#ws2 x reader

The front door clicks shut behind you, the distinctive crinkle of a plastic bag echoing in the quiet entryway. You kick off your shoes, trying to be stealthy, but you know it's a lost cause.

Will appears in the doorway of the living room, his brow furrowed slightly as he takes in the orange-colored logo on the bag hanging from your hand.

"What's that?" he asks, his voice casual, but you know better. You know the slight edge of suspicion in his tone.

"Just some stuff," you say, attempting to breeze past him toward the kitchen. His arm shoots out, gently blocking your path. His eyes are narrowed now, zeroed in on the bag like it's a personal offense.

"You went without me," he states. It's not a question. He already knows. The betrayal in his tone is so thick you could cut it with a utility knife, probably one you purchased without his consultation.

"I needed a few things for the bathroom," you explain, holding up the bag as evidence. "A new showerhead and some caulk. It was a quick trip."

Will's jaw actually drops. "A quick trip? To Home Depot? There's no such thing. You didn't even text me. You didn't send me pictures of the different faucet options. You didn't ask me what kind of caulk to get." He looks genuinely wounded, like you just told him you traded his signed hockey stick for a toaster oven.

"It was silicone," you offer weakly. "For the tub."

He runs a hand through his hair, pacing a small circle in the entryway. "Okay. Okay. But which one? The kitchen and bath kind? The waterproof kind? The paintable kind? Did you check the drying time? Did you look at the reviews?"

You can't help but let out a small laugh. "Will, it's caulk. I read the label. It said it's good for bathrooms."

He stops pacing and fixes you with a serious look. "We go to Home Depot together. That's our thing. We compare paint swatches. We test out the power tools. We spend forty-five minutes in the lighting aisle debating the merits of recessed versus pendant. You broke the system."

"I was efficient," you counter, a smirk playing on your lips. "In and out in twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes?" He looks horrified. "Impossible. The parking lot alone takes ten minutes. Did you even go down the seasonal aisle? They have the Halloween stuff out."

Your heart melts a little at his genuine distress. He's not actually mad, he's just… disappointed. FOMO is a powerful thing, especially when it involves a big box store. "I'm sorry," you say, stepping closer and wrapping your free arm around his waist. "I'll never do it again."

He sighs, his arms encircling you and pulling you flush against his chest. "You better not. My expertise is too valuable to waste. I have to make sure you get the right showerhead. The water pressure has to be just right."

You lean your head against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. "I know. I missed your input."

"Good," he murmurs into your hair, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "So, what's next on the list? Because we're going back. Together. This weekend. And we're getting the good caulk."

You smile against his chest. "Whatever you say, captain."

after a gentle stretch that pulled your back muscles like taffy, you opened your eyes and sat up to feel the sunshine on your skin once again.

will’s house on the cape had been the perfect warm weather destination, and today was your first beach day of the season.

“hey cutie,” you cooed at your sleepy boyfriend, softly brushing your thumb over his cheek. “let’s go to the beach!”

will stirred groggily, his blonde locks especially wild after your hands were tangled in them last night. he let out a yawn, rubbing his eyes to adjust to the light.

“five more minutes,” he proposed.

you sighed, propping up his pillow from behind him and having him sit up. he looks confused for a moment, until you straddled his lap and sank into the warmth of his body, legs wrapped around his torso like a koala. your arms crossed behind his neck, pulling him in deeper, and you started to pepper kisses like constellations on his face, eliciting giggles and a returned bear hug from will.

eventually, the two of you got ready for your day, and hopped in the (now roofless) bronco to make the drive. of course, will had his hand on your upper thigh the whole time. the scenic drive was complete with the wind whipping through your hair, the smell of sea salt invading your nostrils. colorful hydrangeas littered the town’s bushes; you knew summer was in full bloom.

you two soon found the perfect spot - close enough to the water, but not so close that your towels would be soaked in minutes. as you began to strip from your baggy t-shirt and lived-in shorts combo, your boyfriend let out a wolf whistle at the sight of you in your new thong bikini, perfect for tanning and for his eyes only.

will literally could not keep his eyes off of your figure. “how did I get so lucky?” he asked in disbelief. you shook your head with a smile, laying on your towel, stomach down. he scooted closer to you, laying in the same position as you with his palms facing downwards and elbows splayed out.

“my perfect girl,” he gushed, pressing a supple kiss to your cheek. he giggled at the sight of your face, which was turning as red as the vine-ripe tomatoes in the garden.

for the next hour, you continued to snack, sunbathe, and chat; having a sister, of course, led will to become a sucker for some good gossip.

“she did WHAT?” he exclaimed. “i thought she had always been single since the split!”

“nope. she married some old french guy who always complains about the weather…you’ll never believe this, it’s her dad’s friend. they’re getting married this summer.”

a cheeky smirk appeared on his face. “can i be your wedding date?”

you buried your face in your hands, laughter making you feel like you just grew another ab. “i thought you’d never ask.”

soon, will grew restless.

“baby, let’s go for a swim.”

you would go in the fucking freezing cold water with him, you really would, but instead you chose to feel like a grilled chicken. “give me ten minutes, i need to flip over and get my other side.”

he stalled for a moment, before pulling his signature move.

the potato sack.

swiftly as ever, he stood up and lunged for your torso and threw you over his shoulder. you roared with squeals as he ran at full speed towards the waves, eventually throwing you into the water.

luckily, you held your breath, and rose up from the blue to exhale. “WILL!” you yelled playfully, water dripping down your face.

not to your surprise, he had gone under the rolling blanket of navy himself. upon his return to the surface, he shook his head like a puppy after a bubble bath, water droplets littering your saltwater-soaked skin.

you two continued to splash around for a bit, until the sun started to set, the universe painting the sky in hues of pink and orange. he leaned back in the water, inviting you to come into his embrace. obliging wholeheartedly, you swam closer, closer and closer until you were in his tanned and freckled arms. you kissed him on the mouth, your lips interlocking in a dance that only you two knew the steps to.

will gave your ass a love tap, thankful that you wore your thong, prompting you to throw your legs around his waist. he held you close in the midst of the sea breeze, keeping you warm despite the rushing ocean at your sides.

night fell after the sky’s canvas was painted black, dotted with beautiful stars and a clear view of the crescent moon above.

you and will had cozied up on the deck overlooking the water, warm cups of fresh tomato soup in hand.

it was bound to happen, but his head found your shoulder as soon as he was finished with his dinner. you knew that comfort food made him sleepier than usual. he began to sing the song you currently had playing on your speaker, eyes closed, but he spoke genuinely.

“for all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you.” (sorry to interrupt but I FREAKING LOVE CECILIA AND THE SATELLITE) his eyes began to close, and before you knew it, will was fast asleep.

The world has narrowed to the slide of Will's skin against yours, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress, the relentless, perfect rhythm of his hips. Your head is thrown back, your fingers tangled in the sheets, your mind a blissful, hazy cloud of sensation. He's been driving you higher and higher, pushing you past the point of coherent thought and you're floating, adrift on a sea of pleasure.

"Will," you gasp, your voice barely recognizable, high and breathy. "Please… don't stop."

He chuckles, a low, predatory sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Wasn't planning on it, baby. Not until you're screaming my name."

His words are your undoing. He shifts his angle, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes your vision blur, and it's too much. The pleasure, which was a warm, blissful wave just a moment ago, suddenly crests into something sharp, almost painful. It's overwhelming, a sensory overload that your body can't process.

Your mind goes blank, the single word you both agreed on rising to the surface, a lifeline in the storm of sensation.

"Red," you whisper, your voice cracking.

The effect is instantaneous.

One moment, he's a relentless force, driving into you with a singular focus. The next, he's completely still, his body frozen above yours. The change is so abrupt it's jarring. The room, which was filled with the sounds of your shared passion, falls into a sudden, heavy silence.

He pulls out of you carefully, the loss of his presence leaving you feeling suddenly empty and exposed. He's off the bed in a flash, kneeling beside you, his hands hovering, unsure if they should touch you.

"Hey," he says, his voice soft, gentle, a stark contrast to the demanding tone he was using just moments ago. "Hey, look at me. Are you okay? Talk to me."

You can't answer, your body trembling uncontrollably. Tears you didn't realize were forming stream down your cheeks. You turn your head, burying your face in the pillow, a wave of shame washing over you.

"Hey, no, none of that," he says softly, his hand finally landing on your back, rubbing soothing circles. "Don't you dare feel bad about this. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. You did so good, baby. So good for me."

His words are a balm, slowly easing the knot of shame in your chest. You take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to get your racing heart under control.

"Can I touch you?" he asks, his voice still impossibly gentle.

You nod against the pillow.

He carefully gathers you into his arms, pulling you into his lap, your back against his chest. He wraps a blanket around you both, his arms a warm, secure anchor in the aftermath of the storm. He doesn't say anything, just holds you, his chin resting on your head, his breathing slow and steady.

After a few minutes, when the trembling has subsided and you can breathe without feeling like you're going to hyperventilate, you finally speak.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice hoarse.

"Don't," he says, his voice firm but kind. "Don't you dare apologize. Do you hear me? There is nothing to be sorry for. This is why we have the word. This is what it's for."

"I know," you say, turning in his arms to look at him. "I just… I didn't expect it. It was so good and then it was just… too much."

He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the remnants of your tears. "I get it. I do. And I'm sorry I pushed you too far. I should have been paying more attention."

"No," you insist, shaking your head. "It wasn't you. It was just… me. My body just… short-circuited or something."

He smiles, a soft, understanding smile that makes your heart ache. "Well, next time your body decides to short-circuit, we'll stop. Just like we did now. No questions, no apologies. Just stopping. Okay?"

"Okay," you agree, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For stopping. For taking care of me."

"Always," he says, his arms tightening around you. "Now, are you hungry? Thirsty? I can get you some water."

"Water would be good," you admit.

He carefully disentangles himself, pulling on a pair of sweats before disappearing into the kitchen. He returns a moment later with a glass of water and a chocolate bar, handing them to you with a small smile.

"Hydration and sugar," he says. "The perfect aftercare combo."

You smile gratefully, taking a sip of water before breaking off a piece of the chocolate. "You're too good to me."

"Nah," he says, climbing back into bed and pulling you into his arms. "I'm just doing what I'm supposed to do. Taking care of my girl."

You snuggle closer, your head resting on his chest, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm beneath your ear. The intensity from before is gone, replaced by a warm, comforting intimacy that fills you with a sense of peace.

"I love you," you whisper, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

¡series masterlist

004. peace-be-with-us plan

the quiet that settled into the house after that porch night was suffocating kind that belongs solely to people who have known each other too long to lie well.

you had been in your room for three days. yes, three.

you knew it was dumb, but you were deeply hurt. you just couldn't grasp what the hell will’s problem was, completely blowing up over a simple tank top and those damn sweatpants that were currently sitting in the laundry basket right beside your bedroom door. why the hell did he care if you had a guy in your life? tsk. did he think you were that ugly, that you weren't even capable of being liked by someone? you thought and thought and thought until your head practically ached.

the night the porch fight happened, you had also completely surprised your dad—well, more like he surprised you. you and leo had been way too distracted by the residual tension to notice the front door opening, and your dad had burst inside. he was all smiles, fresh from his shift, and hell, he was getting old. but he was still handsome, exactly the same warm, grounding pops he had always been.

you really had to thank your dad for raising you the way you were right now. he was the one who always reminded you to be yourself, no matter what and no matter how. it’s always mind over matter, kiddo. but fuck—you couldn't exactly quote your way out of the mess that had happened with will.

on the fourth day of your so-called isolation, a soft knock rattled the wood. "hey kid, are you alright?" your dad asked, peeking his head through the crack. you nodded quickly, trying to look fine, but he pushed the door open anyway. leo was trailing right behind him, casually eating a thick slice of rye bread slathered with butter.

"i'm 'kay," you mumbled, shifting on your pillows. "you know, college stuff... i just need to rest and just—"

before you could even finish your sentence, they both walked right in. your dad sat heavily on the edge of your mattress, while leo claimed your desk chair, spinning it around backward to face you.

"your brother told me what happened," your dad said gently. he reached down, pulling the heavy blanket away from your face, and heaved a soft sigh. "how are you feeling?"

you swear your dad always chose the most random timing to drop his serious phrases, but you knew this wasn't about jokes anymore. he knew you were sad, mad, and completely overwhelmed. you didn't say anything; you just let out a heavy sigh, sat up, and buried your head straight into his chest, hugging him tightly.

your dad's rough hand caressed your hair, fixing the messy strands as you leaned into his flannel shirt. leo, watching from the desk chair, met your dad's eyes over your shoulder. oh, just how both of their hearts melted at the sight of their prime princess looking so small.

"i'm just mad, you know?" you mumbled against your dad's chest, your voice thick and frustrated. "smitty's words really hurt. i don't know if it was just the alcohol in his system or what, but it hurt me knowing how hard i've been trying to fit into that damned college, pops."

you weren't crying; you were just thoroughly exhausted. your dad let out a deep sigh, his large hands coming up to cup your face and pull you back slightly.

"oh, you poor prince princess," he joked softly, using his thumb to playfully wipe an imaginary saliva stain from the corner of your lips. your brother snorted, finally sliding off the desk chair to sit at the end of your bed.

"you know smitty, don't you?" leo asked. you just nodded mutely. "and you know he wouldn't say those things if it weren't for the sake of you? maybe okay, well—he completely overdid himself. he was a caveman. but you know he’s been with you ever since you guys were kids, right? he saw how those idiots bullied you back in middle school. maybe he just doesn't want that happening to you again."

your dad shifted on the mattress, wrapping one massive arm around leo on his left and the other around you on his right, pulling the two of you into his sides.

"pfft, as if i don't know what i'm doing," you heaved heavily, leaning your head on his shoulder. "and pa... do you ever think a guy would even like a girl like me? for fuck's sake..."

"yeah, i don't thi—" leo started to chime in, but your dad shot him a terrifying side-glance that made him immediately shut his mouth and swallow his bread.

"what i'm trying to say is, he’s worried," your dad added, his voice steady and warm. "he is in the nhl now, and he knows how these guys move. he has a lot of knowledge about the kind of crowds that hang around athletes and colleges. who knows, maybe he's just trying to protect you from those ugly idiots." he patted your head, standing up from the bed. "i missed you, kiddo. and it's a sunday—you can't just rot in this room forever. think about it, get ready, and we're heading to church, okay?"

he kissed the top of your head and grabbed leo by the neck on his way out aggressively shuffling his hair while leo resisted, looking thoroughly annoyed. you laughed at the sight and nodded. god, thank you for the best dad ever.

----------------------

it was 11:00 am by the time you finished getting ready. you had put on a soft baby-blue dress with a delicate white touch along the embroidery of the hems. sliding into a pair of sandals, you let your hair fall naturally down your back. looking in the mirror, your freckles were completely visible, and the cut of the dress complimented you perfectly.

"what took you so long, jv lineman, for christ's sa—oh."

your brother busted through your door, stopping dead in his tracks when he looked at you. "wow you look nice. you actually showered, right? you didn't just put that on with a stinky body?" he teased, pointing a finger at the fabric. you threw a pillow straight at his head and followed him out into the hall.

----------------------

the drive to the church wasn't far—a good ten minutes filled with your usual bickering and your dad loudly shouting from the front seat to just shut the both of you up.

the church was a beautiful, serene building covered in fresh white paint that felt completely peaceful against the autumn sky. you swore you could almost feel the second coming of christ—but then grace approached you on the steps, and you realized hell was standing just three feet away.

will was right beside her.

his hair was neatly tidied up, completely free of the usual messy hockey helmet look, and he was wearing a crisp blue polo with white trousers. he looked devastatingly handsome.

"hey—how are you? i-i'm so sorry for will—" grace started quickly, her eyes wide with apology. before she could even finish her sentence, you threw your arms around her, hugging her tightly and pulling her straight inside the church foyer. your dad greeted mr. and mrs. smith with a warm chuckle, following the two of you into the pews.

the mass was a peaceful, quiet time—or it was supposed to be. with will standing just a few feet away, peaceful was the absolute last thing on your mind. leo had deliberately slid into the middle of the two of you, acting like a massive human shield, but the arrangement did nothing to stop your hyper-awareness.

your thoughts were suddenly cut off by the pastor's voice booming during the homily.

"love is what showed god that he was helping us, brothers and sisters," the pastor announced, raising his hands toward the congregation. "as we gather here for our loving father, we must remember that he is the strength of our bodies, the one who cleanses us from our sins. but love also requires us to swallow our pride. we cannot let stubbornness build walls between us and the ones we care about. when we let anger fester, when we snap at each other out of fear or jealousy, we are failing the people who share our burdens. love your enemies, yes, but learn to extend grace to the fools close to you who don't know how to use their words."

you swear to god, the homily was a bit too true to what you and will were currently experiencing. you wished you could just bury yourself alive and meet christ himself right then and there, but you were just a young girl trying to survive a sunday. from the corner of your eye, you saw will clear his throat roughly and fix his composure, adjusting the collar of his blue polo. you just snickered under your breath and glared at the side of his face. he tried to look over at you, but you kept your eyes fixed rigidly on the altar.

suddenly, leo leaned over and nudged your arm. "i gotta go," he whispered. you immediately grabbed the fabric of his shirt, tugging him back and begging him with your eyes not to leave. he just slapped your hand away playfully, giving you a goofy grin. "the rye bread made my stomach ache, kiddo. i'll be right back."

you could have punched your brother right in his face as he slid out of the row. and now, there was an empty space between you and will.

and just on cue, the pastor spoke. "let us offer each other the sign of peace."

when you were kids, the sign of peace was the ultimate joke. you used to use it to tease grace and leo because they had accidentally kissed each other during a game of tag once; both of them had been so thoroughly disgusted by it that you and will had laughed until your stomachs hurt. it had been an inside joke ever since.

but now, you were stuck standing right next to him.

it was so awkward. you turned, placing a soft, quick cheek-to-cheek with your dad, then grace, and then mrs. smith. and then you turned around, and there stood will.

fuck it—fuck it. you both just stood frozen in the aisle, the silence between you thick and heavy.

"peace be with you," he muttered, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register.

you just nodded, your throat dry. "peace be with you," you mumbled, trying to sit right back down to escape the proximity.

"how about smitty, y/n? you guys used to hug each other every time!" mrs. smith said happily, wrapping her arms around mr. smith's arm as she beamed at the two of you.

when will this end?

you had no choice but to stand back up, facing will. you leaned in, giving him a quick, stiff side-hug. will wrapped his broad arm around your shoulders, but he didn't entirely place his hand flat against your back, his fingers hovering awkwardly against the baby-blue fabric as if he was afraid to touch you. your heart did a dizzying lap against your ribs before you both broke away and sat down, staring straight ahead.

you're going to kill leo. you just knew that.

-----------------------

the end of the mass was quick and chaotic. the second the final hymn concluded, you quickly made your way out into the side courtyard, excusing yourself early before will could catch up to you. standing near the brick arches, you patted down your hair and checked your reflection in the glass of a small window, trying to calm your breathing.

"hey."

"what the fuck!" you yelled, jumping slightly as you whirled around. your heart completely skipped a beat.

will was scratching the back of his neck, his ears turning a bright red under his neat hair. you cleared your throat quickly, smoothing down the front of your dress to hide how rattled you were by his presence.

" 'm sorry."

the words were a tiny whisper, a muffled mumble that barely carried over the wind.

"what?" you asked, crossing your arms and glaring at him, forcing him to say it properly.

"i said i'm sorry," he repeated a little louder, his eyes finally snapping up to meet yours, completely wide and full of a raw, flustered sincerity.

you let out a slow sigh, looking at him. standing there, one thing you know two things for certain: one, you were absolutely going to forgive him. two, he had no right to look that damn good in a simple blue polo. you felt your stomach flip all over again, a sudden heat rushing into your cheeks.

"i was just out of my mind, and the words just slipped," he stammered, the explanation pouring out all at once as he took a step closer, his broad frame cutting off the draft from the street. "i was just scared, you know? you know how guys move, and i see how things are now that i'm in the nhl. i know how bad grace's ex-boyfriend was, and i just—i didn't want some idiot..."

"it's okay, smitty," you cut him off gently, reaching up to playfully shuffle his perfectly tidied hair just to break his panicked rhythm. you let out a soft sigh, a small smile finally touching your lips. "i forgive you."

"and just like god's miracale, drum roll please....! they reconciled, thank you jesus! whacha think, grace, how did our plan work?"

you both snapped your heads around. leo was standing by the walkway, grace right by his side, both of them grinning like absolute idiots.

"what plan?" you and will synced perfectly, your eyebrows raising in identical looks of pure suspicion.

"the peace-be-with-us plan," leo chuckled, thoroughly proud of himself as he high-fived grace.

"i knew it! you don't have a stomach ache from the damn rye bread! you're immune to that shit!" you yelled, your old tomboy instinct flaring up in a split second. you lunged straight at your brother, your sandals clicking against the stone as you started aggressively slapping his arm and his chest.

will let out a low, ragged sigh of relief, and a second later, your parents emerged from the church doors, watching the three of you cause a scene and laughing quietly. the afternoon quickly transitioned into a loud, comfortable sunday brunch at the local diner, the table filled with the smell of coffee, pancakes, and a few familiar jokes.

-----------------------

by the time the afternoon began to wind down, everyone drifted out into the diner's gravel parking lot. your dad and mr. smith were deep in a conversation about the upcoming freight schedules at the pier, and grace was helping mrs. smith carry a box of leftover pastries to their truck, leaving you and will walking a few paces behind the rest of the family.

the autumn sun was high now, casting long, crisp shadows across the gravel.

will was walking close to you—so close that his broad shoulder brushed against yours with every step. the loud anger from the porch was completely gone, replaced by a strange, quiet shyness that made the space between you feel entirely fragile.

"so," will murmured, his hands shoved deep into his white trousers, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground in front of his boots. "baby blue, huh?"

"what about it?" you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes, your fingers twisting the edge of your small cardigan.

"nothing," he muttered, his jaw twitching as a faint smirk tucked into the corner of his mouth. he cleared his throat, his neck turning that familiar shade of pink as his eyes flicked down to trace the clean, feminine line of your collarbone before quickly snapping back to the horizon. "just... it looks better than leo's old hoodies. a lot better, y/n."

your heart did a sudden erratic thud against your ribs. you looked away, your cheeks flushing warm as you tried to hold onto your steady, independent composure. "thanks, smitty. glad to know i have your stamp of approval."

"yeah, well," he mumbled, his pace slowing down until the two of you were lagging a full twenty feet behind your parents. he stopped near the side of your dad's truck, turning his massive frame fully toward you. he reached out, his thick fingers hesitating for a fraction of a second before he gently caught the hem of your cardigan between his thumb and index finger, tugging it just enough to keep you from stepping up onto the running board.

you froze, your breath hitching in your throat.

will stepped closer, crowding your space until the clean scent of the wind and his expensive soap completely filled your senses. he didn't say anything. he just stared down at you, his pupils wide and intense, holding your gaze with a unblinking focus that made the sounds of the parking lot completely fade away. his hand stayed clamped on the fabric of your sweater, his knuckles warm against your hip, his jaw tight as if he was fighting a massive urge he couldn't put into words.

there was something humming beneath his expression—something hidden so deep it made your knees go entirely weak. it was different from before. he wasn't just the boy next door anymore or will from the porch night.

he leaned down slightly, his mouth hovering just inches from your ear, his breath warm against your cold skin.

"i have to fly back out for the road trip tomorrow morning," he whispered, his voice dropping into a rough, low tone that sent a shiver straight down your spine. his thumb rubbed a slow, heavy circle against the fabric of your sweater, his grip tightening just a bit. "but you're coming back down to the city for the weekend game, right? tell me you're coming."

you looked up into his waiting eyes, the silence between your mouths stretching out until it felt terrifyingly dangerous, leaving the answer hanging in the crisp harbor air.

By a week into the trip you are exhausted, but that good kind of exhausted where you feel so at peace and so happy. But, that’s what you think triggered it. Not that you could blame anyone else for your lack of sleep. After all, it was you who chose to stay up every night around the fire with Will and his sister Grace, and it was you who insisted on sneaking out in the dark for a midnight lake runs with Will.

So tonight, the family also equally exhausted, all turned in early. After your shower, washing off a mix of sunscreen, tanning oil and lake water, you walk into the room you and Will are staying in, drop your towel, and pick up his sharks t-shirt. It fits you in that perfect way, coming down to mid thigh. So again, it was you who chose to stay up with Will as he showed you just how much he loved the look of you in his clothing.

But now, it is past 1am, and Will is sprawled out over the bed, his arms reaching out like they are searching for you, only your side of the bed is cold.

—

Colleen walks slowly down the stairs to the kitchen, slowly blinking sleep out of her eyes, but she freezes as she hears a faint clicking coming from downstairs. Clicking which sounds like the door lock on the sliding glass doors that lead to the patio.

She frowns, walking fully up. And as she slowly looks around the corner, she sees you.

You’re standing in front of the doors, your hand pulling uselessly on the lock. Your hair is curly from all the lake water, but plopped in a huge bun on your head, pieces falling down on the sides of your face. Will’s Sharks t-shirt covers your frame, but it’s large enough on you that it leans off one of your sun tanned shoulders.

“Honey?” She says, squinting a bit as she walks closer to you.

But you don’t look towards her, it’s almost like you didn’t even hear her. You just keep pulling on the lock, your breathing labored, panicked sounding almost.

“Sweetie.” She says, a bit more firmly but still coated in softness and comfort.

Your head moves towards her at that. As Colleen takes in your appearance her heart hammers. You look… different. Your eyes are glassy and slightly squinted. Your body is stiff and you seem like you’re floating somewhere else.

That’s when it hits her, she remembers it clear as day. A phone call she had with her son a long time ago when she asked how you were doing. Will had told her about this.

“She’s okay. Work’s been taking a lot out of her recently, she actually started sleepwalking occasionally.”

“Sleepwalking?” Colleen parroted back to him.

“Yeah, it’s rare. She only does it when she’s overly tired. Freaked me out the first time, I honestly didn’t know she was asleep.”

So Colleen makes sure her expression is soft and loving, her normal expression when she is talking to you, and she listens as you finally manage to speak.

“I have to get him.” You mumble, your voice so soft she could have easily missed it.

“Get who, honey?” Colleen asks you.

“Rigney.” You say, turning back towards the lock.

Colleen’s eyes flick to the chair in the living room, where Rigney is lying, perfectly safe, and still asleep. She glances back to you, wanting nothing more than to show you the family’s dog is inside, but it seems evident that you’re not abandoning the door without some persuasion.

“Rigney’s inside already, sweetie.” Colleen says very gently, trying not to startle you. “He’s in his normal chair in the living room.”

“No. He’s cold. Colleen he’s out there.” You say, a slight panic starting to rise in your tone. Your glossy eyes get glossier as you beg her to hear you, beg her to listen to you.

“Okay, okay.” She says, stepping closer and noting the shaking of your hands, and the way your chest moves rapidly. “Why don’t you sit down quick and I’ll go grab Will. He’ll help us look okay?”

“Will?” You question, and for a second she swears she can see the fully awake you at the sound of her son’s name.

“That’s right.” Colleen says, leading you so carefully that you think it’s your choice to sit down. “You stay right here while I grab him, alright?”

You only nod in response, but your eyes stay locked on the doors. “Tell Will to hurry, he’s all alone out there, I don’t want him to be scared.” You whimper, and Colleen’s heart cracks at how upset you sound. She’s a mother after all, she wants to fix this, wants to protect you from this, but she knows it’s not her that you need. So Colleen moves quickly, trying to stay silent so she doesn’t wake the rest of the house. She opens the bedroom door, and goes to the side of the bed that Will is sleeping on.

“Will.” She says, setting her hand on his shoulder, but he doesn’t budge. “Will.” She says again, a bit louder as she shakes him lightly.

Will opens his eyes, and takes only a second before he’s looking at his mom in worry. That’s when he notices you’re gone, and the sheets are cold enough to tell him you’ve been gone for quite some time. Will’s heart leaps out of his chest, you missing, his mom looking a bit panicked.

“Mom-“

“She’s alright. She’s downstairs, I think she might be sleep walking.”

Will didn’t need to hear anything else, he didn’t bother with a shirt or shoes as he starts going down the steps. He knows not to startle you, so as he walks into the kitchen he does so as calmly as possible.

“Baby?” He asks, as he sees you. Sees the way you’re stiff, and as if you’re not really here. You turn your face towards his at the sound of his voice.

“Will, he’s out there.” You say, standing up in panic as Will makes his way over to you. He’s crouching a bit, trying to stay eye level with you.

“Who’s out there?” Will asks you, and it kills him to not reach out and tuck your curly strands of hair behind your ears.

“Rigney.” You say, and you choke on the name.

Colleen looks at Will, and he tracks her eyes over to the chair where Rigney is still sound asleep.

“Okay, well let me sit down and put my shoes on and we’ll go look.” Will says, secretly trying to lead you into the living room. You follow him blindly, like you always do.

But then your brain freezes when you hear the familiar shake of metal dog tags, and all of a sudden a wet nose comes and pokes your shin.

“See baby? He’s inside, he’s safe.”

“But he was-“ you start to say, pointing to the doors. “He was out there, and he was cold.” You try to justify.

Rigney jumps on the couch, and Will watches as you reach your hand out and touch the soft fur of the dog.

“He’s warm, he’s here with us.” Will comforts you as tears leak from your eyes. “Hey, hey.” He says, and even in your sleeping state you throw yourself against his chest. The warmth of his skin grounds you, just as much as the familiar smell of his body wash.

Colleen smiles sadly and looks away as Will comforts you. His hand on the back of your head, while one runs up and down your spine through his t-shirt. He waits, while throwing small comforting words in here and there until your cries soften.

“He’s safe?” You ask one more time, and Will smiles at you, your glossy eyes shining in the light of the moon that’s filling the living room.

“He’s safe. Just like you.” He says. “Do you want him to sleep with us tonight? That way we can watch him?” Will asks, and you just nod, tears back in a steady stream down your cheeks. His wipes them away with his thumb, and your eyes stay glued to the dog like he might vanish if you look away.

Getting you to believe Rigney was in the house wasn’t very challenging, but getting you back up the stairs proved to be more difficult than he thought. Rigney of course bolted straight up, making a beeline for the room. You took the steps slowly, Will next to you the entire time. Halfway through you just stopped, and he quietly and calmly reassures you that Rigney is probably sitting on your pillows waiting for you.

Colleen stayed behind you the entire time, far enough away so you don’t feel crowded, but close enough that if for whatever reason you fell backwards she was there to catch you.

But most importantly, they didn’t rush you. They took each step one at a time, and in your hazy fog and confusion, you let Will guide you. By the time Colleen made it to the top step, she wished you both a goodnight, and unknown to you looked at her son, quietly asking if he’s got you. He nods, and turns your body slowly to get into the bedroom.

Sure enough, Rigney has taken over your side of the bed. His head is resting on your pillow as if he’s using it, and for a smaller dog he manages to take up a lot of room.

Will walks you to his side of the bed instead, pulling back the covers and helping you get tucked in. Will slips in next to you, keeping you in the middle while he was dangerously close to the edge. But he pulls you flush against him, your back on his chest, your legs finding comfort tucked under his.

You don’t speak, you just close your eyes, listening to the soft words from your boyfriend. Little “sleep baby” or “you’re safe” or kisses on the top of your head.

To no surprise of Will, it didn’t take long for you to completely pass out, but Will stayed up for a little longer. Almost afraid that you’d manage to slip out again without him knowing. The thought of you getting outside in the dark, alone, with no shoes on, and near an open body of water was enough to scare him senseless. But he reminds himself too, that you’re right here.

He finally drifts off with the image of you sleeping in his chest burned into his brain, not that he’d ever want to forget it anyway.

—

As morning came, Colleen makes her way up the stairs to knock on the door. She didn’t tell anyone else what happened last night, not knowing if you’d be embarrassed or not. As she’s faced with the door it’s cracked slightly, Will must have left it open last night only a sliver in case Rigney needed something.

She opens it a tiny bit more, just enough to poke her head in to wake you guys for breakfast. But she stops, and nothing comes out of her mouth as she takes in the sight before her.

The three of you are curled into each other. Rigney spread out but pressed against your chest, and Will pressed up against your back. The three of you completely sound asleep. The dog and Will guarding each side of you like neither of them wanted you to slip away.

“Oh shit!” You exclaim, as you both freeze in place. Your once white shirt is now light brown, sticky drops of your coffee landing on your only clean acceptable pair of work pants. The man in front of you looks horrified, his bright eyes going wide, and a large smile dropping off of his face. He’s tall, so tall that you have to move your head up a bit to see him. He’s wearing a zip up with what looks like a small shark emblem in the corner, his hat is backwards, and his eyes move from your ruined shirt, up to your eyes, and back to your shirt.

“Oh my god.” He says, immediately setting down his very full cup on the counter. “I am so sorry.” He reaches for napkins and starts moving as if he’s about to try to help you clean up, until he realizes he can’t pat dry some random women’s chest in the middle of a coffee shop. “That is, wow. I’m so sorry that was completely my fault.” He says again.

You fight the urge to laugh, not only are you running ten minutes behind, but the presentation you’re supposed to be giving in 30 minutes you’ll now have to give with a brown shirt instead of a white one.

“It’s okay.” You say, moving so you can stand in a not so crowded spot of the shop while you take the napkins in his hand to start dabbing yourself dry.

“I’m Will,” He says quickly, cringing a bit as you clean the spill. “Sorry. That’s probably the least important thing to you right now. I’m such an idiot.” He says.

You fight a smile, because what else can you do? “Nice to meet you, Will the idiot.”

His laugh is consuming, and as soon as he does, your focus snaps to him, to the sparkle in his eyes and the way he looks like pure sunlight.

“Can I please buy you another coffee? Or pay for this to be cleaned? Or literally anything to make this better?” He asks.

“I would normally fully take you up on that, however I have a meeting in…now,” You check your watch. “20 minutes, so I really have to go.” You say with a small smile.

“No.” He says, like that news is the worst possible thing for him to hear.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” You joke, trying to make the mood lighter. But you watch as he unzips his zip up swestshirt from his frame, and he hands it over to you. “What are you doing?” You ask him, staring at the offering in front of you.

“Fixing my crime.” He says sheepishly. “Please, I feel horrible and I can’t let you go into a meeting with that.” He says pointing to his alleged crime.

“It will be fine Will, really.” You say softly, but his hand does not retract. If anything he shoves it out more. So, against your better judgment you take the zip up. The smell hits you instantly as you put it on, clean laundry, and something woodsy and warm hitting your nose.

“It is clean, I just wore it here.” He rambles, and for some reason it makes you smile. He’s nervous, nervous and apologetic. “Plus, it looks better on you anyway.” He says, before freezing like he can’t believe those words just came out of his mouth.

You smile wider now, laughing a bit as you hold out your hand. “Give me your phone, Will.” He pauses, almost like he can’t believe you’re being so nice after this. You notice his eyebrows shoot up so you continue. “So I can text you to give this back to you.” You state, and he snaps out of it to hand you his phone. You put your contact information in, but add under your name, coffee victim. He looks at the contact and laughs as he locks his phone and puts it back in his pocket.

“I am so sorry, Y/N.” He says again as you walk towards the doors.

“Have a good day, Will.”

—

Needless to say your coworkers, and managers, had a lot to say about your appearance. They all begged to see the ‘crime’ and as you unzipped the sweatshirt before your presentation everyone thought this was the funniest thing they’ve seen in a while. It wasn’t until someone said, “who’s Smith?” That you actually started to piece together who it was that spilled coffee all over you.

The sharks logo on the sweatshirt, the name on the back. Of course, are you dumb? It’s the hockey team, the San Jose Sharks.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket before you could look him up.

Will: Hi, this is Will, you know the guy who threw coffee at you this morning. Did the zip up do its job?

You smile and let out a small laugh at the question, before quickly replying.

Y/N: Barely, but now I’m getting questions over why I’m wearing an apparently famous hockey players clothing

Will: Sorry about that, I owe you a lot. Especially a new coffee

Y/N: That’s a little dangerous coming from you, don’t you think?

Will: It will go directly from the barista’s hand to yours, I wouldn’t even look at it

You laugh out loud in your office, and type back.

Y/N: Are you normally like this before noon?

Will: Normally I wait until after practice

Y/N: Ah, the San Jose Sharks practice? Are you perhaps famous, Will Smith?

There was silence for a second, and you wonder if your teasing isn’t coming across as teasing. But that thought was snuffed out as soon as the three dots appeared once again.

Will: I am slightly recognizable in specific buildings. But don’t google me, I’d rather you know me as the panicked coffee guy instead

—

For the next week, you’re glued to your phone. You and Will text non stop, and at some insane hours of the day. You chalk it up to him being awake because of hockey or traveling.

Y/N: How can I return the zip up you sacrificed for me?

Will: How about dinner? Tonight?

You stop, look away, and then look back. He can’t possibly be asking you out, you shake your head and type back.

Y/N: Sure, just let me know where you are and I can meet you in the parking lot or something.

You send it before cringing slightly.

Y/N: That sounded slightly like a drug deal

Will: I wanted to ask you out normally before asking you to come to drug deals, but I guess you beat me to the punch

Y/N: You want to ask me out?

Will: I did ask you out

Will: But yes. Y/N, would you like to go on a date tonight?

You stop in your tracks, your heels stopping against the floor in the break room, and you can’t help the smile that blooms over your entire face. But then it drops, as you remember the girls night you have planned it your best friends.

“Fuck,” you whisper silently to yourself.

Y/N: Tomorrow night? I’m sorry, my best friend just went through this break up and all of us are coming together for a wine night. Plus I’m in charge of the wine which means I have to track down our favorite kind

Y/N: I swear I’m not blowing you off

You stare at the two text messages, embarrassment flooding your body. But his response makes your smile return.

Will: Tomorrow night then. I’ll pick you up. Sorry to hear about your friend, but a wine night sounds dangerous

Y/N: As dangerous as a coffee shop?

Will: No, significantly less

—

Will texts you when he’s on his way, telling you to wear ‘comfortable couch clothes’, and bring a sweatshirt. You respond with a fun and flirty message, just like you guys have been doing this entire time. And it doesn’t take long for a car to pull up outside your small house, and for Will to step out of it. His gaze goes up and down your frame, and for a second you think you’re not dressed correctly.

Your linen pants are blowing lightly in the breeze, and your top is casual enough to be a normal house shirt, but still nice enough to look like you put effort in, which you are trying to hide the fact that you did. Your hair is done in soft waves, your makeup also so light but noticeable if you’re standing close, and your strappy sandals giving you a few extra inches of height. You don’t miss Will noticing every detail about you, and you smile as you take him in as well.

“You look,” He starts as you walk towards him, his sweatshirt clean and thrown over your arm. “Just, wow.”

“Thank you.” You joke, as he opens the passenger door for you.

Once he gets in and starts driving, you both fall into a comfortable conversation, the same teasing words you’ve been giving over text, but this time with the ability to see how bright his eyes get every time he asks you something about yourself. You don’t even realize where you are until he puts the car in park.

“Here’s my plan.” He says, turning towards you. “Pick up pizza, and then a quiet spot, very low key.” He explains almost like he’s nervous you’ll hate it.

“That sounds perfect.” You say with a smile as he takes you into the small pizza joint. You both negotiate a pizza order, which isn’t hard because you find that you like the exact same things.

It wasn’t until youre back in the car, the smell of a pizza filling it and making your stomach rumble that you spot the bottle in the backseat. A bottle that looks suspiciously like the bottle of your best friend and your favorite wine. The same wine that took you hours to track down last night. The same wine you remember complaining to Will that he hasn’t lived until he’s tried it.

“You found it?” You ask him, not believing what you’re seeing.

“You said it was your favorite.” He says with a small shrug, like this wasn’t one of the best things someone has done for you.

“Will that’s expensive, and like impossible to track down.”

“You’re worth it.” He says, a little shy. But your smile blooms again, and you realize you might be in way over your head when it comes to him.

“Thank you.” You whisper, like you couldn’t trust your voice to say it any louder.

—

You didn’t realize how much Will had brought until he was carrying it up a small hill just outside San Jose.

“Let me-“ You start to say, but each time he shoots you down. Once you got to a certain spot half under a tree half under the open sky, Will sets up shop. He throws a blanket big enough for five people down in the grass, and lays out the pizza boxes, the wine, and other drinks and snacks he somehow managed to carry.

You guys talk for hours. The sun keeps slowly slipping down the sky, birds chirp, and it wasn’t until the slight chill swept through the air and the crickets started to sound that you knew you’ve been here for hours. But you had no intention of leaving, and neither does Will.

He asks you about your job, your friends, your family at first. But you can’t help but find yourself going into detail about everything, about where you grew up and how the move to San Jose was terrifying at first. He tells you about growing up with hockey and continuing his life with it. He tells you about college, about getting drafted, about the Sharks and about Macklin.

“He did what!?” You exclaim, leaning over in laughter as Will retells it.

“He did pay for it, but still I drove around with this giant crack in my windshield. And every day when I would go to pick him up he’d smile at it.” Will says with laughter. You guys are closer now, the pizza long since eaten, and the wine bottle half empty. He leans on his elbow, his body angled to face you while the rest of him is laying down on the blanket. You’re the same, only as the hours continue to pass you swear the closer you guys are getting to each other.

“He sounds fun.” You say, smiling at Will.

“He’s my best friend, I can’t image doing all this without him.” You watch him as he says it, you note the soft smile on his lips, and the way the sun casts everything in a pink orange glow. “He’d really like you, you know.” Will says after a moment of silence.

“Macklin?” You question, but you know that’s who he means.

Will nods, and he looks at you with a warm intensity. “You guys are similar, so for my sake I might keep you hidden for a while.” He jokes, but his eyes are soft, and they glance to your bare arms as a rush of wind causes goosebumps to rise on your arms. “Here.” He says, reaching behind him to give you his sweatshirt.

“I did bring my own, you know.” You state, but you grab for the one outstretched in front of you.

“I know. But I think I like the look of you in mine more.” He states, and as your fingers brush you let them linger. “Plus, this way you’ll have to see me again to return it.”

You laugh loudly, throwing your head back. “That’s your grand plan? Every date to give me something so I’ll see you again?”

Will doesn’t respond as you slide the sweatshirt over your head, he only watches and commits the look of you in his sweatshirt into his memory. This time it isn’t the San Jose Sharks that you are representing. But instead a black sweatshirt with RED BULL printed on the front. You watch him as he takes it in, watch as the blush returns to his cheeks, and as his fingers gently brush a thick strand of your curls out from under the sweatshirt collar. His fingers stay there, planted right under your ear, and you know he can hear the gasp exit your mouth at the movement.

“I’m trying so hard to be respectful.” He whispers, his eyes moving between your eyes and your lips. And in that moment, you have never wanted more than for him to follow through on something.

“What does it look like when you’re not?” You ask him, leaning slightly closer, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes as he responds.

“Like this.” And he leans in. His hand planting firmly but softly behind your ear as he closes the gap between you two. You on instinct move into his space, your body molding into his as your own hands move to touch him. The kiss starts out gentle, but it deepens as you let out a noise that’s swallowed by his mouth. He pulls away gently, smiling at you, and you know your face is revealing just how much you enjoyed that.

“What?” He asks with a small laugh.

“Nothing.” You nearly whisper, moving your hands up to slowly brush a curl out of his face.

“That doesn’t look like nothing.” He says, moving slightly into your touch as your fingers do not let up.

“It’s just,” You start, watching him watch you. “That was a really good kiss.” You say, and you laugh as his cheeks go pink again.

“Yeah?” He questions, and you nod. “Good, because I’ve been thinking about doing that for a while.”

“A while?” You question, and he nods.

“I think since you zipped up my hoodie that had my name on the back.” He admits, and you lean in then to kiss him again. Like the small confession was the nail in the coffin. Will Smith is sweeping you off your feet.

It wasn’t long until he was laying down on his back, pulling you in so your head is resting on his chest as you both stare at the stars. One arm tucked against your waist, holding you steadily into his warmth. The other running softly through your hair as you guys continue to talk.

“There.” He says, pointing to the sky.

“I see the Big Dipper.” You say, your eyes scanning the stars. “But I’m still not seeing the small one.”

He takes your hand gently, moving it so he is using your finger to point to it for you. His warm hand engulfs yours, and you can’t escape the flutter in your stomach at the feeling. He traces your finger in the air, and you finally see it. The Small Dipper.

“I thought you were an athlete, not an astronomer.” You joke, and Will laughs as he lowers both of your hands, bringing your palm over to rest on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat, a bit fast, but also strong and steady.

“I think I could stay here for a very long time.” You whisper, your eyes still scanning the stars above.

“Under the stars? Or with me?” He asks softly, and you can tell his gaze has found its way to you.

“Both.” You say with complete honesty.