val

macklin stumbled through your front door still wrapped in his team hoodie, shoulders hunched in defeat, a storm cloud of exhaustion hanging over his blotchy cheeks. he didn’t even try to fake a smile, just moved straight to you on the couch and crawled into your lap like you were the only safe place left. “bad day,” he mumbled, voice papery thin.

he buried his face in your throat and breathed you in, shuddering. “everything sucked.”

you stroked the hair off his forehead, fingers gentle against the pink flush blooming across his skin, and hummed, “you wanna talk about it?” his head shook tiny, frantic motions. “no. please. just lemme… just—” his hands trembled as they slid down your waist, tugging at the waistband of your sweatpants like a child begging for candy. “need you.”

you could feel the desperation pouring off him, raw and frantic, so you indulged him with a slow nod. he practically keened in relief, sliding off the couch to kneel on the rug between your thighs. “thank you,” he whispered, pressing shaky kisses to the inside of one knee while his fingers peeled your sweats and panties down in one messy tug. “thank you, thank you.” the reverence in his voice never failed to heat your blood. once he had you bare, he spread your knees with eager hands and leaned in, inhaling like the scent alone might heal him. “oh god,” he sighed, eyes fluttering shut, lips hovering a breath above your slick heat. “i missed you so much.”

the first lick was needy, a long, slow drag from entrance to clit that left your spine arching. he moaned into you, the vibration making your thighs quiver, and immediately dove back in, kissing and sucking like a starving man at a banquet. “mmm, so sweet,” he babbled between licks, green eyes glassy when they flicked up to meet yours.

“let me stay here, please. don’t wanna ever stop.” his voice cracked on the plea, and you carded a hand through his hair, pushing him closer. “you gonna forget your bad day down there, baby?” you murmured, amusement curling through the words. he nodded, mouth still sealed to your clit, making a muffled “mhmm” that sent another wave of pleasure rolling through you.

he held your thighs open with shaking hands, forearms trembling as he licked you with single-minded devotion. every swipe of his tongue was accompanied by a whimper, a little “mmf” or “ahh” as if your taste was oxygen. he rutted slightly against the cushion on the floor, utterly unaware of how pathetic he looked, hips grinding for friction he’d never acknowledge.

“you’re so perfect,” he moaned into your folds. “better than anything.” when you tugged his hair to angle his face differently, he simply sighed, “yes, ma’am,” and adjusted without complaint.

sometimes you couldn’t resist teasing. while he was lost in licking circles around your clit, you let your other hand cup his cheek, thumb smearing the sheen of sweat on his flushed skin. “you sure you don’t want me to make you feel good too?” you asked lightly, already knowing the answer.

his entire body tensed, tongue faltering for half a second before he jerked his head up, eyes wide and frantic. “no!” he blurted, horrified. “please don’t. i’m okay, i swear, just let me do this.” the idea of you touching him when he was supposed to be worshipping you made him pale. “i only feel good when you come on my mouth,” he added earnestly, almost teary. “that’s all i need.”

you smirked, patting his head like a puppy. “thought so. get back to work.”

he dove back in with renewed vigor, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes because he needed to prove he could make you forget the world as much as he needed that escape for himself. “taste so good,” he mumbled, words slurred from how ferociously he sucked. “love you so much. please come for me, please, i need it.” he shook his head as if trying to dislodge bad memories, focusing every ounce of attention on mapping every slick fold with his tongue. the whines grew higher with each pass, addictively pathetic, his hips rocking helplessly against nothing.

you let him work, thighs tightening gradually around his head, the sight of his blotchy flushed face buried between your legs sending you spiraling. “good boy,” you praised softly, and he moaned so loud it vibrated through your core, a gushy whimper that sounded close to a sob. he clung to your thighs, nails pressing indentations into your skin. when you finally felt the orgasm building, you tightened your grip in his hair and warned, “don’t you dare stop.” he shook his head wildly, mouth sealed over your clit, tongue hitting the perfect rhythm.

the climax hit hard, ripping through you with a shudder and a moan of “yes, macklin—” and he gasped against you, groaning in relief as if the release was his.

“thank god,” he whispered, lapping up every drop while your body trembled, riding out the waves with a devoted little hum. “so good, so good, give me everything,” he begged, still licking even as you panted for breath. when you finally pushed his head away, he collapsed against your thigh, cheeks shiny with your slick, eyes unfocused and blissed out.

—

When Mack pulls up, you’re standing outside the restaurant like you’ve been kicked out. The place behind you glowing warm in the dark. People were laughing, glasses clinking, someone opening the door and letting out a burst of music.

Mack leans across the center console and shoves the passenger door open. “Well, this looks promising.” He states, trying to gauge your feelings.

You slide in quickly, shutting the door before whispering a quiet, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” He questions, but he knows the answer.

“Make jokes yet, I haven’t recovered.”

He glances at you as he pulls away. “Yet? So jokes are back on the table later?”

“Give me five minutes,” you say, closing your eyes and resting your head back. “Or snacks.”

“I didn’t bring snacks.” Mack whispers to you sheepishly.

“Worst pick up service ever.” You joke, even though you’re well aware you just told him to please refrain from joking.

“You’re right. Next time I’ll bring the pantry.”

That earns him a small smile, but it fades from your face too fast.

“You okay?” he asks you, speaking softer than before.

“Yeah,” you say automatically. Then, “No. I mean…yeah, I’ll live.”

Mack nods, jaw tightening. “What’d he do?”

You exhale, debating whether or not to tell him about your horrible night. “Have you ever sat across from someone and realize that they think they’re the best person alive?”

Mack shakes his head, waiting for you to continue.

“He said-“ but you cut yourself off, groaning. “God, I can’t believe I stayed as long as I did.”

“What did he say?” Mack presses you, and you swear you can see his knuckles tightening around the steering wheel.

Yet, you turn your body to face him, sighing as you say, “He said I could be really pretty if I tried a bit harder on my looks.”

The air in the car goes very still, and Mack swears he stops breathing.

“He said that,” he repeats flatly, stealing glances at you.

“It’s fine.” You say, embarrassment piercing you as your best friend gazes from you, to the road, then back to you.

“No. It’s not actually, it’s not fine. That’s-” He exhales sharply. “That’s-“ Mack is at a loss for words.

“I know.” You say.

“I mean, the nerve, the complete lack of survival skills. Does he know who I am?” Mack asks you as a joke, but as his anger continues to rise the joke becomes less of a, well, joke.

You laugh again, a little more this time. “Oh right, because he would have loved hearing that Macklin Celebrini now has him on his shit list.”

“Please tell me you at least threw your drink at him?” Mack all but begs.

“I thought about it.” You confess, smirking at how badly Mack wanted you to.

“Well, I guess I’m proud of you for showing restraint, but you should have totally threw one, he would have totally deserved it.” Mack says, the anger not going away.

“He was such a tool, and he absolutely deserves it.” You say, wishing you could put this whole awful night behind you.

“Let’s turn around, I’d like to have a word.”

You shake your head, smiling. Then it slips again, your gaze drifting to the window and the streets you pass as Mack continues to drive. “I shouldn’t have gone.”

Mack frowns, hearing the depth in your voice. “Why did you?” He asks, but he’s not sure he wants to hear the answer.

You only shrug before saying, “Because you told me to.”

Mack blinks, mind firing a million miles a second. “I said you should get out there. Not walk into… that.”

Silence settles in again, heavier this time. Streetlights pass in slow motion. You wait a while, unable to bring yourself to admit it, but then you do. You say what you wanted to say all evening.

“I kept comparing him to you.”

“That’s a low bar. I’m barely functional.” Mack chides, but a heat rushes over his cheeks.

“Shut up. You know what I mean.” You huff, as you stare at your best friend.

“Do I?”

“Yes. It just… didn’t feel right. The way he talked, the way he laughed.” You shrug, “I’m used to something else, I guess.”

“Yeah?” Mack questions, trying not to seem nervous. “What’s that?”

You. You want to say it, the one little word. But you don’t.

“Something better, someone better.” You whisper instead. His chest tightens, but he covers it with a crooked smile.

“You deserve better.” Mack says, and the words make your heart beat faster.

“Yeah well,” you say quietly. “I’m not all too sure about that.”

The words hang in the air, heavier than you intended. But Mack notices. Of course he notices. The light turns red, and he stops, fingers tapping once against the wheel before going still again.

“You shouldn’t compare people to me,” he says after a second.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m-” He stops himself, exhales. “I’m not exactly a fair standard.”

You turn toward him slightly. “Why? Because you’re secretly terrible and I just haven’t figured it out yet? Or because you’re an NHL superstar?”

“Both. I’m awful, truthfully. Deeply flawed, that’s at least what Will likes to tell me.”

“I knew it,” you say, nodding at his words and with a lack of better judgement, you find yourself speaking again.

“I just want something that feels easy. Like I don’t have to second guess everything I say. Or wonder if I’m being too much or not enough.”

He swallows. “Yeah.”

“I want someone who knows me.” you say, wincing at the vulnerability.

As the light turns green. He doesn’t move right away, he doesn’t know if he can. But a car honks behind them, and Mack takes his foot off the break.

“Right,” he mutters to you, his jokes from before gone as you turn onto the familiar street that you’ve lived on for a few years. Mack slows in front of your house, but you don’t move. Neither of you make a move actually. But you couldn’t do this, not here, and not now.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” you say.

“Always, Y/N.” Mack replies to you.

You look at him then, really look.

“Hey,” he says.

“Yeah?”

The words die in his throat, because was he really going to say it? Don’t go out with anyone else. It’s you. It’s always been you.

Mack feels his chest tighten. Screw it. He finally thinks, and before he can second guess himself, he says, “Stop going on these dates with men who obviously can’t see how amazing you are. Stop,” his voice cracks. “Stop dating, Y/N.”

“Why?” You ask, taken back by his worlds.

“Because I don’t want to see you with someone else.”

There it is, the confession he’s kept silent since getting drafted to San Jose. The confession he’s wanted to tell you every night.

“You don’t get to say that.” You say with a scoff.

“Why not?”

“Because we’re friends.” But the word feels wrong in your mouth. “That’s all we are.” Mack stares at you like that’s the worst thing you could’ve said.

“Is it?” he asks. “Is that really all it is when you look at me?”

You look away first, because if you catch his eyes you won’t be able to shut this down. “It has to be.” You whisper into the car and the rain is pounding now, loud enough to fill the space.

“I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with this,” he says. “I’m not. I hate it. I hate watching you go out with someone else, like it doesn’t kill me a little each time.”

Your heart stutters, and you can swear Macklin can hear it beating.

“Don’t, Mack.”

“Why? Because it makes it real?” His bright eyes are wide, and he runs his hockey worn hands through his hair.

“Because it ruins everything!” You finally snap, turning on him. “You think I haven’t thought about this? You think I don’t know what happens if we cross that line?”

“Maybe it becomes something better.”

“Or maybe it destroys us!” Your voice breaks, and you hate that it does. “You’re my best friend. I can’t lose that, I can’t lose you, Mack.”

“Fuck.” He says, stress oozing off his body. “You won’t Y/N, I swear-“

But you cut him off before he can finish. “You don’t know that!” You yell, tears mixing with the frustration in your voice. “What if it doesn’t work? What if we mess it up? Then what?”

Mack exhales a breath, shaking his head. “You won’t lose me, I’m here for the long haul. I’m here for you.”

That confession hits harder than anything else. And for a long second, neither of you move. But you’ve had enough, a shit date, followed by an argument with Mack? No, this is more than you can handle, so you reach to open the door, you need to get out of this car, you need to get out of this situation.

“Where are you going?” Mack asks you, but you only shake your head.

“Out,” you say, voice trembling. “I can’t—” but you don’t finish, you just open the door and step into the rain. It’s cold, soaking you in seconds.

“Y/N!” Mack exclaims, but he’s already throwing his own door open, chasing after you. “You’re just going to walk away?”

You turn on him, rain plastering your once curled hair to your face. “What do you want me to say?!” You all but scream.

“I want you to be honest!” Mack fires back.

“I am honest! I’m trying to protect what we have!” You say, hand motioning between the two of you.

“By pretending you don’t feel anything?” he shoots back, stepping closer, rain dripping from his nose. “Because I don’t believe that. Not for a second.”

Your chest rises and falls, fast, uneven. “Stop,” you say, but there’s no strength behind it.

“Tell me you don’t love me,” Mack says to you. “Look me in the eye and say it.”

You wait a second, opening your mouth, but nothing comes out. Rain rushes around you both, loud and relentless.

“I can’t,” you whisper.

At this, his expression shifts, hope evident on his face. “Then why are you fighting this?”

“Because I’m scared!” You admit, raising your arms up with the confession. “Because you matter too much. Because I don’t,” you stutter over your words. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

Mack steps closer to your soaked body, just inches between you now. “You’re not going to lose me.” He whispers.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Mack says. “Because I’d rather risk everything with you than spend the rest of my life watching you be with someone else. Y/N, I love you.” He says, so quiet you’re not sure you heard him correctly over the downpour.

Rain streams down your face, indistinguishable from your tears.

“You’re an idiot, Macklin Celebrini.” You whisper.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah, I know.”

You shake your head, stepping closer to him. But you studies his face, every familiar line, every piece of him you’ve come to love over years.

“I love you too,” you admit, voice barely audible over the storm.

For another moment, neither of you move, the confession hanging between the two of you. But then Mack laughs, sounding almost disbelieving as he pulls you into him. And fuck, you doesn’t hesitate this time.

“Mack-“ you start to say, but the words barely leave your mouth before he’s kissing you.

It’s not careful, it’s not hesitant or nervous. It’s everything that Mack has dreamed of. Messy, needy, and a little desperate.

Your hands fist in his shirt, pulling him closer like you’re afraid he might disappear. His hand slides up to your face, steadying you. Rain soaks through everything, your hair, your clothes, your skin. But how can that matter when you’re kissing your best friend?

You break apart just enough to breathe, foreheads pressing together, both of you laughing a little.

“I think your car might be ruined.” You say, nodding your head to the two open doors that are getting soaked with rain.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You never thought that you would be sent tickets to watch your favourite Ice Hockey team play, for free.

To be honest, receiving these tickets felt like your ‘I’ve made it’ moment. Fuck that Jimmy Fallon interview that caused you to gain millions more followers overnight. Fuck that Graham Norton interview where you were sat next to Sexiest Man Alive, Jonathan Bailey. None of those things made you feel like you had actually ’made it’ in an industry you were trying so hard to fit into.

To you, the idea of ‘making it’ as a singer was when not only you were seen as being influential but your fans were too. When one inside joke in your fandom could cause people to act in a very real way. However, you didn’t feel like you were at that point in your career where you had a big enough fan base for that to happen.

Which is why, when you mentioned, in passing, during an interview, that you were a huge fan of the Boston Bruins, you couldn’t believe it when your fans started tagging you in every video relating to the Bruins they saw. As well and as talking about you, incessantly, in the comments. In all honesty, you found it, not only shocking, but also absolutely hilarious.

The official Boston Bruins social media accounts had wholeheartedly leaned into the joke. Even media outlets had taken to joking about the sudden affiliation between you and the Boston Bruins.

However, there was one person out there who didn’t find it amusing in the slightest. And that person was Connor Bedard.

“Yo have you seen this?” Frank Nazar said, shoving his phone in Connor’s face.

“Dude” Connor mumbled as he pushed the phone away from his face.

“Seriously though. Have you seen it?” Frank repeated.

Connor couldn’t help but sigh. He put the skate that he had been trying to put on down, before looking up at Frank, aspirated.

“No. What is it?”

“Your celebrity crush” Frank said smirking as he waved the phone back in front of Connor’s face.

Connors eyes lit up. “What?” He snatched the phone from Frank’s hands.

“Haha look at you. You are so smitten and you don’t even know her” Frank said, but it fell on deaf ears as Connor couldn’t help but stare at the image on the screen.

The phone was showing a photo of you, a beautiful smile adorning your face, pointing to something on the ice in front of you. Connor couldn’t help but smile softly.

His eyes scanned the photo and that’s when he saw it. Something he hadn’t noticed at first. You were wearing a Bruins jersey. A Bruins jersey. He couldn’t believe it!

“This is from 10 minutes ago” Frank said.

“10 minutes ago?” Connor mumbled.

“Yeah dude. She is apparently in the stands. My girlfriend saw her and snapped this photo cause she knows how obsessed you are with this girl” Frank said as he prised his phone out of Connor’s hands.

“She is wearing a Bruins jersey” another voice chimed in.

“Yeah, she is a fan of them. Apparently… I don’t know why though” Connor muttered.

Why did you have to be wearing the other team’s jersey? At least if you were wearing a Blackhawks jersey, he could pretend it was one with his name on the back.

Connors thoughts were interrupted by a loud voice, shouting “Okay! Everyone ready? Head out to the ice to warm up”

As Connor headed out onto the ice, he kept looking around the stands, trying to catch a glimpse of you. But unfortunately for him, he had no luck spotting you.

Five minutes later, Connor was, hunched over, in the middle of one of his practice drills when Frank skated towards him.

“What?” Connor looked up, expecting Frank to be looking at him. Only, Frank was staring at someone, in the stands, on the other side of the arena.

Connor straightened up before his head turned curiously in the direction that Frank was staring in.

No fucking way.

There you were, laughing at something the guy next to you had said. Who is that next to you? Connor couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

“Bro. Why don’t you just go up to her. Or at least pretend to warm up near where she is sat” Connors head snapped around.

“No way! Are you crazy” he whispered, eyes wide.

“What’s the problem?”

“I can’t go over there!” Connor reasoned.

“Why not? You have a crush on her, so make a move” Frank said, shrugging.

“She is probably with that guy she is sat next to. It’s probably her boyfriend or something” Connor said dejectedly.

“But what if it isn’t” Frank reasoned.

There was a beat of silence.

“Do you think I should go over there?”

“Ugh Jesus” Frank sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically. He grabbed Connor’s arm, practically dragged him across the ice.

When they had reached the other side of the rink, Frank finally decided to let go of Connor’s arm.

“What now?” Connor asked bashfully, eyes wide.

“Warm up! Oh my god” Frank threw his arms up in the air. He was clearly getting more and more aspirated.

“Right. Right. Yeah. Okay. Warm up” Connor murmured to himself, nodding his head.

Connor spent the rest of the warm up time trying not to look in your direction. The one time he did, he made eye contact with you and the smile you gave him, made him feel like his knees were going to give way.

The rest of the team had already started heading off of the ice and back into the tunnel. Connor, due to him being so lost in his thoughts, of which you featured heavily, was one of the last players on the ice.

As he made his way towards the tunnel, he had an idea. Probably a bad idea. Okay, it was definitely a bad idea.

He immediately changed the direction he was skating in and headed straight for the media team sat on the sidelines.

“Hey!” He greeted.

“Connor? Aren’t you supposed to be heading back to the changing rooms?” One of the media girls questioned.

“Yeah but I have a favour to ask” Connor said. He hoped the girl couldn’t see the blush forming on his cheeks.

“Okay… what is it?” The girl asked, grumpily.

Connor moved back from the barrier, his hands reaching for the bottom of his jersey, pulling it up and over his head. He shoved the jersey in the direction of the media girl.

“Can you give this to Y/N?” Connor spoke so fast, he made the sentence sound like one word.

“The singer?” The girl challenged.

“Yeah” Connor remarked, breathlessly.

“Okay. Is that it? Do you want me to tell her it was from you?”

Connor thought for a moment.

“Yes. Actually, no. Do you have any paper?” He inquired.

The girl turned around and grabbed a notebook and a pen from her bag before holding it out to Connor.

“Thanks” he whispered.

He quickly scribbled something down on the page before ripping it out of the book and folding it in two.

“Can you give this to her as well?”

“Of course!” The girl nodded before turning on her heel and rushing off in your direction.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

You were watching the Bruins players leave the rink after their warm up when you felt someone tap you on the shoulder. You turned around to see that a short, brown haired girl wearing a ‘Chicago Blackhawks Media Team’ lanyard and an irritated look on her face, was staring down at you.

“Hi!” You said cheerfully.

“I’ve been told to give this to you” the girl said monotonously, shoving something red in your face. She didn’t even check to see if you had hold of what she was giving you before she turned and swiftly walked away.

“Okay… thanks” you replied, staring at her retreating back in confusion.

You turned back around in your seat, before looking down at the red fabric in your hands, a crumpled piece of paper placed haphazardly on top. You quickly realised what had been given to you, a Chicago Blackhawks jersey.

Why had she given you that? You were clearly not there to support them. You were wearing a Bruins jersey for gods sake! And who had told her to give you this?

You placed the folded jersey on your lap before picking the note up and unfolding it gingerly.

The note read

“I saw you wearing the wrong team’s jersey and thought I’d fix it. - C”

Along with a phone number.

Holy fuck.

You quickly turned your attention to the jersey, unfolding it rapidly. ‘Bedard’ was printed in big white letters on the back.

You couldn’t help the dumbfounded look on your face. The jersey was warm. Had he given you the jersey he was wearing during warm ups? And was that his phone number?

You read the note again. “I saw you wearing the wrong jersey and thought I’d fix it”.

Did he want you to wear his jersey? You decided to just go for it. You removed the Bruins jersey we’re currently wearing, thankful that you had decided to wear a thin tank top underneath, and slipped Connor’s jersey over your head.

If he didn’t actually want you to wear his jersey then you could just put your other jersey back on and no one would be any the wiser.

God you hoped that’s what he meant. You had never admitted this to anyone but you did have a small, teeny-tiny, minuscule crush on Connor. Okay, it was a massive, ginormous crush!

As you were waiting for the players to comeback onto the ice, your thoughts were no longer clouded with the excitement of the game, but of the shyness you felt for wearing a jersey for a team you don’t support with his name and number on the back.

The more you thought about him giving you his jersey, the warmer your cheeks started to feel.

You thought about how he had also given you his phone number.

You decided that if he could be confident enough to ask a member of his team to give you his jersey, then you could work up the confidence to send him a text.

You spent the entire time before the players came back onto the ice typing, deleting and re typing messages to Connor. As soon as you hit send, the teams started emerging from the tunnel.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Connor didn’t get to see the girl give you his jersey but when he came back onto the ice for the national anthems, he made the subconscious effort to look towards where you were sat and saw you wearing the jersey. His jersey. His name on the back. His number on it.

He felt his heart skip a beat at the thought of you wearing his name and number. That was something he definitely wanted to see more of.

You smiled at him softly, pointing at his number on your arm as if it was some sort of inside joke. Something that only the two of you would understand.

It’s safe to say, that game was the best he had ever played.

After hours of being stuck at the arena, he had finally finished his media duties and was allowed to shower and change back into his sweats. He was heading back to his car when he suddenly remembered that he had also given you his number. He fished his phone out of his bag quicker than he thought was humanly possible.

On his lock screen sat one unanswered message.

Unknown Number

Thanks for the jersey! 😉

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

fear wasn’t something y/n felt, it was something she wasn’t familiar with.

through sold out stadiums, headlining coachella, stagecoach, fear wasn’t something she felt. right now, though? knowing that in just a few seconds will would be knocking on her door after almost two years of not seeing him? fear was just about all she felt.

every night for the last two years, just like clockwork, the idea plagued her mind. what would it be like when she saw him again? would it be normal? would he still be the same boy she fell in love with? maybe he was taller, maybe his hair got darker. every single situation had played through her head at least once.

yet nothing quite prepared her for the real thing.

the whole plane ride from argentina to california was spent thinking. not about her new single she planned on releasing, not what she’d have for breakfast. not even if she’d made sure she had all of her luggage, but instead it was what she was going to do when she saw him, and as she paced her apartment back in california, that thought plagued her mind. she’d finally forced herself to sit on the couch, but the nervous bounce of her leg gave away how quickly her mind was working.

will, though? not much better.

he wasn’t his usual self during practice, couldn’t skate as quickly as he usually did, hit the crossbar instead of the back of the net more than he’d like to admit. everyday since that night he ended things, he regretted it. to him it felt like life just wasn’t right. it was, though. he was playing in the nhl, had the best group of people around him, better than he could’ve asked for, but the one person he needed by his side wasn’t there.

she wasn’t there because he’d left her and his heart back in boston.

the thought of seeing her was both terrifying and comforting. terrifying because of the what if’s. what if he’d spent the last two years of his life begging the universe for a second chance, and by the end of it all, it didn’t work again. comforting because for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he got to see his girl. she didn’t know the affect she still had on him, how much she meant to him even after all these years. he wasn’t exactly sure of it either, but sometimes the reminder kicked him square in the chest and knocked the wind right out of him.

as he stood at the front door of her penthouse apartment, he swallowed back the fear that had settled deep in his chest. this was just y/n. the girl he spent everyday with for almost three years, the girl he’d wanted since he said goodbye.

and it was only with that reminder that his knuckles rapped against the wood of the door.

the sound of the knock was a reminder of what was really happening, and she had to wipe her sweaty hands across the fabric of her jeans to even be able to open the front door. she inhaled a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment to regain any sense of normalcy. her feet moved faster than her mind could, and she almost stopped for a moment so she didn’t seem desperate.

was it normal to open the door less than ten seconds after someone knocked? she couldn’t remember, but right now, she didn’t care. as soon as the door opened and she was met with the sight of him, she almost let out a sigh of relief, but she’d rehearsed, and making a loud noise was not apart of her plan. instead, without thinking too much about it, she smiled.

will wasn’t sure what he was feeling. terror, comfort, happiness, anxiety, maybe all of it, but as soon as the door opened and he was met with her familiar blue eyes, he wasn’t sure he felt much of anything anymore. it was almost like his brain just stopped.

god, she was gorgeous.

“hey.” her voice came out a bit smaller than she’d hoped for, but will was right there behind her.

“hi.” he smiled, that same stupid, dopey smile he’d reserved just for her all of those years ago. don’t think she missed that slow blink, either.

she didn’t respond yet, rather just looked at him. not an awkward glance over, just a soft, quiet stare that didn’t strike either of them as uncomfortable. it took a second for y/n to remember how to be a good host, because someone didn’t just leave their guest standing in the door.

“come in." she stepped away from the door, giving him more than enough room to step in.

the conversation flowed easily. it always did between the two of them. when silence filled the air it wasn’t awkward, rather comforting and familiar. even after all those years apart, deep down they were still the same people. the girl who fell in love with boston colleges hockey prodigy, the boy who fell in love with the girl who had the prettiest blue eyes and annoyingly perfect hair. their conversations were familiar. hockey, tour, life. but just like always, they got comfortable. comfortable enough for will to finally tell her the truth. what had killed him since the day he left.

“you know,” he spoke, breaking the comforting silence.

y/n looked over at him, leaning her arm against the back of the couch, cheek in her palm. she didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to for will to know she was listening.

“remember what i said? on the phone the other day?” he asked, and he didn’t mean for his voice to sound as shaky as it did.

she nodded, subconsciously tilting her body towards his. “yeah. about… the truth? right?”

he nodded, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. he’d been through this scenario in his head one too many times. what he’d say, how he’d say it, if he’d dump the whole truth on her or only tell her bits and pieces, but when she was looking at him like that, eyes familiar and warm, he couldn’t hide anything from her. he’d forgotten she had that affect on him.

his nerves were written all over him. in the way his hands seemed a little too restless, his slow blinks turned a bit too fast, and that slight blush to his cheeks that he only got when he was nervous or embarrassed.

“i’m sorry.” was the first thing that came out of his mouth. he needed her to know he was sorry, that he regretted everything. more than anything, she needed an apology. “i’m sorry for the way that i left. you didn’t deserve that. nobody does but… not you. especially not you.”

an apology wasn’t something she was expecting. not because she didn’t think he'd apologize, but rather because she just never really thought about it. things happened, life moved on. she swallowed thickly, shaking her head just slightly. “i’m not upset with you, will.” she said gently. “i just want to understand, you know?”

he knew she needed the truth, and as terrifying as it was, it needed to be said. “i know,” he spoke softly. “i know, and that’s why i need to tell you properly.”

he took a breath, hoping that in someway the breath would say what he needed to say for him. repeating the truth in his head over and over again was one thing, but saying it out loud solidified the truth, his feelings, and that was the scariest part.

“i didn’t leave because i didn’t care.” he said. “it was the opposite, actually. i think i cared too much.”

her eyes searched his, but she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. maybe she was looking for any hint of a lie, or maybe she just couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off of him. she was sure it was the ladder.

the breath he let out was heavy, heavy with the words about to leave his lips. “i was in love with you.” he continued, eyes flickering up to meet hers for a second before dropping again. “like… completely. and it scared me more than anything ever has.”

there was no hesitation in his words. he didn’t try to hide his feelings anymore. he couldn’t.

“i’d spent my whole life working towards hockey.” he said. “everything i did, every decision i made, it all led to that. and then you came into my life and… you mattered just as much. maybe more… a lot more.”

his voice faltered slightly, like even admitting it now still overwhelmed him.

“and i didn’t know how to handle that.” he admitted. “i didn’t know how to be good at both. i didn’t know how to not… mess it up.”

she wasn’t sure how to react. part of her wanted to cry, because she just wished that he’d told her the truth earlier on. but another part of her almost felt relief, like the truth was finally out, she knew how he felt. she inhaled a shaky breath through her nose, and her gaze softened, something almost fond in it.

“you thought you’d lose one or the other.” she said quietly.

“yeah.” he nodded. “and i couldn’t risk losing hockey. but i also couldn’t—” he swallowed, his voice cracking slightly at the thought of his next words.

“i couldn’t stand the idea of hurting you because i wasn’t enough. or because i got too distracted, or too busy, or… anything.”

he shook his head slightly, because he was frustrated with himself even now. he couldn’t understand why he’d thought leaving was the right option. how he’d let himself lose her over the fear of not being enough.

“so i did the worst possible thing instead.” he said softly.

“i left before i could mess it up.”

she didn’t know what to say. what do you say when someone drops the truth like this? she wanted to tell him the truth too, but she couldn’t. she couldn’t tell him that losing him killed her everyday, that he was always her first thought after waking up, that she still loved him. “will…”

“i know,” he rushed out, almost panicked that she might think he was justifying it. “i know it doesn’t make it right. it doesn’t. it never did, and i— i think about it all the time, how i should’ve just stayed and tried, how i should’ve talked to you instead of deciding everything on my own, i owed that to you.”

his voice cracked, just barely, but it showed her the ache he still felt without saying it outright.

“i regret it. every single day.”

those words hung heavy in the air around them. it was honest, he didn’t try to sugar coat it. he regretted it, he had since the day he left, and she needed to know that. he owed it to her.

her expression didn’t harden, it softened even more, if anything. like hearing that didn’t hurt her, it just made her understand him better. because it did. she had the truth now, and though it had haunted her for years, she knew the reason, the real reason, and somehow that made it hurt less.

she wasn’t thinking when she made her next move, but when did she really think around him? she couldn’t, nor when there was this invisible magnetic force between them.

her eyes fell to his hands in his lap, watching the way he picked mindlessly at his nails, something he did when he was nervous, something she noticed before big games, before he told her something he was all anxious about. she’d never forgotten his tells, and maybe that’s why her hand landed on his, her thumb brushing softly against his knuckles.

“you don’t have to punish yourself for leaving.” she spoke softly, almost reverent.

will almost forgot what he was going to say next when he felt his hand on hers. it was familiar, it was them. it reminded him of the way he used to run cold, and her warm hand would always find his. whether it was just them in their dorms, after a game when his hands were red from the cold of the ice. he remembered, and it seemed to hurt more than he’d thought it would.

“i’m not trying to punish myself.” he replied quietly, almost like he was trying to believe himself. “i just… i hate that i hurt you. that’s the part i can’t let go of.”

he looked down at their hands, and before he could think too long about it, fear if she’d pull away or tell him to leave, he laced his fingers with hers.

she didn’t miss it, and in a way it grounded them both. that’s why she squeezed his hand gently.

“i mean, yeah, you hurt me but, i mean, i don’t resent you for that. you just confused me for a bit and that’s… that’s okay. because i know the truth now, and i don't hate you for what you did.”

he let out a shaky breath, something like relief breaking through. “still,” he said, softer now. “you deserved better than how i left. you deserved an explanation. you deserved a chance to decide what we could’ve been.”

breanna nodded slightly. “maybe. but you weren’t ready to give that then.” and it was the truth. nineteen year old her did not think the same way she did now, and now she knew that was the case with will too. and that was okay.

“no.” he admitted. “i wasn’t.” than a small, lingering pause. like every word that left his lips since the beginning of this confession terrified him, and they did. the truth had always scared him, and now he was telling her.

and then, quieter, “but i am now.”

she studied him for a moment, like she was really seeing him, maybe even seeing through him. she saw every bit of sincerity, every ounce of regret he wasn’t trying to hide.

his words hung heavy in the already stuffy air around them. it wasn’t awkward, not uncomfortable, just heavy with the realization that even after all of these years, they still felt the same.

“me too.”

and this time, the truth didn’t feel like something painful or unfinished.

it felt like a promise, a promise to never let each other go again.

it felt like something that, even after everything, still held them together in the softest way.

the next morning.

will and mack.

ynlaurier

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ynlaurier argentina you are soooo beautiful, thank you for one of the best shows so far! 🤍🤍🤍

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fan1 something was in the air tonight i’ve never seen this girl so happy before

fan2 prettiest girl to ever walk the earth

fan3 something fishy’s goin on…

fan4 HELLOOO GORGEOUS

fan5 as someone who was there tonight she was so happy it was so cutie

fan6 purple is ur color

fan7 mommyyyy

lexiwhite mama

_willsmith2 Do you happen to live on pretty girl avenue?

→ fan8 @_willsmith2 IM SO SORRY, WHAT???

twitter.

_willsmith2

liked by ynlaurier, mackcelebrini and 300k others

_willsmith2 @redbullusa

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fan1 like that’s my man thank yeww

fan2 everyone’s favorite redbull athlete

fan3 since ur a redbull athlete does that mean ur gonna do backflips on their account….

fan4 dada

fan5 helloo beautiful

fan6 loving these scraps will thank u

mackcelebrini Hi daddy

→ _willsmith2 @mackcelebrini Can you actually shut up

ynlaurier redbull gives you wingsss

→ fan7 @ynlaurier get ur man back bro

will and y/n.

september 28th, 2025.

ynlaurier

liked by _willsmith2, lexiwhite and 1m others

ynlaurier i just got nominated for a grammy???? hello???? sorry, being sappy on main for a second! this is the most insane thing ever, and i cannot thank you guys enough for loving this album, for loving me throughout the hardships i’d felt while writing, performing. you guys are my everything, and whatever happens, this grammy is for you 🤍

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fan1 SO PROUD OF U BABYY

fan2 i hope u know hurt my feelings means the world to us

fan3 she just gets bigger and better baby

fan4 im crying you deserve this so bad

fan5 y/n grammy sweep iktr

fan6 everyone on three say thank you will smith

fan7 nobody deserves this more than you do pretty

_willsmith2 Proud of you Sunshine. You deserve this a million times over ❤️

lexiwhite my baby 😭😭😭

twitter.

instagram stories / y/n and will.

_willsmith2

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_willsmith2 One more

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fan1 god we’re being fed so good this offseason

fan2 do unspeakable things to me thanks!

fan3 number one macklin celebrity dick rider posted again guys

fan4 go play hockey loser

fan5 FIRST PICTURE HELLOOO

fan6 mm yummy

mackcelebrini Cutie

mackcelebrini Come home

fan7 why does mack have to embarrass himself in the comments every time will posts

instagram stories. september 4th, 2025.

ernie. y/n.

twitter.

y/n and lexi.

ynlaurier

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ynlaurier and we’re backkk! brazil you were everything i could’ve asked for 💛

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fan1 prettiest girl ever

fan2 YOURE SO TEAAA

fan3 dare i say her best show… ever????

fan4 she was extra sad last night i feel so bad

fan5 baby it’s okay maybe we should stop with the athletes

fan6 two athletes fumbling is easily the saddest thing for them

fan7 MY SHOW!!!!!

lexiwhite her portuguese origins r showing

fan8 hi can we try will again 🙂

will and mack.

september 5th, 2025.

_willsmith2

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_willsmith2 One for the books

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fan1 toughhhh

fan2 will smith pro golfer

fan3 this is rich white boy aesthetic if ive ever seen it

fan4 my man my man my man

fan5 y/n ends things w ernie and we find her right back in wills likes 😭 that’s my girl

mackcelebrini Dibs.

mackcelebrini Come home the kids miss you

fan6 will and mack being gay on main

→ fan7 @fan6 fork found in kitchen

fan8 that first picture 🚬🚬🚬

september 6th, 2025.

ynlaurier

liked by _willsmith2, lexiwhite and 2.2m others

ynlaurier HI VOUGUE!!!!!

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fan1 baby’s making it to the big leagues

fan2 WILL LIKE!!!!

fan3 do u guys understand how crazy this is

fan4 gorgeous girl

_willsmith2 Congrats! So proud ❤️

→ ynlaurier @_willsmith2 thank you 🤍

fan5 y/n breaks up w ernie & wills back in her comments iktr

fan6 WILL LIKE AND COMMENT ANCIENT TEXTS R RESURFACING

fan7 she’s the blueprint

twitter.

y/n and cat. september 8th, 2025.

will and tyler.