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wm au where mack has thing for will’s chain. it’s become a bit of a problem.
an annoying problem. the irritating kind of problem. an all encompassing, hyper-fixation kind of problem—the type that has mack tracking the metal links hanging off will’s neck as he ties his skates, the silver bright and sharp against his black compression shirt. when he straightens, the chain settles into the divot in his chest.
mack knows that will’s put on an impressive amount of bulk over the summer, he knows the work he put into his body, his muscles, his form. it doesn’t stop mack from letting out a sharp exhale as the pendants sit between will’s pecs, defined by the tight material.
will’s smacking his gum when he locks eyes with him and smiles, and all mack can think of is: this is a problem.
will stands from his stall and walks over to mack’s. he watches will absentmindedly tuck his chain under his base layers as he walks, the gesture almost automatic. mack can still see the outline of the pendants, though—can see the circle of the rosary, the shape of the cross as it peeks through the material, and mack can’t help but wonder what it’d look like close up. like, really close up. close enough that he can see the grooves of his st. christopher’s medallion, close enough to see if he can taste the metal ridges of will’s rosary ring through the nylon fabric.
mack’s mouth waters.
“you hungry?”
mack blinks, staring up at will. “i- what?”
will’s still smacking his gum, tilting his head at mack when he goes, “down for chipper later? after practice?”
“oh. yeah. yeah man i’m down.”
“kay,” will nods, before he flicks his eyes above mack and goes, “oh dude, can i just-”
will cuts himself off, reaching just past mack and over to the cubby above him. the sudden movement causes his shirt to dip, just enough so that the pendants are slipping out from the collar and hanging precariously in front of mack instead.
they swing a little, back and forth, and he can smell it, mack thinks deliriously—the metal of the pendants and something else, something sharper. less from the chain and more from the slight sheen of sweat on will’s neck. mack’s lips part, and the cross brushes against mack’s top lip. when will pulls back, the cross is gone, and mack’s grip tape is in his hand.
“d’you mind if i borrow some? i ran out.” will waves the white roll in front of mack. the cross dangles along with the medallion and the ring before settling between the divot of will’s pecs. mack licks his lips, and thinks, deranged, that he can taste the metal of will’s cross on his tongue.
mack nods, trying to go for absentminded and not like he’s two seconds away from pulling at will’s chain with his teeth. when he speaks he barely registers the sound, his voice sounding like it’s coming from another room.
“sure, go for it.”
“thanks mackie,” will grins, and the smacking pauses as he brandishes the pale mint gum between his molars. he’s playing with the roll in his hand as he continues, “i’m thinking we can just pick up the food on the way to mine, is that cool?”
“sure,” mack repeats.
will doesn’t respond for a second, tilting his head a little as he watches mack. he looks like he’s trying to figure something out, gum chewing slowing. mack tries to look unbothered, nonchalant, his mouth already folding into that weird straight line it does when he gets even slightly uncomfortable.
“you good?” will asks. he starts leaning his weight on either skate, and the chain moves with him, pendants sliding across the links. mack’s eyes drop immediately, tracking them like a man hypnotized.
mack should feel embarrassed. but instead he just feels fucking—he feels fucking crazy, body thrumming with something he can’t name. he can feel it flow through his veins, chasing the feeling until mack can feel the buzz in his teeth. for a second, he wonders if will would let him. would he let mack get close enough to see? to touch? to let mack drag his teeth against the links of his necklace?
would will let mack trace the grooves of his saint, until mack’s pressing the image of st. christopher on his tongue?
would it taste like will, like metal and sandalwood and sweat?
“mack.”
mack startles, blinking back up at will. “yeah?”
will doesn’t answer for a second, quiet as he stares at him with an expression mack can’t read. slowly, he raises a hand and hooks a finger under the chain, dragging down, down, until the crease of his knuckle meets the pendants. mack watches, deranged, as will pulls, like he’s adjusting a collar, before grabbing them and sliding the chain back under his base layers.
mack barely recognizes the small sound that escapes his throat, breathy and soft.
when he drags his eyes back up to will’s, he’s watching mack with dark eyes, almost amused.
“you good?” will repeats. it sounds less like a question this time around.
mack tries to nod, but his head feels too heavy, like a weight had settled in his skull.
he hopes the message is sent across anyway, because will hums, almost contemplating. he stays for another second or two before he turns, walking back to his cubby. mack swears he can see the corner of will’s lips curl upwards.
when the fog clears, mack is left buzzing, hot, with a half-chub pushing uncomfortably against his jock. he tries to clear his head, hands shaking as he leans down to tie his skates.
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wm au where will has a bit of a virgin kink and it isn’t weird. it’s not. he isn’t, like, one of those perverted creeps that drool over taking someone’s virtue or something. it’s completely different.
“oh, is it now?”
will scowls, tossing the empty high noon can into the trash can across the room. the crumpled can topples off the rim and into the carpet. it starts to seep with artificial grape flavouring, and will wonders how many tide pens it’ll take to remove the stain tomorrow.
“dude it’s not. it’s like, i dunno. it’s the trust they give you, you know?”
mack snorts, taking a sip from his own can. it’s cherry flavoured, and the alcohol leaves a dark sheen when it leaves his lips. will swallows, throat annoyingly dry despite the two cans gracing either side of their dorm’s trash can. his hands twitch for a third.
“mm, yeah, i guess so.” mack licks at his top lip, swiping at leftover cherry flavouring. then he giggles, high pitched and breathy, “you really that into it?”
and, well.
will should probably do the sensible thing and shut this conversation down. it’s 2 in the morning and he has an anthro midterm today that he’s barely studied for and he really should do the smart thing and get some z’s in before he bombs his exam this afternoon.
but mack had brought a pack of high noons from aiden’s and batted his green, green, eyes and went, “c’mon smit, i don’t wanna drink alone dude,” and so.
he’s here instead. drinking white claws on the floor with mack instead of doing the smart thing and getting some sleep. because he’s an idiot.
he doesn’t even know how they got to this topic, but now mack’s looking at him all wide eyed and curious and so, so earnest, that will couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth even if he wanted to.
“i’m…i’m pretty into it. but it’s hard to kinda tell the people you’re hooking up with, so i just don’t do anything with it.” he shrugs like it’s nothing, and ignores the way mack’s eyes are boring into the side of his face. “plus, it’s a huge trust thing, anyways, for both sides. so.”
it’s quiet for a bit, and will ends up sneaking a glance to his side when the silence gets too suffocating. mack has a flush on his cheeks, red and ruddy. he’s chewing at the bottom of his lip, almost like he’s deep in contemplation about something. his teeth digs into the skin, and the cherry red of his lips turns into a dark maroon. will blinks, once, then shakes his head, fumbling clumsy limbs as he stands up.
“it’s getting really late.” will pats at his sweats, swiping at dirt to give his hands something to do. “we should probably—”
“i trust you.”
will pauses, furrowing his eyebrows, “huh?”
“i mean, i trust you smit.” mack doesn’t get up, but he adjusts himself so he almost looks like he’s kneeling in front of will.
“yeah? i mean. i hope so?” will tilts his head, “i trust you too, mack.”
mack huffs, almost frustrated, and he grabs at will’s ankle, trailing his fingers up and down his calf. when he looks up, his eyes are wide, and so, so, big, that will has to open his mouth to breathe properly. jesus.
“i meant,” mack tilts his head, “i trust you enough to take my… virginity.”
oh.
oh.
“oh.” will closes and opens his mouth, trying not to gape at his best friend, “you’ve never? like… like ever?”
“yeah.”
then mack ducks his head, auburn hair forming a curtain in front his face, like he’s embarrassed at what he just admitted. he starts to fidget, and will knows he has less than five seconds before mack panics and blurts that he was just kidding. and will—will can’t fucking risk that now can he?
it’s the haze of the alcohol that brings him to paw at mack’s strands, pushing them out of the way. he tilts mack’s chin, revelling at the easy way mack just goes, head tilting back as he looks at will with earnest eyes. trusting eyes.
“oh mackie...” will swallows, tongue thick and heavy as the words roll of his mouth, “‘s’okay baby, just want someone to take care of you, hm?”
his grip tightens and mack sighs, mouth falling open. his tongue peeks out to lick at his top lip and will tracks the movement like a heat seeking missile.
“want me to be your first time, sweetheart? trust me that much?” will’s pants tighten at mack’s nodding. “need to tell me then, baby.”
mack teeters forward as he nods, almost nuzzling at will’s crotch, barely mouthing at his bulge when he says, “want you to be my first time smit. please?”
will coos, hands leaving mack’s hair as they go under mack’s underarms, hoisting him up and over the bed behind them. mack is warm against will, body thrumming with the two high noons mack had drank earlier. when will plays with the waistband of mack’s sweats, he can feel mack jolt under his touch. like he’s never been touched there before. like.
like a fucking virgin.
“’s okay honey,” will’s smile is wolfish when his lips trail down the side of mack’s jaw, sucking at the beauty mark near his ear. “let me show you how to feel good.”
wm + but i’m a cheerleader au where mack is sent to a conversion camp over the summer to correct and redirect his sexual orientation. honestly, mack isn’t sure why he’s being sent in the first place. like, he gets good grades, he has a girlfriend, he plays fucking hockey.
whatever. he’s sure that with enough time they’ll realize this was all, like, a big misunderstanding. he can show them. if it means he’s out of this place he’ll be the fucking pinnacle of heterosexuality.
if only his roommate would just stop looking at him like that.
mack pauses his unpacking, turning to his roommate with an agitated breath, “…dude, can you like, stop?”
his roommate blinks, blue eyes piercing. “stop what?”
“you’re staring.”
the guy doesn’t even look sorry. instead he tilts his head as a corner of his lip quirks up. “am i?”
“yes.”
he and mack go into a stare-off, and mack takes a second to size him up. blond curls that brush the nape of his neck. blue eyes that flutter with every slow blink. a long nose and round, pink lips. mack blinks, and averts his eyes when he sees them curl upwards.
“i’m not….” he trails off, eyes shooting around the room before landing just past his roommate’s shoulder. mack feels an ugly flush creep up his neck, and his mouth twists into a grimace. “this was a mistake. on their part. i shouldn’t even be here.”
his roommate snorts, and he rakes his hair back, tucking blond strands behind his ear, “i dunno man. you must’ve done something gay enough if you ended up here.”
mack grits his teeth, tightening his hold on a shirt. “whatever dude, if you’re here you did something gay as shit too.”
his roommate doesn’t look bothered that mack called him out. he just continues to stare, slow-blinking like he can’t decide what to make of mack yet. mack can’t decide if he hates it or not. he must’ve gotten tired of the silence because he stands and walks past mack, only pausing near the door.
“group introductions start in fifteen,” he looks over his shoulder and throws mack his first real smile. it’s pretty. mack’s eye twitches. “i’ll see you then.”
he leaves mack to his own devices and mack blinks once, twice, before he continues unpacking methodically. almost automatically. two months. whatever. he’ll blow through the program’s stupid steps and he’ll be out of here by fall. mack’s gonna make sure of it.
the tips of his ears are still red when he leaves the room.
omega mack who wants his best friend alpha will so bad that’s it’s driving him insane. mack who’s constantly losing himself in daydreams of will pressing him down into the nearest surface or pulling him in his lap and claiming him. and who’s so blatantly obvious about it, too. always pressing himself along the length of will’s body, hunching his shoulders to be able to look up at the alpha from under his lashes, fluttering them like he’s seen the omegas in movies do, wearing the skimpiest little shorts he can find whenever he’s around will.
and the worst part is that he’s pretty sure will wants him just as badly. he’s seen the way the alpha’s nostrils flare everytime mack feels himself slick up whenever will merely touches him, has smelt the uptick in the alpha’s scent responding to it, has seen his pupils dilating and his jaw clenching like he’s holding himself back from pouncing on him. but will never does anything about it, just stares at mack with that familiar twinkle in his eyes that means he’s endeared by the omega’s behaviour.
and mack is getting frustrated, pent up by the thirst his fingers and toys never seem to be able to quell, no matter how many hours he spends desperately fucking them into his sopping cunt, drenching his nest with the scent of his slick.
he ends up breaking on a mundane sunday morning, of all times. he’s been watching the alpha putter around their kitchen for what feels like an eternity, getting lost in the sight of him planning meals and rearranging their cabinets, all the while sitting on the counter and blatantly drooling over the way the muscles in will’s arms strain every time he moves. he’s so wet that he knows will can smell it, has seen his nostrils flare and has smelt the alpha’s own scent deepening in response, but will still won’t do anything, simply continues on like he doesn’t have an omega slick and ready for him just a few feet away.
“why won’t you fuck me?” mack blurts out, his voice coming out whiny and bratty, arms crossed over his chest as he feels his face heat up at his own shamelessness.
he watches with baited breath as will freezes in his tracks, before slowly turning around until he’s facing mack, the hint of a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips and one of a his eyebrows raised in question. “well, you haven’t asked for it. have you, sweetheart?”
mack’s brain halts, a disbelieving scoff slipping past his gaping lips. “asked— what?”
will’s smirk sharpens into something almost predatory as he steps closer to mack, rich scent filling mack’s nostrils with every breath as he places his hands onto the counter, caging the omega in. “yeah, baby. i’m not some knothead who’s gonna bend you over the counter just because i can smell your sweet cunt getting wet. you gotta use your words and tell me you want it, omega,” he says lowly, the words coming out in a rumbling purr as his dark gaze tracks every shift in mack’s features.
mack can’t help the gasping whine that slips past his lips at having the alpha so close, at the words, the honorific.
omega.
“please, fuck me, alpha. make me yours,” he pleads, too needy to care about how desperate he seems, how shameless he’s being. his dripping cunt is throbbing and so fucking empty, and he needs his alpha inside of him more than he needs air.
a low growl rumbles in the alpha’s throat as his hands come to grasp onto mack’s hips, pulling him close against his chest, their hips aligning and making mack keen from the hint of friction against his aching cunt. “yeah, i’ll fuck you, omega. i’ll fuck you so good and pump you full of me,” will promises in a rasp, before claiming the omega’s mouth with his own, devouring and all-consuming.
and the alpha keeps his promise, dragging mack into his bedroom and frantically tearing their clothes off as he goes, laying the omega down onto the bed and diving into his cunt, tongue unraveling him until mack is trembling and crying out through a mind-blowing orgasm, before will flips him over and slides into him in one long thrust, wasting no time before he starts fucking into him, so deep and so intense and so so full inside of him, making the omega sob and keen into the crook of his arms because he’s never felt so good, sopping cunt dripping and fluttering around will’s cock, all the while the alpha keeps uttering the sweetest filth into his ear, praising him for taking his alpha’s cock so well, that what you’ve been aching for all this time, huh, sweetheart? all you needed to do was ask, and “such a perfect omega with the most perfect cunt, feel so fucking good ‘round my cock” “such a desperate little thing, huh? poor baby, made you wait for so long” “that’s it, fucking take me, gonna pump you feel, gonna breed you ‘til you’re heavy with my pups”
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bu/bc era where omega mack avoids alpha will as much as he possibly can, because he doesn’t know what to do with the way his instincts flare deep within him every time he’s around the alpha.
mack who constantly feels the alpha’s eyes on him whenever they’re in each other’s vicinity, wether it be across the ice when they’re both on the bench, when they’re on the ice, the alpha being able to simultaneously crush mack’s team to shreds and keep a watchful eye on him the entire time, gaze heavy and so intense that it ignites mack’s deepest instincts. the worst being when they somehow end up at the same party, and he can feel will tracking his every move around the house, no matter what he does or where he goes.
everything taking a turn when lane drags him to yet another frat party, where mack without a doubt knows the alpha will be present. mack being right, and desperately trying to ignore the way will’s eyes track him across the house, intense and unwavering, trying to ignore the way it makes him feel, the way his instincts are flaring hot and deep, egging him to run, to give chase until he’s caught.
mack making the mistake of looking in the direction he can feel the alpha’s gaze coming from and instantly meeting will’s eyes, burning and more intense than he could’ve ever expected. mack finally giving in to his instincts, cocking his head to the side in a way that shows off his throat, a way that screams surrender and watching will’s mouth drop open in shock, before he takes off through the house. his omega roaring in his chest as he keeps moving, ignoring the packed mass of sweaty bodies in the house as he quietly slips from room to room, feeling the alpha hot on his trail the whole time.
until mack ends up on the third floor, a place banned from the partygoers, and finds himself in an empty bedroom that he realises much too late belongs to none other than will, the smith jersey hanging on the wall staring back at him like it’s making fun him. and the scent- god, the scent.
will slips into the room, a predatory smirk creeping on his lips and his dark gaze finding mack as he locks the door behind him. “found you,” he whispers gravelly, voice almost a growl and undeniably tinged with alpha, as he slowly steps closer to where mack is standing in the middle of the room, frozen in place.
mack feels his instincts responding to the alpha, his omega immediately surrendering now that they understand the chase is over, his scent sweetening and his cunt slicking up. he takes a shuddering breath when he realises that his body getting ready for what’s to come, for the alpha to take his well-earned prize, to take and breed and claim.
he watches will’s nostrils flare, a low growl slipping past the alpha’s lips as he cups mack’s face with his hands, barely a breath of space left between their bodies. “yeah, omega. you’re mine now, and i’m gonna show you how i take care of what’s mine,” he rasps, before attacking the omega’s mouth with his own, deep and languid and undeniably claiming.
and show him, the alpha does, laying mack down onto his sheets and taking him apart for what feels like hours, with his tongue, his mouth, his fingers until the omega is a desperate mess of whimpers and pleads for please, alpha, take me, claim me, make me yours, before will turns him over and guides him to present for him, chest flush to the mattress and hips high that he grips onto tightly while he fucks into him with long and unrelenting thrusts, deep and intense as he laves and nips at mack’s scent gland in a silent promise for what’s to come, rendering the omega a sobbing and drooling mess, slick gushing out of his cunt with every drag against his sweet spot, all the while will keeps muttering filthy praises against the skin of his neck, telling him how beautiful he looks surrendering to his alpha, and “such a good omega and you’re fucking mine, gonna claim you, breed you full of my pumps so well no one’ll ever doubt who you belong to” “fuck, sweetheart, your cunt feels so fucking good, waited so long to have you” “finally get to have you, never letting you go, my perfect omega, mine mine mine” until his knot locks onto the omega’s entrance as he sinks his teeth into his omega’s mating gland, linking them together forever.
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Correct me if I'm wrong. Have we ever seen Mack casually brush Will's ass like this? That is, apart from the relatively demure cellies which started happening this year, of which I can remember exactly one time where Mack slapped Will's 🤔
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