#wsh2

[heuhehhohot]

created a gem

edit: yo fellas girl fellas and other types of fellas let's not get it outside of tumbr pls LET'S JUST KEEP IT HERE for private giggles yep thanks

[darkpurple12]

Will just saying “this guy” to Mack is so cute I’m sure there’s more times he says it but I only remember these times 😭 that’s his guy fr

[martinipanini]

i need to call you back // mc71 x reader

pairing: macklin celebrini x reader

summary: you and macklin decide to play a prank you saw on tiktik on will... his reaction is very unexpected.

warning(s): established relationship, pranks, silly fluff, interpreted implications of cheating.

words: 1.3k

as soon as i showed mack the video, he was bouncing off the walls with anticipation. 

i’d come across the trend of calling your boyfriend’s friends to see if they lie or not about him being with them. 

now, with macklin’s friends in particular, this idea happens to be a little more complicated. when your boyfriend is constantly traveling around the country for work with his best friends, you really don’t have many opportunities to build good relationships with them. 

especially when you —and your boyfriend —both happen to be chronic introverts. 

mack lays beside me on the couch, already giggling like a little kid pulling a prank on his parents. “hurry up! i’ve been waiting all day,” he whines while tilting my phone toward him to see if I have a contact pulled up yet. 

our first victim, will smith (hockey), is showcased on my screen, ready to call. his contact name causing me many teases since it was first discovered. 

sue me for not wanting people to think i’m calling will smith... (actor). 

laughing at macklin, i roll my eyes before looking at him seriously. “okay, you have to be quiet though. you know he’ll hang up as soon as he thinks it’s a prank.” 

he immediately goes dead silent, nodding quickly. 

smiling softly at his antics, i brush his hair out of his face and press a quick kiss to his forehead. in return, he snatches my phone and presses the call icon. 

shaking my head, i scoff.  

the phone barely rings before will’s panicked voice sounds through my phone speakers. “hey, are you okay?” 

instantly channeling a stressed tone, i sigh quietly, convincingly. “uh... actually, not really. i’m sorry, i just have to ask you something.” 

his response is immediate, relieved. “oh, so you’re okay then?” 

mack raises a brow next to me, staring at the phone like it’ll personally answer his unasked questions. 

i realize that my unprompted call —and the fact that macklin isn’t with him right now —probably caused him to think something physically happened to one of us. 

“oh, yeah, sorry. i didn’t mean to worry you. i just- is macklin with you?” 

i rush the question out with conviction, forcing my voice to sound more worried than it’s ever been in regards to mack’s whereabouts.  

there’s a pause... then a simple question, not giving anything up yet. 

“why?” 

he’s suspicious. macklin is covering his mouth. i kick him. 

“well...” i sniffle to make it sound more believable, “he hasn’t answered me for hours, and he said he was going to be with you all evening.” 

i don’t say what i’m thinking exactly, letting will put the pieces together by himself. macklin laughs quietly next to me. 

my foot makes contact with his ribs this time. 

i hear will’s footsteps on the other side of the line, clearly pacing now, connecting the dots. “he’s not answering you?” 

i have to pause, pressing my hand to my mouth to stop myself from laughing, before i answer him. “no. i assumed you guys were doing something and he just hadn’t seen it, but now i’m getting worried.” 

i don’t hear will’s voice for a hefty minute after that. i’d have thought he figured it out and hung up on me if it weren’t for his loud pacing in the background. 

“um... i need to call you back.” 

he doesn’t wait for a response. the sound of his steps cut off suddenly. gasping, i whip my head to macklin. he looks at me equally surprised —both of us unsure of what just happened. 

then his phone starts ringing. 

his eyes go wide, freaking out. “what do i do?!” 

“answer it!” 

he fumbles with his phone as he answers, immediately falling into character. his voice coming out chill... too chill. 

“hey man, what’s up?” 

“where the fuck are you?” 

will’s voice comes out more serious than i’ve heard it before. from the look on mack’s face, he relates. “woah, dude, what’s wro-” 

he doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, will interrupting with a particular protectiveness i wasn’t aware i'd earned from him. 

“stop. i’m not in the mood to deal with some bullshit right now, macklin. why the hell is your girlfriend asking me where you are? you better have the best fucking excuse —especially after lying to her by telling her you’re with me.” 

he leaves no room for mack to turn this into a joke, clearly not willing to mess around with a situation like this. something tells me that mack has never been acquainted with this side of his best friend before. a good thing i suppose. 

mack, trying not to burst out laughing, tries to redirect the question. “fuck, she texted you? why didn’t she just wait for me to respond?” 

this doesn’t do anything to deter will. “no, she called me. and she didn’t wait because she sounded worried as fuck about you, while you’re doing God knows what. she said it’s been hours. where are you?” 

answering his question isn’t optional anymore. his patience is wearing thin. 

“i- well... funny stor-” 

the phone call ends. 

we both stare at each other in awe. the giggles having cleared out at the intensity of will’s voice. “i did not think he’d get that ma-” 

cutting mack off for the third time —this time unintentionally —my phone rings again. 

i don’t have to check it to know who’s calling. 

will smith (hockey) 

clicking the accept button, i rush to put it on speaker. “hello?” 

he doesn’t wait to rat out his best friend. “he’s not with me.” 

covering my mouth with my hand, i rush to put my phone on mute. whispering to mack, “what do i say?” 

he whispers back, as if talking louder would cause will to hear our plotting. 

“act distraught. ask where i am.” 

taking a deep breath, i unmute my mic, breathing a little unevenly. “what? where is he?” my voice coming out pitchier than i intended.  

it does the job. 

a sigh sounds from my phone speakers. “i- i’m not sure. i’m so sorry. i called him...” i wait for him to continue. he scoffs, thinking of his conversation with mack. “fuck, i’m so sorry, i think he’s with someone, y/n.”  

the words escape him too quickly. the concept of his best friend doing something like this pains him. he’s upset with macklin. he’s upset for me. 

macklin mouths something to me. he knows i can’t read lips for shit. 

i press mute again and tilt my head at him. “what?” 

“we have to tell him that it’s a prank. he’s going to kill me.” 

i nod quickly, knowing that neither of us expected will to take it this seriously. 

unmuting, i clear my throat. opening my mouth to admit to our antics, will speaks up again. “i’m so so sorry. i swear i didn’t know anything about this. if i did, i would’ve- God, i don’t know. i would’ve done something though.” 

macklin, like the little asshole that he is, bursts out laughing. sudden, loud, and irritatingly infectuous. i chastise myself for laughing along with him. 

i can see tears in his eyes, sending me further into my hysterics. my state only has a ripple effect on him. 

“uh... hello?” 

i’m not even kidding, will’s voice makes me start crying. by the time we collect ourselves, tears are streaming down both of our faces. 

“oh my gosh, will...” i pause to laugh again. “will, i’m so sorry!” 

beep beep beep. 

the phone call ended again.  

my neck hurts from how fast i turn to look at mack. both of us are calm for a second before a text comes through. 

will smith (hockey)       i hate you both. tell mack to watch out at practice tomorrow. 

and just like that, we’re bent over in laughter again. 

[falsejulia]

Hot city air and nowhere to be + day drinking (preferably)

100% not his hand, I made it up for him 🧠 (his are gentle with no veins popping out #boring to draw)

[totheecore]

16.04.26 — SJS @ WPG :: "unbelievable job, both you guys"

[mack-will]

they are literal magnets, you cannot physically separate them...

[geonuks]

when the couple behind your table starts fighting. will smith, macklin celebrini, connor bedard, fraser minten x reader

will smith oh he is absolutely trained by his older sister. it's shocking how he's noticed before you. while his intuition when something... juicy and gossip-worthy is about to happen is uncanny, the way he still can't control his expression is painfully obvious.

he's mid-bite of the steak he cut up when his eyes dart behind you. he's immediately dialed in, eyes hilariously wide and focused. you glance over your shoulder to find what he's looking at. their table is tilted in such a way that you get a full scope of the scene.

the guy sits with both hands on the table, talking like he’s trying to carry the entire conversation on his own. across from him, the girl looks anywhere but at him, her responses short and barely there.

you think nothing of it at first, opting to focus on the food in front of you but the way will's eyes dart over your shoulder (more often that you'd like) makes you all the more curious about the scene behind you.

their food arrives, and whatever conversation he was trying to keep afloat dissolves. they eat in silence. every now and then, he looks up at her, offering small, hopeful smiles she doesn’t return.

finally, you turn to will and he's genuinely locked in, sitting slightly forward just to get a tiny bit of the couple's conversation. "will, are they fighting?" your voice is barely loud enough to hear over the restaurant's ambiance.

he looks at you like he's been waiting for you to say that. "oh my god you noticed too?" you let out a little laugh, "hard not to when you're dialed in on them like that. let's maybe not be too obvious, babe!" your foot nudges his under the table. he let's out his own laugh.

"no but i've been looking over there and that girl's been waiting on that table since we've sat down" he says through gritted teeth, eyes wide and shocked at the situation, your face mirrors his instantly and your hand goes up to cover your mouth. "fuck, seriously? what an ass. who even does that?"

"right?!" will's voice slips out loud enough that the table beside you looks at him, he offers them a short apology and clears his throat. "right?" he tries again, voice appropriately low this time.

you both fall into a quieter kind of watching after that, less obvious but no less invested. the girl finally sets her fork down, says something you can’t quite catch. and suddenly, she stands, grabs her bag, and walks out without looking back.

you and will exchange a look at the exact same time. “good for her,” you murmur.

“good for her,” he echoes, a little too satisfied, before catching himself and ducking his head with a grin. your foot nudges his again under the table, and this time he nudges back.

macklin celebrini you notice it before he does. the mood of the table beside you is dark and brooding, distracting you from the shared pizookie you and mack have. you angle your head to hear the conversation between the couple. a lot of quiet back and forths.

he notices your inattentiveness when he doesn't hear you say anything about one of his teammates slipping on the ice in practice earlier. then he notices you're barely eating any of the dessert, your spoon just pushing it around more than anything.

his brows knit as he watches you, following the tilt of your head. clearly, he's bothered that your attention isn't on him. "what is it?" his spoon clinks yours to grab your attention.

you don't answer him just yet, eyes flicking to the table beside you.

“what?” he whispers, leaning in. “what’s going on?” your tongue clicks, head shaking slightly, like you’re trying not to get caught. “mack,” you murmur, barely moving your lips, trying not to get frustrated at his cluelessness “just— just listen.”

he frowns, clearly unsatisfied with that answer. “listen to what?”

your eyes roll behind your closed eyes, they open just to flick toward the table again “shh—” he exhales quietly through his nose, frustrated himself. but he listens. really listens this time.

mack's brows shoot up and he lets out a sound of realization, a little too loud for your liking. "mack—" you hiss and hit his spoon this time. you cough, a bit too fake but it's enough that the couple beside you doesn't notice that both of you are now leaning in on their argument.

he mutters a small apology as his lips press together and his eyes are wide—fully invested. the girl’s voice comes through a little clearer now that both of you are silent as a mouse.

the girl is undoubtedly irritated and all the more frustrated at the man in front of her. she says something about him never taking her seriously, about how every time she brings something up, he brushes it off like it’s a joke. the guy says something in response, low and defensive, and she immediately cuts him off.

the pizookie between you goes mostly untouched now, your spoons moving absentmindedly, more habit than hunger. every now and then, one of you takes a bite, but it’s not for the dessert anymore—it’s something to do while you listen, like buttered popcorn at a movie.

mack leans in closer, voice barely above a whisper. “he’s deflecting,” he says, way too serious about it.

you stifle a laugh. “i know, the audacity of this guy” you let out a scoff.

you both fall quiet again, listening like it’s the most important thing in the world.

a few minutes passes.

and then another.

you glance at your phone briefly, eyes widening just a little. “oh my god,” you whisper. “we’ve been here way longer than we planned.” your realization only deepens when the vanilla ice cream on top has now melted into a puddle of white.

your own boyfriend doesn’t even look at you, eyes still fixed past your shoulder. “in a minute,” he murmurs.

you stare at him in disbelief.

“i need to see how this ends.”

connor bedard you've barely handed back the menu to the waiter before your ears perk at the sound of quiet screaming laced with frustration and disbelief. you look to your left to see a couple at the next table, the woman throwing her hands up in exasperation while the man fumbles to say something.

connor, with nothing else to do, follows your gaze. he understands immediately and he lets out a breath. he hums, dismissive. “couple fight. happens.”

a breath comes through your nose and you shake your head as you try and make sense of the situation, your hand even comes up so you can rest your chin there. "what the hell could they be fighting about," you mutter, more to yourself than anything.

connor reaches for his water as he leans back on his chair, "probably something stupid." but then the girl's voice is an octave higher and says something about him not having any more time for her, with practices early in the mornings until late at night, and his gear is all over their place.

your own boyfriend perks up, because even if the girl never explicitly said anything about hockey, it's undeniable that the guy across your table is an athlete.

“…no way,” he mutters, almost to himself. your eyebrows raise as you glance at him, already knowing.

his posture changes instantly—no more leaning back, no more letting whatever conversation was happening next to you go in one ear and out the other. he sets his glass down slowly, eyes widening slightly as he looks at you, properly this time.

“hey,” he says quickly, leaning forward, voice low but urgent. “i would never do that to you.”

you blink at him, a little lost on what he’s trying to say. “what?”

“i wouldn’t–” he cuts himself off and breathes out heavily, like he's trying to calm himself down. “like... early practices—sure i can't control that—but I wouldn’t just… leave my stuff out everywhere and also ignore you. that’s—no.” he shakes his head, almost offended at the idea. “that’s bad.. really bad.”

you laugh at his internal panic. “oh my god connor,” you whisper, half amused, “no one said you would.”

he puts his hands up in mock surrender, “i’m just saying,” he continues anyway, “i wouldn’t do that.”

before you could provide any more assurance, the guy on the other table speaks up, his expression is annoyed more than anything and says that she should have seen it coming and that she knew what she was signing up for.

"what the fuck?" there's an incredulous look to connor's face and his head shakes in disbelief, you can't help but mirror his own disbelief with a hand over your open mouth.

the next few minutes pass with him barely touching his food. his fork only moves to push the vegetables around his plate.

“…he’s deflecting,” he whispers suddenly, leaning forward just a little.

you blink at him but nod in agreement “he is.”

"which means he's guilty." he adds, finally putting some food in his mouth, like he's sure of what he's saying.

"of what exactly?"

"of being wrong? of being an absolute trash of a boyfriend and man—if he even is one."

you turn back to him, eyebrows raised. “oh so you know them now?”

“i can tell,” he insists, leaning in a little more as his shoulders shrug, voice dropping like he’s breaking down post-game footage. “look at her, she’s not even surprised. she’s just… done.”

right on cue, theres an abrupt screeching noise from the table beside you, the girl's chair moves as she stands up.

you watch as his entire posture changes, sitting up straighter now, completely dialed in. his fork is abandoned on the plate as his hands come together, preparing for the worst.

“wait–wait, this is where it gets good,” he murmurs, eyes narrowing. and you stare at him in pure amusement "you're acting like this is a live game or something."

"because it is." he shoots back quietly, not even bothering to look at you. "incredibly high stakes here."

a string of profanities leaves her mouth as she reaches for her glass and throws the contents of it over her now ex-boyfriend.

"oh my god.." you and connor say at the same time, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them

the entire table—and restaurant goes still. the guy looks completely stunned, water dripping from his hair and collar, while she stands there—chest rising and falling, hands shaking just slightly as her hand forms as fist.

connor slowly leans back in his chair, both hands coming up to rest on his head like he just witnessed the craziest play of his life.

“no way,” he breathes out, half in disbelief, half in awe.

“that was absolute cinema.”

fraser minten you're halfway through putting a forkful of pasta in your mouth when you notice it. the uncomfortable kind of silence and the intimidating aura radiating from the table behind fraser.

you notice the way the guy’s fork scrapes a little too loudly against his plate. the way the girl hasn’t touched her drink. then suddenly, a sharp exhale and a serious, irritated look comes from her.

your eyes widen as you lean in closer, trying to make sense of the situation.

“…not what i'm trying to say,” the guy mutters.

“then what are you trying to say?” she shoots back, harsh yet quiet.

across from you, your boyfriend is focused on his food. he's getting his last chew of his chicken when he notices your line of sight falls behind him.

"what?" he says a little too loudly as he looks directly at the couple's table.

your feet moves quickly to kick at his shin. "don't make it too obvious!" you say through gritted teeth.

you both overcompensate by looking down at your food and picking at it. thankfully, the couple is too absorbed in their own fight that they paid no mind to both of you.

both of you remain quiet after that, with fraser taking quick glances behind him sometimes craning his head to hear their fight better.

gradually, you see his expression shift from confusion to a slight irritation.

"i have to go." he says with the kind of urgency that's almost worrying.

you don't get a single word in when he's already pushing his chair back as he makes a beeline towards the bathroom, which is coincidentally right past their table.

you watch him go, narrowing your eyes slightly as he just so happens to slow down near them, head tilting the slightest bit.

“unbelievable,” you mutter under your breath.

he's gone longer than necessary.

when he finally comes back, he doesn’t even try to act normal, sliding into his seat with a look that says everything.

you don’t even bother easing into it "what did you hear?” you lean in close, grabbing his sleeve.

"no—genuinely you cannot make this shit up babe," your boyfriend laughs to himself, knowing what he's about to say is absurd.

“he turned his phone off during his game without telling her beforehand,” he explains. “i think she was checking in because she didn’t know where he was or if something went wrong. totally reasonable, right?”

you nod along.

“and then, he got annoyed at the messages instead of... i don't know—understanding why she was sending them?!” fraser's voice heightens and the tension in his body is visible as he continues.

“so now he’s saying stuff like she’s the problem for not ‘knowing he’d be busy.’” the last part he air quotes with all the sarcasm in his body, eyes rolling.

you scoff at the audacity of the man, eyes flickering to him. "yeah he seems like the type," your head shakes in disappointment.

"hmm," your boyfriend hums in agreement. "you don't get to disappear on someone like that and then get mad when they react and get worried." he shrugs like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and it is. but it apparently is not for the man in the table next to yours.

suddenly, you start to make sense of the situation, and how silly it is (at least from your perspective)

because how can fraser know all this?

you barely know the couple. you've caught maybe half a dozen of cut-off conversations at most. and yet he manages to get a full narrative before the clock's even had the chance to change the hour.

you eyes narrow a him just a little and he notices, he shifts in his seat like he's the one in trouble now.

"how do you know all this frase?"

he shrugs and looks down, seeming guilty. "i listened when i went to the bathroom."

"right..." you trail off, waiting for him to say anything else. he doesn't.

"you barely passed by their table though?" your head tilts, catching his eyes for a moment.

"i may have... stayed back to listen to the servers gossip." he confesses, muttering the last part like he's admitting to a crime.

you stare at him, deadpan. "fraser,,, babe."

"what?" he replies quickly as he straightens a little and finally makes eye contact with you. "it wasn't my fault they were loud enough for me to hear!'

you shake your head, a laugh slipping out despite yourself. “you’re unbelievable.”

he shrugs, completely unbothered now and he smiles at himself. "this is peak citizen journalism, babe."

notes: i HAD to get this out today. also.. got suddenly invited to a summit/seminar thing WHEN HALF MY STUFF IS AT HOME SO IM DOING WITH WHAT I HAVE IN MY DORM. which means i wrote this on my ipad and phone. no one gets to judge me if its buns 🥹✌️

[derangednctzen]

bench reaction to goalie fight