#mc71 x reader

“Ask Aiden.” He says, and you chuckle as you feel him pull you even closer.

“He told me to ask you.”

“Tell him to go first, I’ve got to warm myself up for tubing.” Mack says, and you nearly let out an obnoxious laugh.

“Warm up? You’re twenty years old.” You say with a bit of sarcasm.

“And if I sleep funny my back hurts for three days.” Mack counters, and you roll your eyes.

Your gaze slips to RJ, the youngest sibling full of hope that someone will go tubing with him.

“I’ll go with you if you want.” You say, and RJ basically lights up as he nods going to tell Rick who is sitting at the wheel.

“You don’t have to.” Mack says immediately, watching as you grab a hair tie out of your bag.

“I know.” You say, smiling at him. “I want to.”

“Stop trying to talk her out of it.” RJ scolds his older brother, as he goes to the back of the boat.

“I’m trying to spare her.” Mack says, watching RJ.

“From fun?” RJ asks.

“From you.” Mack retorts, and RJ shoves him slightly.

“Alright, alright.” You say, leaving Macklin’s sun tanned chest and making your way to the back of the boat.

You and RJ joke around as Rick gets everything set up, and as you plop down on the tube with your boyfriend’s little brother, you catch Mack’s gaze. You give him a questioning look, but he just stares at you. Mack had continuously told you to please be careful, which you told him you will be, and you can still see the slight concern in his eyes. But you trust Rick, and you know he won’t let his son get injured.

“Oh my god she’s fine!” RJ yells, and Macklin secretly flips him off in that older brother way. You chuckle lightly as you give Rick a thumbs up.

Cold lake water sprays up, hitting you and RJ as you both laugh. Rick, to RJ’s dismay, is driving carefully. You guys still whip side to side fast enough to crash into each other, but your hands stay gripping the handles, and your bodies are snug against the back of the tube.

You can see Mack’s face, and his smile, and as he watches you, you feel electric. He laughs as RJ bounces high enough that he loses contact with the tube for a moment, and he smiles as he can hear your laugh.

“He’s disgusting with you!” RJ exclaims as Rick swings you guys to the right, and you scoff as you reach over the side of the tube and splash a small handful of water at him. He just laughs and laughs.

“I’ll remember this when you bring somebody home.” You say, and RJ smirks in a ‘I know something you don’t know’ way. And your ability to read people cause you to gasp. “RJ Celebrini…. what are you hiding, or should I say who?” You say, and he just shakes his head.

From the boat, Mack can’t hear that you two are talking about, but he leans near the back watching intently. RJ has always welcomed you from the second he met you, and honestly sometimes Mack believes he prefers you over him. Not that Mack minds much, but all of his family loves you. His brothers, who tease him relentlessly, his sister who texts you probably more than three times a day about everything, and his parents who now see you as a daughter.

So when a boat came ripping around the lake, it wasn’t only Macklin’s heart that freezes, it’s the entire families.

One second you and RJ are laughing together, and the next a speedboat is coming close, way too close.

“Dad.” Mack says, his eyes focused solely on the tube with two of his favorite people on it. Two of his favorite people, who for some reason aren’t wearing life jackets. What had happened that nobody noticed it? What had happened that in all his worrying before you got on the tube that he didn’t notice you didn’t have that extra layer of protection?

Was it because he knew his dad wouldn’t flip you guys? Was he so distracted by you that he just completely forgot?

But he watches as you notice the boat, he watches as his dad goes straight spined and he listens as his mom starts repeating his dad’s name over and over again.

“Dad!” Macklin shouts again, but he knows there’s physically nothing his father can do. There’s no way to avoid the waves the speedboat is making, and if Rick tries to swing you guys out of it he’s going to make it worse.

“I see it Macklin.” Rick says, not trying to scold his son but he is nervous as well.

Then, Mack notices you noticing, and Macklin finds himself yelling at you both. He doesn’t know what he says, but he can only watch in fear as the tube hits the wake, and flies.

“RJ.” You say, knowing there’s only a couple of seconds before you guys are going to hit the waves.

“What’s-“

“RJ hold on!” You yell, right before you both get launched high, both of your grips slipping as you plummet into the water.

—

Macklin watches as you both crash into the water, the sound making him want to vomit over the side of the boat.

“RICK!” Robyn yells, her hands flying over her mouth.

But his dad is already turning the boat, immediately heading to where you both fell.

“Mom.” Aiden says, as the tube is settled back on the water, but there is no sign of either of you.

“THERE!” Charlie yells, pointing to you, and Mack wheezes as he sees you. You’re coughing, you’re frantic, and you’re scanning. Scanning the water for his little brother. You’re not responding as the entire family yells at you to stay there, it’s like you don’t even notice them.

“Oh my god.” Macklin chokes, and he starts yelling both of your names. The fear of how long you’ve both been under the water making him reach for his shirt and ripping it off as he’s about to jump in.

“Y/N!” Macklin screams at you, and he sees the way you’re swimming, sees the way something is wrong. But then relief floods his veins as he sees another head surface. His little brother looking to the sky as you yell for him, and immediately start swimming towards him.

—

For a moment, you’re not sure which way is up. Ice cold water covers every inch of your body, and you choke as water fills your lungs.

But you finally surface, and your training as a nurse kicks in immediately. You gasp as your head is finally above the surfsce, and you cough up water as you tread water.

In this moment there are a million things happening at once, but your only concern was RJ. Your eyes scan the water around you, but you don’t see him. You know he couldn’t have landed too far away from you, and as you continue to tread water, looking around in all directions, the fiery pain in your shoulder hits hard.

You cry out, and instantly sink down a bit in the water as you stop using it. And just when you’re about to start screaming, a head pops up, and you immediately start moving.

Your shoulder be damned, the screams and yells of the rest of the Celebrini family be damned. The way your lungs burn and the way the left side of your body basically feels frozen be damned.

You just swim.

RJ is floating on his back, you can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest, but even from here you can tell how pale he is.

“RJ.” You say, as you finally make it to him. You are careful not to move him as you scan his features.

His eyes are look tired, and his entire face looks sluggish.

You know immediately from your time in the ER that he has a concussion, but your next steps are to figure out how bad.

“RJ, RJ can you hear me?” You ask him, your hand going under his arms to keep him up.

“Yeah.” He says after a long moment, and the relief of that doesn’t stay long as his voice is sluggish as well.

“You’re okay.” You say instantly, your nurse voice slipping out. “Can you tell me what hurts?” You ask him.

He groans slightly before saying, “Everything.”

“Your head, RJ.” You say as the boat finally gets close enough to the two of you. “How’s your head?”

“Hurts.” He says, and you just nod, your gaze flying to the boat.

Macklin is immediately jumping off, Aiden and Rick rushing to the back of the boat. It takes almost no time for Macklin to reach you both, and when you finally look at him you see the fear in his normally light eyes.

“He needs to go to a hospital.” You say, trying to keep your voice calm.

You can tell Macklin’s mind is going a thousand miles a minute. You can tell that he’s flying in between his very pale and off looking brother and you who is barely using your left side.

But Mack nods, carefully bringing you both into him.

“Okay, I’ve got you guys.” He says, and he’s never been so thankful for hockey in his entire life as he uses the muscles in his legs to get you guys closer to the boat.

“RJ first.” You say, and Rick and Aiden nod on the boat as you slowly unlatch your arm from the boy, and help hand him over to Mack. “Keep him as still as you can.” You say, hissing slightly as one of RJ’s arms hits your shoulder.

Mack’s eyes immediately jump to you, and you shake your head because how you’re doing is on the bottom of your priority list.

But it’s not on the bottom of Mack’s. With one arm he pulls you into him, with the other he presses on RJ’s back as Aiden and Rick pull him on the boat.

You watch as Robyn covers him with a towel, and they get him laid down on the seats of the boat.

“Baby, baby look at me.” Macklin begs, and you do. Your wide eyes staring into his. He can almost see the one half of your brain panicking, while the other half is in nurse mode. That calm collected state you get into.

“Can you move your shoulder?” He asks, noticing how limp your left arm now is.

“It hurts.” You say, and Macklin’s heart seizes as the sound of the pain in your voice. “I think it’s dislocated. But I think RJ has a concussion. We’ve got to get him in as fast as we can.” You say, and of course you are more worried for him than you are for yourself. It’s one of the many reasons Macklin loves you as much as he does.

“We’re getting you both in.” Mack says, looking up as Rick and Aiden make it back to the edge of the boat.

“Pull from her right side, don’t touch the left.” Macklin says to his family, and they both nod while readjusting.

Macklin turns you so you’re facing them, and he apologizes over and over as you whimper at the movement.

“I’m so sorry.” He continues to say. “We’ve got to get you up there, hold on for just a second, I’m sorry baby.”

When he finally gets you situated, Aiden reaches down for your right hand, grasping it and your elbow tightly.

“Mack.” He says, because he knows it’s going to hurt to get you up here.

“On three, are you ready?” Macklin asks you, and you nod, bracing yourself.

“One, two, three.” Mack and Aiden say together.

You bite down on a yelp as Aiden pulls you at the same time Macklin pushes you up from the water.

Rick immediately throws a towel around you as he carefully places a hand to your back to help haul you up.

It takes extra time due to the fact no one is willing to touch your left side, and when you are finally kneeling on the boat you cough and gasp.

The pain in your lungs from the water and the pain in your shoulder however are nothing compared to your worry for RJ.

Mack is immediately back on the boat, pulling you gently into him as he gets you to the seats.

“Let me see.” Mack says, and you nod but your eyes go straight to RJ. Mack lightly takes the strap of your bikini and tries to move it off your shoulder and more towards your neck. And although it hurt, your eyes stay transfixed, and you refuse to just sit there as Rick runs to the wheel and you guys are hurrying back to the dock. “Baby-“ Mack says, but you don’t turn.

You move towards Robyn, who is leaning over her youngest son. You’re careful not to push, careful not to interrupt, but you give her a look that has her immediately shaking her head, silently asking for you to help.

“Do you think you can answer some questions for me, bud?” You ask RJ, feeling Mack’s hand on your back to keep you steady against the boats rocking.

“Do I have to?” He asks quietly, and you nod, sniffling slightly. Mack’s hand goes to your back, and it’s killing him knowing he can’t do anything right now to help either of you.

“Please.” You beg him, your voice cracking on the word.

“Ok.” You says, closing his eyes.

“Can you tell me your full name?” You ask him, and he nods but winces, and your hand immediately goes to steady his head. But your left hand barks in the pain at that movement as your left side continues to burn.

“RJ Celebrini.” He mumbles, and you nod.

“Good, good.” You say, watching as Robyn takes over keeping him steady. “Do you know where you are?”

“The lake.”

“What day is it today?”

There was silence for a second, which can be normal, but then it stretched.

Robyn clenches her lips to try to fight back emotions, Charlie grips onto Aiden for comfort, and RJ just look at you.

“Thursday.” He finally mumbles, but the air on the boat shifts.

It’s Monday. In fact RJ was so excited for it to be Monday because that means he has a whole week to relax and hang out.

“Fuck.” You hear Aiden mumble somewhere behind you, and Mack’s hand freezes on your back.

“Is it not?” RJ asks, panic in his voice more than before.

“It’s Thursday today, bud.” You say as calmly as possible. You see the fear flash in his eyes, but Robyn is quickly there to make it better.

Everyone knows he’s got a concussion, after all they are a family filled with sports players. So you smile at him, deciding to give him some space before he’s surrounded by doctors and machines. But as you go to stand up, Mack taking your good side, RJ reaches out.

His hand grips your wrist, his eyes begging you not to go. So you sit back down and let Robyn fuss over the two of you.

“Are you okay?” RJ asks quietly, and you shrug, which was a mistake but you play it off.

“A little banged up, but nothing that can’t be fixed.” You say.

“I’m sorry.” He says, and you instantly frown. Robyn scoots back a bit, allowing you to sit closer to RJ. Mack follows suit behind you. He keeps his body pressed into your back, allowing you to lean backwards.

“There is nothing to be sorry for.” You say kindly but firmly.

You could cry thinking RJ wants to blame himself for this.

“I wanted to go, I forced you to go.”

“Hey.” You say, stopping him. “I wanted to go with you. You didn’t force me, RJ, none of this is because of you. I need you to know that.”

“This isn’t your fault.” Mack says, and you watch as the brothers look at each other. And it’s like they have a silent conversation, but RJ finally settles a bit more.

Mack sits down next to you, bracing your body against his and the boat speeds towards the dock. Every jostle has you clenching your teeth so hard you’re surprised they don’t crack.

But you tell Robyn to keep talking to RJ, Aiden jumping in too and promising his little brother anything he wants to do. Ice cream for dinner? Check. Video games? Check.

But the boy refuses to let you out of his sight, and Mack refuses to let either of you out of his.

“I don’t know whether to try to yell at you or thank you.” Mack says, holding you into him to try and keep you steady.

“He was out there, and I thought,” you start to say, but you find yourself choking on the words. “I thought for a moment he wasn’t going to come back up.”

Tears slip down your eyes, and you can feel the adrenaline crashing in your body.

“When he finally came up, I just, I had to get to him Mack.” You say, and Mack nods. Nods because if that was him he would have done the same thing. Nods because after all this time he knows RJ might as well be your little brother too.

“You are never tubing again.” Mack says, and you chuckle but wince at the movement. “Careful baby.” Mack says quickly, noticing the pain that crosses your face.

“Give it a few months and this whole thing will be a distant memory.” You say, trying to joke instead of cry.

But Mack doubts he’ll ever move past this. Doubts that this is going to be something he’ll forget in the matter of months. How could he? His little brother, the woman he loves, the sickening smack of both of your bodies against the water. And the fear, the chest tightening fear as it took you both too long to surface.

“Y/N?” You hear your name, whispered from RJ.

You turn more towards him immediately, instantly forgetting your own injury as you move, causing Mack to reach out to try and keep you still.

“What’s up, bud?” You ask, giving him a small smile as Robyn uses her hand to block the sun from his eyes.

“I would have swam for you too.” RJ says, and you clench your lips together so hard to keep yourself from crying. The words cause emotions to rise in every member of the family.

And in case Mack needed the incentive, which he really didn’t, but that would have been enough to tell him that he wants to marry you one day. But, being him, he already knows that. In fact, it was RJ who stood in front of him not two days ago and told him that if Mack didn’t marry you that RJ would never speak to him again.

If there was one thing in the world that Macklin hated, it was the way you always called him cute.

Well, hate was a strong word.

Macklin didn’t absolutely hate it when you called him cute. There were times it felt nice, like when you’d scroll through old baby photos his mom had texted you, and you’d coo, “Look at baby Mack, so cute!” He’d duck his head, cheeks burning, but the shyness came with warmth because it was harmless.

Back then, he was still figuring out how to fill out his frame, still the kid everyone babied a little. But now it kind of felt annoying.

He was 19, standing 6’0, carrying 190 pounds of solid muscle that came from endless hours in the weight room and on the ice. He’d bulked up noticeably since his rookie year; broader shoulders, thicker legs, the kind of build that let him drive the net without getting shoved off.

In the 25-26 season, he was already at 29 goals and 54 assists, a Sharks team that finally looked like it had a future because of him. Alternate captain some nights.

He wasn’t a puppy anymore. He was a man who could bench his own bodyweight, who absorbed hits from guys twice his age and still finished checks. He wanted you to see that, and to treat him like the big guy he actually was.

But instead, you kept saying cute.

And the worst part? You said it about everything small and sweet. A puppy trotting by on the sidewalk during your daily walks together? “Aww, so cute!” A kid in a tiny Sharks hat waving at him after a game? “Look how cute that little guy is!” It wasn’t jealousy exactly, he wasn’t competing with dogs or toddlers but it lumped him in with them.

Another worst thing was that you weren’t even dating. If you had been boyfriend, girlfriend, something with labels and night kisses and mornings tangled in sheets; maybe the “cute” thing wouldn’t have landed like a slap every time.

Maybe he could’ve laughed it off, tugged you closer by the waist, murmured something cocky like, “Yeah? Wait ’til you see what else I can do that’s cute,” before proving exactly how not-cute he could be. In that version of things, “cute” would’ve been foreplay, a tease, a private joke between two people who already knew the heat underneath.

But you weren’t dating. You were just you and him: best friends, the girl who’d been there since forever. The one he could show up to unannounced, bruised and moody, and you’d still open the door without hesitation. The one he thought about way too much when the lights were off and the condo was quiet.

Macklin didn’t remember exactly when the feelings had started. Maybe they’d been there all along. Maybe they’d crept in slow when you laughed too hard at his dumb jokes, every time you patched him up after a fight. Either way, he’d been too stupid to name it until it was too loud to ignore.

In your perspective, it was totally harmless. Calling Macklin cute had always felt like the most natural thing in the world, the same as breathing. You never once thought it could hurt him. You’d noticed the way he sometimes turned his face away when the word slipped out, cheeks going pink, jaw tightening just a bit.

But you’d chalked it up to shyness. Macklin was shy in the sweetest ways, when you complimented his new haircut, when you hugged him too long after games, when you caught him staring at you across the room like he’d forgotten how words worked. That flush, that quick duck of his head made your chest ache in the best way. You loved seeing him like that.

You really did think he was cute. Not in a diminutive way, not like you were patting him on the head and calling it a day. Cute in the way his whole face lit up when he scored and he’d do that little fist pump shrug combo like he was surprised he’d done it again. Cute in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, cute in the way he’d sprawl on your couch looking exhausted and impossibly beautiful all at once.

Anytime a new picture of him popped up, you’d stop scrolling and zoom in. His smile, all teeth and triumph, cheeks flushed from adrenaline. Every single one made you melt a little more. There wasn’t a person on the planet who could unravel you like he did. Not with grand gestures, just by being Macklin, by existing in the same space as you, close enough to touch, far enough that you ached with it.

To no one’s surprise, you traveled to Italy with Macklin for the Olympics. He’d known Italy was one of the countries you’d always wanted to visit since high school.

When he made the Team Canada roster, he didn’t hesitate. “Come with us,” he’d said casually. “My family’s going. You can crash in the hotel, I want you there.” His parents had loved the idea; his mom had already booked your room before you could protest.

Tonight was one of those casual evenings. Canada had practice earlier for tomorrow’s quarterfinal; his family had retreated to their rooms after dinner. It was around 7pm, the city lights twinkling outside your window.

You and Macklin were side by side on your hotel bed, backs against the headboard, legs stretched out. He was in gray sweats, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. You had yours open to Pinterest, hunting for new nail inspo for when you got home.

The feed loaded slowly on hotel wifi. Then a photo popped up on your home page: Macklin during warmups, red jersey hugging his shoulders, helmet tilted just so, stick gripped tight. The angle caught the focused set of his jaw, the faint flush on his cheeks from the cold rink, eyes sharp under the visor but with that tiny smile tugging at his mouth.

You gasped out loud. Macklin’s head snapped toward you. “What? Show me.”

“Oh my gosh,” you breathed, already zooming in. “This is the cutest pic I’ve ever seen.”

He leaned over, expecting maybe a photo of kittens or one of those viral baby animal reels you sent him constantly. “Lemme see-”

You turned the screen toward him fully. His eyes landed on the photo of himself, in full Olympic gear, looking every bit the focused sniper who’d been tearing up the tournament. He stared at the screen, then immediately looked back down at his own phone, jaw clenching.

You didn’t notice anything at first. “Mack, that’s such an adorable face expression. Look at your little smile. Like you’re plotting to score the next one.”

He didn’t respond right away, he kept scrolling, thumb moving too fast. “No, it’s not. It’s just another random picture they took of me..”

You nudged his shoulder lightly. “Nooo, it’s my new favorite picture. I’m putting it on one of my home screen widgets.”

“Y/n.” His voice came out low, he didn’t snap; he’d never snap at you but he was annoyed. “Can you just stop?”

You blinked, lowering the phone. “Stop what?”

“Calling it cute. Calling me cute.” He set his phone face down on the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not adorable. It’s just me doing my job.”

“But it is adorable,” you insisted, softer now, confused. “The way your cheeks are pink from the cold, that tiny grin, you look happy. I love it.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, shoulders tense. “That’s the problem. You love the happy, focused puppy version. Not..” He gestured vaguely at himself. “Not anything else.”

“Mack,” you started gently, “I didn’t mean-”

“I know you didn’t.” He cut you off. “But it’s every time like I’m still the kid you met years ago.” He finally looked at you. “I’m not and I don’t want to be that to you.”

Macklin didn’t know what he expected when he said that out loud but he’d carried the words around for so long, that saying them now felt inevitable. He wanted you and maybe this hotel room in Milan, was finally the right time.

You stared at him, eyes wide. “Okay.”

He exhaled, shoulders dropping. You paused, shifting so your knee brushed his. “Then what do you want to be?”

Macklin shrugged, gaze dropping to the space between you. He couldn’t look at you right now. “I don’t know.”

“Tell me, Mack.” Your voice was gentle, coaxing. You reached out, fingers brushing along his jaw lightly.

He shook his head once, catching your wrist in his hand to pull it away before the touch unraveled him completely. His thumb brushed the inside of your wrist. “This is gonna sound stupid, but.. I just want you to think I’m good looking. Not just cute.” He swallowed. “It makes me think you don’t want me the way I want you. And yeah, maybe I’m being an idiot right now, confessing like this in the middle of the freaking Olympics, but-”

“Mack!”

He stopped rambling, eyes snapping up to yours. “Do you really think I don’t find you attractive?”

He shrugged again. “I don’t know. You never say it like that.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Just because I haven’t exactly said the words doesn’t mean I don’t think it.” You moved closer, turning so you were facing each other fully on the bed. You lifted your free hand, fingers gentle under his chin, tilting his face up until he had no choice but to meet your eyes. “If anything, you’re the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen.”

The compliment landed softly, his cheeks flushed deeper, pink creeping up from his neck but this time it wasn’t embarrassment.

You smiled and started to lean in.

He met you halfway and your mouths brushed together. He deepened the kiss as his hand found the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair; yours slid to his shoulder, gripping the soft fabric of his long sleeve. You sucked lightly on his bottom lip, and he made a quiet sound in the back of his throat that sent heat curling through you both.

When you pulled back, both of you were smiling, stupid and breathless and a little dazed.

Macklin’s voice came out rough. “That.. that was nice to hear from you.” He swallowed, thumb brushing your cheek. “I think the same about you.”

You laughed softly, the sound muffled against his skin as you pressed another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Took you long enough to say it.”

“Me?” He huffed, but there was no bite in it. “You’re the one who kept calling me something like it was a personality trait.”

“Maybe it is,” you teased, fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “But handsome fits better.”

Macklin leaned back against the headboard, pulling you with him so your shoulders pressed together. You both settled in, he took your right hand in his, lacing your fingers without thinking, thumb tracing slow circles over your knuckles.

You reached for your phone with your free hand, still open to that photo of him, “You know,” you said, tilting the screen toward him again, “I really might make this my Instagram profile picture.”

He huffed a laugh, glancing at it, then at you. “Yeah, sure. Maybe once we make it official to the public.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh?” You say as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

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The last box finally gets loaded into Will's car and you sigh in relief as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. Moving day is always exhausting, but having your brother and his best friend helping has made it bearable.

"All set?" Will asks, slamming the trunk closed. "Because there's literally no more space in here."

You glance at the back seat, which is packed floor to ceiling with boxes and furniture. "I don't think I can fit back there," you say with a frown.

Macklin leans against the passenger door, his t-shirt clinging to his chest in a way that makes your stomach flutter. "You could sit on my lap," he suggests casually, though there's something unreadable in his eyes. "If you're okay with that?"

Your heart races at the thought. You've had a crush on Macklin for months now, ever since he and Will became teammates. Being this close to him is both thrilling and terrifying.

"Are you sure? I don't want to crush you," you say, suddenly self-conscious about your weight.

Macklin chuckles, a low sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think I can handle it. You weigh less than my warm-up weight."

Will rolls his eyes. "Just get in the car, you two. We've got a lot to do before your apartment is ready."

Macklin slide into the backseat first, then you get in and let him pull you onto his lap. The position is awkward at first and you can't help but shift around, trying to find a comfortable spot that doesn't put too much pressure on him.

"Stop moving so much," Macklin murmurs against your ear, his hands gripping your hips to still your movements.

You freeze, confused by the sudden tension in his voice. That's when you feel it, the hard length pressing against your ass through his jeans. Heat floods your cheeks as you realize you've been grinding against his growing erection.

"Oh," you whisper embarrassed.

Macklin doesn't say anything, just adjusts his grip on your hips. Will starts the car, pulling away from the curb and heading toward your new apartment. Each turn and bump in the road causes you to shift on Macklin's lap, rubbing against his hardness in a way that makes both of you gasp quietly.

Macklin presses his head against your neck, his breath coming in ragged pants against your skin. "You need to stop moving," he whispers, his voice strained. "Or I'm going to lose my mind here."

Instead of stopping, you deliberately grind down against him, unable to resist the temptation. Macklin thrusts up in response, his hips moving instinctively. The friction sends waves of pleasure through you and you can feel yourself growing wetter with each movement.

"Fuck," Macklin whimpers softly in your ear. "I need you so bad."

You glance at Will, who seems focused on the road, oblivious to what's happening right behind him.

Macklin's hands slide from your hips to your waist, pulling you closer as he continues to grind against you. "I can't help it," he breathes, his lips brushing against your neck. "You feel so good."

His words make you tremble with need. You've fantasized about this moment countless times, but never imagined it would happen like this, in a crowded car with your brother just feet away.

Macklin's lips find the sensitive spot behind your ear and he begins to suck gently, marking you as his. You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud. His hands roam your body, tracing curves through your clothes as he continues to thrust against you.

"I'm going to come if we keep doing this," he warns, his voice ragged.

The desperate need in his voice pushes you closer to the edge. You grind down harder, seeking your own release as Macklin's movements become more frantic. His grip tightens on your hips and you can feel him tensing beneath you.

"Fuck," he groans softly against your neck.

You feel the warmth spreading through his jeans as he comes, his body shuddering against yours. The knowledge that you've made him lose control like this sends a fresh wave of arousal through you.

When his breathing evens out, Macklin pulls back slightly, his cheeks flushed. "Sorry about that," he murmurs, gesturing vaguely to his pants.

"Don't be," you whisper back, your own body still humming with unfulfilled need.

Macklin notices your trembling thighs and the frustrated look on your face. "You didn't come, did you?" he asks softly.

You shake your head, too embarrassed to speak.

"Let me help," he says, his hand sliding down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans.

You glance nervously at Will, who's still focused on driving. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Macklin's fingers deftly undo your button and zipper, slipping beneath the fabric to find your slick folds. "Just be quiet," he whispers in your ear. "Can you do that for me?"

You nod, biting your lip as his fingers begin to explore. He finds your clit immediately, circling it with practiced movements that make your toes curl. You have to grip his thigh to keep from crying out.

"So wet for me," Macklin murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "All this time you've been wanting this, haven't you?"

You can only nod again, your body arching into his touch. He slides a finger inside you, then another, stretching you gently as his thumb continues to work your clit. The pleasure builds quickly, intense and overwhelming.

When you feel yourself approaching the edge, Macklin covers your mouth with his free hand, muffling the sounds threatening to escape. "That's it," he encourages softly. "Come for me."

His words push you over and your orgasm crashes through you in powerful waves. Your body convulses against his as pleasure floods your senses, Macklin's fingers working you through every last spasm.

As you come down from your high, Macklin gently removes his hand from your pants, licking your juices from his fingers. The sight makes you blush all over again.

"We're almost there," Will announces, turning onto your street. "Just another block."

“You’ve been weird all week,” he said when he called you one night that you actually picked up. Thank god it was a phone call and not a FaceTime. When he said it he sounded upset, and at that you’d nearly folded but kept yourself together. 

“I’ve just been really busy, Mack, I’m so sorry.” 

Which technically wasn’t a lie, you had been busy. Busy packing your suitcase for the next few weeks (hopefully longer if you could convince him staying at a beach in Europe after the tournament ends is an excellent idea). Busy figuring out layovers and logistics, busy texting Fraser Minten to make sure Macklin wasn’t starting to suspect any surprises. 

But it was all worth it, because now here you are, credentials hanging around your neck, and heart pounding stupidly hard as one of the Team Canada staff quietly lets you through the hallway toward the locker rooms and family area.

“You’re sure he doesn’t know?” the woman asks with a grin.

“He better not,” you answer, “I’ve been making sure through hearing from the other guys on the team.” 

The hallway is quieter than you expected, the tunnel oddly long compared to others you’d been in before. Most of the noise is coming from either down the tunnel or somehow echoing through the concrete walls. 

Most of the noise is coming from media somewhere, occasional laughter from teams, phones ringing and footsteps echoing quickly from the people behind the scenes who keep these events running. 

Your stomach flips nervously as you keep walking, you haven’t seen him in almost three weeks. Properly, that is. All you’ve had recently is blurry FaceTimes, and occasional rushed phone calls. You see the things people have been posting online, him sending you updates about his days off, you doing the same (although most of it was made up for the sake of planning the trip). 

And suddenly you feel ridiculous for being nervous because this is Macklin. Your boyfriend, the person who doesn’t make you this type of nervous anymore. The same boy who falls asleep halfway through movies, and steals your hoodies, and complains dramatically whenever you stop scratching his back.

Even despite all of that, your pulse is racing. 

The staff member points toward the lounge area near the hallway to the locker room, “They should be out in a couple minutes.”

You nod quickly, “Thank you.”

The woman gives you a quick smile, and then she’s off back down the hall, and you’re standing in the family area of the arena, alone.

You smooth your hands nervously over your sleeves, already planning it in your head.

You’re wanting to surprise him, like actually surprise him. So, the plan is: you’ll wait until he walks past, sneak up behind him, hug him but not in a way that’s supposed to scare him, that’s the last thing you want. 

Footsteps echo suddenly around the corner, you hear a chorus of voices talking, laughing, shouting. A few players walk past you, some don’t notice you, some smile and nod in your direction. 

Towards the back of the group you’re met with the smiling face of Fraser Minten, who you were checking in with constantly to make sure Macklin wasn’t suspecting anything. 

He stops in front of you, while people from the team continue walking past. “He stayed back to talk to a few of the coaches, he should be out in a second,” Fraser says. 

“Great,” you tell him, “Thanks again for all the help, I think this whole thing went a lot smoother with an inside source.” 

He laughs at that, “Well I’m happy to have helped. I know he’ll be happier than he’s probably ever been to see you, he’s been moping around the past few hours because you weren’t answering any texts.” 

“I feel a little bad that I started ignoring him almost completely,” you admit.

Fraser shakes his head, “You’ll forget about it when you see him, I’m sure. You want me to stand here and hide you so it’s more of a surprise?” 

The suggestion seems silly, it makes you laugh, but you nod, “That’d actually be great, thanks.” 

So, Fraser moves to block the little corner you’re tucked into, keeping a light conversation with you, while you wait for Macklin to come down the hall. 

After a couple of minutes you hear his voice echoing from the hall, and footsteps getting a little louder. It sounds like he’s still talking to his coaches, about plays, schedules, all the things he keeps filed off in his mind when he’s at an event like this. 

Then he comes into view. You know what he looks like obviously, but seeing him in person after weeks apart feels different somehow. Team Canada gear, hair messy and damp from a shower, face slightly flushed from practice. He’s half-listening to one of his coaches while scrolling through his phone, probably texting you, if you had to guess.

You bite back a smile immediately, Fraser still standing in front of you, pretending to be scrolling on his phone in an attempt to look busy so no one stops to talk to him. 

You wait until he’s almost past you before stepping forward quietly, almost falling into step behind him, ready to touch his shoulders and hopefully make up for all the dry responses and missed calls over the past week and a half. 

Before you can even reach your hand out, his entire body pauses. Not dramatically, he just literally stops walking for a second, and everyone else around him stops too. 

You barely even have time to react before he turns sharply around, facing you. His eyes widen instantly, “What?”

You start laughing immediately, “No way, you just ruined the whole surprise, I was going to—”

He’s already moving before you can finish your sentence. “You are terrible at sneaking up on people,” he says, and then he’s suddenly right there, both hands grabbing your waist as his expression completely breaks open into disbelief.

“You weren’t supposed to know it was me!”

“I know your perfume,” he says like it’s obvious.

You stare at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, it’s that vanilla one, can’t miss it.”

You hit his shoulder lightly, “Macklin!”

He’s grinning now, wide and stunned and happy in a way that makes your chest ache.

“When did you get here?” he asks quickly.

“A few hours ago, really early this morning."

“You flew all the way to Switzerland and didn’t tell me?”

“That was the surprise part, yeah.”

He just looks at you for another second like he still can’t fully believe you’re actually standing in front of him. Then his arms tighten around your waist suddenly and he pulls you fully against him, hard enough that you let out a small laugh.

“Oh my god.”

“You ghosted me for a week,” he mumbles into your hair.

“I was busy orchestrating a surprise.”

“You hung up on me twice.”

“That was for the bit.”

He finally pulls back enough to look at you again, hands still firmly on your waist like he thinks you might disappear if he lets go.

“You’re insane,” he says softly, but there’s so much affection underneath it. You smile, “You missed me.”

“I was becoming miserable.”

You laugh immediately. “I know, Fraser told me.”

“You know what?” he says suddenly, still holding onto your waist, “I almost got genuinely mad at you yesterday.”

You gasp dramatically. “At me? Never.”

“Yes, at you,” he says, laughing now. “You ignored, like, four texts in a row.”

“I was on three separate flights, Mack,” you remind him. 

“You could’ve sent something.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, next time I’m secretly flying internationally to surprise you I’ll make sure my communication is better,” you say sarcastically. 

“Thank you,” he says seriously.

You stare at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet you flew across the world for me,” he quips. 

“That was actually for Fraser, you just happened to be here too.”

From behind him, Fraser immediately points at himself, “See? I told you I was everyone’s favorite.”

Macklin twists around slightly, “Don’t start.”

“You were pouting all week,” Fraser continues, fully ignoring him now. “Every five minutes it was, ‘She’s being weird,’ or ‘Do you think she’s mad at me?’”

Your jaw drops as you look back at Macklin, “You thought I was mad at you?”

“A little bit,” he admits, suddenly looking sheepish. “You kept ending calls early.”

You grin slowly, “Aww.”

“Don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek. 

“I was stressed,” he says. 

“You survived.”

“Barely.”

You laugh again, and it hits you suddenly how much you missed this. Not just seeing him, but this specific kind of ease between you. It’s moments like this that remind you how good you feel just being around him, because he gets you and you get him. He just makes everything better. 

Like now, even while talking, he still hasn’t let go of your waist once.

One of the assistant coaches says something to him from farther down the hall, and Macklin glances over briefly before immediately looking back at you.

“Are you busy right now?” he asks.

You blink. “I flew all the way over here to see you, I didn’t make any individual plans.”

“Okay good,” he says quickly, not catching the joking tone in your voice. He starts pulling you alongside him, “Then you’re coming with me everywhere.”

“Macklin.”

“I’m serious.”

“You have team obligations.”

“Mhm,” he hums, still walking.

“Media, meetings, other stuff probably,” you add. 

“Probably,” he confirms. 

You can’t help laughing, “You’re clingy.”

“I haven’t seen you in three weeks.”

“Okay, that’s fair, but that doesn’t make you less clingy.”

“It actually does.”

Fraser snorts behind you, “No it doesn’t.”

Macklin throws him a betrayed look over his shoulder while you laugh harder.

The team slowly filters around you as everyone heads deeper into the arena, but Macklin keeps you tucked firmly against his side the entire time, one hand still resting at your waist. You glance up at him while he talks briefly with one of the staff members, and for a second you just watch him.

The hoodie with the captain’s C stitched on it, the flushed cheeks from practice, the stupidly soft look in his eyes every time he glances back at you like he still can’t believe you’re actually here.

He catches you staring almost immediately. “What?” he asks.

You answer quickly, “Nothing.”

“That’s a lie.”

You smile, “I just missed you.”

His entire expression softens instantly. Then, quietly, so only you can hear it, he says, “I missed you so bad.”

You lean into him a little more, touched by the sincerity in his voice. Exhaustion is finally catching up to you now that you’ve seen him, it’s like now that your body knows it can relax. Macklin notices immediately, because of course he does.

“You’re tired,” he says softly.

“A little,” you mutter. 

“A little?” He looks horrified. “You look like you’re about to pass out standing up.”

You give him a deadpan look, “Thank you so much.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I know,” you laugh tiredly.

He studies your face for another second before turning toward one of the staff members nearby. “What time do we have to be back tomorrow morning?” he asks her. 

“Not until ten,” she replies. 

Macklin nods once, already deciding something in his head. Then he looks back at you. “Alright well, that means we’re headed out.”

You’re immediately confused, because you thought he had more to do here, “What?”

“You need sleep.”

“But you have things to do.”

“I’m done now.”

“You’re not done now, I saw the schedule they just showed you.”

He shrugs. “I can be done, I’ll just make it up tomorrow.”

You narrow your eyes. “Macklin Celebrini, captain of Team Canada, trying to skip responsibilities?”

He smiles, “Yep.”

You laugh loudly enough that a couple of his teammates glance over, and Macklin just grins at you, looking far too pleased with himself. Then he leans down slightly, forehead brushing yours for a second despite the busy hallway around you.

“C’mon,” he murmurs softly, pulling you in the direction of the exits, “I just want my girl back for a little while.”

⊰══════════════════════⊱

The ride back to the hotel is so quiet and calm that you nearly fall asleep in the car. You’re practically folded into Macklin’s side in the backseat of the team car while the city glows outside the windows in blurry streaks of gold and white. His arm stays looped around your shoulders the entire drive, thumb lazily tracing back and forth against your sleeve like he can’t stop touching you now that you’re finally physically with him again. 

Every few minutes he looks down at you again like he’s double checking you’re here, and that you’re awake.

“You’re staring,” you mumble eventually, eyes half-shut.

“You flew across the world for me,” he says for probably the sixth time in the last hour.

You affectionately roll your eyes, “Yes, Macklin. We’ve established that.”

“I still think that’s insane,” he says with a smile on his face. 

You laugh quietly, too tired to properly argue anymore.

By the time you finally get upstairs and into his hotel room, your body feels incredibly heavy with exhaustion. The second the door shuts behind you, Macklin drops his duffel bag by the wall and immediately turns toward you again.

“Oh baby…” he says softly.

You blink at him, slowly, “What?”

“You’re doing the exhausted blinking thing. You’re tired, tired, huh?”

You smile tiredly as he walks back over, both hands settling on your waist again automatically like they belong there.

“That’s because I’ve been awake for like twenty hours.”

His eyebrows shoot up immediately, “Twenty?”

You wince a little, “Maybe more, can’t remember.”

“Oh my god,” he whispers as his hand comes up to rest on the side of your neck, his thumb running along your jaw. 

“That’s actually insane behavior,” he says, “Maybe next time plan something that’s not going to absolutely drain you.” 

“I had layovers!” you argue. 

“You should’ve tried to sleep on the plane.”

“I can’t sleep good on a plane.”

He hums, “Yeah, I know.” He takes a deep breath, “C’mere.”

Before you can even ask what he means because you’re standing right in front of him, he’s gently taking your backpack off your shoulders and setting it by the door. “You don’t have to take care of me, you know,” you mumble.

“I know,” he says easily, “But I want to.”

You think exhaustion is making you more emotional than usual because suddenly that answer almost makes you tear up. Macklin notices your expression immediately, “What?” he asks carefully, “Something wrong, you okay?” 

“Nothing,” you say quickly, “I’m okay.” 

“That was definitely something.”

You shake your head, smiling a little, “I just missed you.”

His face softens instantly in that way that still catches you off guard sometimes, no matter how long you’ve been together. He reaches for your hand then, intertwining your fingers and tugging you further into the room. “Okay,” he says. “You’re showering, and then you’re sleeping for like twelve consecutive hours.”

You sigh dramatically, “That sounds perfect.”

He laughs quietly under his breath, and pushes you slightly towards the bathroom. 

The shower starts with Macklin practically steering you toward the bathroom by your shoulders while you mumble sleepy complaints the whole way.

“You know I can wash my own hair, right?” you say as he adjusts the water temperature for you.

“Mhm.”

“You’re acting like I’m dying or something.”

“You haven’t slept in like a full day,” he argues, stepping into the steam with you. “Just let me take care of you for five minutes.”

Honestly, you’re too tired to fight him on it, so you let him.

You let him pull you gently against his chest under the warm water, letting him carefully work shampoo through your hair while your eyes drift shut. His fingers massage slowly against your scalp, gently, and the entire time he keeps one hand steady at your waist like he’s afraid your exhausted body might just tip over.

You hum sleepily. “Feels nice.”

“I know it does.” The whole thing is unbearably tender in that very Macklin way, quiet and attentive. So full of care he doesn’t even realize he’s showing. He rinses the shampoo from your hair carefully, and brushes wet strands away from your face afterward. Finally he presses a soft kiss to your forehead while warm water runs around both of you.

“You’re falling asleep standing up again,” he says quietly.

You barely crack one eye open. “Your fault.”

“My fault?”

“You made it too relaxing, you’re basically putting me to sleep.”

He laughs softly under his breath, pulling you closer for another second before reaching for the soap. “Okay,” he says gently. “C’mon, baby. Let me finish taking care of you so I can put you to bed.”

Macklin wraps a towel around your shoulders the second you step out of the shower, immediately rubbing warmth back into your arms when you shiver from the cooler air outside the steam.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod against his chest, eyes heavy. “Tired.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

He dries your hair gently with another towel while you lean against the counter half-asleep, occasionally blinking up at him while he works. Every once in a while he presses kisses to your forehead or temple between motions, like he physically cannot stop himself from touching you now that you’re here. 

“You don’t have to do all this,” you mumble again, voice sleepy.

Macklin just gives you a look through the mirror. “Yes I do.” He says it so matter-of-factly that it makes you laugh quietly.

Once he’s satisfied you’re warm enough again, he guides you back into the room with a hand resting at your lower back. He quietly digs through his suitcase and yours, throwing you one of his t-shirts and a pair of your sleep shorts. 

Sluggishly, you pull the clothes onto your body while he does the same with a pair of sweatpants. 

After you’re dressed you barely make it two steps toward the bed before dramatically faceplanting into the mattress. Macklin laughs immediately behind you.

“Oh my god,” he says. “You’re actually done.”

You make a muffled noise into the blankets, “Can’t feel my legs.”

“That tends to happen when you refuse to sleep for nearly twenty-four hours and you've been running around airports the whole time."

You feel the mattress dip beside you a second later before his hands slide carefully under your waist, tugging you farther up the bed properly.

“So demanding,” you mumble.

“Mhm,” he hums. 

You barely even register him pulling the blankets over you before you instinctively reach for him in your exhaustion, and Macklin’s expression softens instantly at that.

Without a word he slides in beside you, arms wrapping around you immediately, warm from the shower and smelling like soap and shampoo and home somehow, even though you’re thousands of miles away from it.

You curl into him automatically, face tucked against his chest while his hand drifts slowly up to the back of your neck, massaging the tension out of it. 

You hum tiredly against him.

His lips brush lightly against your damp hair. “Get some sleep, okay?”

You nod faintly, already halfway there, “Okay.”

You turn in his arms, your back now pressed against his chest, his arm still looped firmly around your waist. His nose nuzzles the skin underneath your ear, and he presses a kiss to the side of your neck. 

“Sleep as long as you want, m’not going anywhere,” he says against your skin, “I love you, I’m so glad you’re here. Sweet dreams, angel.” 

You try to say it back, try to tell him you love him too, but all that comes out is a sleepy little noise that makes him laugh softly against your neck. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “That’s about what I expected.”

The last thing you remember before sleep starts pulling you under is Macklin’s hand spreading warm and steady across your stomach, holding you against him like he’s making up for every second you spent apart.

“I agree, but you’ll get me for a few days. Then I’ll be back in July, and you have me until August.”

“That’s like over a month away, baby.”

“It’s going to go faster than you think it will.” You zip your suitcase closed.

“Time to go, honey!” Your mom yells from downstairs.

“I gotta go, Mack. I’ll call you when I get to New York.” You grab your passports, the small gift you got him for his birthday, and put it into your backpack. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You hang up the call and roll your suitcase out of your room.

“Got everything?” Your mom asks and grabs her car keys, “Both passports?”

“Got both,” You show off the two blue booklets.

“Perfect time to go. I’ll meet you in London with your tournament gear, but find a court when you can. We don't want you to lose strength this next week.” You grab your smaller tennis bag from the floor and put it on your suitcase.

“I will, Mack’s sister plays, so maybe I’ll be able to convince her to play with me.”

“Sounds good, but remember to have fun too.” You pack your stuff into the car to head to the airport. “But don’t drink too much and wear protection.”

“Mom!” You look at her wide-eyed.

“What? I was 19 when I got pregnant with you. I know what’s going on.” She chuckles and starts the car.

“Well, I know that.”

“Just be safe, please, I’m your mom, I’ll always worry about you.” She pats your hand and pulls out of the garage.

“I’ll be safe. Promise.” You smile and settle back into your seat.

“Good, I don’t want to have to fly up there. I know your dad will.” You agree with her statement.

“He would.” You laugh and pull out your phone to send a text to Mack’s mom.

Mack’s whole family knows you're coming for his birthday, a joint surprise you’d been planning for the last few weeks while you were in Paris for the French Open. A quick trip for his birthday before you had to leave for London, and he trained his ass off for the upcoming season. He was sure to be surprised if no one spoiled said surprise.

You look out the window, giddy with anticipation.

•••

When you get to Vancouver, you hastily get ready to meet Mack and his family for his birthday dinner. You throw on a nice top and jeans, after a hot shower and fresh makeup, before you Uber to the restaurant.

Mack’s mom, Robyn, kept you updated on their location just so you didn’t show up to the restaurant before they did. She’d texted you the go-ahead, and you arrived at the restaurant just moments later.

“Hello, Miss.” The hostess greets you.

“I’m with the Celebrini party.” You respond, and she nods in understanding, leading you in the direction of the more private area.

“Just through that archway.”

“Thank you so much.” You smile and walk through to the semi-private room.

Mack, his parents, and three siblings are all conversing amongst themselves, none aware of your presence.

“Is there room for one more?” You ask, and the family looks up at you.

Mack does a double-take before bolting out of his seat and over to you. “You’re here? You’re actually here?”

You give him a tight hug, and Mack practically wraps himself around you. You laugh as you both almost topple over.

“Surprise.” You practically hold all of his body weight on you. “Happy Birthday, Mack.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Your bodies sway back and forth as you hold him tightly.

“What about New York?” He pulls his head back.

“The plan was to come here the whole time.”

“That’s a sneaky plan.” He kisses your cheek.

“Yeah, but you’re hard to surprise.” You shrug and nod to the table, “Let’s sit.”

“What about London?” Mack pulls out your chair, and you sit down next to him.

“I’m leaving from here. You have me for the next few days.” You smile at him.

“Not more?”

“I’ll be back in July, and then the US Open isn’t until September.” You scoot your chair in before turning to his family. “Sorry, it’s rude of me not to greet you guys. It’s nice to see you all again.”

“It’s no problem, Y/N, we’re happy you’re here.” Robyn shakes her head, her smile is the same one you see on Mack all the time.

“Thank you for having me.”

“Mack has been moping around, so thank you for putting us out of that misery.” Aiden teases, and Rick gives his eldest a pointed look.

“Can you play tennis with me?” Charlie blurts out excitedly.

“Let’s not bombard Y/N.” Robyn tries to get a hold of the situation.

“It’s okay. I was hoping I could convince you to be my hitting partner anyway.” You wink, and Charlie looks triumphant.

“Why do you look like that?” RJ speaks up, confused at the look on Macklin’s face. A soft smile, with hazy eyes focused solely on you. It could only be described as a look of pure love.

“I’m being made fun of on my birthday.” Mack scrubs a hand down his face, but he hasn’t stopped grinning. “This is crazy, you’re all supposed to be nice to me.”

“Birthdays protect no one from familial teasing.” You pat his thigh. You feel him tense underneath your hand, but make nothing of it as you pull away.

“Guess not.” Mack catches your hand before it settles back in your lap. Pulling it so it’s entwined with his on top of his thigh.

“Y/N, how are your studies going?” Rick asks, and you take a sip of your water.

You clear your throat before speaking, “They’re going really well! I'm learning a lot, but I’m happy with what I chose to major in.”

“Remind me what that is again?”

“Sports Medicine. I’m thinking of possibly using it to get my PhD in Biomechanics later on down the road.” Rick nods, impressed, and you do a celebration on the inside.

“How do you balance that with the WTA tours and challengers?” He questions.

“Meticulously,” You laugh, “but really, my advisor is helping a lot. I’m currently in like five online courses right now to transfer credits just to make sure I can graduate on time, early even.”

“You have a solid plan.”

“I can’t take all the credit. My mom is also helping me navigate this.” You feel Mack’s thumb run over your knuckles, but you aren’t sure if the motion is supposed to be comforting you or him.

“Well, she’s doing a very great job.” Robyn chimes in.

“I’d say so too.” You agree.

Mack is talking with his siblings, their increasing noise level as you speak with his parents gives you an inkling that they’re arguing about something. All of a sudden, Charlie is fully leaning over Mack and pushing him against the back of his chair.

“Y/N, you have to tell me what the Australian and French Open were like.” She says excitedly as Mack tries to push her off of him.

“Get off of me.”

“I’m trying to ask Y/N a question.” She looks at her older brother, eyes narrowing.

“You could do it while sitting in your chair.” He grumbles, and she rolls her eyes, but relents, sitting in her chair properly.

“Better?” Charlie asks snarkily.

“Much.” Mack matches her bratty tone.

“Okay, please tell me everything about the Opens. Like everything.”

You turn to face Charlie more, knees bumping with Mack’s thigh. You make no move to adjust your position, keeping the point of contact. You watch Mack’s face flush, but don’t comment on it.

“They were crazy, like an adrenaline high that I couldn’t come off of. Like, after I got out of the Australian Open, I was genuinely bouncing off the walls. My nervous system was so out of whack that I couldn’t come down from this self-induced high. I crashed when I got back to California, and I was sick for a week.”

“Really?” She tilted her head.

“Really. Like once my body was finally aware that I wasn’t in the tournament anymore, my immune system shut down with it.” You laugh, “But it was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I didn’t do the greatest at the Australian Open, but honestly, just being there was surreal.”

“I bet. But the French Open.” Charlie does a jaw drop motion, “I watched every match. The upsets were crazy.”

“I know,” You nod, “Being there and watching it happen in real time is something else.”

“For sure! You made it really far this time, too!”

“I know! I was proud of myself for making it to the quarterfinals. Like my second Grand Slam tournament.” You grin, and Mack squeezes your hand.

“We’ve been following along with Charlie and Mack. For your first professional season, you’re doing really well.” Robyn places a soft hand on your forearm.

“Thank you, it means a lot.” A warmth fills your chest from the kind words.

“No need to thank us.” She shakes her head.

“I know, but I still will because it really does mean a lot to me.”

“I’ll let go this time.” Robyn pats your arm before placing her hand back in her lap, and you laugh with her.

“Okay.” You grin.

•••

The rest of Mack’s birthday dinner goes really well. You talk with his entire family, and you feel closer to the Celebrini’s. You and Charlie already have plans to hit the courts every day while you’re in Vancouver. You’ve given Rick your Mom’s contact info so they can converse on college plans for the rest of the Celebrini kids. RJ is still confused and unsure of what emotions his older brother is experiencing. Aiden wants to take you and Mack bar hopping, but Mack promptly shuts it down because he wants to spend the rest of his birthday with you only.

“Happy birthday, honey. Be safe tonight.” Robyn gives Mack a hug.

“I will.”

“Be aware of your surroundings, and Uber back to Y/N’s hotel.” Rick pats him on the back.

“I will, Dad.” Mack nods, taking your hand.

“Drink something for me.” Aiden smacks his shoulder, and Mack just rolls his eyes.

“Alright, time to go,” Rick says, and the rest of the Celebrinis walk in the opposite direction from you two.

You both start walking down the pavement, Mack’s hand finds yours, easily pulling you closer into his side. He slows to a stop on the street, and you stop with him.

“Everything okay, baby?” You ask as Mack wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” You take his face into your hands.

Mack leans down and captures your mouth with his. Your mouths move against each other, heat and friction buzzing underneath your skin. His tongue prods at your bottom lip, but you pull away. Mack lets out a whine, his mouth forming a pout.

“Baby…”

“Do you want to go to the bar? Or do you just want to go back to my hotel?” You ask, hands sliding down his neck.

“I need you.” He whispers against your mouth before kissing you hungrily. You know the answer to your own question.

“Let me order an Uber.” You mumble back and reach for your phone.

Mack's hand creeps up underneath your top, splayed on the skin of your stomach. He’s pulled you flush against his body, holding you as you tap through your phone ordering a car.

“Can it get here faster?”

“It’ll be here in five.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, the impatience humming through his body.

“Too long.” He groans and lets his head fall to the crook of your neck.

“You’ll survive. I also have to give you your present. It’s in my hotel room.” You hum and watch the little car on your screen get closer.

“You didn’t have to get me anything. You’re here on my birthday, that's enough for me.”

“That is very sweet of you, but it won’t make my gift go away.” You wrap your arm around his torso, giving his side a mischievous squeeze.

“Fine.” Mack kisses your neck softly before pulling his head back up.

The Uber pulls up next to the curb, and Mack pulls open the door for you. You step inside, and he follows suit, sliding into the seat next to you. His hand finds your thigh as the car pulls into the street, fingers caressing the seam on the inner thigh of your jeans. You haven’t been in each other's presence since April. So you two have also been on a two-month stint of unwilling celibacy. His hand tries to creep higher, but you politely grab it and place it on your lap. You send him a sharp look and jerk your head in the direction of the driver.

You could already see the headlines: “Uber Driver Tells All: NHL Star, Macklin Celebrini and Girlfriend Caught Getting Handsy in the Backseat.” You would be relegated to the title of girlfriend or Sidney Crosby’s daughter, depending on which news source is writing the article. So it was best to stay respectful in public.

The driver pulls up to your hotel, and you give a quick thanks before letting Macklin lead you out of the back seat.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” You chuckle as he drags you into the hotel.

“No, but you’ll tell me.” He says matter-of-factly.

“This way.” You take the reins and walk towards the elevator.

You look over at Mack, his pupils blown wide. He looks intoxicated, but it can’t be the case. Neither of you has had a lick of alcohol all night. The moment the elevator doors slide closed, Mack’s mouth is attacking yours.

“You are really impatient.” You mutter between kisses.

“It’s been two months, baby, cut me some slack here. Can’t I miss my girlfriend?”

“You can miss me.” You smile and peck his mouth again, “Missing me is very much appreciated.”

“Did you miss me?” Mack raises a brow, noticing the lack of verbal reciprocation on the feeling.

“So much.”

“Good.” Mack presses one last kiss to your cheek as the bell of the elevator rings.

You lead Mack down the hallway and unlock the door to your room. You toe off your shoes and start removing your jewelry. Earrings and rings first, before the bracelets and necklaces, save for the bracelet Mack got for your birthday and the necklace with your birthstone that you never take off.

Mack sits down on the hotel bed, watching you put the accessories into your travel case, fingers tapping on his thigh incessantly.

“Do you want your present now or later?” You ask, looking over your shoulder.

“Later. Can you please just come over here? I'm dying, baby.” Mack whines, and you move to the bed.

“Dying? Should I call the doctors?” You ask, swinging your leg over his lap, hands braced on his shoulders. Mack’s hands grip your waist as you settle into his hold.

“No, just need you.”

“So I’m the remedy?” You run your fingers through his hair, and the feeling of his cock starting to press against the zipper of his pants has you smirking.

“And the problem.” He jokes, and you roll your eyes.

“I can tell.” You tease and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “What does the birthday boy want?”

“You.”

“Well, I know that, but anything specific? What do you need?” His eyes nearly roll back into his head every time your nails scrape against his scalp.

“Nothing specific, just want to be with you.” He says sweetly, and you give him a real kiss this time.

Warmth seeps into your bones as your hands move from Mack’s hair, down his neck and chest, before reaching the hem of his shirt.

“Can I take it off?” You mutter against his mouth, and he nods.

You work the shirt over his head, discarding it behind you somewhere, all the while still kissing him. Mack’s tongue prods at the seam of your mouth, and you let him inside. He moves the hair away from your neck and presses wet kisses on the skin. You cradle his head in your hands as he continues his assault. Mack sucks a particularly harsh hickey right below your ear, causing you to gasp. The sensation is replaced by his tongue darting out to soothe the bruise. His hips buck into yours, pressing the seam of your jeans right into your clit, and shudders of building pleasure roll through your body. Your underwear is growing damp by the minute.

“You’re disgusting.” You chide, feeling Mack smile against your neck.

“And yet you’ve never told me to stop.” He grins up at you before taking your weight from his lap and flipping you to lie flat on the bed.

“I can like it and still think you’re gross.” You widen your legs and let Mack settle between them.

You pull off your shirt and throw it to where you’d put Mack’s. The black lace bra you had on underneath has him groaning and shifting to hover over top of you.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” You tease, and Mack takes offense.

“That’s all you have to say about me?” He gasps and pinches your side.

“Don’t worry, I think you're beautiful, too, pretty boy.” You cup his cheek as Mack’s hand moves up and down your jean-covered outer thigh.

“I was really worried there for a second.” He leans down and kisses your mouth one last time before making his way down your body.

His lips trail down your neck and collarbone, mouthing at the skin of your sternum before moving to the swells of your breasts. Mack finds the waistband of your jeans, sitting back on his haunches to undo the fly. You help him shimmy them off of you, and he takes off his own pants as well, the hard line of his dick evident behind his tented briefs. The pile of clothes on the floor continues to accumulate.

“Need any help with that?” You tease, sitting up on your forearms.

“Maybe later.”

“No birthday blowjob?” Your gaze follows him as he moves back up your body to be face-to-face.

“Tempting, but I want to taste you first.” Mack grins as your hand runs through his hair, fingertips trailing lightly over his face.

“All of the options in the world, and he wants to be the giver on his birthday.” Your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, and he bites at the tip of it.

“What I like the look of you all fucked out.” He settles between your legs, hands rubbing up and down your thighs.

“Jesus.” You groan, throwing your head back against the pillows.

“My name is Mack, baby.” You roll your eyes hard.

“You’re ridiculous like that was actually the worst joke ever.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” He leans forward to rest his face on your stomach, pressing soft kisses to your navel.

“Really?” You look at him, facial expression, asking him if he’s joking.

“Fine, it was bad.” His fingers hook underneath the sides of your underwear and pull them off completely. You’re wet, like really wet, folds glistening in the dim lamplight. If Mack could get harder than he already is, his dick would be blue. “Fuck me.”

“Trying to, but we just keep on talking.” Mack pulls you towards the edge of the bed, kneeling between your legs.

“Well, I like talking with you,” He says, kissing the inside of your knee.

“I like talking too, but like I’m pretty much naked right now, and I’d really like you to eat me out.”

“I can’t say no to that.” Mack bites your sensitive inner thigh, causing you to jolt.

“Mack, please.” You plead, the heat flooding your body is filling you with anticipation.

His lips press the tiniest kiss to your clit, providing nothing to give you the high you’ve been chasing for months. Yes, the phone sex had been plentiful, but the toys and your fingers just weren’t cutting it anymore. You need Mack to give you everything you’d been waiting for.

“Mack…” Your fingers fist the sheets as he sends you a teasing smirk.

“Yeah, baby?” He rests his cheek against your thigh, stopping any progression towards your much-wanted orgasm.

“Please. I don’t want to beg for a third time.” Your voice is raspy as you look down at your boyfriend.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He hooks a leg over his shoulder and fully dives in.

He licks a long stripe through your folds, collecting your slick on his tongue. You let out a long moan as your hand tangles in his hair. You feel Mack smile against your pussy, before finding your clit and giving it a light suck.

“Oh fuck!” You tug at his hair, and Mack whines into your skin.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No,” Mack peers at you breathlessly, talking in between kisses and licks, “keep going.”

“You too.” You can feel your orgasm building as his tongue circles your already sensitive bundle of nerves. “Fucking hell.”

Macklin is properly making out with your pussy, tongue everywhere, your clit throbbing in his mouth. The coil of pleasure is reaching its breaking point as he throws the other one of your legs over his shoulder for more leverage. His hands brace against your hips, holding them down as his tongue fucks into your entrance.

“Oh fuck, oh my god.” You throw an arm over your eyes, “I’m so close, baby.”

“Cum, please cum for me.”

You press your heels into his back, grinding into his face as best as you can in a prone position. Every time his nose bumps your clit, another wave of ecstasy brings you closer to the edge.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck.” You heave, chest rising rapidly.

Mack knows you’re close. The way you’re roughly gripping his hair and the incoherent string of expletives falling from your mouth are a telltale sign of your impending orgasm.

“Cum for me, baby.” He manages to speak before burying his face back into your folds. Mack gives one last harsh suck on your clit, and it’s over for you.

You just let go as a wash of euphoria rips through your body. Heat spreads from the center of your body to the tips of your fingers. Mack presses a few featherlight kisses to your inner thigh, being wary to not overstimulate your body.

“I don’t think I’ve come that hard in a long time.” You grin lazily, beckoning Mack to come to you.

“Yeah, are you okay?” He crawls up onto the bed, hovering over you as you push up on your forearms. Mack cranes his neck down to press his mouth to yours. You smile into the kiss, wrapping an arm around his neck, slowly guiding his back to the bed.

“I’m good.”

“Ready for more already?” Mack asks, hands settling on your waist.

“I bounce back quickly.” You reach your hands behind your back to unhook your bra, but you stop. “Wait, condoms.”

“In my wallet.” Mack points to his pants on the floor.

“That is so douchey of you.” You move off of him and grab his pants from the floor. You pull his wallet from the back pocket, sure enough, there is a strip of condoms where cash should be. “Like genuinely a frat boy move.”

“I just like to be prepared.” He leans against the pillows, watching you rip off one of the condoms. You find a small tube of lube you packed in your suitcase and walk to the bed.

You throw the package at him, and he catches it with ease. You unhook your bra and leave it on the floor. Mack looks you up and down, acting like he hasn’t ever seen you fully naked.

“Perv.” You straddle his lap again, his cock pressing against your ass.

“I’m just appreciating the view.” He looks up at you, hands rubbing up and down your sides.

“That’s so corny.”

“What? You look good.” Mack kisses your collarbone, fingers brushing underneath your breasts.

“Why, thank you.” You run your hands over his shoulders.

He nips at your skin, gaze roaming all over your naked body. Mack is beginning to look desperate as his hips buck up for friction. You let out a breathless sigh, the stimulation has heat pooling in your stomach.

“Baby?” He asks, pulling his head away from your neck.

“Yeah?” You respond, eyes heavy with lust.

“I want you to ride me.”

You nod and grab the condom from the bed, sliding off his lap, “Take off your briefs.”

Mack obeys quickly and pulls off his underwear quickly. His cock slaps against his stomach, red and flushed with pre-come collecting at the tip. You take the condom wrapper between your teeth and tear it open.

“Fuck that’s hot.” Mack settles back against the pillows, watching you pull out the condom.

“Anything turns you on, bro.” You joke.

“Please don’t call me bro right now.” He looks at you pointedly, but is quickly cut off by the feeling of you rolling the condom down his length.

“Sorry, baby.” You straddle him again, but stay up on your knees.

“I need to be inside you.” He groans hands cupping your hips.

“Okay.”

You look down and take hold of his dick, pour a generous amount of lube into your hand. Mack’s head lolls to the side as you pump it a few times, spreading the lube over the condom. You line it up with your entrance before sliding down the length of him. Your walls flutter around him to adjust to his size. Once he’s fully seated inside you, you both take a pause. Mack sits up, arms wrapped around your body, keeping you in place.

“Fuck I missed this.” He buries his head into your shoulder.

“Me too.” You kiss the side of his head, “I’m gonna start moving.”

You slowly rise off of him, before sinking down again, using his shoulders as leverage. Mack’s palms make a slow glide to your hips, eyes never leaving your own. You watch every twitch and movement in his face as you roll your hips slowly creating that much-needed friction. His hands cup your breasts, squeezing the flesh, stimulating your sensitive nipples.

“Not just sex, I missed you, Y/N. Like every day, I missed you.” He brushes a strand of hair from your face.

“I missed you so much, too.” You press your cheek against his.

Everything is so soft and gentle, just two people being united in the most intimate way. Mack peppers kisses on your face, trying to muffle his moans against your skin.

“Mack, baby, I want to hear you, don’t be shy with me.” Your pace starts to increase, the head of his cock bumping against your G-spot.

“Fuck baby, move faster, please.” Mack groans out loud as your walls clench around him. You grind down trying to increase the friction on your clit.

You watch Mack bite his lower lip, trying again to muffle his moans. Your hand creeps to his mouth, thumb pressing at his lips.

“Open.” You breathe out and watch him open his mouth willingly.

You press two fingers into his mouth, and he moans around your digits. You grin at the sound, pace increasing as the heat in your stomach starts to spread through your body, every nerve ending on fire. His tongue dances around your fingers, occupying his mouth as you continue to ride on his cock.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum, baby.” He slurs around your fingers, saliva collecting at the corners of his mouth.

“Already?” You remove your fingers from his mouth.

“Don’t tease me.” He whines and fucks his hips into you, trying to chase his climax. Yours is building quickly, too, but you can tell Mack is about to come.

“I need more.” You sigh and snake your hand down your body, fingers finding your clit.

“Lemme help.” Mack replaces your hand with his own, fingers circling your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck that feels good.” You roll your hips faster, finding a pace that makes your orgasm start to build.

“Baby, can I cum please?” He asks, mouthing at your breasts.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You nod and throw your arms over his shoulders.

Mack guides your hips up and down his length, increasing your pace to bring him to his climax. The coil in your stomach tightens again, your orgasm approaching quickly.

“Fuck I’m right there.” He rubs your clit faster, trying to bring you right to the edge with him.

“So close.” You mutter and kiss him, moving chest to chest as you ride him. “You can cum, baby.”

“Not without you.”

Mack moves his hand from between the two of you and cradles the back of your head. Your mouths move against each other as you both tip over the edge. Mack cums first, and you follow suit moments later. You know he’ll pout, but at this point, you don’t care.

You slump forward, fully sweaty and spent, legs cramping from the position and spasming from the orgasm. Mack has his face buried in the side of your neck, mouth pressing light kisses on the skin.

“Let’s not go that long without sex again.” He jokes, and you just let out a chuckle.

“Yeah, it might have to be another month, though.”

“Not unless I come visit you in London.” Mack offers, looking up at you with his sparkly green eyes.

“What about training?” You ask, lifting your hips, slowly sliding off of him. There’s a slight emotional emptiness that comes with the sensation of being actually empty.

Mack pauses before answering, “There’s gotta be rinks in England.”

“True.” You watch him push off the bed as best as he can, rolling off the condom and discarding it in the trash. He picks up his briefs from the floor before disappearing into the bathroom. “Would you really come through?”

“Would I actually come? Baby…you think that lowly of me?” He re-emerges with a wet towel to clean you up and his briefs back on.

“No, but I know you’re busy.”

“Not too busy for you, your first Wimbledon is a big fucking deal, and I already feel bad enough that I missed the Australian and French Opens. I’ll be there.” Mack picks up his shirt from the floor and hands it to you.

“Okay,” You smile, warmth flooding your chest, you just love him so much.

“Can I?” He touches your knee softly, and you nod, parting your legs again.

Mack cleans you up, making sure to be careful with your sensitive skin. You pull his shirt over your head when he’s done wiping between your legs.

“Oh! Your birthday present. Gimme a second.”

“Take your time.” Mack settles back onto the bed.

You push onto shaky legs and walk to the bathroom, making sure to pee so you don’t get a UTI. You exit the bathroom and grab a clean pair of underwear, sliding them on before reaching for the small box containing Macklin’s gift.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything.” Mack sighs and takes the box from your hand as you crawl into bed beside him.

“I know, but I love you, and I give gifts to people I love, so you’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I guess I will,” He undoes the ribbon and pulls off the top of the box. “What did you get me?”

“Just look in the box.” You rest your cheek against his shoulder, watching him pull the piece of paper from the box.

“It’s paper.” He teases, holding the folded sheet.

“Read it.” You pinch his arm.

His eyes scan over the contents of the paper, “What the fuck, Y/N.”

“Surprise! We’re going to Hawaii.”

“You’re crazy.” Mack kisses your mouth and pulls away with a smile.

“Maybe, but we’ll be there for a week just the two of us. It’s obviously after Wimbledon ends, so you’ll be okay to take a week away from the rink, right?”

“If they have a gym, then yes.”

“Is that even a question?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I’m kidding, yeah, I’ll gladly take a week away with you. Thank you, Y/N, this is an amazing gift.” He pulls you into his side.

“You’re welcome, Mack.” You grin. “So how would you rate this birthday?”

“10/10, best birthday ever.” He answers.

“Such high praise.”

“What can I say, my girlfriend surprises me by flying here before Wimbledon after not seeing each other for two months, then we have mind-blowing sex.” You shove his shoulder lightly, “Then she gets me a trip to Hawaii, a week for just the two of us. Overall, a really great day.”

“I guess you could say that.” You get under the covers of the bed as Mack sets his gift on the nightstand.

“Yeah, it’s been a good day.” Mack kisses your hairline as he crawls under the sheets with you.

“I’m glad,” You mutter, eyes starting to droop with sleep, “Happy Birthday, Mack, I love you.”

“I love you too, thank you for a good day.” He wraps his arms around you, head resting on your chest, and you throw a leg over his hip.

“No problem.” You smile sleepily, the warmth of being tangled in his embrace lulling you to sleep. “Goodnight, birthday boy.”

“Goodnight, baby.” You reach over to the side table and turn off the lamp, enveloping you both in the darkness of the night.