You mentioned ukyt dubcon and I just have this thought of being so in love with Will you’d do absolutely anything for him and he takes pure advantage of that!
Im thinking he blindfolds you because “he wants to try it out” “it’ll feel more intense pet” but really he wants to cheer up James after he had a break up so he decides he’ll just let him fuck you instead
this is the most delicious fucking thing i think i've heard...
he secures the blindfold tight and even binds your wrists together so you can't reach out and grab for him, which makes your cunt throb a little but, but unbeknownst to you it's so you won't reach out and feel james instead of your usual boy....
and then and then!!!! once your secured and you feel the weight of a blunt cockhead poking at your entrance, fingertips tweaking your nipples, you notice something feels off, but then will is there murmuring in your ear "'s alright, pet, just take it, yeah?"
the angle is wrong, because will's voice shouldn't be there, and you whine a little - there's a deep hiss as you clench around the cock inside of you, and a hand comes to swipe at your cheek, a thumb dipping past your lips and onto the flat pad of your tongue, and it takes a little sweet, like hand cream, something you know will doesn't wear. something inside of you panics a little - then the thumb is trailing down, down your sternum and stomach and coming to flick at your clit; you moan, unabashed this time, and will is muttering "good girl" by your side, and, fuck, there's just this tightness coiling in your gut and it's not stopping the more the man on top of you fucks into you.
content: 18+! mentions of oral sex, penetration, creampies, breeding kinks, role play, fucking in public & creating homemade adult films 🤭
a/n: everyone, i see you in my asks asking for dom!willne and well i’m here to SERVE okay? you deserve it during this drought x
will the munch. a simple one to start off with. eats pussy like it’s his last meal or he’s been starved his whole life. it doesn’t help that he seems to be an absolute master of the art, knowing exactly how to make you feel good when he goes down on you for the umpteenth time. sometimes he’ll even slip a finger or two in to create some more stimulation for you, causing you to become an absolute mess when you finally come, completely squirting all of his face.
will who loves when you ride him. he love love LOVEEES watching your facial expressions as you hop on his cock. from the way that your eyebrows furrow initially as you try and get comfortable with him inside of you to the way that your lips part and your cheeks flush as the heat of your blood rushes around your body… it’s enough to make his own brain fuzzy. but he also loves the way that he can reach up to your throat, his grip tight as he chokes you. he loves the way you look down at him with wide eyes as he just holds his hand there, unmoving, as you whimper— becoming overwhelmed with the pleasure and adrenaline you’re experiencing.
will who loves causing you to be loud. i think we’ve already established that will loves when you ride him, not only does he love looking at you all fucked out on top of him… but it gives him perfect access to your breasts. he loves slapping them as hard as he can, watching you gasp and writhe— maybe even stutter and break your rhythm whilst you ride him. but GOD, does he love pulling at your nipples. he loves when you’re rolling your hips as he toys with your tits, making them hard before pinching them, pulling them hard causing you to cry out— maybe even make your eyes water a little….
(can you see where this is going?) will who loves to see you cry. there’s nothing hotter to will than seeing you cry because he’s making you feel so good that it brings you to tears. if anything, it makes him want to make you cry more. he loves the way your mascara gets ruined as he pushes himself so deep into you to a place that even yourself didn’t even know existed, making his ego a little bit larger at the same time.
but also will the cream pie addict. will loves fucking you in the ass to be straight to the point. like, he’s addicted to the way you cry into the pillow when it becomes too much… the way his cock just splits you open like it’s nothing— it drives him crazy. he also loves the way that he can easily spank you if you misbehave, AND how his handprint can easily mark your cheek when he does so.
(DARKER THEMES, SKIP IF YOU’RE NOT INTO THIS!!!) this leads me to will and his breeding kink! to be frank, condoms do NOT exist in will’s world. desperately wants to be a father and will do anything to breed you at any chance he gets in bed. hence why he loves creampies so much! he loves the way that he can plug you full of his seed and then push it back into your tight little hole when it even dares to spill out. before muttering about how you’ll be such a good mother for his child.
then there’s will with a fullness kink. oh my god, this man is the epitome of ‘where there’s a hole, there’s a goal’. he’ll have you in a butt plug, riding a dildo as he deep throats you at the same time. he looooves the way you bounce on the dildo, your hands gripping so tightly into his waist to ground you whilst your cheeks are hollowed, gagging on his cock. if you stop riding the dildo however? he’ll pull his cock from your mouth, giving you a slap on the cheek telling you not to stop riding it or he won’t come in your mouth.
we all know how much will is in front of a camera, and i just have this feeling that he likes incorporating that into the bedroom. so, will and his homemade adult film-making addiction! he loves recording you guys fuck. you’ll never understand why, but he loves how creative you can both get. it’s also the fact that if he is filming a video in another country or on something PR related, he’s easily got a little reminder of you and the way you look when you’re fucked out on his cock or fingers or even a toy!
however, more specifically he LOVES when you both do role-plays on film and off film. hence why he’s will the role player. he loves how the limits are endless— and definitely loves when he can be a police officer putting you in cuffs or something of that sort….. you gotta remember that he has got a lot of costumes from old videos that you can both use, after all!
oh and don’t forget will who does not mind a fuck in public. you’re looking hot at a get-together with your friends? he’ll easily drag you into the pub toilets and absolutely ruin you in the cubicle with not shame. hell, he doesn’t even care if he leaves you dishevelled afterwards, if anything he loves the messy look on you. you’re wearing a dress that barely covers your ass or thighs? his hands will be all over those body parts whilst you sit snugly next to him. and he doesn’t even show any emotion when he feels the wet patch growing on your panties as it comes too much for you. what a cruel guy. <3
summary: you and will are driving home late at night after a road trip when the car suddenly breaks down. no cell signal, no one around—just the two of you and a playful way to kill time.
warnings: mature (mdni), public (ish) sex, sex on a car (yes, on) slight degrading if you squint
wc: 4k
a/n: another long one but lord forgive me i cant not include every single detail im working on it. anyway hope you enjoy
tags: @orlaunderrated @willnees <3
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you’d had the best week—really, one of those golden, heart-full kind of weeks that makes everything feel light. you visited your boyfriend, will’s, hometown for a few days, met his family who welcomed you like you’d always been part of the furniture, slept in will’s childhood bedroom, youtube memories from his early career still clinging to the walls, everything soaked in nostalgia.
it had all been amazing—except for the drive.
will, in all his confident, slightly-too-proud glory, had insisted that it would be fun to drive there and back. ‘road trips are romantic’ he’d said, grinning, already mapping out the playlist. and, to be fair, the drive there was fine. better than fine. you left early, sunlight dripping through the windows, singing along to old songs, eating service station snacks, stopping once for a coffee break. you arrived mid-afternoon, the day still stretching ahead of you like a welcome mat.
the drive home, though. that was a different story.
you left late—too late, really. will had wanted to squeeze every last minute out of the visit, and you’d agreed, thinking it would be fine. six hours back, home by midnight. you’d sleep in your own bed, wake up feeling fine.
wrong.
everything that could go wrong, did. first, traffic. thick, unmoving traffic that clung to the motorway like syrup. red brake lights in a sea of stillness. an accident ahead, apparently, but no updates. after an hour and a half of waiting, will made the executive decision: take the back roads. ‘quieter’ he’d said. ‘we’ll save time.’
you weren’t sure when exactly the sky had gone from dusky blue to full black, but now it was pitch dark, and the road you were on had no lights—just trees pressing in on both sides, tall and quiet and vaguely menacing. the radio had long given up trying to find signal, and your phones had followed suit: no service.
then, like a cruel joke, the car stuttered. once. twice. then nothing.
a soft, mechanical sigh, and silence.
you both sat there, blinking, waiting for it to come back to life. it didn’t.
so now here you are: seven hours into what was supposed to be a six-hour drive, still two hours from home, parked half on the grass shoulder of some barely paved country road that probably hasn’t seen another car in hours. there’s no service, no light except for the stars and the dim interior car light. it’s quiet—not the peaceful kind, but the eerie, empty kind that makes you feel like you’ve slipped off the edge of the map.
and it’s hot. hotter than you expected for a british summer night.
you glance over at will. he’s frowning at the steering wheel like he can will the car to work again with sheer frustration. you want to be mad—you are mad, a little—but mostly you’re just tired. the kind of tired that makes everything feel a bit unreal, like maybe you’ll wake up in your bed after all and laugh about the dream where you broke down in the middle of nowhere.
but you don’t. you’re still here.
you both stepped out of the car, gasping for fresh air, hoping that the signal would be better outside — it wasn’t.
he muttered something under his breath—sharp, clipped—barely more than a growl as he jabbed at his phone screen. the glow lit up his face in the dark, highlighting the tight set of his jaw, the way his brows were drawn together in pure frustration.
‘come on, come on,’ he hissed, lifting the phone slightly in the air like an inch of altitude might magically summon a signal. his thumb hovered over the screen, thumbed the redial button again. nothing.
‘fuck’s sake,’ he muttered, voice low but heated, pacing a tight little circle in the gravel just beside the car. ‘absolute bullshit. middle of nowhere, twenty-first century, and there’s still no bloody signal.’
he turned the screen toward you like he needed you to see it—blank, empty bars, not even a flicker of a connection. you didn’t say anything. you just watched from where you were perched on the bonnet, arms folded across your chest, the air flowing through the thin fabric of your dress
he redialed again. held the phone up. squinted. nothing.
‘fucking useless,’ he snapped, slamming the phone down on the roof of the car with more force than necessary. it clattered against the metal, the sound ringing too loud in the still air. he didn’t look at you right away, just dragged a hand down his face and exhaled hard through his nose.
you stayed quiet, the weight of the situation settling heavier with every minute that ticked by. he hated not being able to fix things, hated feeling helpless. you could see it in the way he stood—tense, coiled energy barely held in check, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
‘we’re not even that far from the next town,’ he muttered to himself. ‘ten, maybe fifteen minutes… if we could just—’ he stopped himself, teeth pressing into his bottom lip.
you knew he was trying. trying to keep his cool, trying to figure something out. but every option led to a dead end, and it was eating at him.
finally, he looked at you, eyes still stormy with frustration, but softer around the edges now. like he hated that you were caught in this too.
‘i’m sorry,’ he said again, quieter this time. ‘i’ve ruined it, i’m so sorry’
you offered a small nod, the tiniest of smiles pulling at your lips.
‘i know.’
and still, the road stayed silent. no cars. no lights. just the two of you and the stubborn dark, pressing in from all sides.
he moved away from the bonnet, positioning himself between your legs like he belonged there—because he did. his hands found your hips without hesitation, tugging you gently forward until you were right at the edge of the car, your knees parting instinctively to make room for him. his fingers gripped your waist, not tight, but firm—possessive in that quiet, wordless way that made your breath hitch. he tilted your chin up with a single knuckle, and your eyes met his in the low light.
‘hi,’ you murmured, barely above a whisper. your voice felt fragile in the night air.
he let out that quiet laugh of his—the one that puffed out through his nose more than his mouth, a soft huff laced with something fond. something dangerous.
‘hi, gorgeous,’ he said, and he didn’t say it like it was just a greeting. he said it like it was a claim.
then he kissed you—slow, deep, and grounding. there was no rush, no hesitancy, just the heat of his mouth and the way his hands pressed a little harder into your hips like he was reminding you who you belonged to. it wasn’t just affection—it was apology, promise, and possession all folded into one kiss that curled your toes and made your hands clutch at the front of his hoodie.
when he finally pulled back, his lips were pink and slightly swollen, eyes dark and unreadable.
‘you trying to pass time?’ you asked, voice lighter, teasing.
he smirked, and the grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly, pulling you forward so your thighs pressed snugly against him.
‘i mean,’ he said, leaning in until his lips just brushed yours again, ‘why not?’
his hands slid down, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, thumbs hooking into the hem of your dress as it inched slowly upward. your breath caught as cool air hit your thighs, his touch featherlight but deliberate. it was enough to make your skin prickle, nerves lighting up under his fingertips.
‘will,’ you whispered, breath shaky, ‘we can’t… not here. what if someone drives past?’
he chuckled again—low, amused, confident—and nuzzled against your neck, lips trailing kisses that burned despite the cold. his voice vibrated against your skin, slow and smug.
‘we’ve been on this road for an hour, baby,’ he murmured, pausing to nip gently at the spot just below your jaw. ‘no cars. no people. just us. if someone drives past now, i’ll be genuinely impressed.’
his hand slipped further up your thigh, coaxing your legs a little wider, and his other hand came up to cradle your jaw, tilting your face back so you were forced to look at him. his eyes were dark, pupils wide, and there was a glint there that made your stomach twist.
‘c’mon, sweet,’ he said, voice low and coaxing but with an edge that brokered no argument. ‘let’s have a bit of fun. don’t let this week end on a miserable note.’
his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, slow, deliberate.
‘i know you want to,’ he added, tone darker now, like a challenge, like he already knew the answer. ‘you gonna let me make it up to you?’
you swallowed hard, your body already leaning into his, heart pounding like it was trying to escape your chest. your brain was screaming logic, but your body? your body was already his.
your hands moved up slowly, fingertips brushing against the back of his neck before sinking into the curls at the base of his skull—soft, familiar. you tugged gently, guiding his face back to yours, your noses brushing for the briefest moment before your lips caught his.
you kissed him deeply, with the kind of urgency that only builds from silence, frustration, and too much time spent waiting. it was an answer—the answer—wordless and certain, your fingers curling tighter into his hair as you pressed your mouth against his.
he exhaled hard through his nose, like he’d been holding his breath this whole time, and kissed you back with a roughness that made your stomach drop. his hand moved instantly, confidently—back to your waist, gripping hard enough to make you gasp.
‘good girl,’ he murmured against your mouth, voice low, laced with heat and satisfaction. his tone shifted—no longer coaxing or playful, but in control now, like a switch had flipped. like now that he had permission, he wasn’t going to take his time.
you were both more than a little touch starved after spending the week at his childhood home—crammed together every night in his too-small single bed, limbs tangled, holding each other close but never daring to cross the line with his family just down the hall. the tension built quietly, simmering under shared glances and late-night whispers. you don’t know exactly when he decided he wanted to fuck you on the hood of his car, but when the engine gave out in the middle of nowhere, no signal, no lights but the stars—well, it felt like the perfect moment. honestly, you both needed the release.
he adjusted his stance, stepping in tighter between your legs, then pushed you back slowly onto the bonnet, one firm hand guiding you down by your waist, the warm metal humming under your back.
his eyes dragged down your body, dark and deliberate. he hiked your skirt up, bunching it around your hips without hesitation, revealing your thin black thong, the lace barely covering anything. he let out a low sound in the back of his throat—half groan, half approval.
‘fuck, look at you,’ he muttered, almost to himself, dragging two fingers along the waistband before tugging it to the side, exposing you completely.
the air hit you cold, but his fingers followed immediately—warm and practiced, tracing over your slit before circling your clit with slow, measured pressure that made your legs twitch.
you whimpered softly, hips shifting instinctively toward his touch, and that made him smile—crooked and dark and just a little cruel. ‘needy already?’ he said, tone mocking but affectionate. ‘we’ve barely started.’
his fingers moved with more intent now, teasing circles around your clit before sliding lower, dipping between your folds, spreading your wetness deliberately. he watched your face as he pushed two fingers inside—slow, but deep—curling them slightly to press against just the right spot.
you moaned, head falling back against the cool windshield behind you, the sound spilling into the still night like a secret.
he leaned over you, free hand braced on the bonnet beside your head, his breath hot against your throat as he began thrusting his fingers steadily, every movement deliberate.
‘keep your eyes on me,’ he said, voice low but firm, thumb brushing over your clit again as his fingers worked inside you. ‘i wanna see you fall apart.’
you did as you were told. because it was will. and because when he looked at you like that—like you were the only thing that mattered—you couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
his eyes never left yours—dark, commanding, fixed on your face like he was memorising every little shift, every flutter of your lashes, every shaky breath you took. his fingers moved with purpose now, curling deep with each thrust, his thumb pressing in tight, perfect circles against your clit, dragging you closer to the edge with no intention of slowing down.
‘that’s it,’ he murmured, voice low and rough, his breath fanning hot across your cheek. ‘so fucking pretty like this. taking it so well for me.’
your hips bucked involuntarily, legs trembling on either side of him. he didn’t let up. if anything, he doubled down—thrusting his fingers harder, pressing his thumb with just a little more pressure, knowing exactly what your body needed without you saying a word.
‘you’re so close, aren’t you?’ he said, his tone dark with satisfaction. ‘feel you tightening around my fingers already. you gonna come for me, sweetheart?’
your only answer was a broken gasp, your head falling back against the bonnet with a thud, mouth parted, eyes fluttering shut despite his earlier order.
he leaned in closer, lips brushing your ear, voice like gravel and silk all at once.
‘eyes on me. now.’
your gaze snapped to his, wide, dazed, desperate—and that earned you a low groan of approval.
‘good girl.’
his pace didn’t falter. slick sounds filled the quiet night, his hand working between your thighs, dragging every twitch, every moan, every helpless whimper from you like it was owed.
‘let go,’ he whispered. he pressed deep, curling his fingers again, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes ‘right on my fucking fingers.’
your body seized, back arching against the bonnet, fingers scrambling for something to hold onto.
‘that’s it—come for me. now.’
and you did.
your orgasm ripped through you like a wave, white-hot and blinding, your mouth falling open around a soundless cry as your body shuddered beneath him. his fingers never stopped, coaxing you through it, dragging out every last pulse of pleasure until you were twitching, breathless, legs shaking around his wrist.
he finally slowed, easing his fingers out gently, his touch soft now, careful. your eyes were glassy, chest rising and falling in uneven bursts as you tried to come back to yourself.
he smirked down at you, dragging his fingers through your slick once more, then raising them to his mouth, sucking one clean with a low hum of satisfaction.
‘fuck, you taste good,’ he murmured, then leaned down to kiss you—slow, deep, possessive—like he hadn’t just ruined you against the hood of a broken-down car in the middle of nowhere.
his hands snaked behind your back, strong and unrelenting, gripping your waist as he pulled you upright from the bonnet. your legs were still a little shaky, your breath ragged, but he held you steady. his mouth was right at your ear when he spoke again, voice low and commanding.
‘up now baby, turn around.’
there was no hesitation.
you turned slowly and placed your palms flat against the still-warm surface of the car, bending at the waist. the metal beneath your fingertips vibrated faintly from the cooling engine, grounding you as you settled into position. your back arched instinctively, dress bunched up over your hips, lace thong still pulled aside, your skin completely exposed to the cold night air.
behind you, will let out a dark, appreciative hum.
‘fuck, look at you,’ he muttered, more to himself than to you.
you heard the familiar sound—his belt unfastening, the soft metal clink of it slipping through the loops. the shuffle of fabric as he pushed his jeans down just enough.
you tried to glance over your shoulder, needing to see him, but his hand found the back of your head before you could get a proper look. his fingers slid into your hair, wrapping around the strands near the base of your neck. he didn’t yank, didn’t pull, just guided your head back down, forcing your gaze forward.
‘don’t move,’ he said quietly. ‘eyes forward. you don’t get to watch. you get to feel.’
his grip was firm—controlled, unshakable—the kind of grip that sent a hot pulse straight through your core.
and then you felt him.
the slow press of his tip at your entrance, teasing just barely, dragging across your folds like he had all the time in the world. your body arched further in anticipation, needing him to stop playing, to take.
‘you feel so dirty right now, don’t you?’ he murmured, his tone dark and laced with smug satisfaction. he leaned over you, chest brushing against your back. ‘bent over the bonnet of my car… ass in the air… getting fucked in the middle of nowhere like it’s exactly where you belong.’
you opened your mouth to speak, to protest, to agree—but you didn’t get the chance.
he thrust in hard, burying himself deep in a single, ruthless motion that stole the breath right out of your lungs.
you cried out, the sound caught between a moan and a gasp, echoing into the open air, swallowed by the wind. your hands braced against the bonnet as he pulled back and drove into you again—fast, relentless.
his grip tightened in your hair, keeping you still, keeping you his, and his other hand slid over your hip, holding you in place like you might try to escape—though you never would. not from this. not from him.
‘so fucking tight,’ he growled, each word a punch of air against your ear. ‘like your body knows who it belongs to.’
he set a brutal rhythm, every thrust driving you forward slightly on the metal surface, his hips snapping against you with precision, with intent. and all you could do was take it—every thrust, every word, every ounce of control he held over your body in that moment.
any fear, any flicker of anxiety about being so exposed—bent over a car in the open air, skin bare to the night, moaning into the wind—was long gone, driven out of you with every punishing thrust of his hips.
it didn’t matter anymore. not the road. not the silence. not the risk.
whatever concern you’d had about someone driving past, about being caught like this—blatantly, shamelessly his—was gone. burned away by the way he moved inside you, how he owned every inch of your body without apology.
his grip on your hip tightened, his other hand still buried in your hair, keeping you pinned in place as he thrust into you with relentless, bruising rhythm. the wet slap of skin against skin echoed in the night, shameless and loud, and still—no one came. no cars. no headlights. just the two of you, lost in it.
you could feel it building again—heat curling low in your belly, your legs shaking, your moans coming quicker now, raw and breathless. he knew. of course he knew.
he leaned in over your back, his chest flush against you, his mouth finding your ear again.
‘you gonna come for me again, sweet girl?’ he murmured, voice strained now, rougher, breath catching just slightly on the edges. ‘gonna let me feel you lose it all over my cock?’
you whimpered something between yes and please, your head nodding slightly under his grip.
‘that’s it,’ he growled, pace never faltering, driving you closer and closer to the edge. ‘don’t hold back. i want every bit of it. make a mess on me—just like that.’
his fingers slipped down between your thighs again, finding your clit with practiced ease, rubbing tight, filthy circles as he kept thrusting into you, faster now, his own breathing sharp and uneven.
the pressure inside you snapped—your orgasm crashing through you in waves, your body going rigid beneath him before it trembled uncontrollably. you cried out into the night, your voice broken and raw, every nerve alight, clenching around him so hard it dragged a deep, guttural moan from his chest.
‘fuck—’ he bit out, hips stuttering for the first time. ‘fuck, baby—just like that. god, you feel so—’
he didn’t finish the sentence. didn’t need to.
he spilled into you moments later, his grip bruising on your ass, forehead resting against the back of your neck as he rode out every last pulse of it, both of you breathless, spent, your bodies tangled in sweat and heat and satisfaction.
for a long moment, neither of you moved.
just the sound of your breathing, the creak of cooling metal beneath you, the stillness of the world beyond.
and then will finally let out a low, shaky breath, kissed the side of your shoulder, and murmured against your skin:
‘well… if no one comes to fix this car, at least we found a decent way to kill the time.’ he chuckled, breath hitting your neck.
the air was still heavy, warm with the lingering haze of what had just happened. will rested against your back for another moment, one hand smoothing gently over your hip now, his earlier dominance softened into something quieter, more tender. he pressed a kiss to your shoulder—slow and grounding—before pulling back.
‘you alright?’ he murmured, breath ghosting over your skin.
you nodded, still half-draped over the bonnet, your legs shaky but your body loose, boneless. satisfied.
‘mhm,’ you managed, eyes fluttering shut for a second. ‘i don’t think i’ll ever look at your car the same way again.’
he laughed—low, breathy, real. the kind that warmed your chest.
‘good,’ he said. ‘was hoping to leave an impression.’
he stepped back, tucking himself in, buckling his belt with quick movements, and then reached for you, helping you up with a gentle pull. your legs wobbled slightly when you stood, and he caught you easily, his hands finding your waist like second nature.
‘steady,’ he smirked. ‘might’ve overdone it a little.’
you gave him a tired, teasing glare as you tugged your skirt back down, smoothing it out with half-hearted swipes. your hair was a mess, your lips kiss-swollen, your thighs sticky—but none of it mattered. not right now.
will turned to grab his hoodie from the front seat, offering it to you wordlessly. you took it, pulling it over your head, drowning in the scent of him.
just as he was leaning against the car again, pulling out his phone out of sheer habit, he froze.
‘no fucking way,’ he muttered, staring down at the screen.
you blinked at him. ‘what?’
he turned the phone toward you.
one bar. not much. but it was something.
you both stared at it like it might disappear again, holding your breath.
he quickly hit redial. the phone rang. once, twice—then clicked.
‘yes! hi—yeah, we’ve broken down, no signal until just now. yeah—yeah, we’re fine. just… need someone to come out. soon as possible.’
you smiled to yourself as he gave the details of your whereabouts, voice calm and clipped now, all business. his free hand found yours, fingers lacing together like they always did—easily, naturally.
when he hung up, he looked over at you, brow raised.
‘help’s on the way. about thirty minutes, they said.’
you leaned into his side, your head resting against his shoulder.
aftercare with chris is deeply affectionate but never overbearing. he teases you all the time, but the second you’re spent and soft beneath him, he’s gentle. kisses your forehead, grabs a warm towel, murmurs things like “you good, baby?” while rubbing circles on your hip. he’ll pull you onto his chest and stroke your back until you fall asleep. if you ever need reassurance, he’s already giving it—quiet, real, and constant.
b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
on you: your neck. he’s obsessed. always leaving kisses there, always dragging his teeth gently over your skin like he wants to mark you. he lives for the way you shiver when he breathes against it.
on himself: his hands. he knows what they do to you. watches you go wide-eyed when he flexes them, rests one on your thigh and smirks when you press closer. they’re strong, sure, and he knows how to use them.
c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
chris is messy. unashamedly, deliciously messy. he likes seeing it -dripping from your thighs, smeared on your stomach, catching on your lips. it’s visual, it’s his, and he’s lowkey obsessed with the aftermath. his favorite? pulling out last second and finishing all over you while panting, then leaning down with a smug, “look at that. so fuckin’ hot.” but he’ll clean you up after, whispering sweet nothings while he does.
d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
he secretly wants you to dominate him - just once. not full-time, not all the time. but enough to flip the script. pin him down. make him wait. tease him until he’s whining your name and twitching under your touch. he gets off on the idea of losing control, of being at your mercy while you take what you want. it’s buried under all that confidence, but it’s there. and it’s loud.
e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
chris knows what he’s doing. he's been around. but he's careful with that confidence—never cocky, just capable. he reads your body like a language and gets better every time. every sound you make, every time you clench around him—he takes notes. fast learner, deeply focused.
f = favorite position (this goes without saying)
doggy. he loves the view, the way he can grip your hips, pull you back into him, go deep and rough while you moan into the pillow. he’s obsessed with watching you arch your back, with the way your breath catches every time he changes the angle. that sound you make when he grabs your waist? he lives for it.
g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
he can be. especially in the buildup. teasing comments, cheeky grins, maybe a “you look desperate already, babe” with a wink. but when things get hot? he’s locked in. voice drops, eyes darken, and all the playfulness turns to focus. he knows when to stop joking and start ruining you.
h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
well-groomed. keeps things tidy. likes a little hair but nothing wild. same with you—he doesn’t care what you do with yours, as long as he’s invited to be between your thighs regardless.
i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
when he’s in love? he’s so intimate. keeps your face close to his, says your name like it’s a prayer, whispers soft praise into your skin. even when it’s rough, there’s a tenderness underneath. he wants to be close to you. always. it’s not just about the high—it’s about you.
j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)
he does it—especially when he's away or you're teasing him too hard. he’s visual, uses vids or your photos (the private ones you send at 1am when you miss him). he groans your name when he finishes. then immediately texts you something filthy and needy.
k = kink (one or more of their kinks)
he’s into teasing, praise, a little control play. loves when you need him. when you whimper, beg, pull at his shirt. also into mutual masturbation—watching you get off while he does is a scene for him. lowkey has a thing for lingerie and seeing you in his hoodie with nothing underneath.
l = location (favorite places to do the do)
the bedroom is ideal, but chris gets ideas. he’s done it in the backseat of a car, a quiet stairwell, even once in the dressing room of a store. he loves the risk. the thrill. especially when you wear a skirt and give him that look.
m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
your voice. your laugh. the way you bite your lip or roll your eyes at him. any outfit that hugs your waist. you sitting in his lap and acting like it’s innocent. he gets worked up so easily, especially if you act like you’re not trying to.
n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
he won’t do anything degrading or that makes you uncomfortable. hard no to anything involving pain beyond light spanking or rough grip. if it crosses a line, he’s out. respect first, always.
o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
he’s obsessed with giving. obsessed. buries his face between your thighs like he was made for it. moans into you. grips your thighs. won’t stop until you’re pulling his hair and crying his name. he likes receiving too, but giving? that’s his religion.
p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
he can go slow and teasing or rough and fast depending on the mood. either way, he keeps it steady and deep. he likes dragging it out, watching you squirm, then flipping the switch when you beg.
q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
absolutely down. especially if you’re in public and whisper something filthy in his ear. he gets hard instantly. fast and messy in the bathroom or car, hand over your mouth, whispering, “quiet, baby, or they’ll hear.”
r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
he likes taking risks. semi-public, toys, mirror play, blindfolds - he’ll try most things once. if you bring up a fantasy? he’ll listen, then make it happen. no shame, just curiosity and confidence.
s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
he can go for multiple rounds, especially if you keep teasing him. one round? not likely. two? standard. three? depends how badly he wants to prove himself (spoiler: it’s often).
t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
yes and yes. loves using toys on you - vibrators, plugs, handcuffs. he gets off on making you fall apart. also into remote-control toys in public. the little remote stays in his pocket, and the smirk never leaves his face.
u = unfair (how much they like to tease)
very. teases you until you’re begging. will edge you for fun just to see how long you can take it. says things like “not yet, darling” while you’re whining under him.
v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
low groans, deep moans, breathy curses. he talks a lot - dirty, praise, commands. growls, “just like that, baby,” and “fuck, you feel so good.” gets louder the closer he gets.
w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
he’s filmed you before. not to share. never that. but just once, on his phone, with your permission - grainy footage of you riding him, his hand gripping your hip, both of you moaning like it’s your last night on earth. he watches it when he misses you. or when he needs to feel you.
x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
he’s thick. above average length, but it’s the girth that ruins you. curved just right. when he pushes in, you feel every inch. leaves you sore, satisfied, and thinking about it for days.
y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
very high. he thinks about sex a lot. especially when you’re around. he’s always touching you, kissing your neck, running a hand down your back like he’s deciding whether to be good or ruin your night.
z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
he doesn’t fall asleep right away. holds you close, murmurs sleepy compliments, traces your skin with his fingers. eventually crashes, but not before making sure you’re warm, clean, and tucked in against him.
taglist: @themdera @beanhardy (sorry if you didnt want to be tagged, i can remove you, if you want - i'm just assuming you did based on your reactions from when i revealed i was writing this.)
harry is chaotic until the very end, but the second you’re spent, he’s all softness. runs his hand up and down your spine, murmurs, “you good, love?” and presses messy kisses to your shoulder. he’s not always the most organized, but he’ll grab you water, throw you one of his hoodies, and cuddle you like you’re his entire world.
b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
on you: your tits. he’s obsessed. will bury his face in them, kiss them for no reason, hold them in his hands like they’re custom-made. they’re his emotional support system.
on himself: his arms. he doesn’t say it, but he likes the way you react when he flexes or lifts you effortlessly. he pretends not to notice. he notices.
c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
harry is a mess. he likes cumming on you, in you, over you - anywhere. he finds it so hot, so primal. always groans, “fuck, look at you,” like you’re the most unreal thing he’s ever seen. might slap your thigh and mutter, “took it so good for me,” with a breathless grin.
d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
he’s lowkey into being filmed. not for posting - just private stuff. the idea of watching you ride him on his phone? it ruins him. he’s thought about asking, probably has the camera set up “just in case,” but he’s waiting for the right moment.
e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
he’s not always smooth, but he knows how to make you feel good. he’s more instinctive than calculated - he learns what works by doing, and he’s got a very responsive partner radar. might make a joke mid-session but then knock the air out of your lungs five seconds later.
f = favorite position (this goes without saying)
prone bone. flat on your stomach, hips raised just enough, his body draped over yours. he loves the weight of it, the closeness, the way you whimper when he grinds in deep. it’s intimate, it’s filthy, it’s his. he’ll kiss your neck and murmur, “you’re mine, yeah?” while fucking you slow and deep.
g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
he’s so goofy sometimes. can’t help but crack a joke, especially if something slips or a noise is weird. but when he’s close? voice gets low, hands tighten, the whole mood shifts. he’s fun - but when it’s serious, he delivers.
h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
trims for hygiene, but nothing fancy. he’s chill about it. same goes for you - he’s into whatever, as long as he can get his face down there.
i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
harry’s secretly a romantic. he’ll kiss you everywhere, hold your face while he moves inside you, whisper your name like it’s sacred. even when he’s rough, there’s something soft in how he touches you - like he means every second.
j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)
yep. often. and shamelessly. sometimes even after you’ve left the room. uses his imagination or your pics if he’s feeling needy. always groans your name when he finishes, then texts you something horny five minutes later like nothing happened.
k = kink (one or more of their kinks)
hair pulling. oral fixation. loves watching your face while he wrecks you. a bit of a size kink - he likes how small you are under him. also: spanking. not too rough, but he likes the sound and the way you gasp.
l = location (favorite places to do the do)
bedroom is the default, but he’s down anywhere. sofa, car, hotel bathroom. loves the idea of someone almost hearing you. once had a fantasy about doing it in the changing room of a sports store.
m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
you biting your lip. you teasing him. you calling him “good boy” with that tone. if you ever wear his boxers or a crop top? game over. he’s rock hard and ready in seconds.
n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
anything mean-spirited. no degradation, no cruelty. he’s filthy, not harsh. also not into anything too clinical - he likes it raw and real.
o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
he’s obsessed with giving. will stay between your legs until you’re shaking, then smirk like he’s proud of himself. getting his dick sucked? yeah, he loves it. especially when you’re looking up at him, eyes glassy, his hand in your hair.
p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
usually fast and hard. wants to hear skin slapping, you moaning, the bed creaking. but he can go slow - if he’s feeling emotional or if you ask. and when he does? he’s surprisingly tender.
q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
absolutely down. always horny. the kind to grab your wrist and drag you into the nearest room if you so much as look at him a certain way. his favorite? bent over the bathroom counter, hand over your mouth.
r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
yup. always open to trying something once. loves new toys, new positions, new places. might pretend to be chill about it, but secretly loves when you ask him to try something bold.
s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
can go at least two or three rounds if you let him. might not last long the first time if you wind him up, but he bounces back quick. stamina king with a hunger to match.
t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
yep. loves using toys on you. vibrators, plugs, handcuffs - he gets off on seeing you overstimulated and twitching. will 100% hold a vibe to your clit while whispering, “be good for me, yeah?”
u = unfair (how much they like to tease)
ruthless. especially when he knows you’re close. he’ll pull back just to hear you whine. will pause inside you just to smirk and ask, “you want it that bad, huh?”
v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
very vocal. moans, curses, praises you like you’re the hottest thing alive. says your name like it’s his favorite song. when he’s close? all breathy gasps and a desperate, “fuck, baby- gonna cum.”
w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
once came just from you grinding on him fully clothed. you didn’t even realize until he groaned into your neck and went red. he never lived it down. you still tease him. he still lets you.
x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
lengthy and curved slightly upward. not overly thick, but enough to stretch you perfectly. pretty dick. veiny. he loves when you praise it.
y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
stupidly high. he’s down almost 24/7. will wake you up hard. will grab your waist in the kitchen. everything you do makes him want you.
z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
he talks a bit after. cuddles you. might scroll his phone for a bit with one arm around you. eventually passes out mid-sentence, face smushed against your chest, completely blissed out.
summary : in which you do the ‘i cant help pay the bills trend’ on your boyfriend, chris
a/n : sorry for there not being the inside part3, idk when it’ll be out because i have so many little one shot ideas rn but yeah! also og idea goes to @georgeclarkeys thank you for letting me use your idea!🫶🏼 this is quite short but i hope it’s okay x
content : established relationship ,, innuendos & chris being dirty
─────── THE SOUND OF the tv played throughout the apartment as you shared the sofa space with Arthur Hill. George was currently out on a date with someone and Chris was doing some sort of content filming in his room, so you gave him the space he needed and yourself in the living room.
Some crappy soap was playing, neither of you paying attention to it as you were both scrolling on your phones.
Your doomscrolling came to an intriguing end as Faith’s tiktok video game up, one of her telling Ethan she couldn’t contribute to the bills for the month, resulting in him just kind of blankly staring at her and laughing.
You turned your phone to Arthur, “What if I did this on Chris?”
He chuckled and nodded, “Please do it.”
You smirked mischievously, standing up off the couch and shuffling towards Chris’ room. Your fluffy sock-clad feet slipped along the wooden floor smoothly and you knocked.
“Yeah?!”
You started recording on your phone, making sure the flash was off and opened the door, “Chris? I just need to talk to you about something.”
“Yeah, sure, lovely.” He removed his headset so that it was resting around his neck and looked up at you with full interest.
“I just needed to tell you that I can’t help pay the bills this month.” You muttered, playing the ashamed, bashful role incredibly well.
Chris blinked up at you with a blank look on his face, “Uh … what?”
“The bills. I don’t have enough money to put towards the bills, so I’ll just do it for next month instead.”
He snorted, covering his mouth with his knuckles, “Sorry, when have you ever helped pay the bills?”
“Well …” Shit. He was right. And that wasn’t because you were selfish and made him pay, no. It was because he was adamant that you didn’t need to spend a penny on the bills, not when he was already ‘rolling in it’. His words, not yours. “I wanted to start.”
“Yeah, and I’ve already told you I’m not letting you.” Chris laughed, not taking this seriously at all.
“Chris, it’s not funny.” You suppressed your own laughter, “I can’t contribute any money.”
This time, he actually cackled at your whiny voice, “You have never paid the bills on this apartment in our entire relationship, why do you think I would suddenly care if you have no money to help contribute?”
“I just thought I’d tell you.” You shrugged.
“Okay, well don’t.” He sassed, “Just shush, yeah? I don’t expect you—“
“Chris!” You gasped at his attitude, chuckling slightly.
“What?!” His voice raised slightly in a playful manner, “What do you want me to do, bend you over my knee and spank you? Like, what?”
“Okay, well now you’re being inappropriate.” You huffed with fake dramatics, glancing down at your phone, making sure his face was in frame.
“You’d like it though.” Chris smirked, hands moving back to his headset, “Can I go back to editing this video now so that I can pay the bills so you don’t have to?”
“You’re too sassy.” You grumbled, walking out and stopping the recording.
You skipped back over to the sofa and replayed the video to Arthur, who laughed at it and told you to post it, which you did, making sure to tag Chris.
comments:
chrismd.official ffs i should’ve known
↳ willne it’s your own fault for not noticing the massive fucking phone in her hand. it’s bright blue lad.
↳ chrismd.official too distracted by her beautiful face x
↳ yourusername ergh…
user1 i love her she’s so funny☠️
user2 HELP? THE SPANKING THING???
user3 it’s so obvious they get down and dirty, despite him being a tiny little man
↳ yourusername he does it on stilts
↳ chrismd.official it’s just not true though is it
↳ georgeclarkeey he has a little trampoline to help him get up on the bed, i’ve seen it in their wardrobe
user4 iconic couple
user5 surprised he found someone shorter than him to be honest with you
↳ yourusername im pushing 6’0
↳ arthurhill69 you’re 5’3
user6 chris’ search history a year ago: ‘how to get the girl that’s shorter than me, funnier than me and hotter than me’
faithlouisak why do men always get so sexual with it😒😒
↳ yourusername men☕️
↳ behzinga ????
↳ chrismd.official what??
user7 ‘okay well dont’ gosh why is he part of the sassy man apocalypse
- 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.’
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.”
