”
Will stepped forward. “You think it’s funny disrespecting her like that?” he said, voice low, steady. “You think now that you’re in some fucking low tier sorority that you get to talk about her like she’s a joke?”
Ava’s breath hitches.
“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Will went on, “So if you’re bitter, if you’re mad I moved on from your drunk ass and actually found someone who matters—go scream into a pillow or something. But don’t talk to her that way.”
Ava stares at him, stunned.
“I don’t go about things like that,” he said, louder now. “I don’t hook up behind backs and I don’t keep people around to use when I’m bored. You and me? That was a mistake, and I’m sorry that you were under the impression that it was otherwise.”
Ava’s crying by now, her drunken rambles from earlier now gone as she sobered up right in front of you from Will’s words. You almost feel bad because she got humiliated right in front of the whole hockey team and some more, but you then remember what she had just said about you.
“You’re a jackass, Will.” She cries, storming off into the backyard.
Will’s chest is heaving, and you can tell he’s stressed out by the way his hands shake and his eyes are darting back and forth between you and where Ava just stormed off.
“Hey,” you say, pulling him upstairs. Gabe gives you a nod, as if he was thanking you for being there for his friend in such a weird moment like this.
“Breathe.” You place your hand on his chest, your other hand comes to hold his shaking one, and he finally lets out a deep exhale.
“Sorry.” He says.
“No.” You shake your head. “Why would you be sorry?”
“I usually don’t do that.” He says.
“I know.” Your voice is so soft it makes Will want to cry. You’re just so sweet, too sweet, and it makes Will feel horrible that people like Mack and Ava treated you so badly.
“Thank you for defending my honor.” You joke. “Even if she was right about some things.”
“Nah,” he finally smiles, the same smile you grew to love each time you saw it on Will’s face. “Maybe one. The really good head one.”
You elbow him in the side, making blonde boy groan out in pain.
“Sorry, sorry.” He says, throwing his hands out in surrender.
“You’re lucky I like you, Smitty.” You smile, closing the gap between you and him.
SUMMARY: You had spent your entire life believing Mathew Barzal belonged with someone more beautiful, more confident, and more suited to his world. Mat had spent his entire life wondering how you could possibly fail to notice that he had always chosen you.
WC: 4.4k
WARNINGS: Insecurity, negative body image, self-deprecating thoughts, class differences, mentions of online criticism, emotional confession, childhood best friends to lovers, fluff.
Requested: Mathew Barzal + Childhood friends to lovers
You had known Mathew for so long that you couldn’t remember meeting him.
There was no clear beginning to your friendship. No first introduction preserved in either of your memories. There had simply always been Mat.
Mat stealing pieces of fruit from your lunchbox during elementary school, Mat waiting outside your house with his bicycle discarded carelessly on your lawn, Mat convincing you to sit through hours of hockey practice because he promised to buy you hot chocolate afterward, Mat calling you from tournaments when he was supposed to be sleeping, whispering into the phone so his teammates wouldn’t hear him admit that he missed home.
You had been there before the packed arenas and screaming fans. Before the expensive suits, endorsement deals, magazine covers, and verified social media accounts. Before strangers began behaving as though they knew him because they watched him play hockey a few nights each week.
To you, he was still the boy who had broken your mother’s kitchen window while attempting to prove he could hit a tennis ball farther than you.
He was still the teenager who had shown up at your house after being drafted, clutching his new jersey in trembling hands because the magnitude of his dream coming true had finally overwhelmed him.
He was still your best friend.
And that was precisely why you had never allowed yourself to believe he could become anything more.
Mat’s arm was stretched along the back of your couch as he watched you move around your tiny apartment kitchen “You’re avoiding me,” he announced.
You didn’t turn around. “I’m making pasta.”
“You’ve been making pasta for forty minutes.”
“The sauce requires patience.”
“You poured it out of a jar.”
You glanced over your shoulder, glaring at him, Mat grinned, completely unbothered. He was wearing a dark sweatshirt and gray sweatpants, his hair still slightly damp from the shower he had taken after practice. He looked unfairly comfortable in your apartment, his long legs spread out beneath your coffee table like he lived there.
In some ways, he practically did.
He had a key. He kept extra clothes in the bottom drawer of your dresser. His preferred coffee creamer was permanently stocked in your refrigerator, despite the fact that you hated it. Your neighbors no longer blinked when they saw one of the most recognizable athletes in New York walking through the building with takeout bags balanced in his arms.
But during the past few weeks, something had shifted between you.
Mat had become more attentive than usual, More affectionate. He touched your waist when he moved behind you in the kitchen. He rested his hand on your thigh while you watched movies. He looked at you for too long, his expression softening whenever you caught him.
At first, you had tried to convince yourself it was nothing.
Mat was naturally affectionate. He hugged his teammates, kissed his mother’s cheek, and regularly invaded your personal space without invitation. It was simply who he was. Then he had asked you to attend the Islanders’ charity gala with him.
Not as his friend, as his date. You had laughed because you assumed he was joking, he hadn’t laughed with you. Since then, you had been avoiding the conversation “You still haven’t answered me,” Mat said.
You stirred the sauce even though it didn’t need stirring. “About what?”
“The gala.”
“I told you I’m working.”
“You’re not.” Your hand stopped, Mat leaned forward, resting his forearms against his knees. “Your coworker switched shifts with you.”
You slowly turned around. “How do you know that?”
“I asked.”
“You asked my coworker about my schedule?”
“I went to get coffee. She was there.”
“You hate the coffee from my job.”
“I don’t hate it.”
“You once said it tasted like boiled cardboard.”
“It does.” He shrugged. “But you work there.”
That was Mat’s irritatingly simple explanation for everything. Why had he sat in the corner of the café for four hours while you worked a double shift?
Because you worked there.
Why did he drive almost an hour through traffic to eat reheated leftovers in your apartment?
Because you lived there.
Why had he flown you to Vancouver when your mother had surgery, rearranging his entire offseason schedule without telling you?
Because you needed him.
He made devotion sound ordinary. As if loving you—in whatever way he loved you—was as natural as breathing. You turned back toward the stove. “I don’t want to go.”
“Why?”
“I just don’t.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
Mat stood. You heard his footsteps cross the kitchen before he stopped behind you, he didn’t touch you, although you could feel the heat of him against your back “Did I do something?” he asked quietly.
The vulnerability in his voice made your chest ache “No.”
“Then why have you barely looked at me since I asked you?”
“Because you shouldn’t have asked.” Silence filled the kitchen, you immediately regretted the words. When you turned, Mat was staring at you with his eyebrows drawn together “What does that mean?”
“It means you should take someone else.”
“I don’t want someone else.”
“You could have anyone.”
“I know.” The confidence of his answer irritated you more than it should have, you released a humorless laugh. “Right. Exactly.”
Mat’s frown deepened. “Exactly what?”
“You’re Mathew Barzal.”
“Yes. We established that about twenty-eight years ago.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I genuinely don’t.”
You switched off the stove and pushed past him, suddenly unable to stand inside the small kitchen with his body occupying most of the available space. Mat followed you into the living room “Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There obviously is.”
“Can you please drop it?”
“No.”
You spun around. “Why not?”
“Because you’re my best friend, and you’ve been acting like I proposed that we rob a bank instead of asking you to come to a party with me.”
“It isn’t just a party.”
“It is to me.”
“You’ll be photographed.”
“So?”
“People will assume things.”
“What things?”
“That we’re together.”
Mat held your gaze, you waited for him to laugh. To look uncomfortable. To dismiss the possibility immediately. Instead, he took a step closer “Would that be so terrible?”
Your heart stumbled painfully “Mat.”
“What?”
“You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t mean them.”
His expression changed, the playful impatience disappeared, replaced by something quieter and more serious “You think I don’t mean it?”
“I think you’re confused.”
“I’m not.”
“You’ve been single for a while, and I’m familiar. I’m safe.”
“You are familiar. You are safe.” He paused. “Neither of those things means I’m confused.”
You folded your arms over your chest, attempting to protect yourself from a conversation you had spent years avoiding “Mat, please.”
“No. You don’t get to decide what I feel and then tell me I’m wrong.”
“I’m trying to save us from making a mistake.”
“Wanting you isn’t a mistake.” The words landed between you with enough force to steal your breath, Mat watched you carefully. There was no teasing in his expression. No uncertainty.
He meant it.
Somehow, that frightened you more, you shook your head. “You don’t want me.” His jaw tightened. “I just said I do.”
“You think you do.”
“Stop telling me what I think.”
“You date models, Mat.”
“I’ve dated two models.”
“That’s two more than most people.”
“What does that have to do with you?”
“Everything!” Your voice broke through the apartment, louder than you intended, Mat fell silent.
The embarrassment came immediately, burning across your face and down your neck. You looked away from him, fixing your gaze on the worn rug beneath your feet “You don’t understand,” you whispered.
“Then help me understand.”
You wanted to refuse.
You wanted to pretend there was nothing wrong, serve the pasta, and return to the comfortable version of your friendship where Mat was yours without truly belonging to you.
But he was standing there, waiting and perhaps you had grown tired of carrying the truth alone
“You belong with someone who fits into your life.”
“You fit into my life better than anyone.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?”
You swallowed hard “A hockey girlfriend.”
Mat blinked. “What is a hockey girlfriend?”
“You know.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Someone beautiful. Someone who knows how to dress for events and looks good in every picture. Someone confident who can walk into a room full of strangers and doesn’t spend the entire night wondering if everyone is laughing at her.”
Mat’s face softened, but you continued before he could interrupt.
“Someone with an interesting career who doesn’t come home smelling like burnt coffee and cleaning products. Someone who doesn’t spend half her paycheck on rent for an apartment where the bedroom door doesn’t close properly.”
His eyes flicked briefly toward the crooked door down the hallway “It really doesn’t close,” he admitted. You glared at him through the tears beginning to blur your vision “Not helping.”
“Sorry.”
You wiped beneath your eyes impatiently. “Someone skinny,” you forced yourself to add. “Someone who doesn’t have to change outfits six times because everything makes her feel enormous. Someone blond, probably, because that seems to be what hockey players like.”
“I like brunettes.”
“You’ve dated blonds.”
“I’ve also eaten raisins. That doesn’t mean they’re my preference.”
Despite yourself, a strangled laugh escaped you, Mat stepped closer, but you immediately moved back. His smile disappeared.
“You’re not listening,” you whispered. “People would look at us and wonder what you’re doing with me.”
“People wonder why I make half my decisions. I’m still allowed to make them.”
“I would embarrass you.”
“You could never embarrass me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I watched you throw up in a decorative planter at my cousin’s wedding.”
“I had food poisoning.”
“You drank eight glasses of sangria.”
“The fruit made it difficult to count.”
“My point is, we survived it.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“I know.” Mat’s voice softened, He closed the remaining distance slowly, giving you enough time to move away, you didn’t. “I know it isn’t funny,” he repeated. “But listening to you talk about yourself like this is killing me.”
You stared at the logo printed across his sweatshirt because looking into his eyes felt impossible. His fingers gently touched your wrist “Do you honestly think I care what color your hair is?”
“It isn’t only about my hair.”
“I know. You think you aren’t skinny enough. You think your job isn’t impressive enough. You think you’re too quiet, and that your clothes aren’t expensive, and that somehow any of that matters more than the fact that you’re you.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It is simple to me.”
“Well, it isn’t to me.”
“I know.” His thumb moved slowly over the inside of your wrist “That’s the part I didn’t understand,” he admitted. “I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I’ve been in love with you for years.” Your head snapped upward, Mat looked terrified.
Mat, who played in front of thousands of people. Mat, who faced reporters after terrible losses and tolerated strangers dissecting his every mistake. Mat, who had always seemed incapable of being intimidated by anything. He was terrified of you.
“You’re lying,” you breathed.
“I’m not.”
“You would have said something.”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“When we were seventeen and I asked if you’d ever date a hockey player.”
“You asked whether I would date Sidney Crosby.”
“I was testing the waters.”
“You chose the most famous hockey player in Canada.”
“I panicked.” A disbelieving laugh left you, Mat’s mouth lifted slightly “Then there was your twenty-first birthday,” he continued. “I tried to kiss you outside the restaurant.”
“You tripped.”
“I leaned in, you stepped backward then I tripped.”
“I thought you were drunk.”
“I was drunk. I was also trying to kiss you.”
Your mind searched through years of memories, suddenly rearranging moments you had misunderstood. The lingering hugs, the jealousy he denied whenever you dated someone, the way every girlfriend Mat had ever had seemed to dislike you before properly meeting you.
The late-night calls, the spare key, the coffee creamer, the fact that Mat always came home to you.
“You never said anything,” you whispered.
“You never acted like you wanted me to.”
“Because I didn’t think I was allowed to.”
His forehead creased. “Allowed?”
“You were my best friend. Then you became…” You gestured helplessly at him. “This.”
“A guy standing in your apartment?”
“A famous professional athlete.”
“I was already playing professional hockey when you made me drive across the city because you saw a spider.”
“It was huge.”
“It was the size of a blueberry.”
“It moved quickly.”
“You trapped it under a mixing bowl and put a chair on top of the bowl.”
“I didn’t want it escaping.”
Mat’s lips twitched, but his eyes remained serious “You never treated me differently,” he said. “Do you know how rare that is?”
“You’re still you.”
“And you’re still you.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“It is to me.”
He lifted your hand and pressed it against the center of his chest. Beneath your palm, his heart was beating rapidly “You think I need someone who understands the cameras and the events and all the other bullshit that comes with hockey,” he said. “I don’t. I need someone who understands me.”
Your fingers curled slightly against his sweatshirt.
“You know when I need space before I ask for it. You know I pretend I’m not upset after a bad game because I hate feeling like I disappointed people. You know I can’t sleep when I’m anxious, so you talk to me about absolutely nothing until I stop thinking.”
His hand covered yours “You knew me before anyone was watching. And after everyone started watching, you were the only person who still saw the same kid.”
“Mat…”
“You’re the first person I call when something good happens. You’re the person I want when everything goes wrong. When I picture going home, I don’t picture Coquitlam or New York. I picture wherever you are.”
Tears slipped silently down your cheeks, Mat released your hand only to cup your face “And for the record,” he continued, brushing one tear away with his thumb, “I think you’re beautiful.”
“You have to say that now.”
“I absolutely don’t.”
“You’re trying to convince me to date you.”
“I’m doing a terrible job if you still think I’d lie to accomplish that.”
You gave him a watery smile, his gaze moved over your face with such open affection that you almost had to look away “I love your hair,” he said. “Especially when you complain about it being impossible and then leave it all over my bathroom.”
“I have never used your bathroom.”
“You stayed at my place for three weeks while your building had a plumbing problem.”
“That was different.”
“I found a hair on my jersey months later.”
“Brunette hair is easily identifiable.”
“That’s not the argument you think it is.” You rolled your eyes, but Mat’s expression grew serious again “And I love your body.”
Your smile faded. His hands dropped from your face, resting carefully against your waist “Not despite anything,” he said. “Not because I’m being nice. I love you exactly as you are.”
You tensed instinctively beneath his touch, Mat noticed, he always noticed. His hands immediately loosened, but he didn’t remove them “You don’t have to believe everything tonight,” he whispered. “I know I can’t undo years of you feeling like you’re not enough in one conversation.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever feel like enough for your world.”
“Then maybe my world needs to change.”
“You can’t change your entire life for me.”
“I’m not changing my life. I’m telling you that you’re already part of it.”
You looked at him, searching for hesitation, there was none “What about my job?”
“What about it?”
“It’s awful.”
“You hate it?”
“Most days.”
“Then I’ll support you while you find something you like. But I’m not embarrassed that you work at a café. You work harder than nearly everyone I know.”
“It isn’t glamorous.”
“Neither is hockey. I spend half my life in sweaty equipment with grown men yelling at me.”
“You earn millions of dollars.”
“That does improve it.”
You laughed again, shaking your head, Mat smiled, relief briefly softening his features, then his thumb brushed over your side “And you don’t need to become one of the women you see online,” he said. “You don’t have to dress like them or look like them or act like them. I don’t want a hockey girlfriend.”
“What do you want?”
“You.”
One simple word, it shouldn’t have been powerful enough to dismantle every defense you had built, but it did.
“I’m scared,” you admitted.
“I am too.”
“You don’t look scared.”
“I’ve been trying to tell my best friend I’m in love with her for ten minutes, and she keeps accusing me of having a blond fetish.” A surprised laugh burst from you, Mat grinned “There you are.”
“Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not.”
“You are a little.”
“Only enough to stop you from crying.” His thumbs brushed beneath your eyes, you looked at him for a long moment “What happens if we ruin everything?”
“What happens if we don’t?”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No, but it’s the question that has kept me awake for years.”
Your breath caught, Mat leaned closer, slowly enough that you understood exactly what he was asking. His forehead touched yours “I’m not asking you to suddenly become confident,” he whispered. “I’m not asking you to walk into that gala and pretend you aren’t nervous. You can spend the entire night holding my hand. We can leave after ten minutes. We can skip it completely and eat pasta here.”
“The sauce might be burned.”
“It came from a jar. We’ll recover.”
You closed your eyes briefly “What are you asking me for, then?”
“A chance.” His nose brushed yours.
“One real chance to love you the way I’ve wanted to.” Your heart was beating so hard you wondered whether he could feel it through the small distance between you “And if I’m terrible at this?”
“You’ve watched me attempt to assemble furniture. You know I have a high tolerance for failure.”
“You put an entire bookcase together backward.”
“The instructions were unclear.”
“They had pictures.”
“I was under pressure.” You smiled, your hands finally settling against his chest, Mat’s expression softened as he looked down at them, then he looked at you again “Can I kiss you?”
You had imagined this moment more times than you would ever admit.
In those fantasies, you had always been different. Thinner. More confident. Wearing something beautiful instead of old leggings and a faded sweater. Your hair had been styled, your skin perfect, and your hands hadn’t trembled when they reached for him.
But Mat wasn’t looking at an imaginary version of you, he was looking at you. The real you.
The woman who smelled faintly of tomato sauce and had cried hard enough that her eyes would be swollen in the morning and he still wanted you
“Yes,” you whispered.
Mat kissed you gently. There was no desperate urgency. No dramatic collision of mouths after years of suppressed feelings. It was soft, patient. His hand cupped the back of your neck while the other remained at your waist, anchoring you against him without pulling you closer than you were prepared to be.
It felt familiar and entirely new at once, like discovering that the home you had been searching for was the place where you had always lived.
When he pulled back, his lips remained close to yours “You okay?”
You nodded, dazed “That was…”
“Good?” he suggested.
“Unexpected.”
“I confessed my love first. There was some warning.”
You lightly shoved his chest, Mat laughed and caught your hand, bringing it to his mouth. His lips brushed your knuckles. The tenderness of the gesture made your chest tighten again “You really want me to go to the gala with you?” you asked.
“Yes.”
“As your date?”
“Yes.”
“People might say things.”
“People always say things.”
“What if they don’t think I’m pretty enough for you?”
Mat’s amusement disappeared, he brought your hand back to his chest “Then they’ll be wrong.”
“It won’t bother you?”
“It’ll bother me that it hurts you.” He paused. “But it won’t make me question you and it definitely won’t make me ashamed of you.”
You studied his face “What will you do if someone asks who I am?”
A slow smile spread across his lips “I’ll tell them you’re the girl I’ve been in love with since I was seventeen.”
Your cheeks warmed “You cannot tell reporters that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s embarrassing.”
“For you or for me?”
“For me. You apparently have no shame.”
“Correct.”
You rested your forehead against his chest, hiding your face, Mat wrapped both arms around you. His cheek settled against the top of your head, and for several quiet seconds, neither of you spoke.
You could hear the rhythmic beating of his heart “You know,” he murmured, “my mom is going to be unbearable.”
Your stomach dropped. “Your mom?”
“She has been waiting for this since we were kids.”
“She knows?”
“Everyone knows.”
You pulled back sharply. “Everyone?”
“My parents. Your parents. My sister. Half my childhood friends.”
“And nobody told me?”
“They assumed you knew.”
“I didn’t know!”
“Apparently, I was obvious.”
“You dated other people.”
“I was trying to move on.”
The admission erased your outrage “Did it work?”
Mat looked at you as though the answer was self-evident “I’m standing in your apartment while pasta burns behind us.” Your eyes widened “The pasta!”
You rushed toward the kitchen, but Mat caught you around the waist before you could escape, a laugh left you as he pulled you back against his chest. “Let it burn,” he murmured, pressing his face into your hair.
“I haven’t eaten since lunch.”
“I’ll order something.”
“You complain every time I order delivery.”
“I’m feeling generous.”
“You’re only saying that because you finally kissed me.”
“Exactly. This is the happiest day of my life.”
“You were drafted into the NHL.”
“Second happiest.”
“You won the Calder.”
“Third.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love me.” The words stilled you, Mat seemed to realize what he had said at the same moment. His grip loosened slightly, giving you room to step away.
You didn’t.
You turned in his arms “I do,” you admitted quietly. Hope transformed his entire face “I’ve loved you for years. I just never thought I could have you.”
Mat’s eyes shone as he leaned down “You’ve always had me.” This kiss was different. Still gentle, but no longer tentative.
Mat kissed you like someone who had spent years waiting for permission. Like someone finally arriving at the destination he had been moving toward his entire life and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe him.
Not completely.
The insecurities didn’t disappear because Mat loved you. You knew there would be difficult days. Photographs you would hate. Comments you shouldn’t read but inevitably would. Events where you would compare yourself to every woman in the room.
Loving Mat wasn’t going to magically teach you how to love yourself.
But when you finally attended the gala two weeks later, wearing a simple dark dress you had nearly returned three times, Mat looked at you as though every other person in the room had vanished.
He didn’t release your hand when the cameras began flashing, he didn’t hurry you through the photographs when you stiffened beside him, Instead, he leaned toward your ear “You look beautiful.”
“You’ve said that twelve times.”
“I’m trying to make it thirteen.”
“You don’t have to keep reassuring me.”
“I know.”
His fingers intertwined with yours.
“I want to.”
A reporter called Mat’s name and asked him to identify the woman standing beside him. You felt his hand tighten around yours, Mat looked at you first.
A silent question. You swallowed your fear and nodded, his smile was immediate “This is YN,” he said proudly. “My girlfriend.”
The title sent a wave of warmth through your chest.
Another reporter asked how you had met, Mat’s smile softened as he glanced at you “She’s my childhood best friend.”
“And now?”
His eyes never left yours “Now she’s finally letting me take her on a proper date.”
The reporters laughed, but you barely heard them. Mat lifted your joined hands and kissed your knuckles.
You knew the photographs would spread online before you even reached your table, you knew strangers would have opinions.
Some would call you beautiful. Others wouldn’t understand. A few might decide you weren’t thin enough, glamorous enough, or interesting enough to stand beside him.
But Mat wasn’t looking at them, he was looking at you.
The brunette girl from Coquitlam who had sat through his hockey practices and answered his midnight phone calls, the girl with the tiny apartment and the terrible job. The girl who had never believed someone like Mathew Barzal could choose her.
Except Mat hadn’t chosen you because he had become famous and suddenly noticed you standing nearby.
He had chosen you when you were children, he had chosen you through every city, every season, and every version of himself. And when the room became too loud, Mat leaned down and whispered the truth he intended to spend the rest of your lives proving.
“You were never the opposite of what I wanted.” His lips brushed your temple “You were always it.”
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i’ve been seeing all these videos about the sharks at a school (?) or wherever they were, and one was macklin reading to kids, so my idea was like student teacher reader meets macklin or something cute
the run-ins
macklin celebrini x student teacher!reader
wc: 5.4k
note: full disclosure, i'm not sure kindergarteners learn about the life cycle of animals, but i had a cute idea so who cares
the first time you run into him, you're at target.
it's 10:30, target closes at 11, and you have a class full of kindergarteners that are fully expecting pet dinosaurs tomorrow morning at seven thirty sharp.
your host teacher, allison, has a tradition every year where the kids raise pet dinosaurs. it's during the life cycle unit, after learning about how different animals go from being in eggs to being fully grown.
at the beginning of last week, you and allison handed out the dinosaur eggs. the kids had spent the entire week loving them, making sure they were safe, even building little nests inside their desks for them. they all got really into it, passionately dedicated to their future pet dinosaurs.
it's one of the cutest things you've ever seen.
which is why you desperately need these little plastic dinosaurs.
allison has a four year old and a two year old. she has a lot on her plate. she's the best host teacher you could've ever dreamt of, the nicest woman on the planet, and all you want is for her to be happy.
both of her kids have been having trouble sleeping lately, which means allison hasn't really been sleeping, either. she puts on a really good front for the kids, but you see sides of her they don't. you see the way her blinks are just a little bit too long, the bags under her eyes, and the way she's struggling to focus more and more everyday.
so when she complained about having to make time to run to the store to get plastic dinosaurs, you volunteered to get them yourself.
unfortunately, this week was very busy for you between class, student teaching, and work. so... you totally spaced it.
10:30 on a sunday. and you can't find these fucking dinosaurs.
you've checked toys twice, party favors, and even the art section, but they're nowhere to be found.
it hits 10:45, and the remaining employees are eyeing you with concern, hoping desperately you get out soon. you feel bad, because you know that they don't get paid enough, and all they want is to go home, but you are not leaving without plastic dinosaurs.
you already braved asking an employee if there are any in the back, but the tired-looking teenager had just said: "what we have is out, ma'am, i'm sorry,"
so you're kind of out of luck.
but that's when you see him.
you're standing in front of the party favor aisle, where you'd been sure they would be. a man appears at the other end of the aisle, and even though you don't want to admit it, what catches your attention initially is how pretty he is.
tall, floppy brown hair, bright green eyes, rosy cheeks.
woah.
you're momentarily distracted by him, caught a little bit off guard at the attractive stranger in target at such a late hour.
so distracted, in fact, that it takes you a second to realize what he's just grabbed.
a package of tiny plastic dinosaurs.
"hey!" the word is out of your mouth before you can really process it, and then you're walking towards the cute stranger with more determination than you thought you could possess at this point in the night. "um, where did you find those?"
the cute stranger looks beyond confused, but answers anyway. "right there," he points at a small gap between two other products. which, unfortunately, is disastrously lacking in additional dinosaurs.
"do you need them?" you ask, pointing at the dinos in his hand. you know you look crazy, but you've decided you no longer care.
cute stranger cocks his head to the side, thinking for a few seconds. "i guess not. my roommate is really into baking and wanted to make a dinosaur themed cake."
"can i have them please?" you ask. "i'm sorry about your roommate's cake, but i really need them."
he looks like he's trying to hold in a laugh. "is there some sort of plastic dinosaur emergency happening somewhere?"
"kind of," you admit. "i'm a teacher. we're learning about the life cycle, and my kids are expecting pet dinosaurs to be hatched in their desks by tomorrow morning. i totally spaced getting them this weekend, and my host teacher is already struggling, so i thought i was doing her a favor by offering to get them for the kids, but it's not a favor if i don't actually get them, and-"
"here," cute stranger cuts you off by shoving the little bag in your hands. "my roommate will survive."
for a few seconds, you just stare down at them in shock. then the excitement takes over, and you smile, hugging them to your chest.
"thank you," you breathe. "seriously, you have no idea how awesome you are. you just made a class of 25 kindergarteners very happy.”
he nods, a smile on his face. "i'm so glad."
the two of you just stand there for another few seconds, looking into each other's eyes, a slightly awkward silence engulfing the situation.
finally, you sigh and say, "well i um, better get out of here. school tomorrow and all."
"i have work," he sticks his hands in his pockets.
you're not sure what else to say, so you just smile, and then turn around to start walking towards the registers.
cute stranger starts walking with you.
"i'm mack, by the way," he offers. you look up at him in surprise, watching as pink begins to crawl up his neck to his cheeks, even the tips of his ears warming.
"y/n," you respond, feeling a little bit awestruck. "nice to meet you."
he walks with you to the register, stays with you as you approach the tired-looking cashier. you're so busy with rifling through your bag for your card that you fail to notice two things.
one, the cashier's eyes widening as they land on mack, mouth dropping open in surprise and awe.
two, mack tapping his phone on the little device, paying for your students' pet dinosaurs.
you only end up noticing one of those things.
"oh, you-" you try, but then the little screen says card accepted, and this strange, very cute boy has just paid for you. when you look up at him, there's a small, proud smile on his face. "you didn't have to do that," you finish.
mack shrugs. "i... wanted to,"
you sigh, snatching the little bag of dinos off the counter, and beginning to exit the target. you can’t keep the smile off your face, but you can’t keep the disbelief out of your mind, either. you don’t look back as you walk through the sliding glass doors and towards your car.
you know that he’s behind you.
halfway through the parking lot, you stop.
“i’m not going to give you my number just because you bought dinos for my kids,” you say, willing yourself to stay strong. he’s cute, yes, but he’s still a stranger. a stranger who bought you something, which is almost never a good sign, even if this guy seems really nice. “it was very sweet, but i’m perfectly capable of providing my own students with dinosaurs,”
you turn back around, continuing to make your way to your car. you can hear his footsteps continue behind you.
mack-the-stranger nods, hand reaching up to awkwardly scratch at the nape of his neck. “yeah, i can see what’s going on here…” he sighs. “i don’t expect your number. just wanted to do a nice thing for a pretty girl,”
your cheeks heat at the compliment, as well as being relieved that he’s not pressuring you for anything. he is really cute, and seems really nice. you almost offer to give it to him anyway, but you stand your ground.
so instead, you just smile, say, “well then, goodnight mack. it was nice to meet you,” and get in your car.
you tell yourself to forget about him, about the cute target boy who was so kind as to give you the plastic dinosaurs for your students, and then buy them for you. when you go into school the next morning, and begin setting out the dinosaurs for your students, you try to forget him. and you try your hardest to not bring him up when allison thanks you for getting the dinosaurs so she didn’t have to, but you’re unable to.
even though you spend the next few weeks trying desperately to get the cute stranger from a late night target run out of your mind, you continue to fail.
miserably.
the next time you see him, you’re attempting to balance 10 pizzas in your arms.
your kids won a contest, reading more books than all the other classes at the elementary school. because of that, they’re getting a pizza party.
it’s well deserved. they all read like crazy, giving the best book reports allison says she’s ever seen from her students, and supporting each other when the class was beginning to slow down on their reading progress. it was so cute watching them all treat the school wide reading contest like some sort of battle field, especially since they came out victorious.
when the principal came over the PA system and announced that it was mrs. wright’s class (your class) that had won the pizza party, the room exploded instantly. you’ve never seen them so happy, it was amazing.
they worked so hard for the pizza party, and they definitely deserved it.
you and allison were both excited for it as well, considering that would be an hour where you didn’t have to be doing any teaching, and would just get to have fun with the kids.
there’s just one wrinkle.
nobody told you that the pizza wasn’t getting delivered.
you’re in your car before anyone can say anything, speeding towards the pizza place as safely as you can.
when you get there, the place is pretty empty. there’s a small family sitting in the corner, and a man standing by the counter wearing a ball cap, and the guy behind the register.
“hi!” you’re out of breath from sprinting to your car, then into the building, and from your anxiety. “i have a pickup order for bachrodt elementary school.”
the teenager at the register clicks a few buttons on his ipad, and then walks over to the pizza warmers, where he silently takes out ten pizzas, and places them on the counter. after he’s done, he just looks at you expectantly.
“do i… have to pay?” you ask. you’d been under the impression that the school had paid for them when they put in the order.
he looks down at his screen again, and when he looks back up at you, he’s shaking his head.
you just smile awkwardly at this silent worker, and start assessing how you’re going to get all ten pizzas in the car by yourself. your first thought is that you’re going to have to take multiple trips, but a quick glance down at your watch proves that that isn’t an option. the pizza party starts in fifteen minutes, and it’ll take you twelve to drive back to school. assuming, of course, that there’s no traffic.
one trip it is.
you’re so focused on trying to gather the pizzas as quickly and efficiently as possible that you don’t notice the presence next to you until words are spoken to you.
“need help?”
you let out a little gasp at the surprise, whipping around and coming face to face with none other than mack.
the late night target cutie.
“oh!” you smile despite yourself. “um… hi! what are you doing here?”
he glances around, amusement in his eyes, before saying: “ordering a pizza,”
“oh…” you laugh awkwardly, tucking your hair behind your ears. “nice!”
you facepalm mentally, and get back to gathering up your excessive amount of pizza boxes, trying not to freak out about the fact that the guy you haven’t been able to stop thinking about recently is standing right there in this random little caesar’s.
mack clears his throat. “do you need any help?” he repeats. “i’m uh… i’m waiting on a pizza. i can help you get those into your car if you’d like?”
you think about it for a few seconds. honestly, even though you’d love to spend a few more minutes with this handsome stranger, you’re not sure if you should. you don’t want to get your hopes up for anything, and you definitely don’t want to give your mind anything else to latch on to when you inevitably part from this handsome stranger.
but then you look down at your watch again. you don’t have enough time to deny help.
“sure,” you say, avoiding eye contact. you scoop up five of the pizzas, and turn to start heading back towards your car.
mack picks up the other five, and follows you out.
your car is right out front, and even though your keys are clutched in your fist, it’s still an awkward few seconds of you shifting both the pizzas in your arms and the keys in your hand to get everything in the optimal position to unlock your car. you stick the key in the lock, and then have to shuffle the door open to unlock the rest of them.
he speaks again as you’re trying to open the back door.
“another errand for school?”
you plop the pizzas down in your backseat and turn to look at him. “what?”
“well,” he slides next to you, arms brushing yours as he puts the other pizzas on the other seat so they don’t slide while you’re driving. when he’s done, he leans against your car and gives you the most adorable smile in the world. “the last time i saw you, you were getting pet dinos for your students. is this another thing for them, or have you just not eaten in a few days?”
you laugh, glancing at the ten pizzas in your backseat. of course this looks weird.
“another thing for my students,” you clarify. “they won a schoolwide reading challenge and earned a pizza party. my principal didn’t tell me that we had to pick them up, though, so i had to rush out before the party to get to them.”
mack smiles. “well, i’m glad you’re here.” he looks down for a few seconds, and when he looks up, his cheeks are pink. “i kinda thought i’d never see you again.”
“me too,” you admit, heart fluttering at the way he’s looking at you.
his body angles towards yours just the tiniest bit more, and your mouth opens in surprise. in seconds, it feels like your entire world is wrapped around him, and all you want is to talk to him. get to know him. spend time with him. you’d been a little bit annoyed at him for buying your students’ dinosaurs, but it was more on the principle of the thing, of the worry that he would expect you to give him his number.
he hadn’t, though. when you’d brought it up, he’d walked away with no worries.
if he asked for your number right now, you would give it to him.
right as you have that thought, your phone pings.
it’s a text from allison. are you otw? kids are almost back from recess
“shit!” you exclaim. you look up at mack in surrpise, and slam your rear door closed, the sound startling both of you. “i’m so sorry, i have to go right now! thank you so much for your help!” you rush out, before opening your driver’s side door.
“of course,” mack says, still smiling but looking confused. “before you go, can i—”
you want to let him finish, but you can’t stop thinking about your kids coming back from recess and there being no pizza, so you don’t. you close the door, and make sure he’s stepped out of the way before driving off, awkwardly waving, cringing at yourself as you begin to head back to school.
twelve minutes later, you’re back at school. taking all the pizzas in by yourself makes you infinitely grateful for mack and his help in getting them out to the car. you were right, the kids were devastated when they came back in from recess and there was no pizza, but the looks of excitement and relief on their faces when you walked in holding them made you feel better, and made the rush worth it.
even though you’re so so glad that you go the pizza to the kids, you regret not taking the extra second to get mack’s number. you’d been hoping that he would ask you, but you should’ve just been brave and asked him yourself.
and now, you’re probably never going to see him again.
the third time you run into mack, you’re really not expecting to.
the san jose sharks, the local hockey team for your hometown of san jose, california, are coming to your school today. it’s part of the “reading is cool” program, since the kids at your school read so much, the principal and the director of the program set up a day where a few of the players are coming to read to the classes, and then there’s going to be a reading award ceremony later in the day.
to say that life has been a bit hectic would be an understatement.
your class spent the morning making sharkie the shark hats, decorating the hats themselves and writing their names on it so that it would be easier for the players. keeping the kids somewhat under control while waiting for the players to arrive is the worst part, with everyone jumping off the walls and talking loudly about who they’re most excited to meet.
since you’re student teaching in kindergarten, your class is one of the first to get read to.
you’d been told that the three players who were going to be coming were zack ostapchuk, will smith, and macklin celebrini.
of course you thought of mack when you heard the name, the guy that you’ve run into twice and walked away from each time without a phone number. since talking about him to your friends (and to allison, of course), you’ve kind of convinced yourself that he’s the love of your life, and you’ve lost all chance with him by leaving both times.
so while it would be great if the mack that you know is somehow a famous hockey player, you’re just not that lucky. sure, he looked like he could be one. definitely has the face of one. but there’s just no way.
no way.
and yet, when the door to your classroom opens, there he is.
mack.
you gasp, louder than you intend to, which catches the attention of allison and a few of your students. the kids forget quickly, cheering at the appearance of the professional hockey player, but allison doesn’t.
“what’s up?” she asks, sidling up to you and eyeing mack.
it takes you a few seconds to answer, watching as the kids swarm him, his soft smile as he looks at them. your heart is pounding in your chest, your mind running a mile a minute at seeing him here.
“it’s… him,” you mumble. “mack.”
it takes allison a few seconds of thinking before it clicks in her mind, and she lets out a loud gasp. “mack?” she asks. she then turns to you, squealing quietly, a huge smile on her face. “babe, this is amazing! not only have you been flirting with a professional hockey player, he’s here! you thought you were never gonna see him again! oh, how wonderful the universe is!”
you almost want to laugh at the irony of it all, at what a coincidence this is.
that’s when he looks up and sees you.
he freezes. like, quite literally goes from walking and looking around to standing stock still, staring at you with wide eyes, his jaw dropped. you smile, nervously biting your bottom lip and trying your best to be as casual and normal about this as possible.
“y/n?” he asks, starting to move towards you. you want to run towards him, say how happy you are to see him, apologize for how you’ve left both of the times that you’ve met, ask for his number right now.
and then you’re interrupted.
“you know miss y/n?” one of your kids, evie, asks loudly. “how?”
mack’s mouth opens again, eyes widening once again as many of your kindergarteners catch onto this and start bombarding the two of you with questions. you can see the panic begin to grow on his face, so you step in. you clap three times, and your students respond with three claps of their own.
“we met this morning,” you explain calmly. “everybody chill out and go sit on the carpet.”
your kids laugh and move towards the carpet, keeping their eyes on the hockey player still standing near the door. mack’s eyes haven’t left yours, fingers flexing at his sides, beginning to move towards you with small, hesitant steps.
distantly, you notice that allison has gone to the carpet to continue settling the kids down. there are people with cameras filing into the rooms, people adjusting microphones, setting up lighting. in minutes, your classroom is going to be a tv set, and even though that’s something that’s been bothering you for a few days, you’re not thinking about that right now. right now, you’re thinking about the fact that the guy you haven’t been able to stop thinking about, that you’ve accidentally run into twice, no three, times now, is standing right here. in your classroom.
“hi,” he breathes when you’re close enough.
“hi,” you echo, having to remind your lungs that they need air.
mack rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. “i, um… i didn’t think i’d see you here. today. i mean, i definitely wanted to see you again, definitely hoped i would, this is just… unexpected.”
you laugh. “it’s definitely unexpected.”
confusion crosses his face, and his tilts his head, reminding you of the cutest golden retriever in the world. “you… didn’t know? who i am?”
“no,” you shake your head. “i grew up in a football family, we’re big 49ers fans. i mean, i know of the sharks, but i’ve never… the point is, no, i didn’t know that you’re a professional hockey player.”
mack smiles, and lets out a little sigh. the look on his face can only be described as disbelief, and maybe even a little… relief?
he opens his mouth to say something else, but is interrupted by a very official-looking woman wearing a suit. she hands him a book and ushers him to the front of the room, sitting him down in one of the kindergarten-sized chairs, comically small when he’s sitting in it. as soon as he’s sat down, people start adjusting the lights, have him say a few words to test the microphones, and you and allison are left to do your own thing.
you stay standing where you are for a few minutes, watching as mack complies with the media people. he looks slightly uncomfortable whenever he looks out at the sea of kindergarteners in front of him, but he’s putting on a brave face.
after a bit, you move to the back of the room where allison is, and sit next to her, watching in awe as mack begins reading to your class.
the kids are enamored, never commenting or interrupting his reading at all, unlike how they are when you or allison read. they’re all staring at him, probably not listening to anything he’s saying, and more amazed at the fact that he’s actually in front of them. you know for a fact that a few of your kids are die hard sharks fans, so this is definitely the best day of their lives.
you can practically feel your eyes turning into hearts as mack gets visibly more comfortable with the whole situation the farther into the book he gets. you can’t stop looking at him, your heart fluttering every time his gaze flickers up from the book to look at you, cheeks reddening and a soft smile coming onto his face every time you make eye contact.
“please tell me you’re not letting him leave without your number,” allison whispers.
with great difficulty, you tear your eyes from mack. “i mean… i’m gonna try. but i don’t know if he even wants it.”
allison scoffs. “are you kidding? that boy is clearly into you.”
you smile. “i hope so.”
when he’s done reading, he opens the floor up for questions. there are a lot, and you have to go over to organize it all, because he initially just asks for questions, and twenty five little voices start yelling at him. you make them all raise their hands, and then it goes much smoother.
there’s a variety of questions. most are about him being a hockey player, some are about who he is personally. one of your kids asks what his favorite book is, and he says it’s the one he just read them. immediately after, every kid in your classroom starts declaring that book their favorite as well. you watch in real time as his heart soars at how excited they all are to have the same favorite book as him, at relating to the professional hockey player in some way. your smile widens at the sight.
you can’t believe he’s here.
the moment is so incredibly perfect, so heartwarming that you almost want to cry.
and that’s when you remember the cameras.
you’d been hesitant about this whole thing when you heard about it, because the very last thing any elementary school needs is a huge camera crew following around a bunch of professional hockey players. even though every parent in your class signed the waiver for their kids to be on tv, you’re still iffy about it. as a teacher, you really despise kids being on television and social media. if anyone had asked you about this, you would have said that it’s a nice thought, but there was a lot wrong with it. not only the huge cameras being carted around this school, filming the kids’ faces, but it’s also distracting to their learning. you and allison have no doubt that you’re going to get very minimal work done in the next few days because everybody’s going to be so wrapped up in talking about this, and dissecting every little moment of it.
of course, if you were a kid experiencing this, you’d do the same thing. but you’re not a kid, you’re a student teacher. so it’s going to be difficult.
and obviously, right as you remember the cameras, one of your kids decides to ask the worst question in the history of questions ever.
evie raises her hand, and mack calls on her.
“um, mr. celebrini,” you smile at the adorable way she addresses him. “are you and miss y/n gonna get married?”
the class gasps, and then explodes in excitement. “yeah! are you gonna get married?” olivia yells.
“are you gonna have babies?” jacob questions.
you and mack stare in horror at the barrage of questions, and all you can think about is the fact that the cameras are recording right now. hopefully, they won’t use this moment. you’ll go up to them later and beg them to delete it, because even though mack is cute and you’re hoping to start talking to him more regularly, you definitely don’t want a clip of your students asking if you’re going to have babies with this man going on the internet.
allison rushes over, quickly quieting the students, and reminding them to ask polite questions. they all have the grace to look chastised, and even though you’d love to stay up there with mack, you quickly move to the back of the classroom.
mack doesn’t stop looking up at you throughout the rest of the visit to your class, but he definitely tries to keep the looks short, because apparently your students are paying more attention than either of you thought they were.
you and mack share one more long look before he’s sent to the next classroom, his expression feeling like a promise, like a single word.
later.
trying to get your students to do anything productive for the rest of the day is a lost cause, but you and allison try your hardest. you make the quiet coyote signal with your fingers pretty much constantly, and only a few of your students even noice to try and point it out to their peers, but nothing really works. thankfully, there’s no drama between any of the students, so really, you and allison are grateful for that at least.
at the very end of the day, there’s an award ceremony where four students are honored for their reading. you and allison get your kids settled in their assigned spots on the gym floor, before going to stand at the back with all the other students. allison is already gossiping with her two teacher friends about how you and macklin celebrini have been running into each other and flirting. you try to get her to stop, but the other teachers are already too invested, and they’ve promised not to spread it around. thankfully, you believe them.
mack keeps glancing at you throughout the entire assembly, and you’re doing the same. you’re both trying to be subtle about it, and both failing miserably. allison notices it, obviously, and now that the other two teachers are informed of the situation, they notice, too. all three of them are giggling and whispering to each other, much to your amused chagrin.
at the end of the assembly, you start trying to help gather up the kids, but allison stops you.
“absolutely not,” she says, gently nudging you to where the three hockey players are chatting with the coordinator of the event. “i’ll get them. you go talk to him.”
and then, she’s gone. the gym empties fairly quick, leaving just the hockey players, a straggler class, and a few members of administration.
it’s unprofessional, you tell yourself. you’re a student teacher, this is no place to be looking for romance.
but….
you don’t allow the hesitation to kick in. the small group disperses right as you gather your courage, leaving macklin alone. you force your feet to move, until you’re standing right in front of him.
“hi,” you start.
mack chuckles. “hi again.”
you take a deep breath, looking into his pretty green eyes, feeling both calmer and more nervous making such intense eye contact, and force yourself to say it.
“um. can i have your phone number?”
he freezes for a few seconds, looking at you in pure shock. then you panic.
“i-if you don’t want to, that’s totally fine,” you start. “i totally get it. i’m a stranger, we’ve only met a few times, and i’ve been really weird every time we’ve talked, including right now, which is unfortunate. you probably think that i’m just doing this because you’re a professional hockey player, which totally isn’t true because i know nothing about hockey so i have nothing to gain by asking you for your number. i mean, not that i’m trying to gain anything, i just, i don’t know. i think you’re cute and sweet and i would love to hang out more, but if you’re not—”
your rambling is cut off by mack sticking his phone out.
“i’d love for you to have my number,” his voice is calm. “and i’d love to have yours.”
your mind quiets in an instant, a small smile covering your face as you reach for his phone, already open onto a blank contact. you type in your name and number, then hand it back.
“there’s a really good froyo place like… five minutes away,” you say softly. “if you give me ten minutes for the kids to get picked up, we could go get some.”
mack smiles. “i’d love that.”
it was a long road to get here, but you’re glad that you did. because even though you’ve been unbelievably weird in all three of your meetings with who you now know is macklin celebrini, he’s still interested in you.
the impromptu froyo date goes amazingly. you learn a lot about him and about hockey. you tell him about your life, how you got into teaching, what made you want to do it. you talk for hours, about everything and nothing.
it’s amazing.
you drive back to your apartment with a huge smile on your face, and one thought in your mind.
you need to start watching hockey.
a/n: holy doozy this is a fat fanfic 😸 this has lowk been my passion project for the last couple days, so i'm excited for it to be done! partially because i've been working on it so long that if i look at it for five more minutes i'm going to throw my computer, and partially because i can't wait for you guys to read it! thank you so much for the lovely request, thank you all for all the support! i love you all so much, have a wonderful day/night! <33
macklin celebrini isn’t great at keeping secrets… except for the small detail that he’s been secretly dating his childhood best friend. but when a spring break trip to the maldives fills your social media pages with photos that look very couple-coded, the two of you decide it might finally be time to stop pretending you’re ‘just friends’.
warnings. secret relationship, best friends to lovers, fluff, vacation setting, minor online drama
face claim. mataya sweeting
side note. inspired by the song "wi$h li$t" by taylor swift !! also yes, i’m aware that hockey players don’t have a spring break... this is a purely self-indulgent smau. pls don’t forget to like, comment, and/or reblog 𑁤
yourusername girls just wanna have sun (first day in the maldives!) ☀️
tagged yourbffusername, macklincelebrini
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user1 finally spring break!!
user2 ok model ♥︎ liked by author
user3 goals 😋
user4 you're living the dream for real
user5 meanwhile i'm bed rotting on the couch 😄
user6 vacationing in the maldives looks so fun ♥︎ liked by author
macklincelebrini picture creds? ♥︎ liked by author
yourusername i literally tagged you 🙂
macklincelebrini oops i didn't see that ♥︎ liked by author
yourbffusername too many braincells were knocked out during hockey season 😌 ♥︎ liked by author
yourusername i'm starting to think so too
user7 best post on my feed today hands down
user8 so cool!
user9 love this so much 🥰🥰
user10 you look incredible!! ♥︎ liked by author
yourusername if heaven had a beach
tagged macklincelebrini
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user11 those pictures don't even look real
user12 yeahhh, for my sanity this photo dump is ai 🙂↔️
user13 interesting company you're keeping y/n
user14 does anyone else want to acknowledge the elephant in the room? 🤔
user15 awww baby sharks ♥︎ liked by author
user16 why are they holding hands.
user17 if this is a hard launch i will not survive ❌
macklincelebrini not a bad view at all ♥︎ liked by author
nopuckstogive macklin celebrini has made quite a few appearances in y/n l/n's recent instagram posts. bestie trip❔
tagged macklincelebrini, yourusername
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user18 literally the definition of don't be suspicious
user19 that's what they all say ✌️
user20 mhhhmmmm…
user21 i don't want to start rumors but it sure is hard not to when they're doing stuff like this ♥︎ liked by author
user22 "guys and girls cannot be platonic friends" or whatever the rule says 🤝
user23 interesting, interesting *jots down notes*
user24 they've known each other since they were like six years old. god forbid long time friends just want to take a trip together ♥︎ liked by author
user25 and yet they bicker like an old married couple 🤣
macklincelebrini might just settle down here forever ❤️
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user26 ohhhh okay... okay i see you
user27 macklin you are not slick. 😃
user28 slow your horses mack you've barely been in the nhl for 2 years and you already want to retire?
user29 it's the y/n effect, he wants to spend the rest of his life with her 💗💗
user30 i can hear the ynmack shippers breaking out of their straitjackets right now
yourusername bro discovered peace for the first time ♥︎ liked by author
user31 well no duh miss y/n it's bc of you
macklincelebrini you literally begged me to cancel our plane tickets home 🤨
yourusername shut up ♥︎ liked by author
user32 mack wanting to live off the grid was not on my bingo card 👀
yourusername posted an Instagram story
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macklincelebrini replied to yourusername's Instagram story
i'm actually amazing, idk what you're talking about 🙇
yourusername taking a moment to appreciate the cuisine 🏝️🍍
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user33 omg my stomach just growled so loudly
user34 i wish i had a free bag of chips ughhh
macklincelebrini 5/10 but the company was great 🫶
yourusername aww thank you so much!!!
macklincelebrini ouch i hate to break it to you, but i was actually talking about that toucan we saw at lunch yesterday... 😛
yourusername you're sleeping outside tonight. 🥹
macklincelebrini jeez i was just joking ♥︎ liked by author
user35 i need a food review stat
user36 lowkey this might be the only thing i needed to convince me to book a trip to the maldives... ✈️
user37 oh i bet the seafood is fire
user38 that plate is art ♥︎ liked by author
user39 the way i would demolish every single meal
user40 idk how you waited to take pics, i would've immediately jumped in and eaten the whole thing instantly 🤤 ♥︎ liked by author
macklincelebrini posted an Instagram story
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yourusername replied to macklincelebrini's Instagram story
only because your fingers kept covering the camera lens 😒
yourusername good surf, no hypocrites 🌊
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user41 beach days are everything 🏄♀️
user42 thank you for updating us because i'm living vicariously through these posts ♥︎ liked by author
user43 bucket list destination
user44 holy philosophical caption 🤓
macklincelebrini your whole instagram is flooded with pictures from this vacation ♥︎ liked by author
yourusername correct! that's how it should be
user45 all you need is good vibes and the sun
user46 you deserve this trip for sure, i'm so glad you're enjoying it 💕
yourbffusername take me along next time ♥︎ liked by author
yourusername i'm sorry, i miss you loads
yourbffusername no dw it's not your fault i have exams ♥︎ liked by author
yourusername okayyy i love you 💓
user47 slide 1 was definitely taken by mack
user48 i'm soooo jealous 😍
macklincelebrini spring break was lit 🔥🔥
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user49 OHHH I KNEW IT
user50 hockeytwt is about to explode 🤐
user51 ok everyone who said that y/nmack were just friends... waiting to hear your apologies...
user52 congratulations!!!! 🎉🎉
user53 i didn't even know y/n and mack were like that
user54 i mean the signs were there 😮💨
user55 10 years in the making!!
yourusername i got a best friend who i think is hot ♥︎ liked by author
macklincelebrini right back at you, beautiful
user56 OH. I'M SICK TO MY STOMACH. STOP BEING SO CUTE. 😭😭
user57 this post better be pinned ♥︎ liked by author
summary: the elevator brought them together. the hallway kept them close. and somewhere between bedtime stories and soft smiles, they fell in love - careful, quiet, and just right.
scissors, glue, and something she couldn't finish | mc71
up with you au | requests are open/closed
word count: 1.0k
warnings: mother’s day project, classroom crafts, and a little girl realizing some questions don’t have easy answers - very soft, very quiet, might hurt a little in the chest
the classroom is louder than it usually feels.
not chaotic.
just… full.
paper rustling, kids talking over each other, scissors snipping, glue sticks rolling off desks.
normal.
but not to her.
charolette sits at her little table, hands folded in her lap instead of working.
in front of her -
pink construction paper.
a half-cut heart.
and a worksheet that says:
“all about my mom”
she hasn’t written anything.
not a word.
mrs. thomas kneels beside her, voice gentle, “do you want help, char?”
she shakes her head.
“…no.”
but her fingers twist together tighter.
around her, kids are talking.
“my mom likes coffee.”
“my mom is the best cooker ever.”
“i’m gonna give mine flowers!”
it’s not loud.
not mean.
just… constant.
char stares at the paper.
then down at her hands.
then back at the paper again.
“…i don’t know what to write,” she whispers.
mrs. thomas softens, “that’s okay. we can think together - who takes care of you at home?”
char’s throat feels tight, “...my dad”
“okay,” the teacher says gently, “we can write about him if you want -”
char shakes her head quickly.
too quickly.
“…no.”
because that’s not it.
it doesn’t feel right.
her eyes start to sting.
she presses her lips together, hard.
tries to blink it away.
but it doesn’t go away.
“…everyone has moms,” she whispers.
and it’s not a question.
mrs. thomas pauses.
just for a second.
then shifts closer.
“families can look different,” she says softly.
char nods.
she knows that.
she does.
but -
her chest still hurts.
“…i don’t know what to make,” she says, smaller now.
her hands are starting to shake just a little.
mrs. thomas notices.
“hey,” she murmurs, “we don’t have to finish this right now, okay?”
but char just stares at the paper.
because if she doesn’t finish -
then what does that mean?
her breathing gets uneven.
small.
quick.
“char?” mrs. thomas says gently.
but she’s already overwhelmed.
not crying loud.
not making a scene.
just… shutting down.
quiet.
too quiet.
---
the call comes mid-afternoon.
you’re the one who answers.
“hi, this is charlotte’s teacher…”
your stomach drops instantly.
“is everything okay?” you ask, already standing.
“she’s okay,” mrs. thomas reassures quickly, “she’s just a little overwhelmed today. we were working on a mother’s day project and -”
that’s all it takes.
you close your eyes for half a second.
“…we’ll come get her,” you say softly.
mack is already grabbing his keys.
he didn’t even need to hear the whole thing.
---
the classroom is quieter now when you arrive.
most of the kids are still working.
heads down.
focused.
char is sitting off to the side.
not crying.
just… still.
small.
your chest tightens immediately.
“hey, princess,” you murmur, crouching in front of her.
her head lifts.
and the second she sees you -
her face crumples.
not loud.
just… that silent kind of cry.
she stands and walks into you, arms wrapping around your neck.
tight.
you hold her instantly.
“i’ve got you,” you whisper, pressing your cheek to her hair.
mack stands close, one hand coming to her back, rubbing slow circles.
“hey, peanut,” he murmurs.
she doesn’t answer.
just buries herself deeper into you.
the teacher gives you a small, apologetic look.
you nod.
it’s okay.
you understand.
---
the car ride is quiet.
char sits in the back, clutching the sleeve of your hoodie you gave her before leaving.
you turned around in your seat just to reach her.
your hand still resting lightly on her knee.
mack keeps glancing in the mirror.
every few seconds.
just checking.
---
by the time you get home, she’s calmer.
but still quiet.
still thinking.
you sit with her on the couch, pulling her gently into your side.
she goes without hesitation.
tucks herself in like she always does.
mack sits on the other side, close.
steady.
“do you wanna tell us what happened?” you ask softly.
she shrugs.
“…we had to make something.”
you nod, “for mother’s day?”
she nods.
“…i didn’t know what to do.”
your chest aches.
mack’s hand comes to her back again.
slow.
grounding.
“that makes sense,” mack says gently, “that’s a hard thing to figure out.”
she nods, staring down at her hands.
“…everyone was talking about their moms,” she whispers.
you don’t interrupt.
you let her say it.
“…and i didn’t know what to say.”
your hand tightens just slightly around hers.
“yeah,” you murmur, “that would feel really confusing.”
there’s a pause.
then -
“…can i make one for you?” she asks.
so quiet.
like she’s not sure she’s allowed.
your breath catches.
completely.
you look at her.
really look at her.
“…only if that’s what you want,” you say softly.
you don’t take it.
don’t assume.
just offer.
mack is watching you like he’s holding his breath.
char looks up at you.
eyes still a little glassy.
“…i want to,” she says.
and that’s it.
that’s everything.
you nod slowly, your hand coming up to brush her hair back.
“then i would really, really love that,” you whisper.
she nods.
leans into you again.
softer this time.
less overwhelmed.
mack exhales beside you, his hand settling over both of you.
holding.
anchoring.
“…we can help you,” he adds quietly, “if you want.”
she nods again.
and for the first time since you got there -
she looks okay.
not fixed.
but steady.
safe.
understood.
---
later that night, when you help her finish it at the kitchen table -
she writes carefully.
tongue peeking out just a little.
“my mom likes braiding my hair.”
you have to look away for a second.
because your vision blurs too much to read the rest.
in honour of connor bedard extension I would like to point out that 3/6 of the photos on his insta dump are from him helping kids. most players post highlight photos of them in gear, or with teammates, which connor did, but literally half of his photos are about the community.
and that's just so on brand for everything I know about him? its all of the every shift clips where he's awkwardly ribbing at the kids because he wants to make convo but doesn't know how ("actress? like best looking actress?" like come ON). it's the way that he's mentioned giving his number to macklin celebrini and gavin mckenna to talk about 1oa stuff, and mack mentioned talking to connor about contract stuff during his exit interview (8:34 timestamp). it's the way that connor and fraser minten visited mavrik (a 3yo who had neuroblastoma) to cheer him up because his family said he loved nhl players. its the way that there's endless photos and videos of him stopping and signing things, even if he looks tired, especially for kids. that one vid where he's walking down the tunnel and all the kids in his jersey are reaching out for him? the way he was always playing around with fliggy's kids?
idk idk idk but what i'm saying is that i bet that when he was younger, someone told him that he should be grateful for what he has, and he really took it to heart. he doesn't take hockey for granted; he always wants to practice (read: that article where he was begging to get back on the ice after jaw surgery). his first words after he got drafted were "thank you, i love you" to his family. he's always trying to take up a mentorship position and share his knowledge. and he. loves. kids.
and I love that about him. I love that he likes being taken care of, and that in turn, he likes taking care of others. I love that he wants to have that responsibility, and that he takes it seriously. I love that he's on my team. its easy to be a blackhawks fan when he's there to support and I'm so glad we get him for 5 more years. he's gonna be captain one day, and this post is just a small shred of proof that he's gonna be really, really good at it. happy extension, connor, I'm proud to be your fan :D
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summary: will's quiet protectiveness over you begins to make you feel as though he's more than a friend.
warnings: will getting injured, friends to lovers, reader being a butterfingers/clumsy, bit of language
wc: 2.89k
notes: i can't get over will just automatically protecting you from things and just knowing you're going to bump your head or drop something.
Will had silently taken on the role of guardian against your own clumsiness.
As he got to know you, Will observed your accident-prone habits — the way you would unknowingly leave cabinet doors open at forehead level, how your phone always seemed to be on the verge of slipping from your grasp, and the countless times you misjudged the distance between your toe and the corner of the coffee table. He adapted in subtle, almost imperceptible ways, weaving his quiet vigilance into the rhythm of daily life.
At first, it was little things. He’d casually nudge a cup away from the table’s edge when you weren’t looking or intercept your phone mid-fall with reflexes so swift it seemed like a coincidence. If you were carrying too many things at once, he’d wordlessly take the heavier items from your hands before you had the chance to protest — or inevitably drop something.
Over time, his protective instincts became second nature. He walked slightly ahead of you when you were distracted, steering you gently away from uneven pavement or sudden steps. He started keeping a steadying hand near your back when you climbed stairs, ready to catch you if your balance faltered. Whenever you cooked, he subtly repositioned knives and hot pans out of your unknowing danger zone, and if you reached for something on a high shelf, he was already there, retrieving it before you had the chance to teeter on your tiptoes precariously
Even his speech patterns adjusted. A soft “watch your step” would precede any tricky curb, and a quiet “careful” would slip from his lips whenever you absentmindedly swung your arms too close to a fragile object. He never made a big deal out of it, never teased or sighed in exasperation. He simply adapted — anticipating, adjusting, protecting.
And perhaps the most telling thing of all was how effortless it became for him. As if watching over you wasn’t a responsibility, but rather something as natural as breathing.
At first, you didn’t think much of it. Will was observant by nature, careful in a way that contrasted your absentminded chaos, so his small interventions felt like an extension of who he was rather than something particular to you. But then, you began to notice — really notice.
Like the way he always positioned himself between you and the street when you walked together, his body a quiet barrier against the rush of passing cars. Or the way he would always get the door for you, seeing as you always get it wrong — pulling it when it’s a push, or pushing it when it’s a pull, which always resulted in you smacking into the door.
It wasn’t just his actions, but the way they made you feel. Safe. Not in the dramatic, swept-off-your-feet kind of way, but in the quiet, steady assurance that came with knowing someone was looking out for you — not because they had to, but because they wanted to.
And that was the thing about Will. He never laughed when you tripped over nothing or sighed when you dropped your phone for the millionth time, resulting in a new crack on your screen. He didn’t roll his eyes when you forgot where you put your keys for the third time in a day. Instead, he’d hand them to you with a soft “found them,” and a small, knowing smile that never held an ounce of exasperation.
The realization crept in slowly, unfurling in the space between his gestures and your awareness of them. You started looking forward to the little moments — the quiet steadiness of his presence, the way he never made you feel like a burden, never made your clumsiness into a punchline.
And then, one evening, it hit you.
Will and Macklin were set to go to a Warriors game, but last minute the younger Shark bailed on him in favour of a date. Will, not wanting to skip the game, asked you if you wanted to come. Basketball was never your chosen sport of interest, but you knew how badly Will wanted to go, so you agreed.
You were sitting in front of your vanity, curling wand in hand, rushing to finish your hair. Will was standing next to you, arms crossed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he huffed dramatically. “How long does it take to curl hair? I mean, we’re gonna miss tip-off at this rate.”
“Relax, we have plenty of time,” you said distractedly. For Will, it was like it happened in slow motion. He watched as your hand went to grab the curling iron, only to be reaching for the barrel instead of the handle. His hand darted in before yours, grabbing the barrel and pulling it out of your grasp.
Will only realized what he had done when it was too late, the burning sensation seeping into his skin. His face contorted in pain as he pulled his hand back sharply, letting out a sharp, involuntary scream. You turned in alarm, dropping the curling wand onto the vanity as you watched him clutch his hand, the raw redness already starting to form across his palm.
“What the hell, Will?” you shouted, the surprise and panic evident in your voice. You stood up, your hands trembling as you instinctively reached for his hand, wanting to help but not sure how. “Why the fuck did you grab my curling wand?”
He grimaced, his teeth gritted, but he managed a strained chuckle, his voice laced with guilt. “You were about to burn yourself,” he said simply as if that explained everything.
You blinked, momentarily stunned. You hadn’t even realized what had happened until he had grabbed the hot barrel. You’d been so caught up in finishing your hair, your mind swirling with thoughts of getting to the game, that you hadn’t even noticed your near mishap.
“You saw that?” you asked, your voice softer now, the edge of anger replaced with surprise. “You noticed I was about to—?”
He winced, clearly trying to mask the pain, but there was a hint of warmth in his eyes. “Of course I did,” he said quietly. “You do that a lot. Always rushing, not paying attention.” He gave a small shake of his head, looking almost apologetic. “I don’t know. It just… it’s instinct, I guess.”
You stared at him, trying to process his words. Will had always been observant, but this was something else entirely — a silent, steady vigilance that you’d never fully understood. He’d always been there, quietly anticipating your missteps, but you hadn’t realized just how much of it was rooted in a kind of protective instinct.
Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his expression, the way he held his injured hand close to his body, still trying to hide his discomfort for your sake.
You guided him carefully toward the kitchen, your heart pounding with a mixture of concern and confusion. He let you lead him, his steps slow as he held his injured hand away from his body like it was too fragile to touch anything. Once you reached the sink, you turned on the cold water, the rush of it filling the air.
Will stood beside you, watching you with a calmness that made your chest tighten with guilt. You helped him ease his hand under the water, the cold liquid hissing as it met the burn. He flinched for just a second, but then the chill seemed to soothe him, and he let out a soft breath, his eyes closing for a brief moment.
You reached over to gently hold his wrist, guiding it more carefully into the stream of water. The contact was subtle but felt significant—your fingers wrapping around his, steadying him as the water washed away the heat. There was an odd intimacy to the moment, something quietly tender in the way you were taking care of him, something that made your heart thud louder than it had any right to.
“How did you know?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual as you glanced at him, your eyes searching for answers. “How did you know I was going to grab the barrel?”
Will didn’t immediately respond, his gaze still focused on his hand, the water dripping off his fingers. He shrugged, his lips twitching into a faint, almost apologetic smile. “I just saw it coming,” he said, his voice low. “You were distracted, reaching for something hot. I… I could just tell.”
His gaze flickered toward you then, catching your eyes for the briefest of moments. “You’ve got a tendency to forget, y’know,” he added.
You couldn’t help but shake your head, a laugh escaping you that was both incredulous and full of affection. “You always seem to notice these things. It’s like you’re… watching me.”
Will’s expression shifted, something unspoken flashing in his eyes. He didn’t say anything at first, just staring down at his hand under the water. He didn’t seem to want to elaborate, but you could feel the weight of his silence. It wasn’t just concern you were sensing now; it was something deeper, something that made your heart flutter uncertainly in your chest.
“Why do you always notice?” you pressed gently, not quite sure where the question was leading but needing to understand. “It’s like you’re always one step ahead, always catching things before I do.”
Will’s shoulders shifted under the weight of your question, and he let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh. “I don’t know,” he said after a beat, his words almost too soft to catch. “I guess… I guess I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
There it was. The reason behind the actions that had always seemed so natural to him, so effortless. Will was watching, not just because he could, but because he cared. It wasn’t just observation — it was protection. He had quietly, unknowingly taken on the role of your guardian in a way that you had never even noticed.
He cared.
The weight of that simple, unspoken confession made your stomach flip, but before you could fully process it, something impulsive and raw surged up inside you. You closed the distance between you and Will, your heart racing with an intensity that felt as though it could pull you apart. In an instant, before either of you could think it through, you kissed him.
The shock hit both of you at the same time — his breath catching in his throat as your lips met his, both of you stilling for a moment, like the world had suddenly paused. The soft warmth of his mouth against yours was everything you didn’t expect but everything you needed. And just as quickly, the fear of what you’d just done flooded in.
You pulled away, wide-eyed, the breath between you ragged. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry—what the hell was that?” you stammered, a forced chuckle leaving your lips. Your face heated up as you scrambled to explain. “I—I don’t know what came over me. You just… I don’t know. I just—” You trailed off, unable to form the words to explain how his quiet care had wrapped itself around you, how you felt like the luckiest person alive just to be near him, to have him protect you without ever making you feel like a burden.
“I—I was just so touched, Will. By everything you’ve done, the way you look out for me. You’re—” Your voice faltered, the words feeling clumsy as you tried to express what you were feeling. “You’re one of the only people who doesn’t make fun of me for being so… clumsy. For being me.”
You stared down at your hands, suddenly embarrassed by the vulnerability of the confession.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the soft sound of your breathing, mingled with the sound of the water still running. Then, before you could continue apologizing or retreating into a wave of mortification, Will cut you off.
He leaned forward, dipping his head down so his lips could brush against yours again. The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, but quickly deepened, and all the awkwardness from before melted away. His hand found its way to your cheek, his fingers warm and sure as they cupped your face, the gesture filled with a softness that made your chest ache.
You both pulled away again, your breath mingling together in the small gap of space that remained between you two. The air was thick, not with tension, but with the words that had yet to be said.
His voice was low and slightly rough as he spoke, the words a whisper that seemed to settle between the two of you, making everything feel incredibly intimate. “I don’t know why I do it,” he said, his thumb tracing the edge of your cheek as if he were trying to memorize the feeling of you. “But every time I see you about to get hurt — whether it's something big or small — there’s this… this urge to protect you. To make sure you’re okay. It’s just… instinct, I guess, like you said.” He paused, his eyes flickering over your face, searching, before his gaze softened. “But it’s more than that. It’s not just about keeping you safe. It’s about… caring.”
Your heart thundered in your chest at his confession, and for a moment, you were speechless. You had always known there was something different about the way Will looked after you, but hearing it from him, in his own words, made it all the more real.
“Will…” you started, your voice trembling just slightly, unsure if your own feelings could measure up to the tenderness he was offering. You took a deep breath before continuing. “I—I care about you too. More than I’ve ever let myself admit.” Your hands found their way to his shirt, the fabric beneath your fingers grounding you in the present. “The way you protect me, it’s not just that you’re looking out for me. It’s that… it’s that you make me feel seen. You make me feel like I’m not… a nuisance. Like you actually want to be here. I’ve never felt that way with anyone else.”
There was a pause, just long enough for your words to hang in the air between you. Will’s gaze softened, his uninjured hand leaving your cheek to rest over yours, gently prying your fingers away from his shirt only to intertwine them with his own.
“You’re not a nuisance,” he said, his voice steady, but his eyes held something deeper, something more raw. “I want to be here, with you. Not just for your clumsiness, not just to catch you when you fall. But because…” He swallowed, the words suddenly feeling heavier on his tongue. “Because I’ve been falling for you too. And I don’t want to stop.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and your chest tightened with a mix of relief and disbelief. All of the moments — the small gestures, the quiet care — suddenly made sense. Will had been there, not just as your protector, but as someone who had quietly, unknowingly, built a foundation for something more.
“I didn’t think you’d feel the same,” you whispered, your voice vulnerable. “I thought maybe I was just… someone you looked after. But I want this too, Will. I want… us. If you’re still okay with that.”
Will’s smile was soft and sincere, and there was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter. He gently cupped your face again, pulling you closer as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before speaking again.
“I’m more than okay with that,” he said, his voice steady, now filled with a quiet confidence.
You looked up at him, leaning in to connect your lips once again. But just as the kiss deepened, Will’s hand moved instinctively, like it had so many times before, to cup your face. Only this time, something was different. The faint sting of his burn flared as his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your cheek, and he pulled back with a sharp inhale, wincing slightly.
“Fuck, that still hurts.” he hissed, his hand withdrawing from your face. Will shook his hand as if that would make the pain magically fall away.
“Who’s the clumsy one now?” you said, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of your lips, trying to break any remaining tension between you two.
Will chuckled, though the pain in his hand still lingered. His eyes softened, a quiet amusement flickering across his features as he met your gaze. “Guess it’s me,” he said, his voice light, yet full of affection.
You couldn’t help but smile back, the warmth between you both settling into something easy and comfortable. The air that had once been thick with unspoken words now felt clear and open. The kiss, the confessions — everything was still fresh, but it was right, in a way that neither of you could deny.
“I think we should get to that game before either of us ends up more injured than we already are,” you teased, a playful spark in your eyes.
Will grinned, his usual protective instinct settling back in as he offered you his good hand. “Let's go,” he said, squeezing your hand.
And as you both walked out the door together, the world felt a little less dangerous.
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