Current thoughts are just like… Mack’s ass is so fat, Will is literally drooling just looking at photos. And when he finally sees him in person he’s absolutely desperate to fuck it, but like… fuck his ass not his hole. Wants to squeeze his cheeks together and slide his dick between them. Lots of lube. The squelch of it is nasty. Mack is kneeling, ass up, chest down on the mattress, face buried in his arms. His back arch is crazy. His ass is so fat Will’s hands barely cover each cheek. Will’s talking so much nonsense, just babbling about how good Mack looks, how good he feels, how he’s gonna come all over his ass. Mack is pink all over, warm, blushing at the praise. Will fucks into him, and he’s so fucking hard because like holy fuck Mack’s body is unreal. And then he comes, spurting streaks all over those pale cheeks, making him look a mess, and Mack just kind of whimpers and comes against the mattress. And like, they’re both kind of embarrassed about it but… fuck, it’s Mack’s fault for looking like that so…
Omega4omega Willmack who become best friends because they’re the two rookie omegas on the team (it’s rare to have that many omegas, most teams only have one or two total, but the Sharks have several, however, the older ones are already mated.) So they spend all their time together. They room together on the road because it’s safe. They’re literally attached at the hip and it’s like they don’t need anyone else. Mack’s never been with an alpha (never been with anyone actually), but Will has, and he hated it. He hated the way the alpha felt entitled to him. Hated the way he felt trapped. Hated how desperate his heats made him, and the alphas that would just laugh and call him pathetic, but he needed it so bad that he had to just suck it up and let them have their way.
Meanwhile Mack has just been suffering through his heats alone, because his father made him feel like being an omega was something shameful that he had to overcome in order to be successful rather than something he could embrace.
So the first time Mack goes into heat while they’re together, they’re in a hotel in some bland city that doesn’t matter, and Mack hesitantly approaches Will after dinner and says, “I’m going to ask for my own room.” And Will’s eyes narrow in confusion. Has he done something wrong? He wracks his brain but can’t think of anything, and then Mack just shakes his head. “I just don’t want to, um, bother you,” he says. And Will can smell it, the shame and fear coming off him in waves, but also, underneath it, the smell of slick, of need. Will immediately understands, and his chest instantly clenches, upset that Mack thinks this would ever be a bother to him.
“Mack, it’s okay. You don’t have to be alone. I can…” he trails off, not sure if what he wants to offer is okay. But Mack blinks at him, waiting for him to continue, and it’s soft and sweet enough to make him take the leap. “I can try to help,” he says.
Mack’s so shy about it, so in his head about this making him weak, that it’s not something anyone should see, but Will promises it’s okay. Tells him he gets it. Like, if anyone is going to understand, it’s him. And so he lets Mack crawl under his covers, and holds him close as his body heats up and trembles, and when Mack’s finally so gone in it that he can’t control himself anymore, Will lets him rut up against his thigh, feeling his slick leaking through both their pajama pants. And Mack is clinging to him, his face buried in his neck, and they’re both inhaling each others scent glands, and Will is petting Mack’s back and murmuring over and over, “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here.”
And Mack’s crying softly by the time he comes, and he’s shaking violently in Will’s arms, and Will kisses the top of his head. “Feeling better?” he asks softly, and Mack nods slowly, but then mutters, “Still hurts. Still feels like… I need more.” And Will knows what he means. Knows that only an alpha can really fix that. And it squeezes his chest painfully that there’s nothing he can do.
Things go on like this for a while. Will tries to encourage Mack to find an alpha, because Mack’s heats are so painful, infinitely worse than Will’s, and maybe that’s because Will’s been with alphas and Mack never has. But Mack just glares at him when he suggests it. So Will does his best to help Mack, and their relationship is genuinely so good. They’re so close. They trust each other like no one else. They share a bed now. They cuddle. They’re calmed by each other’s scents. Will sleeps with his face buried in Mack’s neck, his soft sweet scent the only thing that can instantly put him to sleep. And for Mack, it’s Will’s arms around his waist, Will’s chest pressed firmly against his back.
Mack goes into a particularly bad heat once when they’re back in San Jose. And he’s home alone in Jumbo’s guest house, and Will isn’t there for him to crawl into bed with and silently ask for help. And it’s so much harder to actually ask for help, to call Will and ask him to come over, so Mack tries to tough it out, but it’s so bad. He’s shaking violently in his bed, burning hot, covered in sweat, pain radiating through his body from the need, the desperation. He tries using his fingers but it’s not enough. He takes every bit of strength he has to reach for his phone and text Will, “Please, I need you.”
And Will is there as fast as he could physically make it, and he scoops Mack up into his arms and runs his fingers through his hair and down his back and murmurs, “Oh Mackie, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” And Mack whimpers and sobs into his chest and says, “It hurts so much. Will. I need you, please.”
And Will doesn’t know what he can do. He wants so badly to be enough for Mack, but he knows he can’t be. Still, he lets Mack guide his hand towards his cunt, drags his fingers through his slick, slowly pushes them inside his warmth. Mack’s grip on his forearm tightens as Will thrusts his fingers into him, and he whimpers, “More, more Will, I need—” And Will gives him more, gives him as much as he can, but it’s not enough. It’s never going to be enough. And Will squeezes his eyes shut and begs and pleads that he could be enough for Mack, that he could give Mack what he needs, take care of him in the way that he so craves to.
And as he feels Mack clench around his fingers, feels his body start to tremble in the way he no intimately knows means he’s close, something in Will’s biology awakens. His face is already pressed into Mack’s neck, but he shifts just a little further back, mouthing at the hot skin of his nape, and then he pulls his lips back, his teeth scraping against Mack’s skin and Mack shivers violently, clinging to him.
“Mack,” he breathes out in a choked whisper. “Mack, can I?” And Mack nods, knowing exactly what he’s asking, and gasps, “P-please.”
And Will sinks his teeth into Mack’s neck, biting down hard on the skin, and Mack cries out in his arms but it’s not in pain. Will feels slick gushing over his hand as Mack shakes and moans, and then slowly both of them still, freezing as they become aware of the shift, of Will’s scent changing. Will pulls away from where his teeth have left a wound on Mack’s neck, and both their eyes are wide as they stare at each other.
Mack’s eyes are wild, pupils fully blown black, staring at Will with such an intensity that it scares him a little. And Will feels like he’s moving in slow motion, everything is fuzzy and feels very far away, like when you’re drunk and you feel like you’re watching your body from ten feet in the air. And then Mack’s diving in, pressing his face to Will’s scent gland and inhaling, and Will comes crashing back into his consciousness, and he digs his fingers into Mack’s shoulders, and Mack whines the most delightful sound Will’s ever heard. “Alpha?” Mack gasps out against Will’s neck, and Will nods, and pulls Mack closer to him, and Mack wraps his legs around Will’s waist and rolls his hips into him, and Will can smell his need in an entirely new way, and it ignites a fire behind his eyes. He suddenly knows exactly what to do. His biology finally aligns with his desire. He can finally give Mack what he needs. He can give his omega what he needs.
They’ve only been apart for two and a half months, but it was enough for Mack to have that final growth spurt guys get right at the end of their teens. It’s not even two inches, but it puts him distinctly taller than Will now, and when they hug at the airport (awkward and messy because they’re trying to find the balance of whatever the hell platonic would look like between them, and also Will’s carrying a giant bag of hockey gear, but they still want to crawl into each other’s skin) Mack notices. He notices the way he has to bend down just a little to get his arms properly around Will’s torso. The way Will is stretching to wrap his around Mack’s shoulders. And Mack feels it like an anchor attached to his gut, pulling him down, sinking, dreading. It was bad enough when they were the same height. Now, Mack just feels like his skin is too tight. Like he’s some oversized puppy, a St. Bernard that’s too big for the house, that’s going to knock over everything and break the fine china. When they get into the car, he slouches down in the driver’s seat. He meets Will’s eyes in the mirror and looks away.
The next morning when they’re getting ready to go to the rink, standing next to each other in the Celebrinis’ kitchen, drinking protein shakes with their shoulders pressed together, Will sets his drink down and say, “Be right back,” and scurries back up to the room. Mack frowns at his glass and chugs the rest of the shake, and is just finishing when Will reappears, holding a different pair of sneakers than the ones he’d left at the door the night before. As they’re gathering up their gear, he slips them on, and Mack’s eyes widen slightly. He glances down and sees that the sneakers have at least two and a half inches of platform sole, and when he looks back up at Will, they’re eye to eye. Mack’s lips twitch into a smile, and Will’s gaze darts around the house to make sure they’re alone, and then he dips in to kiss Mack sweetly and squeeze his waist. “Still my baby,” he murmurs against his lips. “My big baby.”
Something I keep accidentally writing into my fics is that Will getting his hair played with immediately sends him into subspace. Thinking about how they would have discovered this… like they’re watching a movie, Will’s laying on Mack’s chest, or with his head in his lap, but he’s picking his nails and chewing his lip and Mack can tell he’s stressed about something, but the fact that he’s focusing on the movie means he probably doesn’t want to talk about it. So Mack is just rubbing his back, trailing his fingers slowly up and down his arm, and Will is slowly getting less tense. But then Mack brings his hand up to Will’s hair, and he’s just stroking his fingers through it, scratching lightly at his scalp, and Will’s eyelids flutter, and his breath comes out a little shaky. So Mack keeps going, twirling Will’s curls around his fingers, weaving his hand through his hair and tugging gently, and Will goes completely limp. Just sinks into Mack’s lap, boneless. His hands are still, his jaw goes slack, his eyes are glazed. Mack stares, wide eyed, hand frozen in Will’s hair, worried at first that something is wrong, until Will nuzzles against his thigh, presses up against his hand like he wants more, and Mack takes a shaky breath and continues moving his hand. And Will fucking purrs and Mack manages to mumble, “This is good?” and Will takes a moment to process the question, but he nods, unable to speak at this point. And Mack keeps going, and neither of them are watching the movie any longer, because Will is on a completely different plane of existence at this point, and Mack is just fully locked in on his boy and making sure he’s okay.
And afterwards, once Will comes back to himself, Mack is super hesitant to ask about it, so when they’re going to sleep and he’s spooning around Will, he buries his face in his neck and mumbles, “Was that good? Was that… like… a thing?” And Will nods, “Yeah, it was good, baby.” And they’re dumb idiot boys so they don’t actually know what it means, but Mack is a “if it works, it works” kind of guy, so it becomes a thing any time Will gets too much in his head.
Serial killer Mack is obsessed with Will, fucks every one of Will’s past hookups to feel like he’s closer to him…
Asks them “how did Will do it? Show me.” and fucks them the same way, and then slits their throats slowly as soon as he comes. It starts with the random ones, the D tier—Fowler, Aram, Zeev, Hagens, Will fucking Vote—which is a lot of boring vanilla sex, blowjobs, handies, shower sex with Aram, topping Hags. Moves on to Matty, sucks his dick while Matty yanks his hair and calls him needy, lets Matty take him apart slowly with his fingers and then fuck him hard into the mattress. Almost feels sorry when Matty lifts his hand to cup his cheek before Mack drags his knife across his neck. Gabe is next, and he just looks bored as he sucks Mack off, and Mack wonders what that’s all about. Ryan is last. Ryan kisses down his back, and spreads his cheeks with his hand and eats him out slowly. Ryan leaves bruises on his thighs, and fucks him gently while staring into his eyes. Ryan murmurs, “Will…” softly as he kisses his shoulder and strokes his cock and doesn’t pull out after he comes inside him. Mack spills Ryan’s blood with him still inside, and lays there as Ryan’s body goes cold on top of him. He stares at his knife and thinks about how good it’s going to feel to take Will apart in exactly the ways he now knows he likes. How he’ll make Will beg and plead and whimper. And how delicious it will all be when Will clings to him as he ends it, Will’s pretty red blood spilling into his hands as he holds him close and tells him he loves him.
Prompt (from anon): Benedict being silly and goofy with his girlfriend and dropping into his different voices and characters
I can actually imagine Benedict doing this. Either to cheer his girlfriend/wife up or just..having some fun in bed xD
------
(1)
It had be quite cold the last few days, and this particular Saturday was no different. You had burrowed yourself under the blankets; the top of your head was the only thing visible should one peek into the bedroom. You groaned softly when you found... nothing next to you in bed.
Your personal heater had already gotten out of bed.
You sighed and stretched, blinking your eyes and trying to clear them. You hear the bedroom door opening and then the clunk of a mug being placed on the bedside table by your head.
Before you can turn and greet your boyfriend, the bed dipped under Benedict's weight and his body literally flopped over you as he wrapped his long limbs around you.
"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!!!!!!" Benedict said cheerily, making his voice higher pitched.
You couldn't help but laugh when you recognized whose voice he was using.
Martin Crieff's.
You grunted under his weight and twisted your body, effectively throwing him off of you. He chuckled and laid on his side, head propped up with his hand. You pushed off the blanket and laid on your side, mirroring him.
"Hello." You grinned when he leaned in to kiss the tip of your nose in reply.
"Hey, sorry for jumping on you like that... Was just trying to wake you up more."
"Well, I'm wide awake now," you drawled. "...Martin." You smirked at him when he realized you knew he used one of his character's voice.
Game. On.
------
(2)
It's afternoon now and you thought it was a great idea to tidy up the house. Benedict wasn't the world's tidiest person, and you weren't either.
And so, you started off with vacuuming. That took around half an hour because there so many corners and just stuff around the house.
Books and magazines carelessly tossed aside; week old newspapers crumpled up and left on the dining table... you even found one of Benedict's ties under the sofa.
You may be at fault for that.
As you were organizing the DVD rack, you felt more than hear Benedict standing behind you. His arm curled around you and pulled you flushed against his hard body.
"That's not how I organize them, sweetheart." He purred. "You know I have them in alphabetical order AND by genres." Benedict lets you go and kisses your cheek.
You didn't look at him, but was smiling nonetheless.
Sherlock Holme's voice. Interesting.
"Oh yes, Mr. Holmes, I'll sort it out right away." You turned your head and grinned at him, waggling your eyebrows at the same time.
Benedict gave you a bored look, very much like the ones Sherlock would give to people, but his lips were curved in a tiny smile.
"See that you do. I'd hate to have my DVD index be messed with."
You scoffed and pushed him away. "Go away, Sherlock! It's your turn to do laundry."
-----
(3)
"I am king under the mountain!" Benedict growled and started tickling every ticklish spot on your body.
You squealed and tried to roll away from his fingers. "What mountain?" You laid on your belly with your arms tight against your sides, preventing Benedict to tickle your waist. You giggled again when he started poking at your lower back; you weren't ticklish there though.
"This home. This very room... all part of the mountain I am king of," Ben growled, his voice dropping an octave lower.
Smaug, the dragon.
Benedict lifted his body up, giving you the space to turn over and look up at him. He smiled down at you before laying down and spooning you, your back to his front. If Benedict really had wings, you'd imagine they would be wrapped around you as well.
You yawned; laughing and trying to avoid his fingers took energy. You smiled sleepily when Benedict nuzzled into your hair.
"Why am I kept here, o' great dragon? Am I prisoner here?"
Benedict shook his head. "No, my dear... You are my greatest treasure and I planned to keep you forever."
Ficlet: Steve/Tony - Under The Lights [Part 1 of 2]
“I’m not going to die”
That was his mantra as he stared up at the bright lights above him, “I’m not.”
“Okay Mr Rogers we’re going to put you under anaesthesia now.” He heard as the mask that was strapped to his face filled with gas, knocking him out almost instantly, everything became blurry before he shut his eyes. All the while Tony was sitting in the waiting room, his hand rubbing his face anxiously. Bruce walked up to him, having never seen him this distraught, not in a long time.
“Calm down Tony, it’s just a routine procedure, just to investigate how the serums going after all these years.” He said as he took a seat, handing the white foam cup of fragrant coffee to Tony.
“I know.” He replied with bitter haste, his eyes darting down to the black coffee that swirled in the cup, taking a sip of it. The caffeine certainly wasn’t going to help calm his nerves.
Every time Steve would get on an operating table he’d think that he was going to die. It was a reflex from when he was a child and practically suffered from every illness and aliment under the sun. He would feel his body shake and would feel the blood in his entire body just dissipate for that very moment. Every time he had an injury, it’d be the same but of course he’d have this strong, brave face on, though truthfully, he hated hospitals. Though his mother was a nurse, who would ease his nerves sometimes, but being poked and prodded with needles (especially now that his mother was no longer around) made him feel like a lab rat. A lab rat was what he was, and he knew it, but he just had to endure it all for the sake of protecting the country that he loved so much, as well as all of the other people in the world.
The only thing keeping him going was knowing that Tony was outside, knowing that after this was all done, he’d be able to wrap his arms around him again.
“This is all just a routine procedure.” The words echoed in Tony’s mind as he stood up, gazing through the window as he placed his hand on the wooden painted door, watching them take blood, open him up, see how his wounds heal so quickly. He scowled, narrowing his eyes.
“How dare they do that to my captain.” He growled internally. Bruce watched helplessly, knowing that words of comfort would do no good, not when Tony was stuck in this mind-set. He was relentless, and wouldn’t stop until he saw the Captain at full and perfect health.
[part two shall be written after I get back from sugery~ lalala~ ]
