୨⎯𝑽𝒊𝒄𝒆 ➛ 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑳𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒚⎯୧
summary: you have to resort to asking your roommate to help you out when he gets you desperate and needy | Will x fem!reader
notes: part 2 to perv rooommate will! I kinda love him... original au idea borrowed from @lenneyswhore ! thank u ellie <3
content: 3.7k wc, perv roommate!will, kinda mean!will, light coercion, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), degradation, praise, rough treatment
Part 1!
The next morning, you woke up in your own bed with no memory of how you got there. Your body ached in unfamiliar places, a pleasant soreness between your thighs that made heat flood your face as the memories came rushing back.
Oh god. Oh god, what did you do?
You’d let Will fuck you. More than that – you’d begged for it. The humiliation should have been overwhelming, but instead, all you could think about was how good it had felt, how completely he’d taken you apart.
You avoided him that morning, slipping out early for work before he woke up. But you couldn’t avoid him forever – you lived together, after all.
When you finally saw him that evening in the kitchen, he acted like nothing had happened. Casual, friendly, normal. It threw you completely off balance.
“Hey,” he said, glancing up from his phone with an easy smile. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” you managed to squeak out, your voice higher than usual. “Good. It was good.”
“That’s good.” His eyes lingered on you for just a moment too long, and you felt your face heat. Then he went back to his phone like you weren’t even there.
That became the pattern over the next few days. Will acted completely normal – except for the little moments that made your breath catch.
A hand on the small of your back as he moved past you in the narrow hallways, his body pressing close for just a second longer than necessary.
“Excuse me,” he’d murmur, his breath warm against your ear, and you’d freeze, unable to move until he was already gone.
Or the way he’d look at you sometimes, his gaze heavy and knowing, like he could see right through your clothes to the body he’d already claimed. He’d hold eye contact until you looked away first, flustered, and you’d catch the smirk tugging at his lips.
He started walking around shirtless more often, baggy joggers hanging low on his hips, his lean muscles on display, and you tried not to stare but you could feel him watching you watch him.
“See something you like?” he asked once, catching you looking, and you’d stammered out some excuse and fled to your room while his low chuckle followed you down the hall.
The worst was when he’d sit next to you on the sofa, close enough that his thigh pressed against yours, and act like it was completely innocent. He’d stretch his arm along the back of the sofa behind you, not quite touching but close enough that you were hyper aware of his presence.
“You seem tense,” he’d comment, his fingers playing with a strand of your hair. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” you’d lie, your whole body wound tight with need.
“You sure? You know you can talk to me about anything.” His voice was so sincere, so caring, but his eyes told a different story. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.
He never brought up what happened. Never mentioned it, never tried to initiate anything again. Just kept up the causal touches, the heavy looks, the innocent comments that felt anything but.
It was driving you insane.
You couldn’t stop thinking about it. About him. About the way he’d made you feel, the way he’d taken control so completely. You’d replay it in your mind at night, your hand wandering between your legs before you snatched it away, refusing to touch yourself to the thought of him.
But it got too much. You needed to do something
After a particular torturous week of Will’s teasing – he’d “accidentally” walked in on you changing, his eyes raking over your half-naked body before he apologised and left with that infuriating smirk – you decided you needed to take matters into your own hands.
You waited until he left for drinks with his friends, then went to your bedside drawer where you kept your toys.
It was empty.
You stared at the drawer in confusion, then pulled it all the way out, checking behind it. Nothing. You checked your other drawers, under your bed, in your wardrobe. All your toys were gone – your vibrator, your dildo, everything.
What the fuck?
You sat on your bed, frustration building to an unbearable level. You needed release, needed something, anything, and now even that option was taken from you.
It didn’t occur to you to wonder how they’d disappeared. You were too desperate, too wound up from days of Will’s teasing, to think clearly. To even come up with the possibility in your head that someone had taken them.
The next few days were torture. Will continued his casual torment, seemingly oblivious to your growing desperation. But you caught him watching you sometimes with a look of dark amusement, like he was waiting for something.
You tried to handle it yourself, you really did, but your fingers weren’t enough anymore. Nothing was enough. You’d gotten a taste of what real pleasure could be like, and now everything else felt hollow.
By the end of the second week, you were ready to crawl out of your skin. You couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think about anything except the ache between your legs that wouldn’t go away.
It was late on Friday night when you finally caved.
You’d been lying in bed for hours, unable to sleep, your body thrumming with need. You’d tried everything – your hands, the shower head, even humping your pillow in desperation – but nothing worked. You needed more, needed what only he could give you.
The thought of going to him, of admitting how desperate you were, made you want to die of embarrassment. But the alternative – lying here in frustrated agony – was worse.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you got up and padded across the hall to his room. Your hand shook as you raised it to knock.
The sound seemed impossibly loud in the quiet apartment. For a moment, nothing happened, and you almost turned and ran back to your room. But then:
“Come in.”
His voice was casual, unsurprised, like he’d been expecting you.
You opened the door slowly. Will was lying in bed, propped up against his pillows with his phone in his hand. He was shirtless, the covers pooled around his waist, and the sight made your mouth go dry.
He looked up at you, and his expression shifted into something that might have been sympathy if not for the satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
“Hey,” he said softly, setting his phone aside. “You okay? It’s pretty late.”
You stood in the doorway, suddenly unable to speak. How were you supposed to ask for this?
“I…” you started, then stopped, your face burning.
“Come here,” he said, patting the bed beside him. His voice was gentle and caring, but there was an edge underneath that made your stomach flip.
You moved forward on shaky legs and sat on the edge of his bed, unable to meet his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was tender, but his fingers lingered just a moment too long. “You look stressed. Haven’t been sleeping well?”
You shook your head, still unable to form words.
“No?” His hand moved to your shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles that made you shiver. “Want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
“I…” You swallowed hard. “I need… I can’t”
“Can’t what?” His voice was so patient, so understanding, but you could hear the amusement underneath. He was enjoying this.
“I need help,” you finally managed, the words barely a whisper.
“Help with what, exactly?” He tilted his head, his hand still moving on your shoulder. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
The bastard was going to make you say it.
“I’m…” You closed your eyes, unable to look at him. “I’m really… I need…”
“Need what?” His hand slid down your arm, his touch maddeningly light. “Use your words pet.”
“I need to cum.” you blurted out, your face burning with humiliation. “I’ve tried everything and I can’t and I just… I need…”
“Oh, you poor thing.” His voice was dripping with false sympathy, and when you opened your eyes, you saw the satisfaction on his face. “You can’t even get yourself off anymore? That’s pretty pathetic.”
The words should have made you angry, should have made you leave, but instead they sent a pulse of heat straight between your legs.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you said, and you hated how desperate you sounded. “Nothing works anymore.”
“Nothing?” He raised an eyebrow. “Not even your toys?”
You shook your head. “I’ve lost them. I don’t know where they went.”
“Hmmm.” He didn’t look surprised. “That’s unfortunate timing.”
Something in his tone made you look at him sharply, but his expression was innocent.
“So you came to me,” he continued, his hand moving to your thigh now, fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin. You’d come here in just an oversized t-shirt and underwear, too desperate to bother with more. “Because you need my help.”
It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway.
“And what exactly do you want me to do about it?” His fingers crept higher, and you had to bite back a whimper. “I’m not a sex toy you can just use whenever you’re horny.”
“I know,” you said quickly. “I just… I thought maybe…”
“Maybe what? That I’d be a good roommate and help you out?” His hand squeezed your thigh, and you gasped. “Even though you’ve been avoiding me for two weeks?”
“I wasn’t-”
“Don’t lie.” His voice hardened slightly. “You’ve barely looked at me since that night. Couldn’t even face what we did, could you?”
You didn’t have an answer for that.
“But now you’re so desperate, so pathetic, that you have to come crawling back to me.” His hand moved higher, fingers brushing the edge of your panties. “Is that it?”
“Yes,” you whispered, past the point of pride.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I’m desperate. Please, Will. I need you.”
The words seemed to satisfy something in him. His expression softened slightly, though his eyes remained dark with hunger.
“Well, I am a caring roommate,” he said, his tone shifting back to that false gentleness. “And I can’t just leave you suffering like this, can I? That would be cruel.”
Hope flared in your chest.
“But,” he continued, his fingers tracing the edge of your underwear without dipping underneath, “if I help you out, you’re going to have to return the favour. It’s only fair, don’t you think?”
You nodded quickly, willing to agree to anything at this point.
“Good girl.” He smiled, and it was predatory. “Lie back.”
You did as he said, your heart pounding as you settled against his pillows. He moved over you, his body caging yours in, and for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you.
Instead, he grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and pulled it up and over your head, leaving you in just your panties. His eyes raked over your exposed body with obvious appreciation.
“So pretty,” he murmurs, his hands skimming up your sides to cup your tits. “And so desperate for me.”
He pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers until you arched into his touch with a gasp. He played with them until they were hard and sensitive, until every touch sent sparks of pleasure straight to your core.
“Please,” you whimpered, your hips shifting restlessly, searching for relief.
“Please what?” He pinched harder, making you cry out. “Tell me what you need.”
“Touch me,” you begged. “Please touch me.”
“I am touching you.” His voice was maddeningly calm.
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I?” He released your tits and started kissing down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“My pussy,” you gasped out, past caring how it sounded. “Please touch my pussy.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” He hooked his fingers in your panties and pulled them down your legs, tossing them aside. Then he settled between your thighs, spreading them wide, and just looked at you.
You squirmed under his gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable.
“So wet already,” he commented, running a finger through your folds. “You really are desperate, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you admitted, your hips bucking toward his hand.
“Pathetic,” But he said it almost fondly, and then his mouth was on you.
The first touch of his tongue made you cry out, your hands flying to his hair. He licked a long stripe up your folds, then circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, and you thought you might die from how good it felt.
“Oh god” you moaned, your head falling back against the pillows.
He took his time, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue against your clit. He’d bring you close to the edge, then back off, kissing your inner thighs while you whimpered in frustration.
“Will, please,” you begged, your fingers tightening in his hair.
“Please, what?” He looked up at you, his chin glistening with your arousal, and the sight was obscene. “You have to learn how to use your words pet.”
“Please let me cum. I need it so bad.”
“I know you do, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your clit that made you jerk. “But you look so pretty like this, all desperate and needy. I could watch you like this for hours.”
“Please,” you sobbed, actually close to tears now. “Please, I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” His eyes gleamed. “That’s a big promise.”
“I don’t care. Please.”
“Well, since you’re begging so nicely…” He dove back in, this time with purpose.
He sealed his lips around your clit and sucked, his tongue working in quick circles, and you nearly screamed. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he devoured you, and the pleasure was so intense it was almost painful.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against you. “Let me hear you.”
You couldn’t have stayed quiet if you tried. Moans and whimpers spilled from your lips as he worked you higher and higher, his tongue relentless. He slid two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spot that made you see stars, and you were gone.
Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your whole body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out his name, your fingers pulling his hair hard enough that it had to hurt, but he didn’t stop. He worked you through it, drawing it out until you were shaking and oversensitive.
Finally, he pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You lay there panting, your body still trembling with aftershocks.
“Better?” he asked, and his voice was smug.
“Yes,” you breathed. “Thank you.”
“Oh, don’t thank me yet.” He moved up your body, and you could feel his erection pressing against your thigh through his boxers. “You still owe me, remember?”
Reality came crashing back. Right. You’d agreed to return the favour.
“I…” You hesitated, suddenly nervous.
“What’s wrong?” His hand cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek in a gesture that would have been sweet if not for the hardness in his eyes. “You said you’d do anything. Were you lying?”
“No I just…”
“Just what?” His thumb moved to your lips, pressing against them. “You’ve never done it before?”
You shook your head, embarrassed.
“Oh, that’s precious.” He actually laughed. “My desperate little roommate is a virgin in more ways than one.”
“I’m not a virgin,” you protested weakly.
“No, but you’ve never had a cock in your mouth, have you?” He pushed his thumb past your lips, and you instinctively closed them around it. “That’s okay. I’ll teach you.”
He pulled his thumb out and moved to sit against the headboard, then gestured for you to come closer.
“On your knees,” he instructed. “Between my legs.”
You moved into position, your heart pounding. This close, you could see the outline of his erection straining against his boxers, and your mouth went dry.
“Take them off,” he said, his voice low.
With shaking hands, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. His cock sprang free, hard and flushed, and you couldn’t help but stare.
“Like what you see?” There was amusement in his voice.
“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted quietly.
“That’s okay.” His hand moved to your hair, fingers threading through it. “I’ll guide you. Start by licking it. Get it nice and wet for me.”
You leaned forward hesitantly and gave an experimental lick along the shaft. He made a low sound of approval, his fingers tightening in your hair.
“That’s it. Use your tongue. Lick it like a lollipop.”
You did as he said, running your tongue along him, learning the taste and feel of him. His skin was soft over the hardness underneath, and you could feel him pulse against your tongue.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Now take the head in your mouth. Just the tip”
You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, and his hips jerked slightly.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “That’s good. Now suck on it. Gently.”
You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, and the groan he let out sent a thrill through you. Maybe you could do this.
“Take more,” he instructed, his hand guiding your head down. “As much as you can.”
You tried to take him deeper, but you’d barely gotten halfway before you gagged and had to pull back, coughing.
“Easy,” he said, but there was an edge of impatience in his voice. “Breathe through your nose. Try again pet.”
You did, going slower this time, but you still couldn’t take much before the urge to gag became overwhelming.
“God, you really are useless at this, aren’t you?” He sounded more amused than angry. “Can’t even suck cock properly.”
The words stung, but they also sent a pulse of heat between your legs. What was wrong with you?
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled around his cock.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He pushed your head down again, a little harder this time. “Just keep trying. You’ll get better with practice.”
You did your best, bobbing your head up and down, using your tongue the way he’d shown you. Your jaw started to ache, and drool was running down your chin, but you kept going.
“That’s better,” he said, his breathing getting heavier. “Use your hand on what you can’t fit in your mouth.”
You wrapped your head around the base of his cock and stroked in time with your mouth, and his groan told you that you were doing something right.
“Look at you,” he said, his voice rough. “So desperate to please me. So pathetic. You couldn’t even get yourself off, had to come begging for my help, and now you’re on your knees with my cock in your mouth like a good little slut.”
You whimpered around him, and he laughed.
“You like that, don’t you? Like being called a slut.” His hand tightened in your hair, controlling your movements now. “I can see it on your face. You’re probably dripping again already.”
He wasn’t wrong. Despite your aching jaw and the tears forming in your eyes from gagging, you were getting turned on again. There was something about being used like this, about the degrading words and the way he controlled you, that made your body respond.
“Such a good little cocksucker,” he continued, his hips starting to thrust up to meet your mouth. “Taking it so well now. You just needed someone to teach you, didn’t you? To show you what you’re good for.”
You could only moan in response, the vibrations making him curse.
“Fuck, I’m close.” His movements became more erratic, his grip on your hair almost painful. “You’re going to swallow it all, understand? Every drop.”
Your eyes widened, but before you could protest, he was pushing your head down as far as it would go. You gagged hard, tears streaming down your face, but he held you there.
“That’s it, take it.” He groaned, and then he was cumming, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he spilled into you.
You had no choice but to swallow, the taste bitter and overwhelming. He kept you there until he was finished, until you’d swallowed everything, and only then did he release his grip.
You pulled back, gasping and coughing, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Your jaw ached, and your throat was sore, and you felt thoroughly used.
“Good girl,” he said, reaching down to cup your face. His thumb wiped away a tear on your cheek. “You did so well for your first time.”
The praise shouldn’t have made you feel warm, but it did.
“Come here,” he said, pulling you up to lie beside him. You curled into his side, exhausted and confused by your own reactions.
His arm wrapped around you, holding you close, and for a moment, it almost felt tender. Then he spoke, his voice low and satisfied.
“See how much better it is when you just give in? When you stop fighting and accept what you need?” His fingers traced patterns on your shoulder. “You need me. Your body knows it, even if your brain hasn’t caught up yet.”
You didn’t respond, too tired and overwhelmed to argue.
“Next time you’re desperate,” he continued, “don’t wait two weeks. Just come to me. I’ll always take care of you.” His hand slid down to cup your breast possessively. “As long as you take care of me too. That’s how this works.”
You knew you should protest, should tell him this couldn’t keep happening. But lying there in his arms, your body sated and your mind fuzzy, you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words.
“Okay,” you whispered instead, and you felt him smile against your hair.
“Good girl,” he murmured again. “Such a good, desperate little girl for me.”
Despite everything – the manipulation, the degradation, the way he’d orchestrated your desperation – you felt yourself relaxing into his embrace.
You were in so much trouble.
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