The players reaction to the fans giving gifts to their girlfriends that isn't famous,like she just have a normal life but date them. Like when youtubers receive mailbox and the fans send present to their child or girlfriends,i think is cute 🥹
unsuspecting gifts
pairings: macklin celebrini, will smith, fraser minten, ben kindel, connor bedard x reader
summary: you didn't expect to get gifts from everyone
warnings: fluff
wc: 1.7k
MACKLIN CELEBRINI
you don't expect to be noticed. at mack's games, you keep things simple -- quiet clothes, quiet presence, just another face in the crowd. you like it that way. it lets your focus on him, on the speed and sharpness of his game, the way everything else fades when he's on the ice.
but tonight, people are looking. it starts subtly -- whispers, glances that linger a little too long. you try to ignore it until intermission, when someone approaches you.
you hesitate, then nod. her face lightens up as she presses a bracelet into your hand, beads in team colours. "i made this for you."
the sweetness of it catches you off guard. "oh thank you," you say softly.
after that, it doesn't stop. someone else hands you a folded note before briskly walking away. by the time the game resumes, your hands are full of little, thoughtful things, kindness from people who don't know you, but still chose you.
it's overwhelming, but gentle. mack finds you after the game, eyes scanning until they land on you. he smiles at first -- then pauses when he sees everything you're holding.
"what happened?" he asks, a quiet laugh slipping through as he drops into the seat beside you.
you lift the bracelet slightly. "look at what your fans gave me."
his expression shift, surprise softening into something more careful as he looks at you. "you okay?"
you nod, a small smile forming. "yeah. it's actually really nice."
relief settles into his shoulders. he nudges your knee, grin returning, softer this time. "they like you," he says.
you shake your head lightly. "i think they just like you."
he glances at the gifts, then back at you, something warm and certain in his expression.
"pretty sure it's you that they love."
WILL SMITH
it's after a game, the arena is still buzzing, the kind of electric energy that clings to will even as he steps out of it. you're half a step behind him, tucking into your usual place -- close enough to matter, far enough to stay out of the spotlight. that's how it's always been. you have your life, your routines, your quiet normalcy. he has...all of this.
so when someone calls your name -- not his -- you almost don't turn.
"hey umm, this is for you."
you blink, surprised, as a fan leans over the barrier, holding out a small gift bag. it's nothing extravagant, just tissue paper and a shy smile behind it. you hesitate, glancing instinctively at will.
he's already looking at you. not confused or annoyed, just soft, like he's trying not to grin too wide.
"go on," he murmurs, nudging your elbow.
you take it, offering a polite thank you, but it doesn't stop there. another voice, another hand, something wrapped this time. then another. suddenly, you're the one being noticed, pulled into the orbit you've always watched from the edges.
it's overwhelming in the gentlest way. will shifts closer, a quiet presence at your side. not possessive or showy, just there with his hand brushing yours briefly, grounding you.
'i think they like you more than me," he says under his breath, amusement threading through it.
you huff softly, still dazed. "they barely even know me."
he glances at you then, really looks, like the answer is obvious. "they know enough."
you don't ask what that means.
later, when you're back in the car, the noise gone and the night settling around you, he reaches over and tugs one of the gift bags into his lap, peeking inside like a kid.
a quiet laugh escapes him. "this one is so you."
you watch him, the way he smiles -- not at the crowd, not for camera, but because of this, and because of you -- and something warm settles in your chest. you're not part of his world, not really. but somehow, they've made space for you anyway, and so has he.
FRASER MINTEN
you're not at the game tonight -- just at home, curled up on the couch with a blanket and your phone on silent, half-watching, half-waiting for him to come home. you like it that way. you're in the quiet of your home, and get to look up to see fraser do what he loves, and he knew that. he's always known you're not one to always love the loud arena, but you're still at home supporting him just as hard.
he doesn't mention anything unusual when he texts you quickly before the game, just a quick thinking of you, like always. it isn't until later, long after the final buzzer, that something feels different. there's a pause before his next message. typing, stopping, typing again.
when he finally calls, his voice is softer than usual, threaded with something fond and a little disbelieving.
he tells you it started with one fan by the glass during warmups, holding out a small, neatly wrapped package, with a small sign saying they had something for you. they didn't ask for a puck like everyone else around them, just if he could give their gift to you.
when he took the gift and said he'd pass it on to you, then came another, and another. by the time he made his way back down the tunnel, he had a handful of little things carefully tucked away. a handwritten note, a bracelet, a tiny keychain. things that felt chosen and made for you, not general things that were bought not too long ago.
he laughs quietly, like he can't quite process it. not in a mocking way, but in a grounded, slightly shy way he has when something catches him off guard.
"they just...wanted you to have all these."
you can picture the way he'd say it, shrugging a little, like he doesn't want to make it bigger than it is. but you hear the undercurrent too -- the protectiveness, the quiet pride. the way he didn't brush it off, and let the staff hold onto the gifts. he kept every single one, ready to bring them to you.
later, when he gets home, he sets them out for you with surprising care, like they're fragile. like they matter only because they were for you. and when you look up at him, a little overwhelmed by the amount of things people had to gift you, he just smiles, easy and steady.
BEN KINDEL
you stand a few steps off to the side, arms crossed, trying to look casual while ben signs autographs for a long line of fans. even on a day off, he's magnetic -- smiling, joking, shaking hands with everyone. your chest swells a little watching him.
"here you go," someone says suddenly, holding out a small wrapped package. you blinked, startled. "uhh...this is for you."
you glance around, confused, but the fan just smiles and nods before moving on. you're now holding a little gift, your cheeks heating a bit. you weren't expecting anything -- you though that no one really knows you, and didn't really think that people would care to give you something.
before you can overthink it, ben notices. he's mid-signature, but his eyes catch the exchange. his brow arches as he waves at you. "hey! is that...for you?"
you nod, a little shy. "yeah...i guess someone actually knows about me."
ben's grin spreads wide, genuine and teasing. he finishes up the autograph he's signing, quickly making his way over to you with easy confidence. "well, look at that," he says, crouching slightly to get closer. "you've got yourself your own fans."
you laugh nervously. "i didn't expect this when i decided to come today."
"exactly," he says softly, draping an arm around your shoulders. "you're just being you, and somehow, people already love you for it. and let me tell you? i do too. probably more than anyone here." his thumb brushes your arm gently.
you shake your head, smiling. "ben-"
"nope," he interrupts, smirking. "this is official. you get lovely gifts, and i get to have the proud boyfriend look. deal?"
you laugh, leaning into him. "deal."
he kisses your temple, then looks down at the small package in your hands with a small grin. "seeing people love you just as much as i do has officially made my day...though i might be a little jealous of whoever gave you this."
CONNOR BEDARD
the engine hums low as connor pulls out of the arena parking lot, one hand loose on the wheel, the other tapping lightly against it. you're mid-sentence about something completely normal -- groceries, maybe, or a show you want to watch -- when he exhales a quiet laugh.
"still interesting," he says, glancing at the small crowd gathered near the exit. "they wait out here every time."
you shrug, used to it by now. "i mean, you're kinda a big deal."
he huffs. "kinda?"
as the car slows, a few fans try to get closer, waving. connor rolls down his window automatically, his posture shifting -- polite and practiced, expecting they want to take a photo with him or want him to sign something as usual.
a girl at the front beams, but her eyes flick past him -- straight to you.
"oh my god, hi!" she says.
you blink, not expecting to be talked to. "hi?"
connor's brows knit slightly. he glances at you, then back at everyone, confused but still smiling. "did you want a photo, or-?"
"actually," another fan cuts in, holding up a small gift bag, "this is for you." she leans a bit, offering it toward the window.
you freeze. "for...me?"
connor fully turns now, his confusion obvious. "wait, what?"
the first girl nods eagerly. "we just think you're really cool, and wanted to give you this."
connor lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh. "you guys are bringing her gifts now?"
you nudge his arm lightly. "don't sound so offended."
"i'm not offended," he says, trying to defend himself, shaking his head even though a grin breaks through. "i just- this is new."
you accept the bag carefully. "thank you! this is really sweet."
another fan hands over something small -- a handmade bracelet. "we see you at games sometimes," she says. "and you just seem really nice."
connor leans back in his seat, watching you with an expression that softens into something quieter, more personal. "they like you more than me," he mutters.
you smile, glancing at him. "obviously."
he snorts, but there's pride in it. "yeah," he says, pulling the car forward once the crowd clears. "obviously."
a/n: i'm starting a movement and putting all of you guys on my other goat ben kindel
song on repeat: not a song, but i'm watching the pitt :P
