summary: will's been in a mood all day and taking it out on you, james isn't having it | Will x fem!reader
notes: posting this from a random field hoping it actually uploads… based on this request!
content: 1.4k wc, angst, will being an asshole, will being rude to reader for no reason, protective james, fluff ending
You can tell something is wrong with Will before he even says a word.
It’s in the way he walks into the room – too quick, too sharp, like there’s something sitting under his skin that he can’t quite shake off. His jaw is so tight, his shoulders set in that rigid way you’ve come to recognise, and he barely even looks at you properly when he comes in the flat with James.
Normally, he would.
Normally, there’d be a smile, or at least something soft in his expression when his eyes land on you, something that makes you feel like you’re the first thing he notices in a room.
But today, it’s like he looks straight through you.
“Hi,” you say anyway, careful, testing the waters.
“Yeah”, he replies, distracted, already moving past you.
You blink slightly, thrown off by how quickly it happens.
It’s not like him.
You try not to let it bother you.
“Hey,” James says as he follows Will inside, rolling his eyes at his mood.
Everyone has off days. You know that. You’ve told yourself that all day, because this isn’t the first time he’s been like this today. There had been things earlier this morning before he left for work – short replies, a tone that felt just slightly off, a kind of restlessness that didn’t quite make sense but still made you feel like you were doing something wrong without knowing what it was.
You’d ignored it then.
You try to ignore it now.
It doesn’t last.
You’re in the kitchen, just doing something simple – making tea, moving around quietly, trying to keep things calm, normal – when he comes back in. there’s a tension in the air that wasn’t there before, something that feels like it’s been building, even if you don’t know why.
“Did you move my stuff?” he asks suddenly.
The question catches you off guard.
You turn slightly, frowning. “What?”
“My stuff,” he repeats, sharper this time. “On the table. It’s not where I left it.”
You glance over instinctively, then back at him. “I don’t think I touched it.”
“Well, someone has,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
You hesitate, unsure how to respond. “Maybe you just – moved it earlier?”
“I didn’t,” he snaps.
The edge in his voice makes you flinch slightly before you can stop yourself.
There’s a pause.
You swallow.
“Okay,” you say softly, trying to keep things level. “I was just – suggesting.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not helpful,” he shoots back.
The words land harder than they should.
You go quiet.
Because now it doesn’t feel like a bad mood. It feels like you’ve done something wrong.
It keeps happening.
Small things, one after the other.
You ask a simple question. He answers it like it’s an inconvenience. You try to joke. He doesn’t laugh. You offer help. He brushes you off, like you’re getting in the way rather than trying to make things easier.
By the third time, you’ve stopped trying as much.
You move more carefully, speak less, overthink everything before you say it, just in case it sets him off again.
It’s exhausting and confusing.
Because you don’t know what you’ve done.
The moment it breaks comes out of nowhere.
You’re both in the living room now, James somewhere nearby, half-listening, half-distracted by his phone. The tension has been sitting there for a while, thick and uncomfortable, and you can feel it in the way your shoulders are slightly tense, the way you keep glancing at Will like you’re trying to read something you can’t quite understand.
“I’ll just grab that for you,” you say, moving to pick something up from the table before he can reach it.
It’s automatic, Small. Harmless.
But apparently, it’s the wrong thing to do.
“Can you just – stop?” Will snaps suddenly.
The sharpness of it cuts through the room
You freeze, your hand still hovering mid-air.
“Stop what?” you ask, your voice quiet now, caught off guard.
“Just – doing that,” he says, gesturing vaguely, frustration spilling over. “Hovering, getting involved in everything. It’s annoying.”
The words hit harder than anything he’s said so far.
“I was just trying to help,” you say, your voice smaller than you want it to be.
“Well, I didn’t ask for help,” he shoots back.
The room goes quiet.
There’s a split second where everything just… hangs.
And then-
“Alright, that’s enough.”
James’s voice cuts in, firm in a way you don’t hear often. You blink, startled, turning slightly as he straightens up properly, his attention no longer on his phone but fully on Will.
“Mate, what’s your problem?” James continues, his tone sharp now, protective in a way that makes your chest tighten for a completely different reason.
Will frowns, defensive immediately. “I don’t have a problem.”
“Yeah, you do,” James says bluntly. “You’ve been in a mood all day, and now you’re taking it out on her for no reason.”
Your stomach flips.
“James, it’s fine-” you start automatically, the instinct to smooth things over kicking in before you can stop it.
“It’s not fine,” he cuts in, not even looking at you, his focus still locked on Will. “She hasn’t done anything.”
Will opens his mouth, like he’s about to argue, but nothing comes out straight away.
Because he knows.
You can see it in the way his expression shifts, the frustration faltering slightly, something else slipping in underneath it – something that looks a lot like realisation.
“I just-” he starts, but it sounds weaker now, less certain.
“No,” James interrupts, shaking his head. “Don’t. You don’t get to snap at her like that because you’re in a bad mood. Sort yourself out.”
There’s a pause.
A long one.
And then Will exhales, running a hand over his face, the tension in his shoulders dropping slightly like something’s finally clicked into place.
“…yeah,” he mutters, quieter now. “Yeah, alright.”
The shift is immediate.
Not gone completely – but different.
He looks at you properly then, really looks, and you see it all hit him at once – the way you’ve gone quieter, the way you’re standing a little more closed off now, the way your expression has changed without you even realising it.
Guilt flashed across his face.
“Hey,” he says, softer this time, stepping toward you. “I’m sorry,” he adds quickly. “I didn’t mean- any of that. I’ve just been-”
“In a mood,” James supplies dryly from behind you.
Will shoots him a look, but there’s no real bite to it this time.
“Yeah,” he admits. “But that’s not your fault.”
You nod slightly, but its small, hesitant.
“It just felt like it was,” you say quietly.
“It’s not,” he says, firmer now. “Not at all. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
There’s sincerity in it now, real and unguarded.
You swallow, some of the tension in your body easing, but not completely.
“I was just trying to help,” you admit.
“I know,” he says quickly. “I know. And I made it seem like you were doing something wrong, and you weren’t.”
He steps a little closer, more careful this time, like he’s aware he has to earn that space back.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, softer.
You look at him for a moment, then nod again, a little more certain this time.
“Okay,”
There’s a small pause.
Then his hand reaches for yours, tentative, like he’s giving you the choice to pull away if you want to.
You don’t.
Your fingers curl around his, and he lets out a quiet breath, relief flickering across his face.
Behind you, James shifts slightly, the tension easing now that things have settled.
“Good,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Because that was painful to watch.”
You huff out a small, surprised laugh despite everything. Will rolls his eyes slightly, but there’s no real annoyance there anymore.
“Alright, Dad,” he mutters.
“Someone had to say it,” James replies, completely unapologetic.
There’s a beat, and then he glances at you properly, his expression softening.
“You alright?” he asks.
The question catches you off guard, but it’s warm. Genuine.
“Yeah,” you say, a small smile forming. “I’m okay.”
He nods once, satisfied, before leaning back again.
“Good. Because if he does that again, I’m kicking him out.”
“Oi, you don’t even live here-” Will starts.
“I mean it,” James adds, not even looking at him.
You laugh properly this time, the last of the tension finally easing away.
Beside you, Will squeezes your hand a little tighter, like he’s making a quiet promise.
Hiii, im obsessed with your writing so much and im not sure if you’ve actually done this request before. I was wondering if we could have a willne fic where a fan maybe gets a little too comfortable on a soccer Saturday and makes a comment about reader? I’d love to see how he’d react and especially the others too xx
noise ── willne⋆⭒˚.⋆
pairing: willne x fem! reader
warnings/contents: catcalling, uncomfortable comments made
a/n: sorry this gen took like 2 months, i swear i am not normally like this... summer holidays were crazy!!!
Pm me to be on taglist <3
requests are open and i'm happy to write whatever, hope you enjoy xx
Soccer Saturday is always loud, the pub is packed to the point where it feels like the walls are breathing in and out with everyone inside it, heat clinging to your skin, voices layering over each other until it’s just one constant roar. Pints keep being passed over heads, someone’s chanting in the corner, and Chris is halfway through a story that’s already lost all structure because Arthur and Chip won’t stop interrupting him.
Becky’s laughing at something George’s just said, Isaac’s leaning against the bar looking faintly overwhelmed, and AB’s got his phone out, filming something he definitely shouldn’t be.
You’re tucked into Will’s side, more out of necessity than anything else. There’s nowhere to stand without touching someone. His arm rests around you easily, familiar, protective in a way that doesn’t feel performative. It was just natural, like a warm blanket of comfort.
That’s why the comment lands so hard.
“Oi is that Willne's mrs? I’d shag her. Proper tart, she is.”
It’s loud, clear and quite frankly unapologetic. It was a group of lads, all who've had about 4 pints past their limit, faces lighting up at the recognition of people like Chris and AB.
For a second, you genuinely wonder if you misheard it, if the noise swallowed context, but then there’s laughter, crude and validating, and another voice chiming in, agreeing far too easily. Your stomach drops before your brain catches up, that horrible sinking feeling spreading through your chest as you register that it’s about you.
Will feels it instantly. His arm tightens around you, his body going rigid in a way you recognise. The chatter at the table doesn’t stop straight away, but something shifts, it fades. He turns slowly, deliberately, eyes locking onto the group of random lads standing a few feet away, pints in hand, grinning like they haven’t just crossed a line they can’t uncross.
“Say that again,” Will says.
He doesn’t raise his voice, he simply doesn’t need to.
The lad who said it looks him up and down. Alcohol gives him the confidence to smirk anyway, shoulders lifting in a lazy shrug as if this is all harmless fun. He mutters something about it being a joke, about how it’s “just saying what everyone’s thinking, you can't put let your bird wear that and not expect her to get comments like that” and that’s when the rest of the group properly clock what’s happening.
Chris goes quiet immediately, expression hardening. Becky straightens beside you, jaw tight. Arthur shifts forward, elbows pressing into the table, eyes sharp in a way that makes it very clear he’s not amused. Chip shakes his head under his breath, disgust written plainly across his face.
“That’s not a joke, mate what,” George says flatly. “That’s grim.”
Will steps forward just enough that you’re fully behind him now, his body an unmistakable barrier. When he speaks again, his voice is controlled.
“You don’t get to talk about her like that,” he says. “Not here. Not anywhere. She’s not something for you to comment on, and she’s not here for your fuckin' entertainment mate.”
One of the lads laughs awkwardly, trying to salvage it, mumbling something about people being too sensitive these days. The room feels smaller now. Nearby tables have gone quiet, eyes flicking over, the atmosphere turning against them in real time.
“No,” Chris cuts in, sharp. “You’re just out of order.”
Arthur nods once. “Properly.”
AB, still holding his vlog camera, furrowing his brows in the corner. “Fuckin' jarring”
Will doesn’t take his eyes off the lad who spoke. He leans in slightly, not threatening, just close enough that the point lands.
“If you ever speak about her like that again,” he says quietly, “you’re going to have a problem. And it won’t end with you laughing it off.”
That’s it. Whatever confidence they had evaporates. Apologies tumble out, messy and half formed, before they go back into the crowd, suddenly very keen to disappear.
The moment they’re gone, Will turns to you immediately. His hands settle gently on your arms, grounding, thumbs brushing slow, reassuring circles like he’s pulling you back into yourself.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Are you okay?”
You nod, still a bit stunned, and Becky steps closer without a word, her presence solid and supportive. Chris mutters something under his breath about people being vile, and Arthur raises his pint toward Will in quiet approval.
“Handled that perfectly,” he says.
Will barely registers it. His attention doesn’t leave you for the rest of the night, arm staying firm around your shoulders, like a silent promise that nothing like that will touch you again, not while he’s there
summary: you’re a driver in formula one and get into a serious crash whilst will is filming
masterlist | main masterlist
The sun burned down onto the tarmac of Imola, heat shimmering off the asphalt, tension vibrating through the paddock. You were locked in, your helmet on, gloves fastened, strapped into the cockpit of your Alpine with intense focus. It was race day, a stormy mix of nerves and adrenaline flowing through your veins, just the way you liked it.
Back in London, the usual chaos of Will’s filming schedule was unfolding. He and James were halfway through a new second channel video, that obviously including the famous good bin bad bin, and a bunch of nonsensical products and a very confused production team. But Will wasn’t really in it today, not fully.
His mind focusing on the race happening just two hours away and the fact that you were on track.
His eyes constantly flickering to the small screen of Orla’s laptop that was propped up behind the camera setup, streaming the race live. The crew knew what to do, the same ordeal happening every race weekend for the past two years. Ieuan had helped rig the stream to keep it discreet but visible, Orla had her phone open with live race telemetry, and Aby occasionally piped up with lap times between takes.
“She’s in P6 now,” Orla called out, pretending to adjust a mic on James’s hoodie.
Will exhaled through his nose, half-relieved, “Come on, baby,” he muttered under his breath.
James threw a playful glance his way, “You’re more invested in that screen than this whole video.”
“Mate, my girlfriend is doing 300kph in a tin can. Excuse me if my brain’s not on what products are shit,” Will snapped, though there wasn’t any real heat behind it.
They filmed for a while longer, bits of James making crude comments, quick brand deals, an argument about cheese that Will couldn’t even fake interest in. The screen blinked with lap 42. You were holding P5 now, DRS on the car ahead. The team radio crackled faintly in the background, and Will couldn’t stop smiling.
Until everything stopped.
The camera was rolling; James was mid-sentence.
And then: the sound.
A collective, visceral gasp echoed from Orla’s side of the room.
The screen showed your car, well what was left of your car, no, hurtling into the barrier at Tamburello. Carbon fibre exploding on the impact, debris skittering like fireflies across the track. You had lost the rear. Hard.
First was smoke and then the silence followed.
Will froze.
“No, no, no, no, no.” He stood so fast his chair skidded back with a screech.
His face drained of any colour as he stepped toward the screen like it could give him answers, “Where is she? Where is she? why haven’t they cut to her?”
The camera angle changed and there was med staff sprinted toward the wreckage with the safety car being deployed but there was still no sign of movement.
“Fucking hell,” Will whispered, his hand shaking as he reached for his phone. He hadn’t even realized James had crossed the room until he was pulled into a tight, grounding hug.
“She’s tough, mate,” James said, trying to keep his own voice steady, “She’s the toughest person I’ve ever met. Just breathe.”
Will didn’t respond. He couldn’t. He was spiraling.
Aby handed him a glass of water, as Orla was trying to call contacts at Alpine. Ieuan was frantically pulling up Twitter, live F1 feeds, anything. The screen now showed the red flag.
Will sat on one of the chair, his shoulders shaking as his breaths came out in broken gasps with his knuckles digging into his eyes.
“I should’ve gone with her,” he muttered over and over, “Why didn’t I go with her?”
The flight to Bologna felt like years.
Will hadn’t slept, not even a minute. His eyes were bloodshot, red-rimmed and puffy by the time the cab dropped him outside the hospital. He could barely comprehend the ride over or entering the hospital. All he remembered was the receptionist saying your name, confirming you were okay and stable and in surgery.
The rest of the team had been texting him nonstop. Alpine had released a brief statement: minor concussion, fractured wrist, bruised ribs and out for a few weeks. But you were alert and talking.
Still, nothing would calm Will until he saw you, until he saw with his own eyes that you were okay.
Hours had passed and Will paced and he waited.
Until finally, a nurse gave him the nod, “She’s waking up.”
He slipped into the dimly lit recovery room, nerves shredding him from the inside out. You were just lying there, pale, bruised but alive. Wires and monitors tethered to you, bandages wrapped around your arm and forehead.
And then you blinked, “Will?” Your voice was rasped and throat dry.
He rushed to your side instantly, gripping your good hand like it was the only thing tethering him to reality. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, “Hi, love.”
You squinted at him, studying his tired, tearstained face, “Bloody hell. You look like you hit the barrier.”
Despite everything, a soft, hoarse chuckle escaped you.
Will let out a laugh that was a half-sob, dropping his forehead to the bed beside your arm, “Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered.
You squeezed his hand, “Didn’t plan on it.”
He looked up, brushing your hair back carefully, “I was watching with everyone. I thought, I thought I lost you.”
“I’m okay,” you whispered, “You ain’t getting rid of me that easy, Lenney.”
Will blinked at you, voice low and cracking, “You scared the absolute shit out of me.”
“Guess I had to make sure you’d fly to Italy.”
You both laughed, broken and breathless, but the sound was full of love and relief. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“I love you,” he murmured, “I love you so much.”
“Good,” you said, smiling sleepily. “Because I plan on being very dramatic and milking this crash for at least a month. You’re on tea duty.”
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: an accidentally slip-up during a video with hot chocolates.
warnings: just a cute couple announcement
word count: 700+ words
main masterlist
"This is for lazy people..." You mutter, holding up the self-stirring mug and squinting your eyes to inspect how it works. Then, glancing toward the camera with a grin, you add, "perfect for Will."
"What's perfect for me?" Will's voice comes from behind the camera as he strolls back into frame, arms full of Cadbury hot chocolate powder.
"Oh nothing...just me." You tease, lips curving into a smirk.
Will rolls his eyes, setting everything down with a dramatic sigh. "Come on, you know they're gonna make edits about that now."
You can't help but laugh, mostly because you know it's true. The fans have been shipping you and Will for years even since you joined his group of friends. Every shared glance, every off camera cameo, every time your laugh is in the back of his videos... they notice. There are dramatic TikToks with screenshots of your Instagram stories and YouTube compilations titled "them being in love for 10 minutes straight !!!" and endless comments claiming for us 'to just admit it already".
If only they knew how close to the truth they really were.
He huffs a laugh, leaning over the table as he unboxes the mug. “Right, science time. It’s meant to stir itself, yeah? You just press this button—”
The mug starts whirring violently, splattering chocolate up the sides. You jump back with a yelp. “Oh my god, Will! Turn it off!”
“I am turning it off!” He insists, jabbing the button as liquid chaos swirls. “Why is it spinning like it’s possessed?”
You can’t stop laughing, doubling over as he finally manages to stop it. The hot chocolate looks tragic; foamy and uneven, but Will takes a sip anyway.
“Well?” You ask, still giggling.
He shrugs. “Tastes like regret and batteries.”
You snort. “Perfect. I’ll have two.”
He shoots you a look, but his mouth twitches into a smile before he can hide it.
The video rolls on with you try a neck-massage pillow that nearly strangles Will, a mini popcorn maker that explodes kernels across the room, and a gadget that claims to fold laundry automatically (spoiler: it doesn’t). Every failure makes you laugh harder, every sideways glance between you two more obvious.
By the time you reach the last box, you’re both crying with laughter and surrounded by cardboard carnage.
Will rips it open dramatically. “Okay, final one! A miracle cleaning gel. Says it ‘picks up dust and crumbs from hard-to-reach surfaces.’”
You lean toward the camera, whispering, “Finally, something for his room.”
He throws the packaging at you. “I’ll have you know I clean... sometimes.”
“Sure, sure...”
Ignoring you, he presses the goo into a keyboard, watching it stretch and pick up crumbs. His eyebrows lift, impressed.
“Oh, hang on. This is actually kinda satisfying.”
You reach for it too, both of you poking at the sticky blob. It squelches. “This is gross,” you mutter. “Feels like alien jelly.”
“Yeah, but look!” He holds it up to the light. “It’s actually cleaning the cracks and everything. This’d be perfect for our cleaning Sundays in the apartment.”
Silence.
The sentence hangs there, soft and heavy, suspended in the quiet buzz of the camera.
Your eyes flick up. His are already wide.
“Our what?” you say, fighting back a grin.
Will freezes, still holding the slime mid-air. “No, wait, I didn’t— that’s not— I meant your apartment. Or, like, an apartment. A generic apartment. Could be anyone’s.”
You bite your lip, trying not to laugh. “Uh-huh. The apartment we don’t share at all.”
He drags a hand down his face. “Oh, I’m so finished. They’re gonna... they’re absolutely gonna clip that.”
“Oh, definitely. Title: Will Lenney Accidentally Reveals His Secret Girlfriend.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
He glances at you, cheeks pink, mouth twitching. “Shut up.”
You grin at the camera, holding up the cleaning gel like a trophy. “Ten out of ten. Perfect for your… shared household needs.”
Will groans, burying his face in his hands. “We’re never hearing the end of this.”
In the coming weeks, Will releases the video, and he calls you to the couch to come check out the comments, "hey love, come here."
i'm sorry 'our cleaning sundays'????? excuse me!
GUYS GUYS GUYS!!11!!! WE KNEW IT!!!
they're literally an old married couple!
Will pretends to sulk for an hour before grinning at you from across the couch.
“You know, could’ve been worse. At least I didn’t say our bed.”
content: husband!willne. mainly fluff, but there is some smut/18+ content at the end. with mentions of: piv, masturbation (m!receiving), silly sex, strip teases
a/n: we all need a bit of husband!will in our lives, don’t we :) thank u sm for this request anon, i loved writing it <3!!
husband!will who’s absolutely enamoured by you. i think this was one a given. will is absolutely obsessed and in love with you, and is in awe that you’re his wife. he practically worships the ground you walk on, following your every command because he just wants everything in the world to be right just for for you. if he could, he’d give you the world. that’s how strong his love is. he also thinks so highly of you, and is so so grateful that he is the one that gets to spend the rest of your life with you.
husband!will who has different pet names for you that are associated with levels of guilt. i definitely think will has an array of pet names for you which match his mood or at least his guilt and sorrow. “darling”, “pet” and “love”, are definitely associated pet names when he’s feeling happy, or at least they’re the most common ones he’ll use when referring to you. then there’s “sweetheart”, “babe/baby” and “gorgeous”, when he’s feeling a little lower. these pet names are definitely delivered with a side of his puppy eyes too, or a little pout. then there’s “my lover”, “wife” and “beautiful”, when he’s feeling extremely down. especially if he’s away on a shoot in another country and you murmur the words “i miss you,” when it’s been a long time since he’s been home as he absolutely melts and feels immensely guilty.
husband!will who calls you ‘wife’ when he’s about to do or has done something stupid. you know how i mentioned that will practically worships the ground you walk on? well, as your husband he also has the obligation of being scared of you. especially when he’s done something stupid. i can imagine many instances when you’ve had to go off to work and something has gone terribly wrong whilst will has been home alone. maybe he’s broken something, or something stopped working, but he’s soon on the phone to you trying to defend himself. you’ll pick up the phone, concerned that he’s maybe injured himself only to his hear his broad geordie accent vibrating through the speakerphone saying, “hello my lovely, gorgeous wife, you know i love you right?” you roll your eyes lightheartedly on your side of the line before replying with, “what did you do, husband? you only use this tone with me when something’s gone wrong, will.” as you know something’s most likely gone wrong whilst you’ve been out. then he’ll dramatically gasp, saying “how could you say that to me!! can’t a man simply adore his lovely wife?” and you’ll be quick, responding with, “well, yes they can. but you’re using that tone again, so you may as well tell me what’s wrong,” and he’ll sigh, before saying “fine, you see…” before telling you of the horrors that have happened to the house whilst you’ve been gone.
this leads on nicely to husband!will who brings home random stuff from wnj shoots because he thought they were ‘cool’. we all know that will is a chronic nerd, getting excited at the most randomest stuff that he and james reviews on the second channel, but i just can’t stop thinking about will coming home with a gift that is just so stupid and useless for you both but he couldn’t get rid of it because it was ‘cool’. imagine it’s some stupid little tiny robot device that helps to track your plants’ water level so you know when to water them, and he’s excitedly showing it to you saying in a high-pitched voice, “it’s absolutely amazing, pet! look at it! it’s so bloody cool!” as you just look him dead in the eyes, maybe even arms crossed before you say basically flatly, “william lenney, we don’t have any plants. plus, you’ll never use it,” as he looks up at you from looking down at the device before giving himself a silent moment of realisation. “oh. right. yeah, you’re right,” he’d then say, before his eyes light up again with a ‘light bulb’ moment, “well if we did have some plants, this little fella would help us??!” and you just know that damn well after that he’s going to be ordering plants so that he can use his stupid device just to prove your point wrong.
adopting a pet with husband!will. i can imagine the sheer joy on will’s face after you present the idea of adopting a pet with him. you’d innocently ask “hey will? do you fancy adopting a dog? look how cute these are,” in relation to seeing an animal shelter post on your facebook feed or something and his eyes just light up. he’s ecstatic. “do i fancy adopting?! fuckin’ hell pet, i don’t just ‘fancy’, i’d fucking love to!”, he’d exclaim, maybe even jumping off of the sofa that you’re both sat on — elation written all over his face as he then goes in to give you a big kiss which you instantly melt into. and when you do adopt a pet, a dog in particular, he so lives up to the title of ‘dog dad’. he takes it everywhere— the office and on walks around the city, for example— and is honestly just so so happy that he’s able to share this responsibility and own a pet with you.
this leads nicely to snuggling with husband!will and the dog on the sofa. i can imagine a situation where you and will are snuggling on the sofa, already tangled between each others limbs whilst underneath a blanket together. you’re both content, soaking up each other’s presence and warmth as you both feel a rather large thing hop on top of both of your laps. and it’s only gone and been the dog! the dog (in all honesty) innocently traps you both underneath the blanket, making you both face a fate of not being able to leave the sofa. you chuckle softly as will brings a hand up to stroke the dog’s fur, whilst your head comes to rest on his shoulder, whispering into his ear, “looks like we’re trapped here for a little longer.” and will smiles in response, a warm chuckle vibrating in his chest as he replies quietly too, “i think so too pet,” before pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head.
looking after husband!will when he’s ill. let’s just say that i can imagine will to be an absolute drama queen when ill. he’ll make a mountain out of a molehill over a little cold, wrapping himself snugly in blankets and your bedsheets as he grumbles, “don’t worry about me, love. go to work,” as he sniffles, nose stuffy and red, whilst his mullet unruly and messy as his pout is barely seen over the covers on his face. it’s obvious that he wants you to stay, but he’d never express that. “you’re ill. i’m staying here, will,” you say deadpan and serious, not giving up. the ‘quarrel’ will continue for around two more minutes until will finally caves in when you say, “alright then. i’ll go to work,” and you’re about to leave through the bedroom door, by saying “no please, don’t go to work. stay here!”which has you tutting to yourself, smiling as you shake your head at how pathetic he is in that moment.
which then leads to cradling sick husband!will’s head in your lap. (in all honesty, i can imagine this happening as just a normal thing, but i’m linking it to sickness because it just makes sense in this context for the sake of the flow) later on in the day, when you’ve finally dragged will out of bed and now onto the sofa, his frame now bundled in blankets, you’re making him rest his head in your lap so he can get some sleep. “come on,” you’d urge, patting your lap, “lie here. i can see you can’t settle. it’ll help,” you add with a warm smile as he happily does so, lying down on your lap. “thank you,“ he’d mumble through another sniffle or sneeze as he’s getting comfortable, your head subconsciously comes down to his head, as you start to pet his fluffy brown curls, slowly scratching his scalp as you notice him relax, his eyes getting more and more heavy as your cradling lulls him into a peaceful sleep on the sofa.
having lunch dates during busy days with husband!will. i like to think that will comes by your office often during lunch time on busy days with a meal deal for you so you don’t need to go out on your lunch break. the only problem? your drink is always rodds. “rodds? again?” you’d ask him, holding the bottle in your hand. “uhh, yeah? its the best iced coffee in a bottle that doesn’t taste like iced coffee in a bottle, my lovely wife,” he’d then respond with, to which you’d roll your eyes in response to the response he’d been giving you to the past few months since rodds first released. “well, what if i want a different drink? like a pep—“ and will would be quick to press a finger on your lips, “don’t say that! you want your husband’s iced coffee brand to stay in the meal deal don’t you?!” before you’d burst into laughter after he removes his finger from your lips, “well i think that’s your fanbase’s duty. not your wife’s, william.” before you tuck into your lunches together.
getting meaningful, matching tattoos with husband!will. what it says on the tin, to be honest. i also think this was definitely a drunken wedding night choice for you both, getting each other’s initials tatted somewhere on your bodies in a way to fully “seal the moment”, in both of your words. but in the end it was meaningful, even if you both woke up confused in the morning to see each other’s letters tattooed on your bodies.
husband!will who after living with you for years, still doesn’t know how to properly tidy up the dishes. washing the dishes is definitely very comedic scenario for you and him. “will, no!” you’d exclaim as he goes to put a plate in the wrong cupboard, “what?!” he’d then exclaim in confusion. “those plates don’t go there!” you’d then exclaim, before pointing to the right cupboard, “those plates go here, and the almost identical ones go in that cupboard there!” pointing back at the cupboard he was going to put the plate initially in, “is is that hard?!?!? you’ve been living here for 3 years!” and then will has the audacity to have a massive grin on his face whilst he puts the plates in the right place mumbling “alright, alright! keep your hair on,” before grabbing you by the waist, pulling your front flush to his chest, “you’re cute when you get stressed and boss me about, you know that?” he’d mumble against your lips before pressing a deep kiss, which you immediately melt into.
husband!will who finds your voice so sexy. i like to think that in your married life with will, there has been multiple occurrences where will can’t concentrate on what you’ve been saying because he finds your voice that sexy. especially when you’re angry or ranting in his face. “are you even listening?!”you’d exclaim as you get right into will’s face, your front brushing against his chest as his breath has hitched, completely in awe and in love with you. in all fairness, he’s also exceptionally hard at this stage and his mouth is dry. when he doesn’t respond to that, you’d snap your fingers in his face, “earth to will? hello?” to which he’ll blink before looking down at you, broken from his trance. “well?!” you’d then say, expecting a response, but instead you have will dumbly saying, “has anyone told you that you’re sexy when you’re mad?” let’s just say that you’re soon on each other, groping each other’s bodies as you push will by his back down onto the sofa as you make heated love to each other in that tense moment.
dirty talk with husband!will. you and will are like the dirty talk final bosses. you’re constantly flirting with each other in the comfort of the flat. you and him will be embracing each other in the kitchen after doing the dishes or whilst you’re waiting for the food to cook. “you’re staring,” you’ll murmur, noticing how will’s eyes haven’t left you, fixated on your face. he’d bite his lip, smirking before mumbling, “mm, well am i not allowed to appreciate my beautiful wife?”with a knowing look on his face. “no! no, i never said that, did i?” you’d laugh, a cute flush painting your cheeks as one of will’s large hands comes to squeeze your ass, making you giggle, “will!” and will would then just put his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling the skin around the nape making you shiver, before murmuring “i love you, pretty girl,” on your skin as he lifts you onto the counter to eat you out.
slow morning sex with husband!will. the best type of sex with will. the type where you both don’t want to leave the warmth of your bed, and as he’s playing big spoon he’ll slip into you, moaning lowly into your ear as you gasp. will’s hips would then move slowly against yours fucking you softly and tenderly as he presses kisses to the back of your neck, his hands coming up in front of you to grap and play with your tits, squeezing them until you squeal. before he can come he’ll slide out of you, pressing your back softly to the mattress before hovering on top of you, sliding back inside of your wet heat as you moan softly again. a lot of “i love yous” and “keep goings” are muttered until you both climax, before settling into each other’s warmth again afterwards.
comforting husband!will with a massage that turns into something more. after a long day of working, you often don’t mind giving will a massage. in all honesty, he’s practically begging for them because you’re so good at them. so that is how he comes to be sat in between your thighs, shirtless and on the floor as your hands work miracles into the tense muscles of his shoulders. a little “oh— oh fuck, yes,” will slip out breathlessly as will gasps, overwhelmed by the immense pleasure he’s feeling. it doesn’t help that you’re also breathing down his neck, which sends shivers down his spine, all whilst one of your hands snakes into his sweatpants to find his already hard cock begging to be played with too. he moans out loud as you squeeze the length, smearing the precum around the shaft after you’ve dipped your hands fully into his boxers so you can jerk him off. the massage ends up being forgotten about as you pleasure will’s cock, leaving him a breathless and gasping mess as he ultimately comes in his boxers, before you kiss him lovingly on the temple before mumbling into his ear, “feel better?” as he nods in response, beautifully fucked out.
strip teasing husband!will which turns silly. i can imagine in a way to ‘spice up’ your sex life after not seeing will for so long, that you plan a strip tease to surprise him. he’ll walk into the bedroom after being in the shower, a wet towel hung loosely to his hips and his hair wet and tousled on his head as he looks at you in confusion. “hey, honey,” you’d speak in a sultry tone after letting the robe cascade from your body to reveal your sexy— and his favourite— lingerie which was hiding underneath. “holy shit,” he’d gasp then as will just looks at you in awe. subconsciously, his feet work for his brain as he’s walking over to you, letting the towel fall from his body as well as you soon get on top of him, watching how some lone droplets of water still glimmer on his chest. “well, do you like it?” you’d giggle, tracing a finger along his bare body, whilst biting your bottom lip. “do i like it? fuck me pet, i love it,” he’d say breathlessly, bringing his own hand to the elastic of your panties, pulling it back and making it snap against your body. “will!” you’d then yelp, jolting a little forward, losing the ‘sexy’ act, “be careful!” and he’d just laugh, before saying “you’re gorgeous,”through them. let’s just say that during the whole ordeal you’re giggling and laughing messes as you both appreciate each other for the night. <3
—the pub smells like spilt beer and pine-scented candles someone definitely shouldn’t have lit indoors.
fairy lights are strung along the ceiling beams, warm and uneven, making everyone look softer than they really are. will keeps losing you in the crowd.
not on purpose. just every time he turns around, you’re laughing with someone else, coat slung over a chair, drink in hand, looking like you belong everywhere all at once.
he tells himself it’s fine.
you’re friends. good ones.
someone claps him on the shoulder, drags him into a conversation about videos and views and something he half-listens to, eyes flicking past shoulders until— there you are, slipping toward the back of the pub. he follows, like it’s coincidence. it’s quieter here. the noise dulls, the laughter blurs. you’re standing by the wall, scrolling through your phone, shoulders slightly hunched like you needed a second away from everyone.
“where’re you runnin’ off to?“ he grinned softly, his arms crossed but the fabric of his blazer looked like it was about to rip open. “ah, just very overstimulating” you laugh to yourself, taking in a deep breath. it’s quieter here, tucked away from the crowd, the air cooler. you pull your coat a little tighter and will, without thinking, reaches out and fixes the collar for you.
his hand lingers.
you both freeze.
then you look up.
mistletoe.
of course.
you laugh, breathless. “no way.”
will’s heart does something embarrassing. “you’ve got to be kidding me.”
but neither of you moves. it’s suddenly very aware. the space. the lights. the fact that you’re standing way closer than you need to be. will can smell your perfume, feel the warmth coming off you.
you glance down and see that he still has his hand on your sleeve, he leans in — not all the way. just enough that your noses almost brush, enough that the world tilts a little. “this still counts as just friends, right?” he murmurs.
you grin. “absolutely.”
and then you kiss him.
quick. soft. warm. the kind of kiss that feels like a secret you both immediately want to keep. you pull back first, cheeks pink, eyes shining. “merry christmas,” you whisper. will just stares at you, stunned, smiling like an idiot. “yeah,” he says. “merry christmas.”
overhead, the mistletoe sways gently.
will goes back to the party grinning, heart racing, knowing one thing for sure
summary: whilst at the park, you meet a little girl. who unbeknownst to you would lead to your blossoming love for her father. or the begininng of your love story with will lenney.
author's notes: of course my first fic back had to be my favorite man and i needed fluff in our lives. plus i kinda fell in love with the idea of a meddling kid helping the failure of a man find love. i dunno how it ended up being so long but i hope you enjoy ✿ ~divider by @cafekitsune
word count: 6k+
the late afternoon sun draped the park in a soft golden glow, the kind that softened every edge and made the world feel slower than it really was. the long shadows stretched lazily across the grass, swaying slightly with the breeze that slipped through the trees. somewhere nearby, the scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the faint sweetness of blooming flowers.
it was peaceful. a kind of quiet that only existed in places where life moved gently. where the loudest sounds were laughter, birdsong, and the distant hum of people simply existing. exactly the kind of quiet you had been hoping for.
you had chosen a spot a little off the main path, tucked beneath the wide canopy of an old oak tree whose branches stretched overhead. just in front of you, a carefully tended flowerbed burst with color. clusters of daisies, soft pink carnations, and a few bright marigolds swaying gently in the breeze. the shade it cast created a cool pocket away from the direct sun, and from here you had the perfect view of the flowerbeds planted just a few feet away.
the rows of daisies and wildflowers spilled color across the soil, their delicate petals shifting softly in the breeze. to say that they were beautiful was an understatement, and the urge to eternally encapsulate their beauty gnawed at you.
your sketchbook rested against your knees, one hand holding the page steady while the other moved slowly, thoughtfully. the tip of your pencil dragged across the paper in careful strokes as you traced the curve of a petal, then paused to look at the flower again. checking over your work in hopes that you had done it some justice.
sketching here had become a small ritual. a break from the noise of everything else happening in your life. a way to slow down. a way to breathe. the world felt simpler when it was just you, the paper, and whatever scene you happened to be capturing.
in the distance, children’s laughter carried across the park from the playground. the steady creak of swings drifted through the air, accompanied by the occasional excited shout when someone went higher than before. shoes scraped against the metal of climbing bars, and somewhere a toddler squealed with delight.
you didn’t mind the noise. if anything, it made the moment better. it was background life; soft and distant enough that it didn’t interrupt your focus. yet, it was lively enough to make the afternoon feel warm and full.
you tilted your head slightly as you studied the cluster of daisies in front of you. a few petals curved inward in a way that was slightly different from the others. you erased a small section on your page before adjusting the shape, shading carefully until the flower looked just right. the gentle scratch of graphite against paper was steady and calming.
a small exhale left your lips as you leaned back slightly, examining your progress before adding another line. maybe it’d be better with some colour? but sadly, you’d left all of that at home in your haste to leave before the clouds could think of darkening outside.
across the park, near the playground, will stood watching the scene with quiet amusement. one hand rested loosely in the pocket of his hoodie while the other held his phone absentmindedly at his side. his attention, however, was fully on the small whirlwind of energy currently dominating the playground.
a head of curly brown hair bobbing up and down as she disappeared down the slide again. his daughter.
she clambered up the play structure with the fierce determination of someone who had absolutely no fear of falling. which she absolutely didn’t. the girl had every faith that her father would be right there behind her no matter what she got herself into. her small sneakers scraped against the plastic steps as she climbed, curls bouncing around her face as she reached the top platform.
for a moment she stood there triumphantly like she had conquered a mountain. then her eyes drifted back to him.
“daddy!” she shouted proudly.
will laughed under his breath as she threw herself down the little plastic slide, sliding toward the ground with a soft squeal before hopping back to her feet like the ride had been far too short.
her cheeks were flushed pink from running around. a few stray curls sticking to her forehead from the warmth of the afternoon and the faint sheen of sweat coating her skin. grass stains were already beginning to form on the knees of her tiny leggings.
“can we get ice cream?” she asked, already bouncing on the balls of her feet.
will raised a brow, the corner of his mouth pulling into a small grin as he crouched down in front of her. giving her any more sugar was surely a bad idea…but, saying no to that face felt even worse than having to deal with the impending energy boost.
“you’ve been running around for… what, ten minutes?” he said, pretending to think it over as he brushed a stray curl away from her face. “you sure you’re not going to explode from excitement first?”
she gasped softly at the idea, then shook her head firmly. “yes, i won’t explode,” she insisted.. “ice cream helps. it makes everything better.” she declared with complete confidence in herself.
that made him laugh for real. a quiet, warm sound that wrapped around them both and made the day feel fuller.
“that’s some very strong medical advice you’ve got there.”
she grinned proudly like she’d just won the argument.
will snorted at that, shaking his head as he stood again.“alright, alright,” he said, glancing over his shoulder toward the small ice cream cart stationed near the path that ran through the park.
the cart wasn’t far at all. just across a stretch of grass, maybe a four minute walk away. the vendor stood beside it with a small cooler and a colorful umbrella overhead, occasionally serving passing families.
will looked back down at his daughter. “you stay right here on the playground, yeah?” he said, gesturing around them. “where i can see you. don’t even think about going anywhere.”
her eyes followed his gesture before she nodded eagerly.
“promise?”
“promise!” she replied immediately, holding up her pinky like that somehow made it official.
will smiled softly. he bent down and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head, ruffling her curls lightly before straightening again.
“don’t move from right here. i’ll know if you think about it.” with that, he turned and began walking toward the cart, already pulling his wallet from his pocket as he approached.
the grass crunched softly beneath his shoes as he stepped onto the path, giving the vendor a polite nod. “two cones, please.”
as the vendor turned to scoop the ice cream, will instinctively glanced back over his shoulder. just to check. he knew how easily the child would get distracted by the easiest things, and he couldn’t really blame her because it might’ve been his fault genetically…or so he always heard.
his daughter was still on the playground platform, leaning over the railing as she watched a couple of older kids race each other across the monkey bars. satisfied, he turned back toward the cart.
behind him, however… something bright and yellow fluttered lazily through the air. a butterfly drifted past the playground like a tiny piece of sunshine, its wings catching the light as it floated gently over the grass. the creature floated farther away across the grass, dipping and gliding unpredictably like it had nowhere in particular to be. and sadly, the little girl’s attention snapped to it instantly. her eyes widened and her hand reached out to try to grasp at it.
“butterfly.”
without a second thought, she hopped down from the platform and ran after it, giggling as it fluttered just out of reach. the butterfly bobbed farther across the grass and hot on its tail the young lenney followed. each time she got close, it drifted a little further away, rising and dipping in the breeze like it was teasing her. coaxing her along, her promise to stay put disappeared from her mind entirely. now replaced with the need to hold the small creature close, to feel the colours beneath her fingertips and satisfy her childlike wonder.
the butterfly eventually drifted toward the flowerbeds… right where you were sitting beneath the oak tree. you didn’t notice her approach at first. your focus was still entirely on your page, pencil moving slowly as you shaded the delicate lines of a daisy. but suddenly; a small shadow appeared beside you.
“what are you doing?”
your pencil froze mid-stroke. you blinked and looked up to find a tiny girl standing next to you, wide-eyed and curious, staring directly at your sketchbook like she had just discovered something magical. before you could say anything, she crouched down beside you, peering closely at the page. her eyes grew even bigger (if that was even possible).
“woah,” she whispered in awe. she pointed at the drawing. “you made the flowers.”
a small smile tugged at your lips as you glanced back down at the sketch. “something like that.”
she looked from the sketchbook to the real flowers and back again, clearly comparing the two with intense concentration. “you’re really good,” she decided after a moment.
“thank you,” you said warmly.
she scooted a little closer without hesitation, resting her chin in her hands as she watched your pencil move. “what’s your name?” she asked.
you told her.
she nodded like this was very important information. “i’m ellie,” she said proudly. “my friends call me…um…ellie.”
you huffed out a soft laugh. “nice to meet you, ellie.”
her eyes drifted back to the sketch. “do you draw all the time?”
“sometimes,” you said. “when i want to relax.”
she watched your hand carefully as you added a few more lines to the petals.
“you make the flowers look happy.”
you blinked slightly. “happy?”
she nodded enthusiastically. “yeah! see?” she pointed. “these ones are smiling.”
you looked at the drawing, trying to see it from her perspective. “well… i guess they are a little.”
ellie giggled softly. “can you draw butterflies too?” she asked hopefully.
“sure,” you said. “i can try.”
her eyes sparkled. “can you draw the yellow one?”
“the one you were chasing?”
she nodded eagerly.
“yes! he’s my friend. i named him chris.”
you smiled, turning the page slightly before beginning a small butterfly sketch beside the flowers. ellie watched like it was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen.
“you’re like magic,” she whispered in awe.
meanwhile, across the park, will turned back from the ice cream cart with two cones in his hands and immediately froze. the playground platform was empty. the slide sat quiet. the swings moved gently back and forth in the breeze. but his daughter wasn’t anywhere there. his stomach dropped instantly.
“…ellie?” he stepped forward slowly at first, scanning the playground. nothing.
his chest tightened. “ellie?” he called again, louder this time, walking faster as his eyes darted across the park. panic rose sharply in his chest.
“ellie!”
back by the flowerbeds, the little girl had now settled cross-legged beside you, chin resting in her hands as she watched you draw like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“can you draw other butterflies too?” she asked.
but, before you could answer, a voice rang out across the park. frantic.
“ellie!”
the little girl’s head popped up instantly.
“oh,” she said casually as she she pointed across the park. “that’s my dad.”
ellie perked up instantly, her head turning toward the sound.
“oh!” she said brightly, springing to her feet.
she cupped her tiny hands around her mouth and shouted across the park with all the volume a six-year-old could muster.
“daddddyyyy!”
across the grass, will’s head snapped toward the sound.
relief hit him so hard it nearly made his knees buckle. there she was, standing by the flowerbeds. talking to… someone.
he exhaled sharply, one hand dragging through his hair as he hurried across the grass, the two ice cream cones still in his hands and now slightly melting down the sides.
“ellie,” he called, walking faster now. “ellie—”
“i’m here!” she shouted again helpfully, bouncing in place and waving both arms like he might somehow miss her.
will finally reached them, slightly out of breath. he crouched down immediately in front of her, looking her over quickly like he needed to confirm she was actually okay.
“ellie,” he said, his voice a mix of relief and mild panic. “what did i say about staying on the playground?”
she blinked up at him innocently. “i stayed… kinda.”
“not kinda,” he said gently, trying to keep his tone calm. “i turned around for two seconds and you vanished.”
“but i followed the butterfly,” she explained very seriously, pointing toward the flowers like that justified everything.
will pinched the bridge of his nose briefly before sighing. “right. the butterfly.” he softened immediately though, brushing a hand over her hair. “you scared me, kiddo.”
“sorry,” she said, not sounding very sorry at all.
then she brightened instantly again, grabbing his sleeve. “daddy look!!” pointed enthusiastically toward you. “she draws flowers!”
will finally looked up. and for the first time actually noticed you sitting there. there was a brief, very will moment where he just blinked.
“oh…uh— hi,” he said awkwardly, immediately straightening up a bit.
one of the ice cream cones tilted slightly in his hand and he quickly corrected it.
“sorry about that,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “she… uh— tends to wander when butterflies are involved apparently.”
ellie tugged his sleeve again. “show him the butterfly,” she insisted to you, pointing at the sketchbook.
will leaned slightly, curious despite himself. “oh— you drew that?” he asked, surprised.
ellie nodded aggressively for you. “she’s really good, like so good,” she informed him loudly.
will glanced between the drawing and the actual flowers in front of you.
“that’s… actually really impressive,” he admitted.
ellie beamed like she personally deserved credit. “she made the flowers happy. you made the flowers sad last time.”
will blinked. “the flowers… happy?"
“yeah!” ellie said confidently. “look they’re smiling.”
will looked back at the drawing again like he was genuinely trying to see it. “…i think i see it,” he said slowly.
ellie grabbed one of the ice cream cones from his hand like she’d just remembered their existence. “thank you,” she said dramatically.
will sighed. “you’re welcome.”
she took a very enthusiastic lick before turning back toward you again like she had something extremely important to say. “my dad likes flowers too.”
will froze. “…ellie.”
she ignored him completely. “he looks at them sometimes,” she continued, nodding seriously. “like this.” she squinted dramatically and leaned forward, pretending to inspect a flower.
you couldn’t help but laugh.
will turned slightly pink in the ears. “i…okay— that’s not—”
“and he smells them too,” ellie added helpfully.
“alright,” will said quickly.
“but only sometimes, he's not weird. i promise," she clarified.
will looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him.
ellie leaned closer to you conspiratorially. “he’s also alone.”
will choked slightly. “ellie.”
she looked up at him, confused. “what?”
“that’s, you can’t just…you don’t—”
she turned back to you. “my daddy doesn’t have a girlfriend. all the other daddies have mommies to kiss but he doesn’t have one. i think it makes him sad.”
“okay,” will said quickly, rubbing his face now.
“ellie we are not discussing my– my relationship status with strangers in the park.”
“but she’s nice, and look at her hair,” ellie said matter-of-factly, then she grabbed your hand suddenly, sticky ice-cream fingers and all. “and she draws flowers. you like flowers.”
will looked like he had absolutely no idea how to recover from this situation. “i— yeah— i mean— flowers are… fine,” he muttered awkwardly.
ellie nodded like she had just solved the world’s greatest mystery. “see?”
will sighed, looking slightly defeated before glancing back at you with an apologetic half-smile. “…i promise she’s usually only about half this embarrassing.”
ellie seemed very pleased with herself. she took another very serious lick of her ice cream before suddenly gasping like she had just remembered something incredibly important.
“daddy.”
will sighed lightly. “…yes, ellie?”
she pointed dramatically toward the flowerbed in front of you. “can i go see the flowers up close?”
will immediately looked at the patch of grass between the two of you and the flowerbed, mentally calculating the distance like a man who had just experienced a small heart attack five minutes ago.
“…you mean the ones right there?” he asked cautiously.
ellie nodded enthusiastically, curls bouncing. “yeah! the happy ones!”
will glanced at you briefly before looking back at the flowers. they were maybe six feet away. he exhaled, shoulders drooping slightly.
“alright,” he said slowly. “but you stay where i can see you, yeah?”
“the flowers!” she scrambled to her feet so quickly that will instinctively reached out to steady her.
“easy,” he said.
“i will!” she was already halfway there before he even finished the sentence.
will turned slightly so his body faced the flowerbed, keeping ellie firmly in his line of sight as she crouched down next to the daisies like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.
“she’s very into flowers today apparently,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
she grabbed his sleeve immediately. “daddy, come see them! up close! they’re happy flowers!”
will looked down at her, then toward the flowerbed beside you. “well…” he said slowly, glancing at you as if silently asking whether this was alright.
ellie answered for you. “come on!” she insisted, already tugging him forward.
will let himself be dragged the two steps closer before stopping beside the edge of the flowerbed. he shifted slightly so he was standing just a little in front of ellie, turning his body so he could keep her fully in his line of sight. there was that protective instinct in the movement, automatic and practiced.
ellie crouched down near the flowers immediately, holding her ice cream carefully in one hand while inspecting the daisies like they were rare museum artifacts. “look,” she whispered dramatically to no one in particular.
will watched her for a moment, the tension from earlier finally settling out of his shoulders now that she was safely within arm’s reach. then he glanced back at you. properly noticing you for the first time..and immediately forgot how to exist like a normal person for about half a second. you were… very pretty. like, distractingly so. you were… very pretty. like really pretty. the kind of pretty that made his brain momentarily forget how words worked.
he cleared his throat awkwardly. “she uh—” he gestured vaguely. “she normally goes for bugs. or mud. today it’s… flowers.” his hand rubbed against the back of his neck awkwardly. “also, i guess… uh… thanks for not letting her wander into traffic or something,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward ellie.
ellie, meanwhile, had leaned down to sniff a daisy with intense focus.
you glanced up from your sketchbook with a small amused smile. “happy to assist in butterfly-related emergencies.”
will let out a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with more force now. “yeah… she’s got a bit of a habit of chasing anything that’s colourful or flies. i guess this one was just a double whammy.”
ellie turned around suddenly. “i found a big one!”
will immediately leaned slightly to look. “don’t pick it!” he called gently.
“i’m not!” she said defensively.
then she turned back to the flower and whispered something to it.
will blinked at her but chose not to intrude. “…i don’t even want to know.” he glanced back at you with a sheepish smile. “she’s six going on… i don’t know ? sixty.”
ellie looked up again. “they’re talking to me!”
will looked concerned for half a second. “…the flowers?”
“yes.”
“right.” he nodded slowly like that was completely normal. “well… tell them i said hello. wonderful weather we’re having.”
ellie looked up suddenly. “they’re my friends. they think the weather is boring.”
will nodded solemnly. “of course they do..”
you tilted your head slightly, watching the way ellie leaned closer to the flowers like she was inspecting them for secrets. “she’s very curious,” you added between a soft laugh.
“that’s one word for it,” will replied.
ellie gasped again. “daddy look!”
both of you looked down immediately.
she pointed at a daisy with deep concentration. “this one is smiling extra.”
will crouched slightly beside her. “ah,” he said thoughtfully. “yes. i see the… extra smile.”
you snorted softly.
will glanced up at you again, catching the small smirk on your face. “oh come on,” he said defensively. “i’m just supporting her flower analysis.”
“of course,” you said. “very rigorous scientific process.”
he pointed at your sketchbook. “you’re the one drawing emotional daisies.”
“artistic interpretation.”
“suspicious,” he muttered.
ellie looked between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. “you’re funny,” she announced to you. “my daddy makes jokes but they’re bad. i try to laugh to help but it hurts.”
will scoffed slightly. “she just met you.”
“she knows quality humor when she sees it. can't argue with that."
will opened his mouth to respond but immediately fumbled his ice cream instead. the cone tilted dangerously. he caught it at the last second. “…i meant to do that,” he said.
you raised an eyebrow. “very smooth.”
“thanks,” he said dryly.
ellie wandered a step closer to you again, peering into your sketchbook like she had earlier.
“can you draw my daddy?” she asked suddenly.
will nearly dropped the cone again, his nose now turning a rosy shade of pink to match his ears. “…what?”
ellie pointed at him proudly. “so she remembers you.”
“i don’t think that’s how that works.”
you looked between them, clearly amused. “well,” you said, “i might need him to stand still for more than three seconds.”
ellie nodded seriously. “daddy can do that. right?”
will looked skeptical. “i absolutely cannot.”
ellie ignored him. she leaned closer to you again, whispering loudly. “he gets shy. like when uncle james makes him look like a dummy.”
will made a noise of protest. “i do not—”
“you do,” she insisted.
you laughed quietly, shaking your head before glancing back up at him. “you seem like you’ve got your hands full.”
he looked down at ellie, who was now attempting to balance her ice cream on a rock while examining a flower.
“…that’s putting it mildly.” despite the mild exasperation in his tone, there was a warmth in his expression as he watched her. like his entire world was placed into one being. then his gaze drifted back at you.
“do you come here often?” he asked, immediately realizing how that sounded. he winced. “that sounded like a terrible pickup line.”
you breathed out a laugh.“it did. but i'll allow it."
“great.”
“but yes,” you said. “i sketch here sometimes.”
he nodded. “that’s cool. i mean…not cool like— you know what i mean.”
you tilted your head, enjoying his awkward spiral far too much. “i’m starting to. i think, i’m remembering that you’re shy.”
he gave you a sarcastic smile. “it’s really good, by the way. like— properly good. i can barely draw a stick figure without it looking… demonic.” he mimed a terribly crooked line in the air with his finger. “last time i tried drawing something ellie said it looked like a potato from mars.”
from the flowerbed ellie shouted. “it did!”
will groaned softly. “thank you, ellie.”
“you’re welcome!”
he glanced back at you with a helpless smile. “she’s very supportive of my endeavours.”
ellie walked over again and grabbed your hand. “you should come again tomorrow,” she declared.
will blinked. “ellie—”
“so you can draw more happy flowers.”
will rubbed his neck awkwardly again. “well… i mean… if you ever did happen to be here again,” he said cautiously, “ellie would probably… like that.”
you pretended to think about it. “hmm.”
ellie looked up at you with wide hopeful eyes.
“…i suppose i could.”
she gasped happily. “yay!”
will chuckled, then he hesitated for a moment before reaching into his pocket.
“i mean… uh…” he said, suddenly nervous again. “if you wanted… we could— i don’t know, coordinate butterfly patrol shifts or something.”
you raised an eyebrow. “that sounds very official.”
“very serious job. i mean have you seen the girl run? i've thought about getting the football training in early.” he jokes, pulling out his phone awkwardly. "we can exchange numbers?”
you smiled slightly and gave it to him.
ellie watched the exchange like she had just witnessed the most successful matchmaking operation in human history.
“told you,” she whispered proudly to you.
the weeks after that afternoon at the park seemed to unfold naturally, like something that had been waiting to happen all along. at first, it was small things. you ran into them at the park again a few days later. and although will insisted it wasn’t planned. even if he had suspiciously brought ellie to the exact same playground at the exact same time. ellie had spotted you first, unsurprisingly.
“she’s here!” she had shouted across the grass like she’d just found buried treasure, immediately abandoning the swing to sprint toward you.
from that point on, the park quietly became your place. some afternoons you’d bring your sketchbook and ellie would sit beside you, offering extremely serious artistic feedback alongside some help when you got stuck. bringing her own brand new drawing book and some crayons so that you two could draw together. and although hers were never as precise as yours, you were sure that they were always a thousand times better.
“that flower looks lonely,” she once said, frowning deeply. “it needs a friend.” so she drew another flower, red crayon adding in some squiggles in the faint shape of a flower.
will would sit nearby pretending to scroll through his phone. though half the time he was watching the two of you instead.
other times ellie insisted the three of you play together. she forced will down the slide once and he claimed it was against his dignity as an adult. ellie strongly disagreed. you laughed so hard he ended up doing it twice just to make you laugh again. on his last attempt he almost got stuck half way through and you had to help him pull himself out.
then came the ice cream trips...they were not dates. will made that very clear the first time.
“this isn’t a date,” he had said quickly while paying for the cones.
“of course not,” you replied.
ellie looked between both of you suspiciously. “then why are you smiling at each other?”
will nearly dropped his wallet.
after that, the ice cream outings became routine. sometimes you’d walk around the park afterward, ellie holding both of your hands as she told wildly exaggerated stories about kindergarten. sometimes will would offer to take you home if it was getting dark. those walks were quieter. just the two of you talking while ellie rode his shoulders, half asleep and clutching a stuffed bunny.
over time, something warm and steady began growing between the three of you. ellie adored you almost immediately. if you missed a day at the park, or a meeting or even a phone call she’d ask will where you were.
“maybe she’s busy,” he’d say.
“but she likes us,” ellie insisted.
he never knew how to answer that without smiling. and somewhere along the way, will fell completely and hopelessly for you. not in a dramatic, sweeping way. but in quiet moments you shared. the way you crouched down to ellie’s height when talking to her. the way you teased him without hesitation. the way ellie looked happier when you were around. he never said anything, partly because he didn’t want to ruin what the three of you had. and partly because every time he thought about asking you out properly, his brain short-circuited.
ellie, unfortunately, noticed everything.
“daddy likes you,” she told you once while will was twenty feet away buying her a hotdog.
you nearly choked on your drink, quickly shifting the conversation to something less volatile. though you had to admit that comment made the small blossom of hope in your chest bloom a bit brighter.
“ellie,” he said later, horrified when she told him what she had done, hoping he would appreciate her hard work.
“what?” she asked innocently.
“you can’t just say things like that.”
“but it’s true.”
she also took great joy in teasing him whenever possible. and will, he turned red every time.
“daddy gets nervous when you come over,” she told you proudly.
“i do not.”
“you do.”
meanwhile, you had fallen for both of them too. ellie had a way of making everything brighter. her attitude, that carefree spirit towards life and everything that came with it; that hadn’t yet been dimmed by the world’s pain. or, the curiosity she had for any and every new experience that came across her life. maybe it was the sparkle in her eyes and the hair that never truly seemed tamed. and will… well. the more time you spent with him, the easier it became to see how kind he was. how careful he was with ellie. how quietly thoughtful he could be even when he was tripping over every word he tried and failed to speak. it made your chest warm in ways you tried not to overthink.
which was how you ended up standing outside their apartment building one evening with a small bouquet of yellow tulips in your hands. earlier that week ellie had made a very, very, very important announcement.
“you have to come to dinner,” she told you firmly.
“oh?”
“i’m cooking.”
will nearly inhaled his drink. “you’re… what?”
“cooking dinner for everybody,” she repeated.
“right,” will said slowly. “with supervision.”
“daddy’s helping, but he’s not a good cook” she admitted kind of sad.
“good, but i’m an amazing cook. stop lying to her,” he muttered.
and now here you were, a bouquet of yellow tulip in hand. you knocked on the apartment door and there was immediate chaotic movement inside, the sound of a loud thud. a loud clatter. then ellie’s voice.
“wait wait wait—”
the door swung open. ellie stood there wearing a child-sized apron that was far too big for her, hair slightly messy, and what looked suspiciously like flour on her cheek. her face lit up the moment she saw you.
“you came!”
“of course i did,” you said warmly. you held out the flowers to her. “these are for the chef. i wanted to thank her graciously for inviting me.”
ellie gasped like you had handed her treasure. “flowers!”
she grabbed them carefully and held them to her chest.
“they’re tulips,” you explained, not that she particularly cared what type they were.
“i love them.”
behind her, will appeared in the kitchen doorway holding a wooden spoon and looking like he had just survived a small disaster. “…hi,” he sighed.
his hair was slightly messy, sleeves rolled up, and there was a faint splash of tomato sauce on his shirt.
you raised an eyebrow. "should i be concerned about the kitchen?”
will glanced over his shoulder. “…define concerned.”
from inside the apartment something made a suspicious plopping sound.
ellie beamed proudly. “i’m making spaghetti!”
will winced slightly. “we are making spaghetti,” he corrected gently.
ellie nodded. “but mostly me. he forgot to put the spaghetti in the water.”
he looked back at you. “it’s… a work in progress.”
ellie grabbed your hand excitedly. “come see! i picked out the sauce and everything!”
will followed behind you both like a man preparing to explain a crime scene. the kitchen looked… questionable. that seemed like a fitting descriptor. there was flour on the counter, tomato sauce on the stovetop. a bowl of noodles that appeared slightly overenthusiastic in quantity.
ellie pointed proudly to the pot. “spagetthi.”
will leaned closer to you slightly, lowering his voice. “…i’m monitoring the situation.”
you glanced at him. “brave man. but i think we may need more guests…that’s a lot of pasta.”
he sighed. “please stay,” he said quietly. “if i’m going down i need witnesses.”
ellie turned around suddenly. “dinner will be ready soon!”
you smiled. “take your time, chef. i trust you...”
will leaned against the counter beside you. “…this is either going to be amazing,” he said.
“or?”
“or we’re ordering pizza.”
ellie gasped. “no pizza.”
will raised his hands immediately. “right. no pizza. we trust the chef.”
about twenty minutes later ellie insisted dinner be served properly. which meant she fought with her father on how the table should be set. on what make shift vase should be used to hold her new flowers and in the end you were not allowed to sit just yet.
“wait!” she said, holding both hands out like a tiny traffic officer as you and will hovered near the dining table.
will blinked down at her. “what are we waiting for?”
ellie looked at him like he had personally disappointed her. “daddy.”
“what?”
she pointed dramatically at one of the chairs. “you have to do the thing.”
will frowned. “what thing?”
“the nice thing!”
he looked even more confused.
you leaned slightly against the table, clearly entertained. “don’t look at me, i'm just a guest." you said.
ellie huffed and stomped her little foot. “the chair thing!”
will stared at her for another two seconds before it finally clicked. “oh— oh.” his ears turned slightly pink.
“you mean—”
“yes,” ellie said impatiently.
will cleared his throat awkwardly before stepping around you. he pulled the chair out carefully.
“there,” he muttered.
ellie nodded approvingly. “good job.”
you raised an eyebrow as you sat. “well done.”
will rubbed the back of his neck. “i feel judged by a six-year-old.”
“you should,” you said.
ellie climbed into her own chair proudly. “i’m the boss.”
“that has become very clear,” will muttered.
a few minutes later, dinner was finally served. ellie carried a bowl of spaghetti with the careful determination of someone transporting priceless cargo. while will hovered nervously behind her in case gravity betrayed them and the maybe edible food took a nose dive to the floor.
she placed it down in the middle of the table triumphantly. “ta-da!”
will set down the plates beside it.
“…behold,” he said dryly. “spagetthi?"
ellie giggled. “daddy helped a little.”
“thank you for the credit,” he said.
you twirled some noodles around your fork.
“well chef,” you said to ellie. “this looks amazing.”
her whole face lit up. “really?!”
“really.”
will took a bite too.
he chewed thoughtfully. “…okay wait,” he said. “that’s actually really good.”
ellie beamed. “i told you!”
dinner quickly turned lively. ellie talked nonstop about everything from butterflies to preschool drama to the time her dad burned toast.
“that happened one time,” will said defensively.
“three times,” ellie corrected.
you covered your mouth to hide a laugh. then ellie suddenly leaned her chin in her hands and looked between the two of you with suspicious interest.
“so.”
will narrowed his eyes. “that tone worries me.”
ellie ignored him. “you should ask her.”
will froze mid-bite. “…ask her what.”
ellie shrugged like it was obvious. “to be your girlfriend.”
you nearly choked on your spaghetti.
“ellie,” will said slowly.
“yes?”
“we do not discuss that at the dinner table.”
“but you like her.”
will turned red. “i— that’s—”
ellie turned to you. “he does. sarah said her daddy turns red when her mommy says nice things about him. and when she said your shirt was nice you looked like rudolf!”
will groaned.
“i’m being sabotaged.”
you smirked slightly. “i’m enjoying the show. so it seems fine to me.”
ellie nodded proudly. “i’m helping.”
“helping what?” will asked.
“love.”
he stared at her.
“…you’re six.”
“i’m smart. mama said so.”
you laughed quietly, shaking your head.
eventually dinner ended with a surprisingly empty bowl of spaghetti.
ellie hopped down from her chair immediately, onto the next thing she could meddle her way into. “dessert time!”
will stood too. “i’ll help—”
“no.” she pointed at him sternly. “you stay.”
he blinked. “…why?”
“because.” she leaned toward him and made a very exaggerated “secret” gesture with her hand pointing between him and you. it was the least subtle thing imaginable.
will stared at her. “ellie.”
she whispered…rather loudly. “ask her.” then she scampered into the kitchen.
you and will sat there in silence for a second. from the kitchen came the sound of freezer drawers opening. and very quiet giggling. very very quiet, no one could hear her cackling not even herself.
will rubbed his face. “…i’m never going to recover from this.”
you leaned back in your chair. “she’s efficient, i'll give her that.definitely got that one from her mom.”
he laughed nervously. “yeah.”
another quiet pause settled between you. will fiddled with his hands on the table for a moment before finally looking up.
“…so,” he said.
you waited.
he immediately looked like he regretted starting the sentence. “i— uh—” he laughed awkwardly, tapping his fingers against the table. “this is going terribly already.”
you smiled slightly. “take your time. i know you’re shy sweetie.”
he took a breath. “right. okay.” he ran a hand through his hair. “i was wondering—” he stopped. then tried again. “i mean we already hang out a lot but—” another pause, sharper this time. “…i’m really bad at this.”
you rested your chin in your hand. “really? i hadn’t noticed.”
he huffed a laugh. “thanks.”
from the kitchen came a faint thump followed by barley suppressed giggling.
will closed his eyes briefly. “she’s listening.”
“obviously.”
he looked back at you. “…would you maybe want to go on a real date with me?” he added quickly. “like— an official one. not ice cream that isn’t a date.”
you tilted your head slightly. “hmm.”
will braced himself. “that sounds… suspiciously like you’re considering saying no.”
you smiled.
“i was considering making you suffer a little longer.”
he groaned. “please don’t. she already thinks i’m a wimp.”
“but,” you added gently, “yes.”
he blinked. “…yes?”
“yes will.”
his whole expression softened instantly with relief and quiet happiness. “okay,” he said, smiling now. “good.”
from the kitchen came the unmistakable sound of delighted giggling, bordering on delighted cackling sounded. ellie burst out laughing like someone who had just witnessed the best moment of her life.
will sighed. “she’s going to hold this over me forever.”
you laughed. “i think she already is.”
a moment later ellie reappeared carryimg the tub of ice cream and three spoons, grinning like a mastermind whose plan had succeeded perfectly. because it did. and that was the beginning of your perfectly imperfect little family.
