#sjsblurb

[baobeishark]

Can I request singing karaoke with Will Smith when the SJS team get together for family night?

family night (will smith x reader)

word count: 1,350+ words

a/n: post number eight! 🩵 swapping the track to nothing's gonna stop us now by starship. will is completely domestic, and so deeply deeply in love with you. enjoy this sweet night out!

let 'em say we're crazy, what do they know? put your arms around me, baby, don't ever let go...

the private room at the downtown san jose karaoke bar was absolute, unadulterated chaos.

the sharks had secured a massive four-game win streak, and the energy was dangerously high. the room was a blur of neon green and purple lights, half-empty platters of sliders, and the deafening sound of a bunch of professional athletes who could skate like the wind but couldn't carry a tune to save their lives.

currently, macklin and fabian were sharing the stage, aggressively screaming the lyrics to a throwback rap song into two different microphones, completely off-key.

you were sitting in the back corner of the wrap-around leather booth, a bright, helpless laugh bubbling past your lips as you watched the spectacle. you were completely tucked against will’s side. his large, heavy arm was draped securely over your shoulders, his fingers playfully twisting a loose strand of your hair as he watched his teammates lose their minds.

will looked casual tonight—just a soft, fitted black t-shirt that showed off the broad line of his shoulders, his damp hair messy from a quick post-practice shower. every now and then, he’d lean down, his lips brushing against your temple as he murmured a private joke into your ear over the loud music, making you giggle and hide your face in his chest.

"i'm telling you, they’re getting kicked out of here if they hit that high note any flatter," will whispered against your ear, his chest rumbled with a low chuckle.

"oh, let them have their fun," you teased, looking up at him through your eyelashes, your hand resting flat against his chest. "i think mack is actually trying his best."

"mack has zero rhythm," will scoffed playfully, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners with that boyish, charming smile you loved so much.

before you could respond, the song ended with a loud, static screech from the speakers. macklin pointed a sweaty finger straight at your corner of the room, his eyes glittering with pure mischief. "alright! next up! we need the rookie king and his girl on the mic! smitty, get up there!"

the entire room immediately erupted into loud, feral barking noises. henry thrun started pounding his fist on the table, matching the rhythm of the team chanting, "smitty! smitty! smitty!"

you instantly flushed a bright, furious pink, shaking your head frantically as you tried to shrink back into the leather cushions. "oh, no, no, no. i am strictly an audience member tonight, guys. absolutely not."

"come on! don't leave him hanging!" misa boomed from across the room, tossing a wireless microphone directly into will’s lap.

will caught it effortlessly with one hand, a slow, confident smirk spreading across his lips. he didn't look nervous at all. in fact, he looked utterly delighted by the challenge. he looked down at your blushing face, his large hand sliding down to grip your waist, gently tugging you toward the edge of the booth.

"come on, baby," will murmured, his voice low, private, and dipping with an absolute, infectious amount of charm. "you can't let them win. just one song. i'll do most of the singing, i promise."

you looked at his dark, glittering eyes and the crooked smile that always made your knees go entirely weak, and you knew you stood absolutely zero chance of saying no to him.

"fine," you sighed dramatically, a bright, giggly smile breaking through your shyness. "but if we ruin the team chemistry with how bad this is, it's on you."

"deal," will chuckled, pushing himself up from the booth and pulling you up by your hand, his long fingers instantly locking firmly with yours as he led you onto the small, neon-lit stage.

the boys cheered like they had just won the stanley cup as the monitor screen began to flash the intro to the ultimate 80s duet—nothing's gonna stop us now. it was a song you and will always blasted in his car during late-night drives down the pacific coast highway, the lyrics entirely drilled into your brains.

the dramatic synth intro started, the baseline hitting heavy through the speakers.

will hold the microphone up to his lips, his eyes completely locking onto yours as he took the first verse. look into my eyes, i see i paradise, this world that i've found is too good to be true... his voice wasn't perfect, but he had a surprisingly good rhythm, a low, effortless confidence radiating off him that had the boys slinging their arms over each other's shoulders and swaying back and forth in the background.

when the grace slick portion of the song arrived, you finally built up the courage to lift your microphone, your sweet voice blending perfectly with his rougher register. let 'em say we're crazy, i don't care about that, put your arms around me baby don't ever look back...

the moment the chorus hit, the room went entirely wild. and we can build this dream together, standing strong forever, nothing's gonna stop us now~

macklin was aggressively recording the whole thing on his phone, while will just stepped closer to you, completely tuning out the chaotic cheers of his teammates. he moved with a slow, relaxed grace, his free hand coming down to rest securely on your hip, pulling you into his space right there in front of everyone.

he sang the lyrics directly to you, his gaze intense, heavy, and filled with a raw, undeniable amount of devotion. it was a public room, but the way he looked at you made it feel like you were back in his black car in the absolute dark, just the two of you against the world.

right at the big guitar solo bridge, the rival-team trades and upcoming drafts were completely forgotten. you threw your head back, laughing as will dramatically dropped to one knee on the sticky stage floor, holding the microphone up to you like a lovesick teenager, yelling grace and mickey's overlapping parts while the boys in the background started waving the flashlights on their phones.

you finished the final, high-energy note together, breathless and grinning from ear to ear.

the room completely exploded. hockey gloves—or rather, crumpled-up napkins—were thrown onto the stage like hats for a hat trick. will jumped back up to his feet, a triumphant, boyish laugh breaking across his face as he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you right off your feet and spinning you around in a circle under the purple strobe lights.

"you were incredible," will whispered against your ear as he set you down, his chest heaving slightly, his eyes burning into yours with so much pride.

"you're a dork," you breathed out, your hands resting on his shoulders as you tried to catch your breath, your heart hammering a ridiculous, happy rhythm against your ribs.

"yeah, but i'm your dork," he murmured roughly.

he didn't care that macklin was still rolling the camera, or that thirty of his teammates were currently whistling and cheering. will leaned down, his warm hand cupping the side of your jawline, and pressed a deep, lingering, completely worshipful kiss against your lips right there on the stage. it tasted like sweet soda and pure happiness, a definitive statement to the entire room that you were his first and only priority.

when he finally pulled back, your face was burning a brilliant crimson, but the bright, golden warmth in your chest was completely undeniable. will kept his arm locked tightly around your waist as you walked back to the booth, his large hand immediately finding yours under the table the second you sat down.

the boys moved on to the next chaotic track, the room filling with noise again, but as you leaned your head back against will's shoulder, listening to the steady, heavy beat of his heart, you knew there was nowhere else in the world you'd rather be.

(the song played in my mind 272772 times writing this enjoy!)

[baobeishark]

together (macklin celebrini x reader)

word count: 1,350 words

a/n: post number four! 🩵 rewrote this draft, i literally just had a bad day making this but enjoy:)

my love was as cruel as the cities i lived in— everyone looked worse in the light...

the agganis arena concourse was completely buzzing after the boston university win. the student section was still chanting, the smell of stale popcorn and melting ice hung heavy in the air, and families were lingering by the glass to congratulate the players. you stood a few feet back from the crowd, your hands shoved deep into the pockets of an oversized bu hockey sweatshirt. you tried to smile as you watched macklin laugh with his teammates, but the smile felt entirely hollow, heavy, and exhausting to maintain.

it had been a brutal month. as the eldest sister in your family, the invisible weight of the world had officially landed squarely on your shoulders. between your own heavy course load, working two draining part-time jobs, and trying to scrape together enough extra money to help cover your younger sibling's upcoming tuition deadline, you were running on absolute fumes. you were entirely drowning in financial panic and mental burnout, and you hadn't slept a full night in weeks.

you had quietly distanced yourself over the last few days, keeping your texts short and your visits brief because you simply didn't have the energy to explain the suffocating stress to macklin, whose world was currently revolving around scouts, draft rankings, and frozen rubber. you didn't want to burden him. unable to take the overwhelming noise of the post-game crowd anymore, you quietly slipped away before macklin could even make it out of the locker room tunnel.

you walked out into the freezing boston night, your breath blooming into heavy white clouds as you made your way to your beaten-up car in the dark corner of the student parking lot. you unlocked the door, slid into the driver's seat, and pulled it shut, the heavy silence of the cabin instantly magnifying the throbbing ache in your temples.

you leaned your head back against the headrest, staring blankly at the steering wheel. you pulled your phone out, checking your bank account one more time, and the sheer deficit staring back at you was the final breaking point.

the dam completely shattered.

you dropped the phone into your lap and broke down secretly in the dark, burying your face in your hands as you began bawling your eyes out. it wasn't a quiet, pretty cry; it was a violent, shoulder-shaking, sobbing release of months of repressed stress, exhaustion, and the terrifying loneliness of being the one who always had to hold everything together for everyone else.

back inside, macklin had practically bolted through his media obligations. his eyes had scanned the hallway the second he cleared the locker room, and the total absence of your face made his chest tighten. he knew something was wrong. you’d been a ghost all week. he didn't even stop to take off his team track jacket. he grabbed his phone, saw you hadn't texted, and sprinted out into the cold parking lot, his eyes tracking the rows until he saw the faint, interior light of your car.

through the windshield, his heart absolutely broke. he could see your silhouette completely hunched over the wheel, your shoulders heaving. macklin didn't hesitate. he stride over, gripped the handle, and opened the car door wide.

the sudden rush of freezing night air made you gasp, your head snapping up, your eyes completely bloodshot, glassy, and swimming with hot tears. you frantically tried to wipe your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, turning your head away in absolute mortification. "h-hey baby... go back inside, you're going to freeze—"

he didn't say a word. he just looked at you, his dark eyes filled with a raw, agonizing amount of tenderness and protective worry.

leaving the car door completely open to the night, macklin didn't try to pull you out into the cold. instead, he just leaned his massive, athletic frame completely inside the vehicle, crowding into the narrow space of the driver's seat. he dropped to one knee on the cold asphalt outside, his upper body draping entirely over your lap as his long, strong arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you tightly against his chest.

"hey, hey, shh... i've got you," macklin murmured, his deep voice incredibly soft and rough with emotion as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. his large hand came up to cup the back of your head, pressing you flush against his broad shoulder. "i've got you, love. just breathe."

the familiar, grounding scent of his cologne and the intense warmth of his body completely filled the freezing car, and the last shred of your defense mechanism dissolved.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to his track jacket like a lifeline as you continued bawling your eyes out, your face buried entirely in his shoulder. the tears soaked right through his jacket, your chest heaving with deep, ragged, ugly sobs as you finally let go of the weight you’d been carrying alone.

macklin just held you through the worst of it. he didn't tell you to stop crying, and he didn't try to offer quick fixes. he just kept his arms locked securely around your waist, his large hand gently stroking your hair, rocking you slightly in the narrow seat while the cold boston wind blew a few dead leaves past the open door.

"talk to me," macklin asked you softly and tenderly against your skin, his voice an absolute whisper as your sobbing finally began to slow into shaky, uneven breaths. "what's happening lately, baby? you've been so busy, so quiet... please let me help. you don't have to do everything by yourself."

"i'm just so tired, mac," you choked out, your voice cracking completely as you pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes raw and ruined. "the tuition deadline for my sister is next week, and my shifts got cut, and i just... i can't stretch the money any further. i feel like i'm failing everyone. i didn't want to bring all this heavy stuff to you when you have the season to worry about."

"failing?" macklin repeated, his jaw clenching slightly with a wave of fierce, protective frustration—not at you, but at the fact that you had been hurting in the dark for so long.

his large, rough thumbs came up, gently and tenderly wiping the hot, wet trails from your cheeks. he looked up at you with an absolute, unyielding amount of devotion in his dark eyes. "you are the strongest, most incredible person i know. you take care of everyone else, but you have to let me take care of you. the money, the tuition—we will figure it out. i'm here. i'm not going anywhere."

before you could even process the heavy relief of his words, macklin leaned in. his mouth found yours, pressing a succession of soft, lingering kisses against your trembling, salty lips, your forehead, and your wet eyelids. the kisses were pure comfort, slow and filled with a quiet, fierce reassurance that completely erased the lingering cold in your veins. his hands remained cupping your face, his thumbs smoothing over your skin with a worshipful reverence until your breathing finally synced with his.

he rested his forehead against yours, his dark eyes glittering in the dim interior light. "no more keeping secrets to spare my feelings, okay? if you're drowning, you pull me under with you. we handle it together. always."

you let out a small, watery, breathless laugh, a genuine smile finally breaking through the exhaustion as you tangled your fingers in the collar of his jacket. "okay, mac. together."

(biggest hugs to all the eldest sisters out there, i am deeply loudly proud of you.)

[baobeishark]

end game (macklin celebrini x reader)

word count: 1,100+ words

a/n: post number two! 🩵 the media thinks they are bitter rivals, but behind closed doors, it’s a completely different story. let me know if you want a part two for this :)

big reputation, big reputation. you and me, we got big reputations.

the san jose media loved putting the two of you on the same billboard.

the youngest captains in hockey—macklin celebrini for the sharks, and you for the city's brand new pwhl franchise. to the public, you were the icy, professional faces of a new era. the press painted it as a fierce, hyper-competitive rivalry, analyzing every sharp look or dry comment you exchanged during joint press conferences. they thought you hated each other. they thought the tension between you was purely athletic animosity. they had no idea it was actually because you couldn’t look at him without losing your mind.

it was nearly 1:00 am. hours ago, your team had played their historic, inaugural home game at sap center. you’d played a brutal, high-stakes twenty-five minutes, scored the game-winner, and spent the entire night riding an unbearable adrenaline high. now, the arena was completely empty. the lights were dialed down to a dim, moody twilight. you were still out on the ice, unlaced skates clicking softly against the boards as you leaned over the railing in the dark, your captain's jersey heavy on your shoulders.

the sharp, echoing crunch of skates breaking into the ice made you freeze.

you didn't have to look up to know who it was. macklin skated out from the darkness of the tunnel, stripped down to just his track pants and a tight gray training shirt that clung to his chest. he wasn't smiling. he never smiled when it was just the two of you in the dark. that quiet, hyper-focused intensity he used to destroy opponents on the ice was turned entirely on you.

he glided over, stopping just inches from where you leaned on the boards. the raw scent of ice, sweat, and his expensive cologne hit you instantly, sending a frustrating spike of heat straight through your veins. "you played dirty tonight," macklin said. his voice was low, rough, and completely devoid of the polite captain persona he gave the reporters.

"i played to win, celebrini," you countered, your voice dropping, matching his tone. you didn't back away. you leaned closer over the wood, your eyes dropping to the faint pulse ticking in his jaw. "unless you think you could have handled that defense better?"

macklin let out a dark, breathless sound that was half-scoff, half-growl. he stepped off the ice, his heavy frame crowding you against the boards until there was barely any air left between your chests. "i was watching from the tunnel," he murmured, his dark eyes snapping down to your lips before locking back onto yours with a terrifying amount of gravity. "when that winger pinned you against the glass in the second... you didn't push her off fast enough."

"is that a critique, cap?" you taunted, your heart hammering a frantic, heavy rhythm against your ribs. the tension between you was suffocating, thick with hours of pent-up adrenaline and weeks of having to pretend you were strangers in front of flashbulbs. "or are you just mad that someone else got that close to me?"

macklin didn't answer with words.

with a sudden, fluid movement, his large hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around the front of your jersey—right over the stitched 'C' on your chest. he yanked you forward, pulling you flush against his solid frame. your hands instinctively went to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt just to keep your balance.

"i'm furious," he whispered, his breath hot against your lips. he leaned down, his face so close your eyelashes brushed. "i spent three hours having to sit in a press box pretending i don't know exactly how you taste. having to watch a stadium scream your name when you're the only thing i think about."

your breath hitched. you could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the heavy, desperate rise and fall of his chest beneath your palms. your fingers tightened in his shirt, pulling him down that extra fraction of an inch. you wanted him to kiss you. you needed him to snap the tension that had been building since the first puck drop.

"then do something about it," you dared him, your voice a breathless, desperate whisper against his mouth. "no cameras, mack. no reporters. just do it."

macklin’s grip on your jersey tightened so hard you heard the fabric strain. his eyes flared with something completely unhinged—pure, unadulterated desire mixed with the stubborn control he always tried to maintain. his free hand came up, his thumb sliding roughly along your jawline, tilting your face up.

he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a agonizingly slow, ghost of a kiss that made you let out a weak, frustrated whimper.

"you think it's that easy?" he murmured against your mouth, his grip shifting from your jersey to your waist, his fingers digging into your hip through the heavy hockey padding. his dark eyes were wild, staring into yours, torturing both of you with the proximity. "you want to play the rival captain on camera, you have to deal with me when the lights go out."

he pulled you even closer, his mouth hovering barely a millimeter away from yours, teasing you until you were practically begging, your eyes closing as you tilted your chin to finally force the kiss—the heavy, sudden clunk of the arena's main exit doors echoing from the upper concourse shattered the silence. heavy footsteps started to walk down the concrete stairs. a security guard's flashlight flickered against the distant nosebleed seats.

macklin froze.

his fingers slowly uncoiled from your waist, his hand dropping away from your jaw as he took a agonizing step backward into the shadows of the bench. the sudden absence of his heat made the cold arena air feel like ice water against your skin. you opened your eyes, breathless, frustrated, and completely burning up, staring at him through the dim light. macklin stood just out of reach, his chest heaving, his eyes still fixed on you with a dark, unfulfilled promise. he reached down, grabbing his stick from the bench, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscle leaped.

"security, you wouldn't want to ruin your perfect image, right cap?" he whispered, his voice rough and completely wrecked. he didn't kiss you. he didn't touch you again. he just gave you one last, lingering look that promised absolute ruin before he turned and disappeared down the dark hallway toward the locker rooms, leaving you alone on the ice, completely breathless and entirely unsatisfied.

(i would want to make this in a series lmfao lmk what u think!)