Tumblr Tuesday: This one's light on the heat but heavy on the rivalry.
If Heated Rivalry left a hockey(-ish)-shaped hole in your life, if Hudcon at the Golden Globes isn’t enough for you, if you’re looking to replicate the drama, the jerseys, the intensity, and, well, the hockey vibes—may we offer you some NHL? The fandom has been here all along, and they’re out there liveblogging their faves’ way to the top. Here’s some of the fan art they’re making along the way.
(tap on the attribution to go to the original post :)
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
╰ Synopsis You and Connor haven’t been dating for long, so you still feel shy around him. You decided to buy an 98 necklace to start feeling more open around him, and Connor absolutely loves it.
tags/contains Connor Bedard x fem!reader. Fluff, established relationship, shy reader, idk 😔, 1.2k words, requested.
➺ from Sera, to you📨. This is short but pls I’ve been writing shi I’m never gonna post; basically bec I just wanna read stuff and no one can fulfill my exact needs so I’m doing it myself 😭😭
masterlist ᥫ᭡ please reblog this fic if you enjoyed it!
You and Connor haven’t been dating for very long, so you were still a little shy when it came to anything that had to do with him.
Compliments made your cheeks burn. Wearing his jerseys made you nervous. Even holding his hand in public sometimes made you feel some things.
Most girls would have already been proudly wearing their boyfriend’s number by now, but the thought of anyone knowing how gone you were for Connor still made you nervous. You didn’t understand why he had this effect on you? he was just so him.
Even Connor didn’t fully understand it. He always made sure you felt safe and comfortable, never pushing you past what you were ready for. He’d wait patiently when you hesitated to hold his hand in front of his teammates, never complained when you changed the subject after he complimented how pretty you looked, and always asked before pulling you closer on the couch.
He was everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. But still, he couldn’t figure out why you stayed so shy around him.
He’d thought the nervousness would fade after a few weeks, the way it usually did for most people. But time had passed, and you still blushed at the smallest things. He’d brushed it off eventually, telling himself you’d open up when you were ready, since you never said anything was wrong.
Yet deep down, he wished you’d wear his stuff proudly one day.
You were wandering through the mall after grabbing a few groceries, the bag swinging lightly from your wrist. The afternoon was quite boring and you had some time to kill before heading home.
As you passed a small jewelry store tucked between a coffee shop and a clothing boutique, something made you pause. The display window sparkled with delicate pieces, and on impulse, you stepped inside.
The store smelled faintly of vanilla and polished metal. Soft lighting highlighted rows of necklaces, earrings, and charms. You wandered over to a section of tiny gold number charms designed to dangle from chains, each one elegant and understated, numbers from 0 to 9 available.
Your eyes landed on the 8 and 9 sitting side by side. They looked so simple, yet they instantly reminded you of Connor. A small smile tugged at your lips as warmth bloomed in your chest.
If you were still this shy around him, maybe it was time to take a tiny step. Wearing his number every day, could help you get comfortable with the idea of belonging to him a little more openly.
You approached the counter where a friendly older woman was arranging a tray of rings. “Hi,” you said softly. “Could I get the 8 and 9 gold charms, please? And would it be possible to put them on a thin gold necklace chain?”
The woman smiled warmly. “Of course, dear. Would you like the chain in 16 inches or 18?”
You hesitated for half a second, then nodded. “18 inches is fine. Thank you.”
You explained to the older lady how you wanted the numbers arranged. “Could you put the 9 first and then the 8 right after it, so it looks like 98 from the front?” you asked.
The woman nodded with a little smile. “Of course.” She worked quickly and carefully, attaching the tiny gold charms so they dangled side by side, the 9 and 8 forming Connor’s number perfectly. You paid and slipped the pouch into your bag.
Later that evening, you texted Connor asking if he wanted to come over for dinner, you’d promised to cook one of his favorite dishes. He replied almost instantly saying he’ll be there.
You decided on a simple blue tank top that dipped just low enough. The thin gold chain felt cool against your skin, the small 98 resting right at the center of your chest. It still made you a little shy, but you wanted him to see it.
When Connor knocked on the door, you opened it with a soft smile. He stepped inside and immediately pulled you into a warm hug, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“Hey, baby,” he murmured happily.
You hugged him back for a moment before gently pulling away. “Dinner’s almost ready. I just need to finish the sauce.”
While he shrugged off his jacket and shoes, you hurried back to the kitchen. A minute later you heard his footsteps behind you. Connor walked up and wrapped his arms around your shoulders from behind, leaning down so his face tucked into the curve of your neck. He pressed a light, lingering kiss there that made you smile and tilt your head slightly.
“Mmm, smells amazing,” he said against your skin. You felt the cool metal of the necklace shift as his chin brushed it. He paused. “Put on a necklace?” he asked, the smile clear in his voice.
“Mhm,” you answered softly.
He pulled back just enough to gently turn you around to face him. His hands stayed on your waist as his eyes dropped to your chest. The moment he saw the tiny gold “98” resting against your skin, his expression changed.
Connor’s eyes widened, a genuine smile spread across his face. A faint blush crept up his cheeks as he stared at the necklace, his thumb absently brushing the side of your tank top near the chain.
He looked up at your face, eyes soft and still carrying the faint blush. “Is this for me?” he asked.
You nodded, a shy smile tugging at your own mouth. “Yeah. Do you like it?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I like it,” Connor said, letting out a small laugh as he pulled you closer into a tight hug. His arms wrapped fully around you, one hand gently cradling the back of your head while the other rested at the small of your back. “I hope you never take it off.”
“I didn’t plan on it,” you murmured against his chest, the words muffled but sincere. The necklace sat warm between you now.
He pulled back just enough to look at you again, his hands still on your waist. “You know.. I think you look even better with the 98 than I do.”
You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “How could anyone look better than the OG?”
“I dunno..” Connor shrugged lightly. “I never thought someone could, but you proved me wrong.”
The compliment made your cheeks heat up, but you couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped. You turned back toward the stove to stir the sauce, trying to hide how flustered you felt. Connor stayed right behind you, arms loosely around your middle again.
“Seriously, thank you,” he said, voice dropping softer. “It looks so good on you. I don’t understand why you’re so shy when it comes to me. I’m just a guy.”
You glanced over your shoulder at him. “Yeah, just Connor Bedard.”
He chuckled warmly at that, the sound rumbling close to your ear. Then he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. The kiss lingered for a moment before he slowly trailed it toward your lips.
His mouth met yours in a sweet, unhurried kiss. One of his hands came up to cup your jaw tenderly as he deepened it just a little, pouring all the happiness and warmth he felt into that single touch.
glad we agree bedsy's scrum against vegas was hot🙂↕️
how are we feeling about a reader jumps his bones after a game where he gets in a scrum🫣
you’re speaking my language nonnie 🙂↕️ - 18+ mdni fem!reader
connor barely managed to close the apartment door behind him before you were shoving him against it and smashing your lips against his. he wasted no time in kissing you back, it was messy, teeth clashing with spit smearing across both of your lips. connors hands settle on your waist and he pulls you closer to him. he bucks his hips into yours, grinning when a loud moan rips through you.
“what has gotten into you, baby?” connor pants heavily, hands squeezing your hips while he’s trying to keep his eyelids from fluttering shut at the feel of you peppering open mouthed kisses along the base of his neck.
“mmh,” you kiss his neck once more, “that scrum you got in with the korczak, was so hot,” and then you’re back on him, leaving faint trails of saliva on his skin as you kiss back up his neck, then just beneath his ear, then along his jaw and finally you slam your lips against his.
“been worked up all night waiting for you,” you pout, looking at him through your lashes.
“oh yeah,” he smirks at you, “my needy baby.” and he’s kissing you again. slower now, more gentle than before. “ ‘m sorry to have kept you waiting, baby, woulda come home sooner if i’d known.”
connor let’s his head drop to your chest, perfect, he thinks, the shirt you’re wearing leaves just enough of your chest exposed for him. he starts by nipping at the top of your tits, immediately following up by pressing his warm tongue against the sore spots.
once he started, he couldn’t stop mouthing at your tits, not that he wanted to, but especially not with the way you were pulling his hair. both of your hands were tangled in the mess of connors curls, holding his face against your chest.
“what d’you say i make it up to you then,” he murmurs.
“depends on what you have in mind, bedsy,” you smirk biting your bottom lip slightly, knowing the effect the nickname has on him when it’s falling from your lips.
“mmh, you’re evil,” he sighs with a soft chuckle before resting his forehead against yours.
“how about…” he stalls for a moment longer, making you whine and the pout on your lips deepens, “we take this to the bedroom,” he smiles at that slight glazed over look in your eyes “and i make you cum on my tongue at least twice before i fuck you, maybe once on my fingers too if i’m feeling greedy.” his words send a shiver down your spine.
“god, please,” you barely get the words out before connor is turning towards the hallway where your bedroom is. “y’coming baby?” he turns, holding his hand out to you, as he asks the question with a teasing lilt to his voice, letting out a soft huff of a laugh at the way you scramble for his hand.
