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A story in two parts (second picture from this video x)

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└ sway tasting the four nations jersey

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The first time I stepped in the room in this organization I saw Marchy working out in the middle of July.

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okay kept thinking about anon's concept of will snapchatting leno while hitting it from behind while mack wears his jersey (also shout out to la - not gonna spoil it but when you read this you'll see what detail i stole from you lmao) so anyway! have some jersey bet filth!!

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“No,” Mack says immediately when he glances back and clocks the jersey Will grabbed from the backseat.

“Bet’s not over,” Will reminds him, nudging Mack through the door so he can shut – and lock – it behind them. He kicks off his shoes and shrugs out of his suit jacket in the little hallway by the door before making his way into the main room where Mack’s bed is.

“You’re not seriously gonna make me wear that right now,” Mack whines, trailing after him as he starts shedding his own gameday suit. “Smitty. C’mon. Be for real.”

The pregame stuff had been funny. Mack’s face after he pulled Will’s tarp on, the guys chirping him, all the pictures. But Will’s been waiting for this all night.

He tosses his jersey onto the bed, EAGLES emblazoned across the front, and ignores the pang of sudden homesickness. “I’m for real. Strip, Celly.”

Mack complains the entire time, but his button up and suit pants join the growing pile on the floor, then his briefs, and finally his socks. He slowly approaches the Eagles’ jersey, lip curled with distaste, and picks it up with one finger hooked in the collar. “Listen,” he starts, and Will cuts him off.

“Put it on, Mack. You know the terms. Pregame walk-in and postgame fuck. Let’s fucking go.”

Heaving an enormous sigh, Mack reluctantly pulls the jersey over his head. It’s a little unfair how well he fills it out without any pads, and Will shoves him between the shoulder blades about it, hand right on his own nameplate. Mack goes sprawling onto the bed, too easy, and the way the bottom of the jersey rides up, his thick thighs, that ass on display just below the BC colored stripes… yeah. This is what Will wanted.

Mack looks back over his shoulder. “You gonna stare all night, or you gonna touch me?”

Snapping his mouth shut, Will smirks at him, jerking his chin up. “You look good like this, Celly. Wearing my tarp. My name.”

Mack’s expression does something complicated, like he can’t decide if he’s pleased or pissed. There’s a telltale splotchy pink to his cheeks though, creeping down his throat. “If I look so good, why aren’t you fucking me?” he finally says, wiggling his ass a little.

Will could stare all night, but he’s got bigger plans. He grabs the lube, nudging Mack’s thighs apart and settling on the mattress behind him. Working him open with one hand, he grips his jersey with the other, pulling it taut so there aren’t any wrinkles in his nameplate, in the giant 6 plastered across Mack’s back. There’s a little wheeze in Mack’s breath, like maybe the collar’s too tight against his throat, but he doesn’t complain and Will doesn’t loosen his grip.

Once he’s three fingers deep, Mack rocking back against his hand, panting and begging for more, Will finally pulls his fingers free, wiping them off on the back of Mack’s thigh.

“C’mon, c’mon, fuck me already,” Mack demands. The hair at the nape of his neck’s damp with sweat. So’s his lower back when Will pushes the jersey up a little. It’s going to smell like Mack by the time Will’s done with him.

“Easy kid,” Will tells him, picking up his phone. He snaps a quick pic, Mack half-naked and open for him, Smith across his shoulder blades, before balancing his phone on Mack’s back so he can feed his dick inside him.

Mack cranes his neck around, looking back at Will over his shoulder. “Dude.”

“Yeah, keep your face just like that,” Will tells him, grabbing for his phone again, gripping the jersey tight with his other hand. Mack glares and Will snaps another pic, making sure to get the glare, the nameplate, the way his dick is splitting Mack open in the shot. “Perfect.”

He’s going to take a video too, obviously, but he doesn’t trust himself to keep everything in frame once he gets going. Even now it’s hard to keep still, and he starts lazily rolling his hips before Mack’s whining really starts going, even as he opens up Snap, thumbing through his contacts.

The pic’s going to Leno for sure. Gabe, too. Why not? Zeev will appreciate it, so Will clicks his name, adds him to the list. He scrolls some more, pausing on Cole Eiserman. They don’t message very often. Mack will probably be pissed, but if Eiserman played better, scored a goal or two for BU, maybe Mack wouldn’t have lost the bet.

Will adds him.

“Will,” Mack grunts, shoving his hips back. “Quit fucking around and fuck me.”

“I’m almost done,” Will says, distracted. He’s got a decent list here. Can’t think of anyone else crucial, but then one more name catches his eye, low on his Snap contacts. Will hesitates, pulling hard enough on the jersey that Mack audibly chokes. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, loosening his grip.

Mack sucks in a deep, gasping breath, dropping to his elbows. “Fuck meee,” he moans, pathetic, into the sheets.

Fuck it. Will clicks the last name – John Leonard – and then hits send. Throwing his phone down, he grabs Mack by the hips, and finally gives Mack what he’s been asking for.

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After – after they’ve both come, Will pulling out just in time to come all over Mack’s ass and thighs, dripping down his crack, taking a few more pics of him looking absolutely ruined in Will’s jersey, after half-heartedly cleaning him up, after they’re both tucked into bed, Mack curled up on Will’s chest, dozing contentedly, Will’s jersey a sweaty mess crumpled on the floor, Will finally checks his phone.

Leno’s the only one who’s responded – it’s gotta be like, 3 or 4am on the east coast, so what he’s doing up checking Will’s Snaps is certainly a question Will’s not examining too hard – and his message makes Will’s dick stir with interest like he didn’t just come all over Mack ten minutes ago.

when we beat bu in the beanpot i get a turn

gonna make of mess of him and ur jersey smitt

-

By morning, the rest of the responses have trickled in.

GP: 😳🫣 Z: guy wins one bet and thinks he’s hot shit fucking someone wearing his tarp. gag him on his own losing record and then we'll talk Eiserman: sloppy seconds whatev i had him first tho J Leno: christ r u two even legal yet am i going to jail for this [snapchat of a dick pic]

“What are you looking at?” Mack asks groggily, hooking his chin over Will’s shoulder.

Will angles his phone screen towards Mack. “Leno says BC is gonna beat BU at the beanpot. Double or nothing? If BC wins, he gets to fuck you in my tarp.”

Mack scoffs. “BU is gonna wipe the floor with them. Tell Leonard it’s fucking on.”

Will grins. “Yeah, okay bud. I sure will.”

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snoopy of the day

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snoopy of the day

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anyone else see these shots from the centennial on the bruins facebook and then get hit with a wave of emotion so strong that they just sat in their car and stared for 10 minutes while waiting for their target pickup order? anyone else feel so fucking soft and warm about these giant men looking like wide-eyed kids again? anyone else feel so goddamn romantic about the entire ceremony and hockey magic? about Marchand and Bergeron being immortalized for all the next hundred years in this fucking celebration?

no? just me?

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this is what they look like walking down the aisle right after they get married 💍

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Brad please we know you’re married to Patrice but did you really need to admit it to the whole world

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Brad Marchand and Patrice Bergeron at the Black and Gold Gala 1.15.25

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marchy’s gonna be mad at me ☺️

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Do you think Marchy ever chirps Nate over Sid?

Absolutely.

But it's not like Marchy has any room to talk. At all.

He's literally kissed Bergy on the ice during games before.

Pot, meet kettle.

(on another note. Looking at pictures of Bergy and Marchy together reminds me that even though Marchy is our current captain, Bergy will always be Marchy's captain. 🥺)

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1.15.2025 | Patrice Bergeron and Brad Marchand at the Bruins Black & Gold Gala

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snoopy of the day

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Willie O'Ree's number should be retired league-wide just like Jackie Robinson's is in the MLB

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Patrice Bergeron and Brad Marchand during the Black and Gold Gala 1.15.25

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i’m mentally unstable