#willmack fic

masterlist

a/n: im done linking all the parts to ts guys I'm sorry,😓

warnings: suggestive, swearing

omega mack wanting will to be his alpha so bad but not thinking he wants him back. mack finally realizing what will is doing, and immediately trying to jump into bed with him.

will explaining to him that he wants to go slow, and mack trying to be so so so good but he just can’t.

will giving in and finally kissing him, feeling mack leak slick through his shorts and onto will’s lap. mack kissing him and grinding against him until they’re both too close to the edge to continue. mack rushing off to wills bedroom, fucking himself on his fingers until he comes all over will’s sheets, shamelessly leaving his mess behind and going back to join will on the couch again. mack finding will flushed and sweaty with the scent of his come in the air, clearly having been just as badly affected as mack.

mack finding loopholes, telling will it’s technically not sex if he eats him out, or if he blows him, or if he fingers him. will agreeing, too drunk on mack’s scent to do anything but bury his face between mack’s thighs and finger him until he cries.

mack convincing him to fuck his thighs, still so horny and loose from wills fingers earlier, his slick making the slide so easy that will just slips inside and finds himself balls deep inside of mack seconds later. mack stilling, internally panicking because he didn’t actually want will to abandon his beliefs and oh god what if he hates him and– but then will starts plowing into him, and it takes him all but five thrusts until he’s knotted inside of mack, coming inside of him and sending mack over the edge just from the sheer thought of it

mack fucking himself on his knot until will comes inside him again, begging will to bite him, and he just sinks his teeth into mack’s neck with the most satisfying little pop and then mack is coming again and squeezing the life out of wills knot and mack just won’t stop, not until wills bred him full, and his come is leaking out of him and down onto the sheets and—

part one

** please note the order has no meaning. i am NOT rating fics!

** you'd think i bookmarked fics by the order i've read them, alas i am a mess who forgets to bookmark stuff and is trying to be better about it, so that's why the order might not make sense lol but this list will help me keep track so yay!

multi-chapter fics:

baby, spare me all the rest by somewereroses — 3 chapters, explicit

something tells me by pnwren — 10 chapters, explicit

bad idea by dalsy — 2 chapters, mature

shoot your shot by haroldslouis — 3 chapters, explicit

safe bet by loganes — 2 chapters, explicit

break my heart and start a fire (you got me overnight) by cryproudly99 — 4 chapters, explicit

i get what i want (and last i checked, it's you) by cryproudly99 — 2 chapters, explicit

one-shots:

born for this by dalsy — mature

best friends and better halves by breakfasts — teen and up audiences

hands off by dalsy — explicit

Dead Reckoning by tanlines — explicit

puppy love by dalsy — general audiences

god is real (he was sleepin' in my bed last night) by beyondearths — explicit (omegaverse)

fueling the fire by beyondearths — explicit (omegaverse)

jaws by dalsy — explicit

alone together by dalsy — explicit

Milk and Honey by tanlines — explicit

golden boy by dalsy — explicit

warm blanket by allthespoons — explicit

spring tides by somewereroses — explicit

test drive by dalsy — explicit

Violent Delights by Anonymous — explicit (omegaverse)

sounds like trouble by dalsy — explicit

i scratched, you won by allthespoons — explicit

sidelined by dalsy — explicit

buckle on your belt by litaf1101 — mature

Black lagoon, call me a swamp monster by mcjesuswept — explicit

Pacify by tanlines — explicit

bloodsport by dalsy — explicit

the front door barely clicks shut behind him before you're off the couch and in front of him.

will's still clad in team-issued sweats, sling strapped tight around his chest. the faint bruise peeking out from his collar is already turning a deep, ugly purple.

you swallow.

"hey," he says softly.

the pittsburgh game feels like it happened a year ago, not two days. you watched him get driven into the boards. your mind hadn't stopped replaying it yet.

you step forward slowly, like any sudden movement might send a new shock of pain through his bruised shoulder. you reach for his bag before he can get his shoes off and guide him inside, then toe the door shut with your foot so he doesn’t have to twist.

"don't carry that."

Cast No Shadow

Macklin Celebrini/Will Smith🩵

Explicit | Time Travel AU | 100k+ words | 13 chapters | completed! updates will come swiftly as editing progresses!

The only reason Mack’s not majorly freaking out right now is because of what Toff told him no more than a week prior. This happens in hockey. A lot. It’s just that… Mack had never really considered it happening to him.

Chapter 6 (10k) is out now!

chapter 7 delayed but coming soon! <3

PLEASE READ

last updated - 24 June, 2026

requests: open :)

Total number of works: girl idk, i stopped counting (52, not counting indv chapters)

All of these should be considered one-shots/stand-alones unless otherwise stated!

Angst - ★ Fluff - ✿ Smut - ❤︎⁠ Headcanons/blurbs - ✦

Please do not reupload any of these works on any website

Before the house keys. Before September. Before the letter.

But when it finally happens, it happens all at once.

They move into the new place just as the air starts to shift toward fall, boxes half-unpacked and sunlight spilling across hardwood floors that still don’t quite feel like theirs yet. Mack laughs it off, but Will can already feel it building. The season, the expectations, the weight of something just out of reach but inevitable.

And then the C is stitched onto Mack’s chest.

It’s quiet when it happens. No grand announcement between them, no big reaction. Just Will standing there, tracing the letter with his fingertips, and knowing that everything is about to change.

The requests start trickling in before the season even properly begins. Team dinners. Appearances. Charity events. Community outreach. Media days that stretch too long and leave Mack blinking under bright lights, answering the same questions in slightly different ways. Playoff talk starts early this year, hovering over everything like a promise or a threat.

Mack takes it all in with quiet determination, like he always does. Back straight, jaw set, like he’s bracing for the eve of battle. In front of the team, he smiles, nods, and shows up.

But Will sees what lingers. The way his shoulders hold tension longer than they used to. The way his laugh comes a second too late some days.

So Will steps in.

It’s not a conversation. Not really. Just something he does.

One night, Mack falls asleep on the couch with the game tape still playing softly in the background, and Will opens his laptop at the kitchen island. He builds a spreadsheet. Then another. Then another. By the end of the week there are twenty tabs, everything color-coded, cross-referenced, dated down to the hour. Events, requests, follow-ups, logistics. It becomes a system. Something controlled. Something manageable.

He texts Cat and Felicia, again and again, until they finally give in and add him to the WAG group chat. He scrolls through months of messages, learning the rhythms, the expectations, the unspoken rules. He inserts himself where needed. Volunteers without making it obvious.

He takes the late-night calls so Mack doesn’t have to. Answers emails over morning coffee. Coordinates dinners, confirms guest lists, tracks RSVPs. Spends an entire afternoon hunched over fabric samples, redesigning the team jacket until it feels right.

By December, their house isn’t just theirs anymore. It’s full. Laughter, music, games, people moving in and out of rooms, voices overlapping. Will is in the kitchen, sleeves pushed up, carefully frosting a giant teal Sharks cake while someone shouts his name from the living room.

Everything runs smoothly.

Everyone is happy.

And somehow, in the middle of it all, something small begins to slip.

It’s not noticeable at first. Just a missed afternoon here, a delayed plan there. The easy, aimless hours they used to fall into without thinking start disappearing, replaced by schedules and obligations and exhaustion that settles deep into their bones.

They used to spend entire evenings outside, shirtless by the pool, half-drunk on High Noons, making up ridiculous games just to have an excuse to touch. Sting pong bruises blooming across their skin like proof of it all, cold hands pressed to warm bodies, laughter spilling out of them. The world reduced to something small, contained, and entirely their own.

Now, when they finally get a moment alone, it feels borrowed.

They collapse into bed more than they climb into it. Barely speak some nights. Just press their foreheads together, eyes closed, breathing in sync like it’s the only way to steady everything else.

One night, Mack’s voice breaks the quiet.

“I hate what me being captain has done to you.”

Will lets out a tired breath, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Don’t be stupid. You love everything I do for your sake.”

But Mack doesn’t rise to it. He just shifts closer, buries his face into Will’s neck, voice softer now.

“Not when what you do for me takes you away from me.”

The words land heavier than anything else has.

Will’s hand moves automatically, threading into Mack’s hair, holding him there. He doesn’t answer. Because there isn’t anything he could say that would make it simpler.

He doesn’t say that he’d do all of this again. That he already has, in his head, a hundred times over. That every spreadsheet, every call, every late night is worth it if it means Mack carries even a little less.

If it means seeing that easy, unguarded smile a few more times. The one that’s been showing up less and less lately.

Mack’s breathing slows, steadying into sleep.

Will stares at the ceiling a little longer.

Yeah, he thinks, I’d run myself into the ground just to keep pace with how fast your world is spinning.

And somewhere in that half-space between waking and sleep, Mack shifts closer, like instinct, like gravity, a quiet pull neither of them ever fights.