wowsmutty

[wowsmutty]

𝙄𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙒𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝘿𝘼𝙏𝙉𝙂 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇𝙉𝙀...

slight NSFW, arguments and fluff mentions!

(@fallinforhappiness) — REQUESTS ARE OPEN

IN THE RELATIONSHIP…

- will is a teasing kind of boyfriend, he’ll either insult you or be your biggest fan.

‘do you like my dress, will?’

‘no…’

‘what?’

‘just kiddin’ darlin’, you look beautiful.’

- you are the one wearing the trousers in the relationship without a doubt.

- every weekend, if there is a formula one race you guys will watch it, and sometimes he will even take you to the races.

- you’re always working behind the camera when he films with james or mikey.

- aby and orla are literally your work sisters, you’ll take the piss out the boys consistently with them.

- you and james consistently argue over who is actually in the relationship with will.

‘he hangs out with me all the time!’

‘james, i literally sleep with him.’

‘y/n!’

‘it’s trueeee.’

- you guys makes the dirtiest jokes consistently.

- there are a million inside jokes between the two of you that nobody ever understands.

- literally the sweetest when you’re on your period or ill, will do anything for you; will go out to the shop and buy you anything, will lay his hands on your stomach to ease the pain.

- he’s your hype man.

- your hands are always in his hair, if you’re out, you’ll fix his hair: you’re just obsessed with his hair.

- he wants to spend every waking hour with you so before you finally move in together, he was spending every night at yours. - if you go anywhere without him, he encourages you to wear something of his and he will DRENCH it in his aftershave.

‘jeez will, this jumper reeks of you.’

‘as it should, pet.’

- his hand will always be on your thigh, if you’re sat together he will place his hand there like it’s a muscle memory.

- will was never a romantic before he met you, but you forced him to watch romcoms which he now looks to as inspiration when he wants date ideas.

- you guys without fail with make one night a week to spend time with one another.

- he’s the kind of man to offer to carry all of your stuff and then complain about it afterwards.

‘your bag is so fuckin heavy.’

‘you asked to hold it, will!’

- he goes on runs with you all the time 😉

- he definitely has a polaroid of you and him in the back of his phone, which he proudly shows off in any conversation with anybody new.

- you guys share a playlist with one another, which mostly consists of james’ music and sam fender. (i love sam so much and i know will does too.)

- he’s your uber driver.

‘willlllllll….’

‘ugh fine, i’ll give you a lift.’

IN ARGUMENTS…

- you both match eachothers energy, if he’s shouting so are you, if you are calm so is he.

- you both are quite mature when it comes to arguing, it’s always for valid reasons, nothing silly.

‘will, you said you’d come and meet me but didn’t!’

‘i was busy, pet!’

‘well you couldn’t said that, but you didn’t!’

- you guys would probably end up going to sleep and forgetting about the argument by the morning.

- neither of you hold grudges after the fact.

- you end up making jokes out of it, like using what one said against the other person in a jokey style.

- he does petty things in arguments just to piss you off.

‘will! you put my cup on the fucking top shelf!’

‘i know, my love, it’s supposed to be there.’

‘no it isn’t, get it down.’

‘no. not until you say please.’

‘ugh fuck off.’

- if you’re giving him the silent treatment, he’ll most DEFINITELY try and win you over by doing things that drive you crazy (sometimes sexual 😋).

NSFW!!…

- this man is a whore for makeout sessions, the steamy kind.

- his grip on your hips never subsides, he’s obsessed with holding your hips.

- always wants you on top, cowgirl is a go to.

- very dominant but without meaning to be.

‘take your top off. now.’

‘damn. okay.’

‘no, no, no. i didn’t mean to be harsh, pet.’

- you always end up clawing his back up.

- will always end up making you laugh midway through sex.

‘will you can’t make me laugh when i’m about to ride you.’

‘i just did.’

- all he does is smirk.

- you consistently pull his hair and he loves it.

[wowsmutty]

This man

[wowsmutty]

will lenney mirror photos appreciation post ~

ur welcome 💋xx

[wowsmutty]

Let me in

Will Lenney x Reader

Summary: The Reader has had a horrible day, hell a horrible week, they push away Will, and say things that they don't mean. Warnings: Workplace harassment, blood/injury, emotional distress, heated arguments, harsh words. Notes: Based on this ask! Sorry this took so long 🔫 anon! I was crying while writing this 😅

Rain blurred the outline of the building across the street, visible through the small window above your kitchen sink. You’d walked in ten minutes ago, shoes kicked off in the entryway, work blouse still damp from the storm you’d sprinted through. The kitchen smelt faintly of yesterday’s dinner and lemon detergent—a familiar, neutral scent you’d sought out instinctively, dumping your bag on the side of the sofa and then walking over to the sink.

You jammed the rubber plug into the sink drain with more force than necessary, twisting it until the suction made your palm ache. The tap squealed as you cranked it to full heat, steam billowing up in a cloud that fogged the window above the counter. A stream of dish soap splattered into the rising water, its sharp lemon scent clashing with the damp wool smell of your sleeves.

You didn’t wait for the sink to fill.

Hands plunged into the scalding suds first, fingers splayed, before the water even covered the stacked plates. The heat hit your skin like a welt—then the soap found the scrape.

It was a small injury, just a ragged line across your left knuckle. You’d barely noticed it at the station. But now, the chemicals seared into the broken skin, a white-hot lance that made your breath hitch. The plate slipped from your grip, clattering against the sink’s stainless steel.

Clack.

The shove came from behind—a sharp, sudden weight slamming into your shoulder blade. You staggered forward, the phone slipping from your grip as your arm swung out instinctively for balance. The momentum sent it skidding across the station floor, vanishing beneath a forest of shuffling shoes. You lunged, knees hitting concrete, fingers clawing for the cracked screen. A briefcase swung low over your head. “Move it,” someone barked, the edge grazing your ear as you ducked.

You grabbed the phone and shoved upright, your palm stinging from the pavement. The crowd surged around you, a blur of suits and raincoats. And there she was—your coworker—already three strides past the turnstile. She glanced back, shoulder angled toward the exit, her smirk sharp under the station’s flickering lights. Of course. Ever since you’d filed the HR report about her “jokes” that weren’t jokes, the printer “malfunctions” that deleted your files, and the coffee cup that mysteriously spilt on your presentation notes, it had all escalated—in petty, deniable ways. More eyes rolled in meetings when you spoke. More documents “lost” from shared drives. And now this: a shove disguised as a commuter’s jostle, her face a mask of plausible innocence if challenged.

She lingered just long enough for your eyes to lock, her smirk deepening. Then she melted into the crowd, her earring glinting once—a tiny silver middle finger. Your throat tightened. HR had warned you about “lack of evidence”. Your phone’s cracked screen bit into your palm, sticky with blood from your split knuckle. The crowd swallowed her, but her laugh seemed to hang in the air, tinny and bright, like the chime of her desk notification alerts that always seemed to drown out your voice.

Now, your hand hung frozen in the sink, suds dripping. A thread of blood unspooled from your knuckle, dissolving in the water. The dish soap’s lemon smell turned cloying, indistinguishable from the station’s sour mix of wet asphalt and pretzel cart grease.

You shut your eyes. The plate lay submerged, forgotten. The water cooled around your wrists, but the scrape kept burning, a live wire threading straight back to the fluorescent glare of the station, the fractured screen, her laugh carried off by the arriving train’s roar.

The flat door clicked open. You didn’t turn, but the draft from the hallway prickled the damp fabric clinging to your arms. Will’s keys jangled into the ceramic bowl by the door, followed by the crinkle of a takeout bag. “Hey,” he said, his voice soft, as if testing the air. “Got the dumplings. Extra chilli oil, like you—”

You plunged your hands back into the water, scrubbing the plate’s edge, where a fleck of dried egg clung stubbornly. The scrape on your knuckle burnt, but you pressed harder, the sponge’s abrasive side scraping your skin raw. The plate hit the dish rack, droplets scattering across the counter.

Will hovered near the kitchen island. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him unbox the containers, steam rising from the dumplings. His reflection wavered in the fogged window—hesitant, shoulders tense. “You okay?”

“Fine,” you said, reaching for the next plate. The water had cooled to lukewarm, but your hands stayed red, trembling faintly as you scrubbed.

He didn’t push. Instead, he leaned against the counter, chopsticks tapping the edge of a container. “They’re going to get cold,” he tried, nodding at the food.

You didn’t answer. The sponge moved mechanically—scrub, rinse, clatter onto the rack. Another plate. Another fork. The rhythm anchored you, even as your mind flickered back to the station: her smirk, the blood on your phone, the HR rep’s tired sigh. Without concrete proof.

Will’s sigh was quiet, almost lost beneath the rush of the tap. He nudged a dumpling with his chopsticks, the chilli oil pooling like liquid rust. You felt his gaze linger on your hands, on the angry red line across your knuckle, but he said nothing.

The last fork clinked onto the rack. You stared at the empty sink, water swirling down the drain, taking the blood and suds with it. Will’s reflection still waited in the window, blurred and patient, as the rain hissed against the glass.

You felt his gaze linger on your hands, on the angry red line across your knuckle. His reflection in the window shifted—a blur of tousled hair and furrowed brows—as he hovered closer.

The last fork clinked onto the dish rack. You stared at the empty sink, water swirling down the drain, taking the blood and suds with it. The scrape on your knuckle throbbed.

“‘Fine,’” he repeated, your own word sharpened by air quotes. His voice frayed, cracking like old leather. “You’re clearly not fine. Let me hel—”

“Stop.” You didn’t turn around, gripping the edge of the sink. “Just stop.”

“Stop what? Asking?” His chair scraped back as he stood. “You’ve been a ghost for days. You won’t eat, you won’t sleep—hell, you’re bleeding—”

“It’s a scratch.”

“Bullshit. Look at me.”

You didn’t. The dish towel in your hands twisted, wringing out phantom water.

“Is this about work again?” He stepped closer, his shadow stretching across the counter. “Did something else happen?”

“No.”

“Then why are you scrubbing the sink raw at midnight? Why’s your hand bleeding?”

Your shoulders stiffened. “I scraped it.”

“On what? A cheese grater?” His laugh frayed at the edges. “You’ve been distracted all week. You won’t even look at me—”

The towel snapped against the counter as you whipped around. “What do you want from me, Will? A play-by-play of how she’s winning? How every time I think I’ve got proof, it’s ‘not enough’? Or maybe you want to hear how I let her shove me today because I’m too fucking tired to fight back?”

He blinked, recoiling. “Let her—? Jesus, that’s not what I—”

“You think I don’t see your face when I vent? That look—like I’m some chore. ‘Here we go again, the broken record.’” Your voice pitched higher, mocking. “I don’t want to be like this. But you don’t get to cherry-pick when to care.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not fair, I do care. I’ve stayed up every night this week listening, bringing you food, trying—but you’re not here. You’re just shutting me out.”

“Oh, sorry my misery isn’t entertaining enough for you.” You slammed a hand on the counter, the plate rattling in the rack. “Maybe I should’ve faked a smile, huh? Pretended everything’s fine so you don’t have to feel awkward?”

He stared at you, silent for a beat too long. Then his face did something awful—a flicker of raw hurt, his eyes bright with something too close to tears—before he swallowed it down. His voice steadied, but the cracks showed. “I’m going to walk away now. Because I recognise you’re upset and lashing out.” A pause, his gaze dropping to the bloody knuckle you’d tried to hide. “I’ll leave before you say something you don’t mean—something I won’t forget.”

You opened your mouth, a sharp inhale cutting through the silence—'Wait'—but the word died in your throat. He was already turning, shoulders hunched, one hand absently rubbing at his sternum like he could massage the ache out.

“Will—”

He paused at the hallway, his profile haloed by the dim kitchen light. For a heartbeat, you saw it: the way his jaw trembled before he clenched it, the sheen in his eyes he’d blame on exhaustion later. But he didn’t look back.

The bedroom door clicked shut.

You stood there, the cold edge of the counter digging into your hip, your knuckle throbbing in time with your pulse. The dumplings sat untouched—mostly. Will’s chopsticks lay askew on the counter, one dumpling missing from the container. A single bite taken, chilli oil smeared on the corner of the box like a half-hearted attempt to share the meal.

You stared at the lone dumpling he’d left behind, its pleated edge torn raggedly, steam long gone. He’d always eaten slowly, savouring each bite, but tonight he’d barely chewed before the fight erupted. You could picture it—him forcing a swallow, chopsticks hovering over the container as he debated offering you one last olive branch before you shut him down.

Your throat tightened. Even in the middle of this, he’d tried. Always tried. And you’d—

A faint smear of chilli oil glistened on the counter where his sleeve had brushed it. You pressed your palm over the stain, as if you could absorb the ghost of his presence there, but the heat had already faded. The bedroom door loomed at the edge of your vision, shut fast.

Your stomach sank. You’d made sure he wouldn’t try again tonight.

You slid to the floor, knees drawn to your chest. The flat hummed with silence, broken only by rain tapping the window. Back. Off. The words ricocheted in your skull, each repetition punctuated by the memory of Will’s face—the way his smile had died mid-sentence when he’d walked in, the takeout bag still dangling from his hand.

He’d remembered.

A muffled clink came from the bedroom—a drawer closing, perhaps, or a belt buckle dropped onto the dresser. Your throat tightened. He’d left the dumplings here. Uneaten.

The bedroom light flicked off. Shadows swallowed the hallway, inch by inch, until the flat felt hollowed out. Somewhere in that void, he was lying awake. You knew the exact sound of his breath when he fought sleep—the soft, uneven hitch, the way he’d turn his face into the pillow to muffle it. You’d memorised it once, tracing his ribs in the dark, counting each exhale like a prayer. Now, the silence between you was a living thing, gnawing at the walls.

You weren’t just losing the fight with her. And him. You were becoming her—all jagged edges and calculated cruelty. Letting her venom rot the one thing you’d sworn to protect.

The shadows stretched longer.

You didn’t move.

An hour later, you knocked, the sound feather-light. Too quiet. Your bruised knuckle stung as you rapped again, the pain sharpening your focus. “Will?” Your voice wavered. “Can I—” Breathe. “—come in?”

Silence.

You pressed your forehead to the door frame, the wood cool against your flushed skin. The memory of his flinch earlier—your words causing it—flashed behind your eyelids. When you nudged the door open, the hinge groaned like a reproach.

He lay on his side, facing the wall, the blanket pulled taut over his shoulders. The lamp on his nightstand cast a dim halo, illuminating the rigid line of his spine beneath his thin cotton shirt. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, fingers digging into his biceps as if physically restraining himself.

You hovered in the doorway, the chill from the kitchen seeping into your socks. Your reflection ghosted in the dresser mirror—hair tangled, eyes swollen, sleeves still damp from dishwater. Pathetic. A stranger.

“I didn’t mean it,” you whispered.

“Which part?” His voice was gravelly, stripped bare. “The ‘broken record’ bit? Or telling me to back off like I’m some stranger?”

You flinched. The words had tasted rancid even as you’d spat them, but hearing them echoed back—worse. You perched on the edge of the mattress, the springs groaning. His scent enveloped you—laundry detergent, faint citrus, and the metallic tang of rain still trapped in his shirt fibres.

“All of it”, you said. “I’m sorry.”

He shifted, finally turning. Shadows pooled under his eyes, deeper than you’d realised. “You scared me,” he said quietly. “Not because you snapped. Because I could see you vanishing. Like you were building a wall brick by brick, and I couldn’t—” His throat bobbed. “I couldn’t find the ladder.”

Your fingers brushed his wrist, tentative. He didn’t pull away.

“I kept waiting for you to stop trying,” you admitted, the confession clawing up your throat. “To finally… see me. The messy, angry parts. And walk away.” It was still silent.

“I hate that I did this,” you said, louder now, your voice splintering. “That I turned into her. That I hurt you to make the other pain smaller.”

Your hand hovered over his shoulder, close enough to feel the heat of him, but not daring to touch. The scar on your knuckle throbbed, a fresh bead of blood welling where you’d picked at it.

You stared at the frayed edge of the blanket, your voice raw. “I kept waiting for you to stop trying. To look at me—really look—and see how broken I’ve become. The anger, the paranoia, the way I flinch at Teams notifications. I thought you’d finally realise I’m not worth the fight and walk away.”

His shoulders tensed, the fabric of his shirt pulling taut.

“But you didn’t.” The words tore free, jagged. “You stayed. And now I have to,” Your throat closed. Deserve it. Be better. Fix what I’ve cracked.

Silence thickened.

You pressed your palm to your sternum, as if you could claw the shame out. “And I kept pushing you because—” A tear slid down your nose, splattering onto the blanket. “Because if you saw how deep this rot goes, you’d leave. And I’d deserve that, too.”

His exhale shuddered, uneven. “Try me.”

You hesitated. The admission lodged in your throat, sharp as glass.

His hand found yours, calloused fingers skimming the split skin of your knuckle—a wound you’d reopened earlier, digging at it like a punishment. “Tell me,” he murmured, thumb brushing your pulse point.

The dam cracked. “It’s her. This job. Every day, she—” You choked, your free hand clenching the blanket. "She whittles me down. A comment in meetings. A ‘lost’ file. A laugh when I walk by. And I let her. Because if I react, HR says I’m ‘too emotional’. If I stay quiet, I’m ‘not a team player’. It’s a game she can’t lose, and I” you exhale, “I’m letting her turn me into this.” You gestured wildly at yourself, your reflection in the dresser mirror, a stranger with hollowed eyes and a bloodied fist.

He shifted, turning fully toward you. “Then quit.”

You stiffened. “You think I haven’t tried? I’ve applied to twelve jobs this month. Twelve. And every rejection email feels like proof she’s right, that I’m—”

“No.” His voice sharpened, cutting through yours. “You’re not letting her do anything. You’re surviving. That’s not weakness.”

Your breath hitched.

“But this?” He lifted your injured hand, the blood smeared across your knuckle glinting in the lamplight. “Punishing yourself? Pushing me out? That’s letting her win.”

The truth of it lanced through you. You sagged forward, forehead dropping to his shoulder. His arms encircled you, anchoring you as sobs ripped loose—ugly, gasping things that shook your ribs.

“I’m sorry,” you choked into his shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” His palm cradled the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. “But you don’t get to decide what I can handle. Let me in.” He folded himself around you—all steady hands and murmured shhhs and pressed his lips to your temple. The shirt soaked through, but he didn’t seem to care.

When the storm passed, he nudged you upright. “C’mon. Let’s fix the part where you didn’t eat.”

In the kitchen, he reheated the dumplings, steam curling into the air as chilli oil liquefied back into its glossy crimson. You ate shoulder-to-shoulder at the counter, the silence now a balm.

“Next time”, he said, swiping a stray sesame seed from your lip, “say, ‘Will, I’m breaking.’ I’ll shut up and just be here.”

“Even if I’m mean?”

“Especially then.” His thumb brushed your cheekbone, lingering. “Mean’s just scared with its teeth out.”

The bedroom light stayed off. You fell asleep tangled in his arms, his heartbeat a metronome beneath your ear, the rain softening to a whisper.

[wowsmutty]

mustang baby

will lenney x fem reader

summary: you and Will go for a drive in his new car

warning: mature content (18+ only)

masterlist | main masterlist

You could hear it before you could see it. The deep, throaty purr of an engine rolling into the driveway which you assumed was one of the neighbors new car, but when you glance out the front window and spot a gleaming black Mustang pulling in, your heart does a little skip. Will's behind the wheel, grinning like the devil, one hand lazily resting at the top of the steering wheel, the other flicking off the ignition with an unnerving casualness.

You were already opening the front door by the time he stepped out, sunglasses low on his nose, eyes glinting as he watches your reaction.

“You bought a Mustang?”you gaped, taking in the slick curves, the polished chrome, the way it was practically growls even when it’s silent.

Will shrugged, walking around the car to lean against the passenger side, “Thought it was time for something fun.”

“And what am I, chopped liver?”

“You're fun in a different way," he teased with a wink, opening the door for you, "Get in. We’re going for a spin.”

You didn’t hesitate skipping over to the passenger side letting him help you into the car. The leather interior smelt new, the seat hugging your body, and when Will starts it up again, the engine roars to life like it’s alive. He pulls out of the driveway fast, tires skimming the road, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer recklessness of it.

“God, you look hot driving this,” you murmur, resting your hand on his thigh.

Will shot you a glance smirking at your words, “Careful darling, We’ve only just left the neighborhood.”

You smiled leaning back into your seat leaving your hand firmly in its place.

The roads are quieter as he veers onto the outskirts of town, cruising under the late golden sun. One hand of his remained firm on the wheel, but the other slips on top of yours restinf his leg, fingers grazing your knuckles before drifting just a little higher, encouraging.

“You wanna drive?” he asked, eyes still fixed on the road but with a teasing lilt in his voice.

“I’m good right here,” you replied, your voice relaxed now as heat curled in your stomach, “But I do want something else.”

He chuckles, the sound dripping like honey, “Yeah? What’s that?”

You leaned over the center console, lips brushing the edge of his jaw, just enough to make it clench beneath your touch, “Pull over and I’ll show you.”

The brakes are gentle but immediate as he coasts to a quiet stop on a gravel turnout, nothing around but open sky and trees swaying in the breeze. He turned to you, one brow raised, “Well?”

You climbed into his lap before he could finish the thought, straddling him with a sly grin. His hands immediately settle on your hips, grounding you as you rock forward, slow and teasing.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” he breathed, voice already rough.

“You’re the one who bought a car that sounds like sex,” you whisper, lips brushing against his, “Don’t act surprised.”

His hands tightened. The leather seat creaks beneath you both as mouths crashed, all heat and tongue, the car fogging up like some cliché. Your body arching into his as you grinded down, pulling needy gasps from both your throats. Will’s hands traveled beneath your top, thumbs sweeping up your sides, and you gasp against his lips, every nerve standing on edge.

“God, you’re gonna let me ruin you in this car, yeah?” he growled.

You kiss him harder humming against his lips in agreement not wanting to part from him.

The air inside the Mustang is thick with heat and want, your breath coming fast as Will’s hands slide up beneath your top, fingertips grazing your ribs, then higher, thumbs brushing under your bra until you gasp into his mouth.

“Off,” he instructed, voice deep, commanding.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You pulled your top over your head and unclasping your bra, dropping them into the footwell. His eyes wandered over your chest with dark hunger, hands cupping you instantly, thumbs rolling over your nipples until you were writhing in his lap.

“You’re unreal,” he muttered, voice low and wrecked, like he’s holding himself back, “And you’re all mine.”

You moved to grind down again, desperate for friction, but Will grabbed your hips and stopping you.

“Not yet.”

“Will,” you whimpered, clutching at his shoulders, but he only smirked and leaninh in, mouth hot and possessive as he sucked one nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to make your back arch. He switches sides without pause, and by the time he finally lets go, you're panting, dizzy with need.

He reached between you, palm brushing down your stomach to the button of your jeans. He popped it open with one hand like it was nothing before shovinh your jeans and underwear down in one rough tug, leaving you bare in his lap, thighs spread across him, dripping for him.

“You're already soaked,” he murmured, dragging two fingers through your folds, “Fucking hell, love.”

You cried out when he rubs your clit, dropping your head to his shoulder as he rubbed slow and deliberate circles onto the bundle of nerves, his fingers teasing everywhere except where you need them most.

“Need you,” you managed to breathe out between broken moans, rocking into his hand, nails digging into his shoulders, “Will, please.”

“Tell me what you want,” he growled, his fingers circling your entrance, slowly sliding in two at once, deep thrusting just right.

“Want you inside me,” you gasped out, “Need your cock, Will, please.”

“Good girl.”

He lifted you off him for a moment, just long enough to shove his own jeans down to his thighs, his cock hard and flushed against his stomach the tip glistening. You reached for it on instinct, but he grabbed your wrist and pinning it behind your back.

“Let me,” he muttered, voice cracking with restraint.

He lined himself up pulling you down slow, inch by inch, until you were full, stretching around him, the pressure sending shockwaves through your whole body. You cried out clinging onto him, and he swallowed the sound with a rough, possessive kiss.

“That’s it,” he groaned against your lips, gripping your hips tight, “Take it all, baby.”

Then he started a rhythm. His hands guiding your body to bounce on his lap in rough and deep motions making the whole car rock. Your thighs were shaking within seconds, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his shoulders as he pounds up into you relentlessly.

The windows now completely fogged, the steam radiating from your bodies curling on the glass, sweat slicking your skin as the Mustang fills with the filthy sound of skin on skin, your gasps, his rough and low praises.

“You’re so tight,” he gritted out through his teeth, “Fucking perfect.”

You were close and Will knew it, the way you tightened around him squeezing with every bounce. His thumb found your clit, circling fast, and you shatter with a scream, walls pulsing around him, body jerking in his grip as your orgasm crashes through you.

Will wasn’t far behind. He let go of every last ounce of control, slamming up into you with a strangled groan before spilling inside you, heat flooding you as he held you down on him, breath ragged.

For a moment, you both just breathed still tangled and blissfully spent.

Then he dropped his forehead against yours, eyes still dark but soft now.

“Best car I’ve ever bought,” he said with a lazy grin.

You laughed breathlessly, pressing a kiss to his mouth, “I agree.”

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[wowsmutty]

going on a night out with George and him having to look after you and carry you home because you drank to much

contains: established relationship, intoxication, drinking

george clarke x fem!reader

it started off fine. better than fine, actually.

arthur hill’s birthday party was already in full swing by the time you and george arrived—music thumping, drinks flowing, everyone already two pints deep and shouting across the room. you stuck close to george at first, fingers laced together, laughing as arthur wrapped you both in a massive, drunken hug.

"drink with me!" arthur shouted, handing you something suspiciously neon in a plastic cup.

and you did. and then you drank another. and then another.

george was laughing, letting you spin him around on the dance floor, but he kept a close eye on you the whole time. he noticed when your steps got wobblier, when your words started slurring at the edges. he swapped your next drink for water without you even realizing.

still, by midnight, you were absolutely gone—clinging to george’s jacket, giggling into his chest, barely able to keep your eyes open.

"alright, that’s us done," george said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. he ignored the teasing shouts from arthur and the others as he carefully guided you out of the party, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist.

you whined, clinging to george’s jacket. "but i’m fineee," you insisted, voice all slurred and stubborn.

george just chuckled under his breath, hooking his arm under your legs and lifting you up like you weighed nothing at all. you squealed in surprise, then immediately relaxed against him, head dropping to his shoulder.

"you’re not walkin’ anywhere," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

the cold night air hit you the second george stepped outside. you shivered, burrowing closer into him, and george adjusted you easily in his arms, pulling your jacket tighter around you. he started the walk home, ignoring the drunken cheers from inside the party. you mumbled against his neck the whole way—half nonsense, half sleepy little confessions about how much you loved him.

"georgie," you slurred, voice muffled. "mhm?" he huffed, shifting you a little higher as he crossed the quiet street. "you’re so strong. and handsome. and nice."

george let out a low laugh, the sound warm against the chilly night. "you’re a nightmare," he teased softly. "but you’re my nightmare."

he carried you the whole way—through the winding london streets, past the late-night kebab shops, through your front door, and up the stairs without ever setting you down. inside, he knelt carefully to help you out of your boots, tugged you into one of his hoodies, and got you into bed with a tenderness that made your chest ache even through the haze of sleep.

"george," you whispered, already half gone. "i’m here, love," he said, brushing your hair back.

you fell asleep to the feeling of his lips against your forehead and his hand wrapped safely around yours—still holding you, even then.

[wowsmutty]

Playing Dangerous

george clarke x reader 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗦, g. clarke: you and your boyfriend getting ready with matching costumes for the halloween party. ( fluff; established relationship; dirty jokes; suggestive/vulgar language )

The faint sound of Lana Del Rey hums from your phone, creating the perfect getting ready atmosphere. You smile at yourself in the mirror as you press your lips together, spreading the gloss around. You tried a new lip combo for tonight; darker than usual, a mauve color, and became promptly obsessed. You could hear George shuffling around in the bathroom and since you were dressed and finished with your makeup, you decided to join him.

Knocking twice, you pushed the door open, leaning against the doorframe for a moment. George stood in front of the mirror, his hands tangled in his curls, wearing nothing but a white tank-top tucked into his dark cargo trousers. He looked amazing and you took your time admiring your lovely boyfriend━the way his biceps flexed with each movement, the way his fingers moved deftly through his curls.

"Wow, officer." You practically purr, stepping into the bathroom.

George turns to you, meeting you eyes in the mirror with his familiar, easy-going smile.

"See something you like?" He teases, arms gesturing to himself as he twists his hips, mimicking a dance.

You step further into his space, dragging your nails up his arm. He turns into you, angling his chin downwards to look at you. You look up, catching his eye with a sly smirk.

You let your hand trail up his arm, your other hand moves down, pulling him in by the belt loop of his trousers.

"Oh absolutely." You grin, pressing your body to his. "Your ass looks fantastic in those cargos."

His face lights up a soft pink as his hands move to rest on your waist, still not used to your brazen flirting. George brings one hand up, brushing a piece of your hair back behind your ear. His soft-blue eyes search your face━for what, you're not sure. It's a habit he's had since even before the two of you got together, his eyes always seemed to be looking into the softest, least-noticeable parts of you, always searching for what you don't show most people.

"You are so gorgeous."

He says it with a tone that makes you believe him. His voice is smooth and soft, saying it like it's the easiest thing ever. As if it's some undeniable truth. It makes you melt.

You smile, tilting your head back to hide your blush. You force out a groan, meeting his eyes with a cheeky smile.

"You make me sound like a perv." You complain, no real bite behind your words. "You call me gorgeous and I compliment your ass."

"It's why we work." He grins, his thumbs tracing circles into your waist. "Besides," he relents, moving his hands down to palm your ass, "yours is pretty fantastic as well."

You laugh, instinctively leaning into George moving your arms to wind around his neck. He leans down, softly pressing his lips to yours. His hand comes up to cup your face, tilting your chin up with his thumb, deepening the kiss. The kiss tastes like a mix of your lipgloss, George's mint toothpaste, and sweet chapstick that you know he stole from you at one point or another.

Your eyes flutter open as you pull back, your breath still mingling together as neither of you want to pull too far. George's lips shine with residue from your gloss, the mauve color painting his own lips and skin. You bite your lip to hide your giggle, using one hand to try and wipe it off.

George doesn't seem to mind, swerving your hand and leaning down to press his lips to your neck. His touch is warm and steadying, one hand on your waist and the other tilting your head to get as much access as possible. 

"George..." You whisper, your hands pushing lightly against his chest. "You have to finish getting ready."

He doesn't seem to find the same urgency as you, twisting the two of you so that you're pressed against the counter. George pulls back, his blue eyes clouded by ardor. He presses his forehead to yours with a cheeky smile.

"I can think of some things that I'd much rather enjoy than going to that party." His voice is low, hands palming your waist in an attempt to persuade you.

"We'll have plenty of time after..." You grin, jumping up onto the counter.

Sitting on the counter you reach back behind you, grabbing the curl styling product you'd somehow forced into his hair routine. George leans easily into your touch as you go about styling his mullet, his hands resting on the counter by your hips.

He lets the moment settle between the two of you, the soft hum of your phone playing music in the other room and the soft warm lights of the bathroom bathing the two of you in an aureate glow. George loves moments like this. The comfortable quiet. It allows him to notice everything about you; the concentrated furrow of your brow, the freckles dotting your nose, the curve of your lips. His hands begin to subconsciously trace patterns against your thighs, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thick fabric of your trousers.

 Your mouth twitches into a small smile as he leans forward━slowly, almost imperceptibly.

“What are you doing?” 

“Just admiring my girl.” He accentuates his sentence with a squeeze of your thigh.

George continues to lean in slowly, painfully slow. You can feel every breath you take, every beat of your heart, practically buzzing with anticipation. His lips connect to your neck and you can almost sigh in relief. You hum as his teeth graze your neck, easily finding that spot that makes you squirm. 

Soft sighs fell from your lips as one of George’s hands trailed up to your inner thigh, his other hand sliding up your side and cupping the underside of your breast. Your hands curl into his hair, tugging softly to pull him impossibly closer.

“Maybe… fuck…” Your voice fell into a moan. “Nobody will miss us in the first hour, right?”

George pulled away, meeting your eyes with an excited grin. His hands slide under your thighs, hoisting you up and carrying you into the bedroom.

[wowsmutty]

Playing Dangerous

george clarke x reader 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗦, g. clarke: you and your boyfriend getting ready with matching costumes for the halloween party. ( fluff; established relationship; dirty jokes; suggestive/vulgar language )

The faint sound of Lana Del Rey hums from your phone, creating the perfect getting ready atmosphere. You smile at yourself in the mirror as you press your lips together, spreading the gloss around. You tried a new lip combo for tonight; darker than usual, a mauve color, and became promptly obsessed. You could hear George shuffling around in the bathroom and since you were dressed and finished with your makeup, you decided to join him.

Knocking twice, you pushed the door open, leaning against the doorframe for a moment. George stood in front of the mirror, his hands tangled in his curls, wearing nothing but a white tank-top tucked into his dark cargo trousers. He looked amazing and you took your time admiring your lovely boyfriend━the way his biceps flexed with each movement, the way his fingers moved deftly through his curls.

"Wow, officer." You practically purr, stepping into the bathroom.

George turns to you, meeting you eyes in the mirror with his familiar, easy-going smile.

"See something you like?" He teases, arms gesturing to himself as he twists his hips, mimicking a dance.

You step further into his space, dragging your nails up his arm. He turns into you, angling his chin downwards to look at you. You look up, catching his eye with a sly smirk.

You let your hand trail up his arm, your other hand moves down, pulling him in by the belt loop of his trousers.

"Oh absolutely." You grin, pressing your body to his. "Your ass looks fantastic in those cargos."

His face lights up a soft pink as his hands move to rest on your waist, still not used to your brazen flirting. George brings one hand up, brushing a piece of your hair back behind your ear. His soft-blue eyes search your face━for what, you're not sure. It's a habit he's had since even before the two of you got together, his eyes always seemed to be looking into the softest, least-noticeable parts of you, always searching for what you don't show most people.

"You are so gorgeous."

He says it with a tone that makes you believe him. His voice is smooth and soft, saying it like it's the easiest thing ever. As if it's some undeniable truth. It makes you melt.

You smile, tilting your head back to hide your blush. You force out a groan, meeting his eyes with a cheeky smile.

"You make me sound like a perv." You complain, no real bite behind your words. "You call me gorgeous and I compliment your ass."

"It's why we work." He grins, his thumbs tracing circles into your waist. "Besides," he relents, moving his hands down to palm your ass, "yours is pretty fantastic as well."

You laugh, instinctively leaning into George moving your arms to wind around his neck. He leans down, softly pressing his lips to yours. His hand comes up to cup your face, tilting your chin up with his thumb, deepening the kiss. The kiss tastes like a mix of your lipgloss, George's mint toothpaste, and sweet chapstick that you know he stole from you at one point or another.

Your eyes flutter open as you pull back, your breath still mingling together as neither of you want to pull too far. George's lips shine with residue from your gloss, the mauve color painting his own lips and skin. You bite your lip to hide your giggle, using one hand to try and wipe it off.

George doesn't seem to mind, swerving your hand and leaning down to press his lips to your neck. His touch is warm and steadying, one hand on your waist and the other tilting your head to get as much access as possible. 

"George..." You whisper, your hands pushing lightly against his chest. "You have to finish getting ready."

He doesn't seem to find the same urgency as you, twisting the two of you so that you're pressed against the counter. George pulls back, his blue eyes clouded by ardor. He presses his forehead to yours with a cheeky smile.

"I can think of some things that I'd much rather enjoy than going to that party." His voice is low, hands palming your waist in an attempt to persuade you.

"We'll have plenty of time after..." You grin, jumping up onto the counter.

Sitting on the counter you reach back behind you, grabbing the curl styling product you'd somehow forced into his hair routine. George leans easily into your touch as you go about styling his mullet, his hands resting on the counter by your hips.

He lets the moment settle between the two of you, the soft hum of your phone playing music in the other room and the soft warm lights of the bathroom bathing the two of you in an aureate glow. George loves moments like this. The comfortable quiet. It allows him to notice everything about you; the concentrated furrow of your brow, the freckles dotting your nose, the curve of your lips. His hands begin to subconsciously trace patterns against your thighs, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thick fabric of your trousers.

 Your mouth twitches into a small smile as he leans forward━slowly, almost imperceptibly.

“What are you doing?” 

“Just admiring my girl.” He accentuates his sentence with a squeeze of your thigh.

George continues to lean in slowly, painfully slow. You can feel every breath you take, every beat of your heart, practically buzzing with anticipation. His lips connect to your neck and you can almost sigh in relief. You hum as his teeth graze your neck, easily finding that spot that makes you squirm. 

Soft sighs fell from your lips as one of George’s hands trailed up to your inner thigh, his other hand sliding up your side and cupping the underside of your breast. Your hands curl into his hair, tugging softly to pull him impossibly closer.

“Maybe… fuck…” Your voice fell into a moan. “Nobody will miss us in the first hour, right?”

George pulled away, meeting your eyes with an excited grin. His hands slide under your thighs, hoisting you up and carrying you into the bedroom.

[wowsmutty]

Honeyed Edges

Will Lenney x Fem!Reader

Summary: Will accidentally discovers one of the Reader's kink, the two then talk about their own kinks and what they like. Warnings: Sexual themes (talks of edging, praise kink, "good girl" dynamics, face sitting, and pet names) Notes: Based on this ask! Side note I got carried away sorry

“You’re doing amazing, princess.”

The voice purring through the phone’s speakers is liquid heat, velvet and honey dripping into your ears until it pools low in your belly, molten and insistent. Your breath hitches as it coils tighter, sharper—a serpent of want twisting beneath your skin.

“Good. Now, stop.”

The command slices through the fog of arousal, and your fingers jerk away from yourself as if burnt, nails digging into your thigh. Denied, your clit throbs in protest, a pulse so raw it radiates up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You bite down on your lip hard, but a whimper escapes anyway—thin, desperate—as your hips arch off the bed, betraying you.

The air feels too thick, too hot. Every brush of fabric against your nipples is torture, the peaks stiff and oversensitive beneath your shirt, aching for friction you can’t give them. You hear yourself—shaky exhales, bitten-off pleas—but the instructor’s calm, smoky tone drowns it all out.

“You can be patient.”

Their words stroke the shell of your ear, deliberate, maddening, and your thighs tremble, slickness pooling as your body rebels. You feel every heartbeat between your legs, a relentless rhythm that tightens your chest and steals your breath.

“Imagine how good you’ll feel.”

The promise winds through you like a vine, thorned and sweet. Your back bows, a silent plea, as heat licks up your throat. You’re hyperaware now—the creak of the bed and the static hum of the speakers. Your skin prickles, electricity skittering where you almost touched, and your clit throbs, swollen and neglected. You whine, high and thready, fingers clawing the sheets. The voice over the recording tsks, a low vibration that jolts straight to your core.

“Shhh. You’ll thank me later.”

But now is an eternity. Every second stretches, taut as a wire, your body a live nerve—nipples pebbled, stomach clenched, thighs slick and shaking. You’re raw, exposed, hungry, every sound you make is a confession. And still, that voice holds you suspended—cruel, kind, inescapable—until even the air feels like a caress you don’t deserve.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Now, circle your clit again. Slowly.”

The voice’s command is a brand, searing and sweet—your trembling fingertip hovers, aching to obey—when the bedroom door slam open.

“Hey, I brought—” Will freezes.

You scramble to pause the audio, the phone clatters to the floor, the voice still crooning “—slowly, sweetheart—” as you scramble backward, sheets tangling your legs, hands frantically yanking your shirt further down. Your pulse is a trapped bird, thrashing in your throat. Will’s eyes dart from your flushed face to the phone, its audio dripping honeyed filth into the silence.

“I—it’s not,” Your voice cracks. He knows. He's seen. The fantasy that felt so safe in the dark now writhes naked under the bedroom light, grotesque and shameful. You watch his face—his kind face, the one that brings you coffee and kisses your forehead to show his love—twist with confusion.

“Are you okay?” He steps forward, brow furrowed, and you flinch.

Pathetic. Weird. Too much. The words you’ve heard from your past relationship surged up like bile. You clutch a pillow to your chest, tears scalding your lashes. “Please don’t—I’m sorry, pretend you didn't see this, I just—”

“Hey. Hey.” His voice softens, knees hitting the mattress as he reaches for you—then stops, hand suspended. Always asking. Always careful. The gentleness undoes you.

“You must hate me.”

“What? No, I—” His thumb brushes your cheek, catching a tear. “You’re shaking.”

The phone’s voice cuts through, sharp as a blade: “Don’t you dare stop.” He reaches down to it, pauses, stares at the title, then looks back to you. You brace for disgust, retreat—but his thumb still reaches for you and strokes your cheekbone. “Is this something you like?”

The question lingers, sharp as a held breath. Your eyes flicker shut—not to hide, but to stall. A faltering half-nod betrays you, shoulders lifting in a shrug that’s more crumple than defiance, as if your body can’t decide between folding inward or fleeing. "I thought you’d say it was” A pause, a tremor in your throat. “twisted.” The word escapes like a confession, quieter than a whisper.

A beat. Then his exhale ghosts over your lips, trembling with something like awe. “You’re magnificent.”

Your eyes fly open.

Will's face was so close to yours. He’s blushing, gaze molten but steady. “All this time, and you’re still… Christ, you’re dripping.” His hands slink past the duvet slowly until his palm skims your thigh—not grabbing, just offering. The moan you choke back shakes your entire body. “Let me,” he murmurs, voice rougher than you’ve ever heard it. “Talk to me. Let me take care of you. Let me know what you want. However you want.”

His palm lingers on your thigh, a question without pressure. You swallow, throat still tight with the aftershocks of panic—but beneath that, a flicker of hunger stirs. Trust him, it whispers. Let him see.

“You… want to talk about it?” Your voice is threadbare, fraying at the edges—a laugh strangled by terror.

Will’s thumb drags a slow, deliberate arc over your wrist, calloused and steady, like he’s mapping a pulse point to tether you here. “Yeah. If you’re ready.” His gaze sharpens, the usual mischief tempered by something darker, hungrier. The smirk that follows is all teeth. “But fair warning—I’m taking notes from that audio.” His voice drops, velvet and venom. “‘Princess.’ ‘Sweetheart.’ Fuck, the way you whined."

You huff, swatting at him, but heat floods your veins, traitorous and electric. “You’re mocking me.”

“Never.” He crowds closer, his breath searing your ear. “I’m volunteering. No more strangers. If someone’s going to unravel you—” His lips graze your jaw. “—it’s me.” The vow thrums through you, a live wire coiled tight in your gut.

“Okay,” you whisper, the word trembling. “But lets talk.”

“Talk”, he echoes, pulling back just enough to let you see the storm in his eyes—all intensity now, though his thumb hasn’t stopped its hypnotic sweep across your skin.

You bite your lip hard enough to sting. “I liked the edging. The denial. The way they talked. But it was easier with a stranger. No eyes on me. No shame.”

Will goes still. “I’m not him,” he grits out, jaw taut as a bowstring. “The prick who made you feel like a goddamn burden.” His grip tightens, not harsh but present. “Try. Me.”

“I know.” The challenge hangs, razor-edged. You inhale, sharp and shallow. “I want you to command me. Just like the audio. Call me those names—mean them. Tease me until I’m shaking. And stop me. Over. And over. Until I forget how to breathe.”

A low groan tears from his throat, feral and stripped bare. “Fuck. Yes.” His fingers drag through your hair, calloused but tender, tilting your gaze to meet his. The intensity in his eyes pins you—a predator’s focus, softened at the edges. “But you safeword the second it’s too much. Red stops everything. Always.”

“Always,” you agree, the vow trembling like a moth trapped in your ribs—delicate, frantic, alive.

His grin returns, all teeth. “Glad we agree. My turn.” His palm glides up your thigh, slowly, igniting a trail of fire. “I want you to sit on my face.”

Your pulse stammers, cheeks blazing. “Will—”

“Negotiating,” he reminds you, thumb brushing the hinge of your jaw. Innocent tone, wolfish eyes. “Hear me out. You like orders? Fine. But sometimes” His grip tightens on your thigh, blunt nails biting just shy of pain. “I want you to take what you need. No asking. No please.” Your breath hitches as he leans closer, voice gravel and velvet. “Just use me. Ruin yourself on me.”

A fractured noise escapes you. “That’s not a deal—that’s a daydream.”

“So?” His smirk sharpens. “We’re negotiating, remember?”

You gnaw your lip, blood roaring in your ears. “What if." You start, pausing then starting again, trying to get the words out, "I wanted to.” The confession lodges, thick and suffocating.

Will’s thumb swipes your lower lip, freeing it from your teeth. “Breathe, sweetheart. No wrong questions or answers.”

“What if I… tied you down?” The words spill in a rush, barely audible. “Made you beg while I…?”

A sharp, ragged inhale. His pupils eclipse the blue, dark as a starless sky. For a heartbeat, he’s utterly still—then a laugh rumbles deep in his chest, edged with desperation. “Christ. Yes.”

“But… you have to say things. Dirty, sweet, everything.” The demand spills from you too fast, like a secret you’ve been clenching between your teeth. Your pulse thrums where his thumb traces idle circles on your upper thigh, his touch featherlight yet searing.

He stills, and for a heartbeat, the room feels airless. Then his lips curve—slow, wolfish—as his fingers skate higher, skimming the exposed skin. “Deal.” The word is velvet wrapped around steel. His palm settles possessively against your upper thigh, calluses catching on the softness there, dangerously close to your core. “But I want to watch you. Really watch you. When you listen to those audios.” His breath ghosts hot over your jaw. “Let me see what it does to you. How your breath shakes. How you squirm. How fucking bad you need it.”

Your lungs stutter. The image flares between you, vivid as a struck match: his gaze pinned on you, dark and unblinking, while someone else’s voice coils through the speakers. A stranger’s words stoking the heat low in your belly and him, always him, waiting to claim what they’ve kindled. “You’d like that?” you whisper, already knowing the answer.

“Love it.” His voice cracks like a whip, rough and hungry. “Knowing you’re aching… soaking through your pretty little panties… all worked up just from a voice, a few filthy words—” His teeth graze your earlobe, biting down just enough to steal your breath. “But I’m the one who finishes what they start. Who ruins you. Who makes you scream. That clear?”

“Sadist”, you choke out, the insult trembling into a shaky laugh.

“Your sadist,” he corrected you with a bruising kiss to the hinge of your jaw. His free hand fists in your hair, tilting your head back until all you see is him: eyes black as sin, mouth curved in a smirk that’s equal parts promise and punishment. “And you’re my greedy little princess. Mine to wreck. Mine to put back together. Are we clear?”

You nod, dizzy, the room tilting gently as his scent—warm cologne, salt, and something indefinably him—wraps around you like a balm. His hand shifts, not to tighten, but to cradle the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing soft circles against your cheek. The earlier intensity in his eyes softens, replaced by a quiet heat that feels like sunlight through glass.

“Words, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet rasp. His other hand sweeps through your hair, not to tug, but to soothe, fingertips tracing the shell of your ear in a way that makes your knees tremble. “I need to hear you.”

“Yes,” you breathe, leaning into his palm, your body instinctively arching toward him—not in desperation, but in trust. The space between you hums with a current of want, but his touch remains patient, grounding. “But wait. One more thing.”

He stills, his gaze locking onto yours. There’s no impatience there, only curiosity, his thumb pausing mid-caress to press gently against your bottom lip. “Always so many terms, love,” he teases, but his tone is warm, fond. “Name it.”

You swallow, your bravado fracturing for a heartbeat. “I know I’m vocal.” A blush scalds your cheeks, but you hold his gaze, determined. “But you have to be too. No stoic, silent Will. Not tonight or any other night.” Your fingers trail down his chest, nails scraping lightly. “I want the moans. The ‘good girls’. The filth. I want” You hesitate, vulnerability bleeding into the plea. "to know it wrecks you too.”

For a moment, he’s statue-still. Then a low, dangerous laugh escapes him, all heat and honey. “Careful,” he murmurs, dragging his nose along the column of your throat. “You keep making demands, princess, and I might think you’re the one in charge here.” His lips hover over yours, a hair's breadth away. “But fine. You want me to be vocal? I’ll give you every goddamn sound.” His thumb swipes the seam of your mouth. “Just remember—you asked for this.”

Hi, so I think I need to sit outside and touch some grass. This was a bit more spicy than I originally intended, and the negotiation isn't as well fleshed out as I'd like it to be, but ah well 😅 I hope you liked it anon!

[wowsmutty]

making the bed

will lenney x fem reader

summary: in the two years of dating, you and will had never had a serious argument but when everything starts to pile on top of you both it was bound to happen.

masterlist | main masterlist

The entirety of the flat felt like one big bubble of building resentment and bitterness over the past week, and it was beginning to eat at you. The snide comments that were wrapped in humour, the unnecessary passive-aggressive texts that were being left on left on read. Long pauses that were once filled with adoring glancing and soft touches now left hanging, empty.

You had know from the first comment made over a petty thing that something was brewing. But neither of you pulled the brakes. Neither of you wanted to speak about afraid of the answer, petrified that it would be the end of you. So, you stayed quite.

It was Friday night and you and Will were meant to go to a launch party - some influencer event that Will had been invited to, which always meant that you’d tag along. You had originally planned to skip it, needing a night in, but Will had asked, just come for a bit, and you reluctantly agreed despite everything in you was screaming no.

You were already running late, your hair half curled, outfit still unironed on the bed. The sound of Will pacing near the front door, jacket on, keys in hand making the already crushing anxiety in the chest worsen.

“You said you’d be ready by 7,” he called from the hallway, voice tight.

You flinched, mascara wand hovering mid-air, “I’m five minutes behind, Will. Calm down.”

“I’ve been waiting for forty,” he muttered, not too loud but just loud enough for you to hear.

You shot him a dangerous look in the mirror, “Then go without me.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic. I’m trying to get ready and you hovering around me ain’t gonna make me go any faster. You’re acting as if you’ve got somewhere more important to be.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” he said with a slight scoff, stepping into the doorway of your bedroom, “You don’t even want to come, so why are you dragging it out?”

You turned slowly, setting the wand down with a little more force than necessary, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, but there was venom laced beneath his calm tone, “Maybe that lately you don’t show up unless it benefits you. Work shoots? You’re early. My things? You act like you’re doing me a favour.”

Then the silence that followed after his word was cold.

You knew that you should’ve handled it better. Could’ve taken a breath and talked it through. But the tiredness that was overwhelming, the pressure that had been building in your chest, and the sting of the accusation – everything crashed down on you.

“Are you seriously implying I don’t care about you? About what matters to you?”

Will shrugged again, that awful, infuriating shrug, “I don’t know. You tell me.”

And that did it.

“No,” you said, voice rising, trembling with every word, “You don’t get to stand there and act like I haven’t tried. Like I haven’t shown up for you a hundred different ways you never even noticed. Just because I’m tired doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring.”

“Then show me!” he shouted suddenly, louder than you’d ever heard him and you took a step away from him, “Show me something real because I’m sick of trying to read between the lines of what you're not saying!”

You stared at him with an unreadable emotion plastered on your face as your chest heaved fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I can’t do this right now,” you muttered, grabbing your bag, “I can’t.”

Will took a step forward, something flickering in his eyes - regret, maybe - but he didn’t stop you from leaving.

“Fine,” he said, voice flat.

And that was the worst part of everything. Sure the yelling and the harsh words hurt but the fact he let you walk out the door without even so much of a fight killed you.

The hallway was too quiet as you walked through it, your footsteps echoing too loud in your head. You weren’t even sure what you were expecting as you walked through the halls – maybe a part of you hoped that he would chase after you, but he didn’t.

You got as far as the bottom of the stairs – not wanting to take the lift alone - before the tears started. They started quiet at first just cascading down your face and neck as you blinked. Then harder without warning a sob left your lips and it felt like your chest had caved in.

You didn’t know where you were going. You just knew you had to go because if you stayed even a little bit longer, you knew you would’ve said something you couldn’t take back.

You didn’t even think. Your feet just moved.

The air outside was cold wrapping around you in welcome. It bit at your face harshly but you could barely acknowledge the feeling. You’re mind fogged with the sound of his voice raised for the first time, the image of his shoulders tightening, of his eyes going cold when he said, “Then show me.”

You couldn’t handle the thought of being alone. Not tonight.

So, you went where you always went when things were too heavy to carry on your own.

Liv answered the door in an oversized hoodie, her hair up in the laziest bun ever seen, and a slice of pizza hanging out of her mouth.

She took one look at you - red eyes, flushed tear stained cheeks, white knuckles gripping onto holding your bag like you had just sprinted across the city - and her face dropped.

“Oh babe,” Her voice was already soft, already pulling you into her and Isaac’s flat.

You didn’t even say anything. Just stepped forward, and she wrapped her arms around you immediately, pizza slice abandoned on the small table next to her. She didn’t ask questions not right away.

“Come on,” she whispered, guiding you in by the shoulders the cold of your bare shoulder making her shudder slightly, “You’re freezing.”

The flat was warm and cluttered in that comfortable, lived-in way. Isaac was sat cross-legged on the sofa, remote in hand, but when he saw you, he hit pause and stood up immediately.

“You okay?” he asked, eyes wide, voice lower walking up to you straight away pulling you into a comforting hug.

You shook your head in his chest and he pulled away letting Liv guide you toward the kitchen, grabbing you a glass of water and a blanket from the couch in one practiced motion. Isaac watched from the side, concern etched into his expression but not pushing for any answers.

Eventually, you had been curled up in a blanket by Liv sitting between the couple with a hot chocolate in hand and your head leaning against Liv’s shoulder. You still hadn’t said much - just that it was bad. Explain that Will yelled and that you yelled back. That you didn’t know what it meant, only that you couldn’t be home.

Liv’s fingers gently combed through your hair as Isaac handed you a hot water bottle without a word.

“I’ve never seen him like that,” you whispered eventually, “I didn’t think we’d get there.”

Liv exhaled slowly. “Fights like that… they just happen. Especially when you love someone that much.”

“But I left,” you said, swallowing hard, “I just walked out.”

“And sometimes that’s better than saying something you can’t take back,” Isaac said carefully, from his corner of the couch, “You didn’t give up. You just tapped out for now.”

You nodded, but the lump in your throat never left.

“I keep replaying it,” you murmured, “Like, what I said. What he said. It was so sharp. And I keep thinking I should’ve just been a little more understanding or if he had just asked instead of assumed-”

“Hey,” Liv interrupted softly, squeezing your blanket covered knee, “Don’t do that, you’ll go crazy thinking about the What ifs.”

You sniffed, letting her words land, even if they didn’t fully stick yet.

“Do you, do you think he hates me?” The question was barely above a whisper. Childlike. Fragile.

“No,” Liv said immediately, “Absolutely not.”

“Not even in the slightest,” Bach added, “That man is in it. You don’t blow up like that unless you care too much.”

You leaned further into Liv, letting the weight of the day finally settle now that you weren’t carrying it alone, “Thanks,” you whispered.

“You can stay here as long as you want,” she murmured, brushing your hair back, “Seriously. Sleep on the couch, take the bed, steal my socks. Whatever you need.”

“We’ve got snacks, too,” Bach added from the kitchen, “And if you want, I can pretend I don’t know what’s going on and just loudly talk about Pokémon until you feel better.”

You laughed - actually laughed - a soft, broken little sound that surprised even you.

“I might take you up on that,” you said, voice cracking.

Liv smiled, resting her head on top of yours, “Everything will be okay.”

The silence after the door shut was deafening. Will didn’t move, he didn’t think he could. It was like time had frozen. He just stood there in the middle of the flat, the light from lap buzzing slightly, his hands braced on the wall like he would crumple in a ball if he let go.

The whole room still smelled like your perfume. Still looked like you - your uggs by the door, your half read book sat on the coffee table, your hoodie on the back of the chair.

And now you were gone.

The echo of your voice was still ringing in his ears – hurt and tired.

And his? Loud. Too loud. He’d seen you flinch — only slightly, but he noticed it.

He had known as soon as the words left his mouth that he pushed too hard, crossed some invisible line neither of them had ever dared to cross before.

He ran both hands down his face and let out groaned into them, turning in a slow, helpless circle like the answers might be written on the walls.

He was a mess. His heart in his throat but his pride in his way.

And suddenly, he needed to talk to someone. Anyone who wasn’t inside his head making this worse.

He fumbled for his phone, thumb hovering over her contact - and then quickly skipping past it before he could do something stupid. He scrolled down, found James, and hit call.

It rang twice.

“Mate,” James answered, casual and half-laughing like he hadn’t just been dragged into an emotional crisis, “Your alive?”

Will didn’t even try for a joke, “I think I fucked it.”

There was a beat of silence. James’ tone switched up immediately, “What happened?”

Will exhaled sharply and leaned back against the counter. “We had a fight. Like a proper one. Not just usual bickering. Full on yelling, I actually yelled at her James.”

“Shit,” James muttered quietly, “What about?”

“Everything,” Will muttered, “Nothing. I don’t even fucking know. She was late, I said something I knew I shouldn’t have, and it just spiralled. It was like all this stuff that’s been sitting between us for weeks just blew up.”

James let out a thoughtful hum on the other end, “And she left?”

Will closed his eyes, “Yeah, grabbed her bag and left.”

“Did she say she was coming back?”

“She didn’t say anything,” Will said, his voice on the edge of breaking, “I didn’t stop her.”

There was a pause.

Then, something softer, “Do you want her to come back?”

Will’s answer was immediate.

“Yes. Of course I do.”

“Then why the fuck didn’t you stop her, mate?” James practically yelled down the phone in complete confusion.

Will let out a bitter laugh, dragging a hand through his hair, “Because I’m a fucking idiot and I was angry. She was angry and I thought if I gave her space it’d be better than saying something worse.”

“Did it feel better?”

“No. It felt horrible.”

James just sighed, “Okay. First of all - take a breath. You’re not the first person to say something stupid in an argument.”

“I didn’t just say something stupid. I said she doesn’t show up for me.” Will’s voice finally broke at the end, “I know she does. I know. She shows up all the time, even when she’s burnt out. I made her feel like that wasn’t enough.”

James was quiet for a moment, “You ever think maybe you said it because you were scared?”

“Scared?”

“Yeah,” James said, “Scared that she’s going to pull away, scared it means she’s getting bored, or too busy, or changing her mind. So instead of asking for reassurance, you push first.”

The words that left James’ mouth felt like a punch in the gut, and Will stayed quiet.

“You haven’t lost her, mate,” James continued gently, “Not if you actually talk to her.”

Will nodded slowly, even though James couldn’t see it.

“I just, I looked at her face when she left and she looked done. Like she’d already decided she was over it.”

“No,” James stated, “She looked hurt. People don’t storm out when they’re finished, they leave quietly. She’s not done, she just didn’t want to say something she couldn’t take back either.”

Will sat down on the floor, leaning back against the cupboard, phone still pressed to his ear.

“I miss her already,” he said, and this time, his voice was barely a whisper.

“I know, man.”

“She’s probably with Liv,” Will added, more to himself than anything.

“Then she’s being looked after.”

Will nodded again, staring blankly at the opposite wall, “I want to fix it.”

“Just give her the night,” James said, “Sleep it off and text her in the morning. Don’t apologise just to make yourself feel better - apologise because you mean it.”

Will stayed quiet for a long time.

Then finally, quietly: “Thanks, mate.”

James voice softened, “Anytime. And Will?”

“Yeah?”

“You love her. She knows that but it doesn’t hurt to remind her of it.”

Will smiled, tired and sad and still completely tangled up in what he’d done.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “Yeah, she should probably hear it again.”

The front door of your flat looked exactly the same as it did the night before but everything felt different.

You hesitated with your hand in a fist hovering over the wood, nerves jittering under your skin. The last time you were here, you had your guard up and his eyes had been cold.

And you left without looking back, and you hadn’t expected your chest to ache the way it did now, standing outside his door.

You knocked once. Waited.

Then the door opened almost immediately.

Will stood there barefoot, hair messy, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows like he’d been pacing. His face was tired - not just from lack of sleep, but from waiting. His eyes locked onto yours like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“Hi,” you said softly, “I left my key.”

“Hi,” he echoed, like it knocked the air from his lungs, “I saw.”

You stepped inside slowly, and he instantly moved out of your way keeping a distance between you both and closed the door gently behind you. He didn’t make any moves to try and reach out for you not wanting to crowd you.

The flat was quiet - still and like it had been frozen in time, like it had been holding its breath.

You stood there for a moment, gripping your bag, eyes flickering around like you were seeing it all for the first time.

And then in a whisper, “You left the hoodie on the chair.”

Will looked over and huffed out a soft laugh, “Couldn’t bring myself to move it.”

That did something to your chest.

You took a breath and turned to face him properly.

“Got your text.”

He nodded once, “I meant it.”

“I know,” you said, voice trembling just a little, “And I’m sorry, too. For walking out. For not for not telling you what was going on and how I was really feeling.”

He stepped a little closer now, careful, cautious.

“I should’ve asked but I didn’t know how to,” he said, voice low – almost embarrased, “I could feel things slipping, I could feel you pulling away and I didn’t want to lose you, but instead of saying that, I accused you of not caring.”

“You don’t have to be perfect all the time, Will, not for me,” you said gently, “But you have to talk to me. I can’t guess what’s going on in your head. Especially when I’m in mine, trying not to fall apart.”

He nodded, eyes glossy, jaw tight.

“I was scared you’d had enough of it, enough of me,” he admitted, “That you were already halfway gone and I was the only one still clinging.”

“I am tired,” you said, “But not of you, never of you. I just didn’t know how to tell you that I needed you closer, not further away.”

He let that land - and when he looked at you again, there was something raw and hopeful in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, stepping close enough that your hands nearly brushed, “For everything. For not seeing it sooner. For making you feel like you weren’t enough.”

You nodded, and then you reached for his hand and he gripped it like a lifeline.

“I don’t want to fight like that again,” you whispered.

“Neither do I,” he breathed, pulling you gently into his arms.

And for the first time in a while, the felt melted into a warm and comforting atmosphere. It was quiet but not the kind that had been suffocating you for months. You curled into his chest for the first time in a while and let yourself mold into him like it was your home.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair, “I love you even when I’m being a dumbass, especially then.”

You smiled into his hoodie, squeezing his side.

“I love you too, always. Even if I’m too stuck in my own head to act like it..

He pressed a kiss to your hairline tightening his hold on you.

“Do-over?” you asked softly, tilting your chin up.

“No do-overs,” he said, forehead pressed to yours, “Just… moving forward. Together.”

And for the first time in weeks, you could finally breathe again.

taglist: @jamiekluivert @reidyourpalms @roc-haze @whisperturnedecho @graceln4 @dopeysunflowers @super-gay-for-u @bethorwhateverr @livvymd @lilyyxoii @4ngelrealm @kiyoomology @canyouseethesainz

[wowsmutty]

d.i.l.f

will lenney x fem reader

summary: your son comes home with some interesting news about will after the school run.

masterlist | main masterlist

You were lying on the sofa with yours and Will’s six-month-old baby girl, Matilda (or Tilly for short), babbling away on your chest, chewing on a teething toy as you nodded along to her noises, pretending to make clueless conversation with the baby.

Will had gone to do the school run to pick up your eldest, Noah, who had just started nursery - something he did every day while you did the drop-offs.

You gasped at Tilly’s cooing, leaning into the moment like you were gossiping with a friend. You made her head bob with the sounds, and the teething toy slapped against your chest, making you grimace as the slobber covered your chest. “Oh, thank you, sweet girl,” you said, wiping your chest with a muslin cloth and placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“You want this back?” you asked, offering her the blue teething toy as she reached out to grab it. “Well done!”

The sound of the front door clicking open made a smile spread across your face. You scooped Tilly up to sit her straight, preparing for the impending tackle from your three-year-old.

The uncoordinated running of little feet filled the house, followed by Will’s familiar protests to take off shoes. 'Mummy!' Noah’s voice echoed through the house, and your heart melted.

“Hi, baby!” you greeted, opening your free arm for him to climb into your hold while balancing Tilly on your side. “How was school?”

“So fun! I painted, I played with friends,” Noah replied enthusiastically.

He buried his face into your hip as he recounted his day at nursery. Will walked into the room, his face lit with a smile as he looked at his little family with pride.

Noah suddenly sat up straight with a serious look on his face. “Guess what, mummy?”

“What, sweetie?”

Will took a seat next to you, gently transferring Tilly into his arms. He kissed the top of her head, causing her to squeal before she snuggled under his chin.

“Daddy got called han’some,” Noah stated matter-of-factly, making you glance at Will in amusement. He avoided your gaze, his face flushed with a sheepish smile.

“Did he?”

Noah nodded, humphing as he climbed onto your lap, tugging lightly at your hair. “Yeah, by Wes’ mummy.”

“By Wes’ mummy? Really?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow. Will cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing at the floor.

“What did daddy say to Wes’ mummy?”

Will rose from the sofa, lifting a sleeping Tilly into his arms as he carefully walked her to the travel cot beside the coffee table, planting a soft kiss on her forehead as he placed her down gently - clearly trying to escape the conversation.

“Tank you. My wife thinks so too.”

“Why don’t you go play while mummy and daddy make dinner hm?” You ushered your son off your lap with a soft tap on his hip, and he ran to his playroom excitedly.

A laugh escaped your lips as you turned to face your husband. His face was now bright red.

“You cocky bastard.” You shook your head in disbelief. “Did you really say that?”

“Well, obviously,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “You do think I’m handsome, so I weren’t lying.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You’re very lucky that it’s true, Mr. Lenney, and that I love you.” Your hands cupped his jaw, turning his face gently toward you as your fingers traced circles over his pale skin.

Will’s eyes never left yours, a soft intensity in them as he studied the features of your face - the ones he fell in love with so many years ago and has continued to fall in love with every day since.

“I was going to tell you.”

“Will, I don’t care,” you chuckled. “I’m the one you come home to at the end of the day.”

A smile broke out on his face as he leaned into your touch. “I love you.”

“I know,” you replied with a playful smirk, making him shoot up from his peaceful position on the sofa.

“I love you too,” you murmured, he tackled you into his arms, pulling you onto his lap.

“That’s what I thought,” he whispered, holding you tightly as you giggled to yourself.

You leaned down, pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. Will melted into you, his warm hands trailing up under your sports bra.

You pulled back with a teasing smile. “Stop it.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Can’t blame a man for trying.”

You stood up, glancing over your shoulder as his eyes followed you. “Later,” you teased.

“That better be a promise, missy.”

You turned your head just enough to catch the look on Will’s face - smug, hopeful, and utterly besotted.

“Depends how well you help with dinner,” you said over your shoulder, smirking as you wandered into the kitchen. You could hear the familiar creak of the sofa as he stood, followed by the quiet thud of his footsteps trailing behind you.

“Are you bribing me with affection to get out of chopping onions?”

“Maybe.” You grabbed the chopping board, sliding a few vegetables toward him. “Besides, I distinctly remember promising later, not never.”

Will stepped behind you, arms snaking around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. “Then I’d better earn it.”

You hummed softly, leaning into him just for a second before nudging him away with your hip. “You’re not getting out of helping. Baby monitor’s right there. Let’s see if we can make it through dinner without waking the baby or setting off the fire alarm.”

As Will began slicing with exaggerated care - tongue poking out in mock concentration - you glanced toward the living room where Noah’s happy chatter floated in from the playroom. Tilly stirred briefly in the travel cot but settled again, her tiny chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm.

The house smelled like garlic and warmth, filled with the kind of background noise only families produce - chopping, humming, little footsteps, soft baby breaths.

Will leaned over suddenly, brushing his lips against your cheek. “You know,” he murmured, “I never imagined I’d get so lucky. You, the kids... this.”

You turned to face him fully, fingers still holding the wooden spoon. “This is the dream, right?”

“The absolute dream,” he said, pulling you closer again. “But I still expect to cash in on that promise.”

You laughed, head falling against his chest. “I’m counting on it.”

taglist: @whisperturnedecho @graceln4 @dopeysunflowers @super-gay-for-u @bethorwhateverr @livvymd @lilyyxoii @roc-haze

[wowsmutty]

GREEN EYES, GREEN ROOM || WILLNE

summary; during a group vido shoot, will grows jealous when you get close to another creator.

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

You didn’t notice Will at first.

He’s been quiet since you arrived — surprisingly so for a shoot day. Normally, he greets you with some teasing remark, something saracastic with just enough softness to make you grin. But today, you barely get a nod as he adjusts his mic pack and mutters something to George.

You chalk it up to nervers or tiredness. Maybe the video is stressing him out. Maybe it’s nothing.

Still, something feels off.

It’s a group collab — some challenge video George came up involving trivia, forfeits, and the occasional shock collar. The energy’s chaotic, everyone shouting over each other and laughing, which makes it easier not to notice how Will’s mood curdles every time you so much as glance at the guest sitting beside you.

Tom. Newer creator. Cute. A little flirty.

You’re polite, as always. You laugh at one of his jokes. Let him steal a crisp from your plate. Just normal stuff. Friendly stuff.

But from across the room, Will’s jaw is tight.

You catch his gaze once — just for a second — and he looks away like he didn’t mean to be staring.

During a break, you wander into the green room to get some water. Your legs are still tingling from that last forefeit, and yourr cheeks hurt from laughing.

You’re halfway through unscrewing the cap when you hear the door click behind you.

Will.

He doesn’t say anything.

Just stands there, arms crossed, back against the door like he’s trying to keep the room small.

“Hey,” you say, gently. “You good?”

His eyes find yours, and you know instantly — he’s not.

“You and Tom seem to be getting on,” he says, like it’s casual.

It’s not.

You blink. “He’s nice. It’s just for the video.”

Will scoffs under his breath. “Didn’t seem like just for the video when he was basically leaning into your lap.”

You pause, water bottle forgotten in your hand.

“Are you seriously jealous right now?”

He pushes off the door. “No. I’m just observant.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Will—”

“Look, it’s not like I have a say in what you do.” His voice is sharp now, edged with something bitter. “I just didn’t think you’d be into some guy who thinks filming a mukbang gives him personality.”

It stings.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you snap. “Why do you even care?”

He hesitates.

And that’s when it clicks.

Your heart drops a little.

“Will.”

He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Forget it.”

“No. Don’t do that. Say what you were going to say.”

Will’s jaw tenses. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for once, there’s no sarcasm behind them. Just raw, stripped-black emotion.

“I care because it’s you,” he says. “And because every time I think I’ve moved past whatever this is, you smile at someone else and it makes me want to punch a wall.”

Silence.

The kind that hums with unsaid things.

You take a slow step towards him.

“You’re jealous because you like me.”

He exhales — like the words took something out of him.

“Yeah,” he ays. “I do.”

And then: “I like you way more than I should.”

Your chest tightens.

Because the truth is, you like him too. You always have.

But WillNE? Will never says stuff like that. He buries everything beneath humour and awkward affection. Hearing it out loud feels like something sacred.

“I wasn’t flirting with Tom,” you said quietly. “I was trying to ignore the fact that the only person I wanted to talk to wouldn’t even look at me.”

That gets his attention.

Will blinks, caught off guard. “You mean—?”

You nod.

And then, without thinking, you step into his space, wrap your arms around his hoodie-clad frame, and rest your forehead against his chest.

He doesn’t move for a second.

Then he’s pulling you in like he’s scared you’ll disappear, holding you tight enough to say all the things he still can’t.

The door opens a crack, and George’s voice breaks through.

“Oi, you two done sulking or do I need to pair you up for the next round?”

Will pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you.

You both laugh, breathless.

“Coming,” Will calls, voice still rough.

He glances down at you. “We’ll talk later?”

You nod. “Definitely.”

And when he laces his fingers with yours as you walk back out, you don’t let go.

[wowsmutty]

your Will fics are giving me LIFE 💓 obsessed with the latest one, and might need a part 2 🫢 I just love the idea of them getting together, and whenever they’re having problems (individually or as a couple) they sit in the bath again and figure it out as a team 🥹

Spring Into Summer | WillNE

Pushing It Down And Praying - established reader. You can find all other parts here. Can be read as a standalone fic (but would make more sense with the series) 🤍

—

January 1st

The apartment was covered in streamers, glitter and bottle top lids. Will and Y/N had been brave enough to offer up their place for the group’s New Years celebrations.

So far this year, they had witnessed Arthur Hill and George kiss during the ball drop, they’d caught Chip mid tactical vomit in their outdoor plants and Chris had somehow ended up covered in Becky’s bright red lippy.

It was about 3am when the crew had finally emptied out, the couple pottering around their living room with garbage bags and cleaning up before finally deciding to call it a night. They had gotten to work removing copious amounts of glitter from their faces, taking turns sliding the makeup wipes across the his and hers sinks in the bathroom.

Y/N turned to Will, who was struggling to keep his eyes open. “Sweetheart, just sit on the edge of the bath and I’ll help.”

She stood between his legs, gingerly wiping his face. Will’s hands lay happily on either side of her waist, looking up at her. “Happy new year, darling.”

He was met with a soft smile and a gentle kiss. “Happy new year.”

——

March 11th

Will had asked for one thing for his birthday - a hot bath with his hot girlfriend.

It was about 7pm when they each put their phones on do not disturb and found themselves taking refuge in the bathroom. Somehow, the ensuite had become the cornerstone of their relationship - a no yelling, judgement free space. Anger was welcome on the condition that it was productive and kind in its delivery.

Will had learned that Y/N was a practical woman. They had been friends for years and had known each other throughout each of their respective relationships, but he hadn’t expected her to be the type of partner she was. Having seen her drunkenly yell at her friends shitty boyfriends and put her foot down when Alex’s tongue was a little too sharp, Will had expected her to be slightly impatient and a little quick to anger. He couldn’t be more wrong. Y/N was soft, patient, and practical. She was emotionally intelligent and communicated better than most of the adults he knew (himself included).

On the occasion she would come home from work frustrated, she would tell him “I’m just going to get in the bath. Give me an hour to work through some shit.” And so began their tradition. Angry? Go have some time out in the bath. Need to say something without being interrupted? Let’s go sit on the floor of the bathroom. The drunken chat in George’s bathroom that had started their relationship flowed through it - both of them practicing kindness and tact, forever forthcoming with each other.

Will would text. It’s a bad day. Would love a quiet evening.

Alright. I’ll order a Chinese and get the bath bombs out for you. She knew exactly what he needed.

His birthday was no different.

Candles scattered the bathroom and a Noah Kahan vinyl was playing softly. As requested, Y/N had found a nice chilled red for them to share. She sat behind Will, his back flush against her chest and his hands resting softly on her thighs. She ran her fingers through his hair as he spoke about his day, scratching his scalp from time to time.

“You know, I think this has been my favourite birthday ever.” He mumbled, eyes closed.

She hummed. “Is that so?”.

“Yeah. I got to spend the day with the boys, playing football and having a nice pub meal. Had friends calling me all day to tell me they love me.” She squeezed his shoulder as he spoke. “And as if that wasn’t enough, I’ve come home to find the most beautiful girl in the world making my favourite dinner and running us a bath.”

Y/N smirked. “She sounds like she’s pretty great.”

“You can’t have her. She’s pretty fuckin’ hot.” He laughed, leaning backwards. Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing his temple.

“You’re pretty good looking for an old man.” A cheeky grin was plastered across her face.

He laughed heartily, his chest vibrating. “Oh, fuck off! You won’t be getting any of my pension.”

——

June 23rd

The tension was palpable. The minute Y/N had walked into the apartment, Will could tell a breakdown was imminent.

“You’ve had a shit day, haven’t you?” he asked from across the living room.

“I love you but I don’t wanna talk about it. I’m like fucking vibrating with anger and I’m not about to take that out on you.” She stated, calmly putting away her work bag and hanging up her coat. “Hi boys.”

Freezy, Lux, Josh and Harry were visiting Will for a few quiet afternoon drinks (secretly also wanting to catch up with Y/N). Y/N would normally love to sit and indulge in a glass of wine with them all, probing them all for the gossip they usually wouldn’t share with the wider group.

Y/N had been through the door for all of 2 minutes before Freya walked in, bottle of rosé in one hand and a bag of treats in the other.

“I have brought bathers, alcohol and snacks. Let’s go rot in the bath.” Freya kissed Y/N’s cheek and they made their way to the ensuite bathroom.

Josh grinned watching the two women interact. “I’m glad Frey and Y/N are such good mates.”

Will nodded. “Me too. They had me in stitches when they got on the piss last weekend.”

“I heard you got kicked out of your bed!” Freezy laughed.

“Yeah, they wanted to have a girls night so I set up shop in the spare room.” Will explained, a soft laugh escaping his lips.

“You should’ve come over to my place, Frey wasn’t there to spoon me so there was plenty of room.” Josh winked at Will, the room erupting in giggles.

A loud ‘oh, fuck off! What a cunt!’ could be heard from a few rooms over, sounding distinctly like Freya. Laughter then ensued.

About an hour later, the two girls emerged in matching pyjamas, each holding a half finished bottle of wine.

Josh quirked an eyebrow. “Where’d you get your pjs from, Frey?”.

She looked back at him, puzzled. “Y/N bought a pair to keep in my room.”

Will laughed. “Sorry, your room?”.

“I just keep some cozy clothes and toiletries in the spare room for Freya,” Y/N explained. “There’s a drawer there for Talia too.”

“You normally end up having sleepovers in our room anyways.” Will explained.

“Oh, would you prefer I give Freya one of your drawers?”. Y/N grinned cheekily.

——

October 5th

The sun was going down as Y/N arrived home. “Honey, I’m home!” She called out.

“We’re in the bathroom!” Will yelled back.

Y/N walked through the apartment and into the bathroom, finding Will laying in a tub full of ice. He was yapping to Ieuan and Mikey, who were deep in conversation about the latest, most controversial football player signing. Mikey sat on the edge of the bath while Ieuan was sitting on the floor, up against the vanity.

“Y/N! We haven’t seen you in forever!” Ieuan rose to his feet, pulling her into a quick hug.

“I know, right! I’ve been saying to Will that I’d love to have all of you guys round for dinner once this shoot is over.” She smiled at him, squeezing his arm gently.

Mikey piped up. “I’ll come if Will’s not invited.”

Will narrowed his eyes. “You’re literally sat on the edge of me bath, staring straight at us.”

Y/N smirked. “You two do look a bit intimate over there.”

Ieuan, Mikey and Y/N opted to leave Will to rot in ice cold misery and have a cup of tea instead. The three of them were spread across the couches, each clutching a blanket and exchanging stories from their week.

“The sidemen have asked me to do a huge shoot with them, but it overlaps with the football video Will’s doing for Chris. They’re going to Australia and doing a shit load of content while they’re there.” Ieuan relayed, clutching his mug between his hands. “I don’t wanna turn the opportunity down but I promised Will that I’d help out.”

“You should go to Australia. He’ll get over it.” Y/N spoke matter-of-factly, sipping her tea.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on Will’s side? You’re his girlfriend.” Mikey quizzed.

“I am. He would be disappointed if he found out you turned down a huge opportunity like that to film for him and Chris.” She spoke clearly. “I know he’s your employer, but Will thinks the world of you guys and he’s not about to stand in the way of your professional development.”

As if his ears were burning, Will entered the room. “What are you all talking about?”.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at Ieuan.

“I’ve had a cool opportunity pop up at the same time as the Chris shoot, and Y/N was just telling me that I should ditch the Chris job and do this other thing instead.” Ieuan nervously spoke.

Will sat down on the couch next to Y/N, manoeuvring her blanket to cover his legs. “What’s the opportunity?”.

“It’s 2 weeks in Australia with the sidemen. James put me up for the job.”

“Yeah, fuck Chris. Go to Australia.” The lanky Geordie stole a sip of his girlfriend’s tea. He looked to her, nodding approvingly. “This shit is good.”

“Wait, are you sure? I don’t wanna leave you in the lurch.” Ieuan’s eyes were pleading.

Will looked at the man, his gaze softening. “Go to Australia. Y/N was right. There will always be another Chris video, but this thing in Australia could be a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

Ieuan nodded softly, turning to look at Y/N. Thank you, he mouthed.

Mikey looked to Will, a smirk tugging at his lips. “We should put you in an ice bath more often, it softens you up.”

“Can we please stop filming videos where I have to run all of the time? My bones feel fucking brittle and frail after laying in all of that ice.” Will exclaimed, his voice raising an octave. “Must be elder abuse or something.”

——

December 30th

Will and Y/N had been having a slight disagreement in the kitchen, their voices raised and jaws clenched.

Y/N wordlessly put her phone on do not disturb, placed it on the counter and picked up her glass of wine, making her way to the bathroom. Will got the hint and followed.

The two sat in the bath, their knees tucked in but touching slightly as Will shuffled to fit his tall frame comfortably.

“Okay, let’s reset,” She began. “What’s bothering you?”.

“I just feel a little riled up after the trip away. I realise that you and Alex are from the same hometown, you know the same people and that your old friends don’t give a second thought to mentioning him - but I want it to be clear that I am committed to you. I’m not the consolation prize for him.” He spoke clearly, rather monotone to avoid swaying one way emotionally.

“I don’t think you’re a consolation prize at all. I truly do think it is just small town mentality for them to continue talking about him.” She sighed, having a mouthful of wine.

“I heard you defending me. I just wanna know you actually think those things.” He was timid, not wanting to meet her eyes.

Will’s the one. He doesn’t even compare to Alex. He’s what I’ve always wanted.

“Will, I love you. I will go wherever you go. You’re my person.” She stated, holding her free hand out for his.

He gently intertwined their fingers. “How do you feel about doing the whole domestic, married life thing?”.

“I’d marry you tomorrow. I’m in it for the long haul.” She smiled softly. “Spring into summer, I’m here.”

“Okay, so if I ask?”. He looked her straight in the eyes.

“It’ll be a yes.”

I hope he asks. I wanna be with him forever.

There was a comfortable silence between the two of them, before he spoke. “Do you feel like you have a bit of deja vu?”.

“I do, actually.” They each sipped their wine, enjoying the stillness. Her face lit up, remembering that same conversation they’d had in George’s bathtub so long ago. “Hey, sweetheart?”.

“Yeah, darling?”.

“Don’t forget to call.” She smiled.

His eyes softened. “Don’t forget to answer.”

——

A/N: Hi lovely anon, I hope this is what you were after? It was hard to write something that was totally based on them having disagreements or going through hardship, so I thought the changing seasons might be a better option (very open to feedback here!!).

My apologies friends - this is yet another scheduled post. I have seen a couple of requests come through and am slowly chipping away at them during my downtime. Please keep them coming (I especially love the ones based around songs/musicians as it is kinda the whole style of this blog).

Love you all, have a fabulous week ahead ❤️❤️

Roc xx

[wowsmutty]

caught in the act, part two [will + harry]

harry catches you and will again... whoops! 😇

a/n: part 1 of this seems to be a lot of people's favorite, which I totally didn't expect, so I just wanted to say THANK YOU very much for all of your support and love on the disgusting filth I write when I'm supposed to be working. love u my sweet girly pops n gays 🙏🏻

smut!!! borderline porn without plot (tw for super light butt stuff??)

18+ / MDNI !!!

💕 read part one! 💕

--

another weekend, another party.

you and will drunkenly giggle into each other's mouths, making out in a dark corner behind the wall separating you from the rest of the guests.

you'd only gotten flirtier and touchier with one another since your recent, uh, encounter, and you arrived tonight with every intention of sneaking off with him like last time. if the resident blondie in blue across the room cared to join you again... well, that was up to him.

it wasn't long before will pulled you into a guest bedroom, pinning you against the door as it shut behind you. "well, isn't this familiar?" he says, fingers sliding under your sweater. "feel like I'm havin' deja vu."

"hmm, really? I don't recall anything," you tease with your lip between your teeth. "remind me what happened?"

he rolls his eyes with a smirk at your inquiry, moving your arms over your head and tugging your top off, throwing it to the floor. "I can show you better than I can tell you," he whispers, licking into your smiling mouth before locking lips again.

his hands wander, trailing down before landing firmly under your thick thighs and lifting you effortlessly, your legs instinctively entrapping his waist as he carries you to the bed. you bury your face in his neck, planting wet open-mouthed kisses parallel to his pretty pearl necklace that almost never came off, a quiet groan escaping his throat.

as he sits down on the corner of the bed with you still wrapped around his middle, you adjust to straddle him, tongues intertwining as you deftly unbutton his linen shirt and peel it off his body. you press your chest against his, losing your fingers in his hair as your kisses grow progressively hungrier.

his grasp on your hips tightens, pulling you with him as he lies back onto the soft duvet. you grind down on him to feel his growing arousal under you, and his large palms slide down to grip your backside as he bucks his hips up to meet yours. you sigh against his lips, heat already flooding your veins with need.

"I think I'm starting to remember some things," you taunt, trailing your hand south on his torso and unbuckling his jeans.

"oh yeah?" he replies with a raised eyebrow.

"mmhmm," you hum, and lower yourself to suck on his neck, his breathing shallow and fingertips digging into your plush sides at the sensation. your bite-swollen lips don't come up for air as they travel languidly from his collarbones to his hipbones, sucking and licking, nibbling, peppering kisses the whole way. by the time you get to his waistband, he's already pleading with you, the anticipation building in his gut making him sweat. "you're killin' me, love," he says with a heavy exhale.

"you said that last time, william," you giggle, fingers grazing over his bulge aching to get out.

"and I fuckin' mean it," he fires back exasperatedly, growing adorably needier by the second.

you pull back with a smug grin, making him watch you remove the remainder of your clothing at a glacial pace, before finally freeing him from the rest of his own. his long cock slaps against his stomach, already glistening with pre-cum, and you don't even think before ducking down and licking a thick stripe up the exposed underside.

will gasps, clutching at the sheets as you slip off the bed to settle between his legs where they hang over the edge, and wrap your digits around him, swiping your tongue across the tip before taking him fully into your mouth.

he groans, fingers burying into your curls and tugging softly. you hum in pleasure, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks in against the sides. "f-fucking hell, you're so good, fuck," he pants. you look up at him watching you intently, your half-lidded eyes watering slightly as you choke, reveling in the pretty sounds he makes in response.

"c'mere, darling. s'only fair I get a taste of you as well this time, eh?"

you can't help the excitement that spreads across your face, and you lift yourself onto the bed, straddling will's chest backwards and bending over into a 69 position to continue your ministrations. will grabs your thighs and tugs you towards his face, immediately connecting his mouth to your dripping core.

moans spill from your lips onto his cock, the vibrations sending shivers through his body as his do the same to you. he explores you hungrily, tongue caressing your slick folds and sliding into your tight pussy, groaning against you as he sucks on your clit. your eyes roll back as you choke yourself on his cock, grinding against his face desperately.

you're completely absorbed in each other, just like last time, when the door cracks open. only when it clicks shut do you glance up and realize that you and will aren't alone anymore. a wicked grin stretches across your face as your gaze meets your intruder's.

"hi harry," you greet with a purr. "fancy seeing you here."

you maintain eye contact with harry, blue eyes already wide and dilated with hunger, watching as you take will back into your mouth.

"will, s'it okay that harry's here?" you check, kisses and featherlight licks sprinkling up his length. he hums affirmatively, giving harry a thumbs up, too pussy drunk to pull away from you long enough to answer verbally. the buzzing sensation from his lips makes you fidget with a sharp inhale.

harry chuckles at him. "I wouldn't want to stop either, mate," he admits, strolling over to you as his hands dip into his joggers, releasing his hard dick from its tent without hesitation. “just tastes too good, don't she?” he adds, brushing your cheek lightly. “makes the prettiest little sounds too."

he lazily strokes himself as he stands directly in front of you. you look up at him, eyes big and watery from deep throating will repeatedly. "such a cute droolin’ mess already," he admires with a smirk, running his hand through your hair, making your eyes flutter shut.

you keep a hand firmly working on will as you lift your head, urging harry closer. his large hand lands on your shoulder to keep you upright as you take him into your mouth, tongue sliding along his thick cock and eyes rolling back as it hits the back of your throat.

with will in your hand, harry in your mouth, and will's mouth still buried snugly in your soaking cunt, you almost feel dizzy with gratification. suddenly, will pushes his head back further, experimentally gliding his tongue over the sensitive skin between your pussy and your bum. you squirm and whimper lightly around harry, the new feeling sending shivers up your spine.

"this okay, pet?" will mutters from behind you.

"mmhmm," you hum urgently, making harry gasp quietly as you pull away. "yes, yes please," you exhale, begging will to continue.

he reattaches to you like a parasite, lapping at you feverishly, and you feel the wet heat of his tongue coated in your arousal press against your arsehole. you groan headily as he licks and sucks, the tip of his tongue teasing your untouched back opening, and you don't even notice him removing a hand from your thigh until it reaches your core, two fingers filling your pussy and curling perfectly to meet your sweet spot. your noises get louder at the combination, prompting harry to push your head back down on his cock to muffle you.

you whine as he fucks your throat, tears streaming as you feel yourself growing close to orgasm. you dig your nails into harry's thigh, feeling so fucked out already without having even been fucked, and the fire in your gut grows bigger by the second.

"gettin' close, princess? is will makin' you feel good?" harry coos, still controlling your jaw in a way he knows you couldn't possibly respond. you nod to the best of your ability, gently squeezing will at his base and pumping your fist up and down. he moans into you, his mouth reconnecting with your clit and sending you over the edge. you mewl wantonly as your eyes disappear into your skull, drool seeps out over harry's cock, and you coat will's pretty face in your pleasure.

you breath heavily, pulling away from harry to flip around and slam your lips against will's. your tongue entangles with him obsessively, unable to verbalize your gratitude.

dragging will off the bed, you push harry onto it, immediately settling on your knees between his legs and taking him back into your mouth, arching your back as will steps in behind you.

"your turn, my friend," harry manages between grunts and blissed-out sighs.

"mmhmm," will responds, half-listening as his hands journey over your thighs and cheeks, spreading them open to look at the shining mess he left. "so fuckin' perfect," he lauds. "sweetest damn thing I've ever tasted."

your chest pounds at his praise, your face going red. "oh that's so cute," harry pokes. "blushing over compliments like an innocent little girl even with my cock in your throat."

will smirks, leaning over you, planting a kiss on your back, before lining the thick pink head of his cock up with your entrance. he pushes in with a shaky breath, and a low groan falls from you, vibrating around harry, as will's length slowly stretches your velvet walls until he's buried to the hilt.

"go on, she doesn't need you to be gentle," harry eggs will on. "do you, baby?"

you look into his eyes and shake your head eagerly with a smile, simultaneously flattening your tongue against the underside of his shaft and swishing it back and forth in time with your response, watching his lashes flit like butterfly wings.

"if you say so, love," will concedes, retracting his hips slowly before slamming back into you with force, eliciting a heady whine from your vocal cords. harry tugs on your hair and bucks his hips up into your face as will settles into an aggressive rhythm, both boys becoming increasingly animalistic with each thrust. tears stream down your face as you nearly black out from sheer, unadulterated bliss.

"she fuckin' loves it, the little whore," harry hisses. "f'ckin made for us to use like the dumb doll she is."

"ughh, fuck, so tight 'n wet for us," will growls between shallow breaths. "fuckin' perfect pussy... so f'ckin good..."

your greedy cunt contracts around him, his salacious praise and harry's degradation making your head go fuzzy. harry twitches in your mouth, alerting you to his impending climax, and you hollow your cheeks around him, choking so that your nose hits his stomach. an irrepressible breathy moan pours from his pink lips as he reaches his peak, shooting hot cum straight into the back of your throat. you swallow it all, sucking him clean and curling your tongue around him -- not letting up until you hear the deliciously pretty whimpering sound you remember he used to make when he started feeling overstimulated.

harry tenses, inhaling sharply at the near-burning sensation. "s-stop, please baby, fuck, ughh," he begs, all bravado gone as his breathing jumps an octave and he writhes under you. he keens desperately -- dominating rough sex harry melting away, sweet needy baby harry taking his place, whining for you to put him out of his misery. the noise scratches your brain and you feel a fresh wave of heat pool in your stomach. "please, please..."

a simpering grin stretches across your face as you finally free harry and he relaxes his shoulders, your jaw aching as you pull him in for a deep kiss, tongues tangling together. a few seconds later, your kiss is cut short by harry's hand abruptly locking around your neck. you gasp, eyes big as he shifts back into character.

"who the fuck do you think you are?" he spits. "I think you've forgotten who's in control here, darling."

you chew on your lip as he squeezes your throat, your eyes rolling back instantly. "I'm.. I'm sorry baby..." you plead between panting breaths. "just like m-makin' you feel go-- oh fffu-- oh, will, fuck, oh my godddd," you lose your train of thought as will pounds into you harder again, your pussy fluttering around him at the feeling of harry's grip on your jugular. "mmf f-fuck, you weren't kidding about the clench when you cut her air off, fuck me," he groans.

"told you, my friend," harry responds smugly. "dumb little girl, so much better off without any thoughts in her silly head, hmm?" he coos at you. you nod wordlessly as will forces lewd noises from your lips over and over.

harry's large palm flies up to stamp a red welt across your cheek, and you yelp, mewling pathetically, as your eyes water at the sting the slap left behind. "answer the question."

"y-yes," you whine. "s-so good... just wanna be a braindead toy for you, baby.. ughhhhh..."

"fuckin' hell," will remarks. "you've trained 'er well, mate."

harry plants a wet kiss on your cheek, soothing the angry mark his hand left. "there ya go, there's my good girl," he praises with a whisper, your chest going tight at his words.

will's fingers find your clit, rubbing in fast circles, and you nearly wail in pleasure. "c'mon pet, we're not done yet," he rasps. "w'nna feel you cum on my cock."

your eyebrows pinch together as he works his hips and hands in tandem, harry's fist wrapping around your throat again, making your eyes roll back as he spits in your mouth, sliding two fingers in to muffle your voice. you close your lips around them, sucking and licking desperately as you get close to another orgasm.

soon enough, your insides feel like they're reaching the apex of a rollercoaster, just before it drops, and finally the tension breaks. you completely lose control, crying out and drooling around harry's fingers as you coat will in your release. will isn't far behind, his own heady moans increasing in volume and his fingertips harshly digging into your sides, and you grind back against him, meeting halfway as his hips stutter and seize. "fuck, shit, f-ughhhh.." will's coil snaps, hot white ropes painting your walls. you tighten around him once more, rolling your hips back and milking him dry.

as will removes himself, you practically collapse onto harry, out of breath and totally exhausted. his big arms immediately pull you into a cuddle, stroking your hair. will returns with a warm damp cloth, both boys gently cleaning you up before cleaning themselves.

just like last time, you drift off to sleep without a word, tucked between will and harry.

[wowsmutty]

Suffocate Me Sweetly. | WillNE x Reader(MDNI)

very short, just something i wrote bc i was bored!!its bad.

The room was bathed in the soft, warm glow of the setting sun, casting a golden hue over everything. You and Will were curled up on the couch, his arm draped possessively around your shoulders. He was engrossed in his phone, the screen casting a cool blue light on his face, while you felt a growing need for more of his attention.

"You're so quiet," Will murmured, his thumb still swiping across the screen.

"You're on your phone," you pouted, tracing idle patterns on his chest. "I feel neglected."

Will chuckled, looking up from his phone with a soft smile. "Sorry, babe. Just finishing up some work emails. What's on your mind?"

You bit your lip, considering your next move. You wanted something more, something new, but the words stuck in your throat. You took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to speak. "I was thinking... maybe we could try something different," you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

Will's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Different? Oh, like a new movie or maybe we could try that recipe for chocolate lava cake I saw online. I've been wanting to bake something new," he suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. You wanted to tell him, but the words seemed to evaporate on your tongue. You changed your mind, shaking your head. "It's nothing," you murmured, looking away.

Will set his phone down, giving you his full attention. He cupped your chin, turning your face towards him. "Hey, talk to me," he said softly. "You know you can tell me anything."

You took a deep breath, your nerves getting the better of you. "It's just... I was thinking... never mind, it's silly," you rambled, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Will's thumb brushed gently against your cheek. "Nothing you say is silly to me," he reassured you. "Come on, tell me what you were thinking."

You bit your lip, gathering your courage. "I was thinking... maybe we could try something new, something more intimate," you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

Will's eyes widened slightly, curiosity and a hint of nervousness flashing across his face. "Intimate? Like what?" he asked, genuinely intrigued.

You took a deep breath, the words tumbling out before you could change your mind again. "Face riding," you blurted out, your cheeks flushing a deep red.

Will's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he looked taken aback. Then, a slow smile spread across his face as understanding and excitement dawned on him. "Face riding, huh?" he repeated, his voice a mix of surprise and desire.

You nodded, your nerves heightening with anticipation. Will shifted, lying back on the couch and patting his chest. "Come here," he said, his voice low and husky.

You straddled his chest, your heart racing as you felt his warm breath against your thighs. He reached up, cupping your face in his hands, and pulled you down into a deep, passionate kiss. His lips were soft and insistent, his tongue exploring your mouth with a familiar yet thrilling intensity. You moaned softly, melting into him, your hands tangling in his hair.

Will's hands roamed down your body, tracing the curve of your waist, the flare of your hips. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and panties, slowly pulling them down. You lifted your hips to help him, your breath hitching as the cool air hit your exposed skin.

He broke the kiss, his eyes locking onto yours as he tossed your clothes aside. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

You felt a flush of heat spread through you at his words. You shifted your position, inching lower on his body until you were straddling his face. You could feel his hot breath against your most intimate places, and it sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Will's hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. He pulled you down gently, his tongue finding your clit with unerring precision. You gasped, your head falling back as waves of pleasure washed over you. He lapped and sucked, his technique expert and unhurried, drawing out your pleasure with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

You began to move, grinding against his face, your hips rolling in a sensual dance. Will's hands slid up to your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples through your shirt, adding another layer of sensation. You moaned, your body trembling with need.

Will's own desire was evident, his erection straining against his pants. You reached down, your fingers brushing against the bulge, feeling his heat and hardness. He groaned into you, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

You continued to ride his face, your movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. Will's tongue and lips worked in perfect harmony, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel your orgasm building, a coiled spring ready to snap.

"Will," you gasped, your body trembling. "I'm close."

He redoubled his efforts, his tongue and lips working faster, more insistently. You cried out, your body convulsing as you came, your juices coating his face. Will groaned, his own release following shortly after, his body shuddering beneath you.

As you both came down from your high, you collapsed onto the couch beside him, your bodies slick with sweat. Will pulled you into his arms, his face still glistening with the evidence of your pleasure.

"You're incredible," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You smiled, snuggling closer to him. "We make quite the team," you replied, your voice filled with contentment as your eyes fluttered closed.

[wowsmutty]

Fkn woof

George and his dad

[wowsmutty]

Slayed so hard with the george and will headcannons!!! Can we get a George headcannon but specifically him in bed, I love a smutty headcannon!! (If you feel comfortable ofc) ❤️

hiii thank you!!! i don't mind writing smut but i'm a bit out of practice so forgive me if this is not the best 🫶

feeling like this is an absolutely mad thing for me to drop esp after his new video reading fics but #yolo

warnings: nsfw

-> i feel like george would be big on praising you and body worship. you would be showered in compliments constantly and he would never fail to let you know how good you were making him feel.

-> he definitely has two sides to him. one side would be gentle and loving - i'm thinking slow sex where he just wants to be close to you. the other side would be merciless, he would just use you exactly how he wants, probably going hard and deep (allow me to elaborate on this at a later date..).

-> probably gets a little cocky when he realises how much you need him, might even make you beg if he's really feeling it. i reckon he loves to see you on your knees.

-> so easy to tease, he's so painfully attracted to you that if you do anything even remotely sexual (or just generally attractive to him) he gets hot and bothered and is practically begging to be inside you.

-> such a lil cutie when it comes to aftercare, won't let you do a single thing and makes sure you're as comfortable as possible. ensures you spend quality time together after.

-> marking - i don't think he would be big on marking you everywhere. if anywhere, it would be in private spots that only he gets to see (maybe like high up on inside of your thigh). he probably doesn't feel the need to do it often - just when he feels jealous or wants to affirm you are his.

-> loves when you are vocal, knowing he is pleasing you would be so important to him and if making noise is how you show it then he would encourage you to be loud. also i don't think he would be very vocal himself.

-> prefers to be the dominant one but would absolutely lose his shit if you ever wanted to be dominant. having you on top would be rare but that just means that when it happens, he goes absolutely wild for you.

-> hair pulling. i so think that he would love to have his hands tangled in your hair when thrusting into you. might even enjoy inflicting a tiny bit of pain (but nothing extreme, i do think he's more on the vanilla side).

i'm also curious to see what everyone else's thoughts on this matter are.. drop your headcanons and we shall discuss 🙏