OVER 1.1K LIKES FOR THIS BULLSHIT, THE ART IS SO ASS đđđ MAMAS IM BETTER THAN THIS
Edit 2: almost 2.7k??? FUCKING INSANEđđ LUV U GUYS

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OVER 1.1K LIKES FOR THIS BULLSHIT, THE ART IS SO ASS đđđ MAMAS IM BETTER THAN THIS
Edit 2: almost 2.7k??? FUCKING INSANEđđ LUV U GUYS

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turtle neck season
i love going out đ¤
let em talk WS2
summary: social media is finally getting to Y/N. theyâre hating on her, saying bad things about her, and she canât do anything but believe them. when will notices he talks to her
requests: open
masterlist
By the time Will Smith finally stepped into the quiet of his apartment, the weight of the day followed him inside like a shadow he couldnât shake. Practice had run long, the media had lingered longer, and his phoneâbuzzing nonstop in his pocketâfelt heavier than any piece of equipment heâd worn on the ice.
Y/N was already there.
She sat on the couch with her knees pulled in, laptop closed but phone glowing in her hands. The TV was on, muted, some late-night sports recap flashing highlights of Willâs last game. She wasnât watching it.
Will didnât need to ask to know what was wrong.
He set his keys down slowly, like any sudden sound might break her further.
âHey,â he said gently.
She looked up, trying to smile, and failing halfway through. âHi.â
That single word told him everything.
Will crossed the room and sat beside her, close but careful, his presence steady rather than overwhelming. He glanced at her phone screen before she turned it face-down on the cushion.
He didnât need to read it. He already knew.
Social media had been relentless lately.
At first, it had been subtleâside comments, jokes disguised as opinions. Then it became louder. Crueler. People dissecting Y/Nâs life as if she were a character instead of a person. Questioning why Will was with her. Accusing her of chasing attention. Blaming her for losses she had nothing to do with.
Sheâd tried to ignore it.
Sheâd tried to be strong.
Tonight, it had finally cracked through.
âThey hate me,â she said quietly, staring at the floor.
Will exhaled through his nose, jaw tighteningânot at her, but at the faceless crowd behind those screens.
âNo,â he said. âThey donât know you.â
She gave a short, humorless laugh. âFeels the same.â
Will leaned back, rubbing his hands together the way he did when he was thinking hard. âYou know what they hate?â
She looked at him.
âThat you donât fit the story they already made up in their heads.â
Y/N didnât answer. Her shoulders were tense, like she was bracing for another hit.
He continued anyway.
âThey think they own my life because they watch me play hockey twice a week. They think that means they get a vote on who I care about.â He shook his head. âThatâs not how it works.â
She finally looked at him then. âIt still hurts.â
âI know,â he said softly. âAnd Iâm not gonna pretend it doesnât.â
Will reached for her phoneânot to take it, just to turn it over so the screen faced down, completely dark.
âYou remember that song I was playing in the car the other day?â he asked.
She nodded slowly. âThe Ty Myers one.â
âYeah. âLet âEm Talk.ââ
A faint smile tugged at her mouth despite herself.
Will smiled too, just a little. âThat line stuck with me. Not because itâs easyâbut because itâs true.â
He met her eyes, voice steady.
âPeople are always gonna talk. Especially when they donât understand something. Especially when theyâre bored.â
She swallowed. âI didnât think I was strong enough to deal with it.â
âYou donât have to be strong all the time,â Will said. âThatâs my job too.â
The silence between them wasnât awkward. It was heavyâbut shared.
Y/N leaned back into the couch, staring at the ceiling. âI didnât sign up for this.â
Will let out a short laugh. âNeither did I. You think I wanted strangers analyzing my facial expressions after a bad shift?â
That earned him a real smile this time.
âThey said I looked âemotionally unstableâ last week,â he added. âBecause I blinked too much in an interview.â
She shook her head. âThatâs ridiculous.â
âExactly.â
Will leaned forward, elbows on his knees. âLook, when I was younger, I thought if I just played better, people would be nicer. Took me way too long to realizeâsome people donât want to be nice. They want noise.â
She sat up straighter. âSo what do we do?â
He didnât hesitate.
âWe live our lives anyway.â
The next morning, the noise hadnât stopped.
If anything, it had grown.
A photo of Will and Y/N leaving a restaurant the night before had gone viral overnight. Comment sections were floodedâsome supportive, many not. The same tired arguments recycled by different usernames.
Will scrolled through it once. Then locked his phone.
At practice, his teammate nudged him lightly. âYou good?â
Will nodded. âYeah.â
And he wasâbecause he knew exactly where he stood.
After practice, reporters crowded him as usual.
âWill, how do you respond to fans saying your personal life is distracting you from the game?â
He didnât miss a beat.
âI donât,â he said calmly. âBecause my personal life isnât up for debate.â
The clip spread fast.
Y/N watched it from the kitchen, hands wrapped around a mug sheâd forgotten to drink from. Her chest tightenedânot from fear this time, but from something warmer.
â
That night, when Will came home, she met him at the door.
âTheyâre talking again,â she said.
He smiled, easy and unbothered. âLet âem.â
She laughed, really laughed, the sound lighter than it had been in days.
âYouâre serious,â she said.
âDead serious.â
He rested his forehead briefly against hersânot dramatic, not performative. Just grounding.
âThey donât get to write our story,â he said. âWe do.â
And for the first time since the noise had started, Y/N believed it.
Because the truth was simple.
The loudest voices didnât know her.
Didnât know them.
Didnât matter.
So they let them talk.
This time of the year I really need a cuddle buddy

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.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
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