#mackpreg

he loves designing the nursery. they bought a big house together when they signed their extensions, knowing that the future would hold many pups. the future ends up coming a little sooner than they thought. mack doesn't really care what the nursery looks like, is happy to let will decide. he's more instinctual in his nesting, approving of each of will's blanket and plushy choices based on what feels right. but will has pinterest boards and color swatches and the number of one of grace's friends who's an interior designer. everything has to be absolutely perfect for his pup.

he makes sure mack takes every vitamin and feeds him the best foods. learns how to be a better cook through youtube and christina. rick enables him, sending articles and books on pregnancy nutrition in a group chat with the two of them (mack never checks it, anymore).

he definitely has one of those apps on his phone to track the pregnancy and it tells him what size fruit or vegetable the pup is at each weekly milestone. he decides to make a recipe with that food each week.

he loves mack pregnant. the way his hips get softer, the swell of his stomach. his scent, milky and warm. they didn't know mack was pregnant until he missed his heat, and by then he was almost four months along. will was distraught, he missed four months of his mate's pregnancy. he feels guilty when mack is miserable, apologizes profusely while rubbing his feet, holding back his hair. when he gets heavier, will will hold up his stomach for him, follows diagrams of kt tape.

he takes all of mack's mood swings in stride. he'll get mean and snappy, but then cry. i was mean, will, i love you, i'm sorry. and will pets his hair, promises him it's okay and he's not angry or sad, that mack can use him as a punching bag all he likes. he fetches him every bizarre craving. when mack woke up in the middle of the night, crying, asking for a very specific flavor and brand of chip and some canadian chocolate bar, will drove to three different 24 hour shops and found the closest possible match, shame pooling in his belly because it's not exactly what mack wanted. he gets home, ready to apologize and tell mack that he's really, really sorry, sweetheart and he'll go back right when they open, i promise. he finds mack curdled up on will's pillow, dead to the world.

he loves the outfits, too. buying toys and onesies and little hats and bows. when they have more kids, they'll always be coordinated. the pups together, and the whole family.

the first time they have sex after finding out, will is so careful. mack's still hardly showing, could easily pass for bloated. will stalls anyways, keeps his touches featherlight. mack huffs at him, what is your problem, fuck me already, will. will gnaws on his lip, i'm worried i'm gonna hurt you, or the pup. mack's face softens, and his hand rubs will's side comfortingly. you're not gonna, the doctor said it was fine. besides, basic anatomy, they're like, up there. your dick isn't that big, smitty.

(mack loves his alpha. loves how much he cares. he's heard stories about alphas being absent during pregnancy, and fatherhood. that they don't really care beyond the breeding part. so, he lets him fuss and tries not to complain when he gets a little overbearing. because will is such a good alpha, and mate. and he's going to be the best dad to their pups.)

The sight was endearing to Will, even as his omega panicked the moment the pup let out her first cry, still tugging at Mack’s shirt as if telling him to take the offending cloth off.

Then it clicks. The pup rubbing her face against his chest, mouthing at the exact place where Mack’s nipple is. The baby wanted milk from the omega. His omega, who’s not producing milk because he’s definitely not pregnant.

Will buries the thought in his hindbrain, refusing to acknowledge the concept of Mack producing milk, Mack lactating, Mack's chest growing into soft mounds, waddling around while round with Will’s pups, Mack—

Burying it was a mistake, as it only ends up growing. It planted itself, took root, and now every time Mack is shirtless, or even just the sight of his pink nipples, drives him up the wall.

He ends up developing a fixation on Mack’s chest, groping the tiniest amount of flesh, squeezing it on his palms as he latches on a nipple, alternating between sucking and lapping at the bud. He’s slobbered enough times on Mack’s chest that his brain starts thinking that Mack is actually producing milk, making up the taste gracing his tongue, and it only spurs him on, his whole mouth latching on the bud and sucking, like he’s pulling actual milk out from Mack’s tits.

He would suck on his nipples for hours, even after Mack had already come. His cock—now lying soft—still buried in Mack’s pussy, the soft walls lightly bearing down on his length every time he bites down, or when his teeth accidentally scrape on a bud. he falls asleep multiple times with Mack lightly running his nails on his scalp, letting out soft purrs, and with his mouth still latched on Mack’s chest.

Mack points it out one day, when he catches Will staring at his chest out in the open. He knows well enough that his nipples are probably poking through his shirt. Days and days of Will endlessly stimulating them have made it puffy and irritated and sore that even the lightest graze of his shirt would make him wince in discomfort

“My eyes are up here.”

“Huh?” Will answers unintelligently, still staring at Mack’s chest.

“You’re not making an effort to make it less obvious, are you?”

Will only nod dazedly, closing his mouth and gulping down the saliva pooling in it.

“You know, my heat is coming up,” Mack says with a suggestive voice. “My pills ran out a week ago. I was thinking maybe I should stop taking—“

The alpha didn’t even let him finish the sentence. He dragged Mack to their car, almost (most likely) went over the speed limit, and locked themselves in their home, like a man on a mission.

And, well, Will’s dreams slowly come into fruition when Mack starts complaining about breast tenderness, when the then tiny amount of flesh grows into small mounds, enough to fill Will’s palms every time he gropes them.

And it all comes true when Mack—unaware—starts leaking through his shirt. The small, wet patch right where his nipple is situated keeps on growing with every small movement, until Will points it out by bunching his shirt up to his pits, rubbing his baby bump as Will puts his mouth on Mack’s nipple, desperately sucking on the small amount of milk his omega is producing.