PULL ME CLOSERᵎᵎ WS²
╰ Synopsis You’re used to Will keeping his hands subtle in public, but tonight he has no mind on that; pulling you between his legs at the bar, kissing you sweetly in front of everyone, holding you close the whole time.
tags/contains Will Smith x fem!reader. Fluff, established relationship, touch starved in public, subtle pda, pda, kissing in front of others, obsessed will, requested.
➺ from Sera, to you📨. Could you tell I had no idea what to do with this?
masterlist ᥫ᭡ please reblog this fic if you enjoyed it!
If you knew one person who hated pda in front of others, it was your boyfriend, Will.
At home it was one story. The second the front door clicked shut behind you, he’d be on you; arms wrapping around your waist from behind, chin hooking over your shoulder while you tried to kick off your shoes, lips brushing the side of your neck like he couldn’t wait another second.
He’d pull you down onto the couch with him, long legs tangling with yours, hands sliding under your hoodie to rest warm against your stomach, fingers tracing lazy circles until you laughed and squirmed.
He’d kiss you slow and deep like he was making up for every minute you’d spent apart, murmuring against your mouth how much he’d missed you, how pretty you looked even in sweatpants and his hoodie that swallowed you whole.
He’d cuddle into your side during movie nights, head on your chest, one hand always finding yours to lace your fingers together, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. Sometimes he’d just hold you from behind while you cooked, swaying slightly like it was a slow dance, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder blade whenever you reached for something on the counter.
He hated the thought of having his hands off you.
But the moment you stepped outside; it was a completely different story.
In public, Will kept it subtle. Always touching, but never made it obvious. A hand resting low on your back as you walked through a crowded bar. Fingers brushing yours when he passed you a drink. His knee pressed lightly against yours under the table at dinner with teammates.
He’d drape an arm across the back of your chair, thumb occasionally grazing your shoulder, but nothing that screamed couple in the way other couples did: sloppy kisses, loud declarations, hands everywhere like they were staking claim in neon.
And you were fine with it. You’d been together a little over a year now, long enough that you’d learned his rhythm. You weren’t big on pda either, you didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. The way he looked at you when no one else was watching, the way his eyes softened the second you walked into a room, the things he’d whisper to you when it was just the two of you was enough.
He wasn’t embarrassed of you. If anything, he loved showing you off in his own way. He’d introduce you to new people with his arm casually looped around your shoulders, proud smile tugging at his lips every time someone complimented how good you looked together.
He’d text you links to articles or tiktoks with captions like “Us” and half of them were disgustingly couple-y. He just didn’t want other people seeing the parts of him that belonged only to you. The greedy way he held you at home, the way he’d bury his face in your neck and breathe you in like you were oxygen.
Tonight you and Will went out with a few of his teammates to the bar a couple blocks from the rink that had become your unofficial spot. It wasn’t anything fancy, just something you all learned to enjoy going to. You’d dressed like you always did for a place like this: nothing too revealing, nothing too casual.
Will included you in every conversation like he always did. He’d lean in when Macklin was ranting about a bad call from the last game, repeating the punchline so you could laugh too, or he’d nudge you gently and say, “Babe, tell them what you said about that hit exactly.” His voice easy, and his eyes stayed on you longer than usual.
When the bartender came over, Will ordered your usual without asking and then slid it toward you with a small.
A little while later, you moved on the barstool. “I’ll be right back,” you murmured, slipping your hand from his.
Will nodded once, but as you stood, he reached over and tugged your glass closer to his spot, fingers brushing the condensation like he was guarding it. His other hand lingered in the air for half a second where yours had been before dropping back to the bar.
Once you came back from the bathroom after quickly fixing your lip combo in the mirror light, touching up the gloss that had faded from sipping your drink, you found Will still perched on his barstool, facing his teammates.
If you’d gone straight back to your own seat next to him, his broad back would’ve been turned to you the whole time. But the second he caught sight of you weaving through the crowd, his arm reached out without hesitation.
His fingers found yours, locking tight, and he tugged you gently toward him instead of letting you slide back onto your stool. “C’mere,” he murmured.
You let him pull you in, stepping right between his spread thighs until your hips brushed the edge of the stool. Your hands landed on his chest for balance, as he looked up at you.
“Where’d you go?” he asked, even though he knew.
“Bathroom,” you said, smiling despite yourself. “Took longer than I thought, someone was hogging the mirror.”
He hummed, the sound vibrating through his chest, and then he leaned in. The kiss was slow, sweet, nothing rushed or sloppy. Just his lips pressing to yours like it was the most normal thing in the world, his one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck while the other stayed locked with yours at his side.
Your breath caught. Will almost never kissed you in public, not where anyone could see. For a heartbeat you froze, surprised, but then you melted into it, leaning forward until your forehead brushed his when he finally pulled back.
He didn’t say anything about it. Just handed you your unfinished vodka soda with a small, crooked smile.
You turned with him so you were facing the group again, your back settling against his chest. His arm came across your front, forearm resting easy over your collarbone, fingers splayed loose but possessive against your shoulder. His other hand found your waist, every few minutes he’d tug you closer, like he couldn’t quite get enough, even though you were already pressed flush against him.
Macklin raised an eyebrow, smirk tugging at his mouth. “You finally figure out how arms work tonight?”
Will just tightened his hold a little, chin dipping to rest lightly on your shoulder as he shot Macklin a lazy look. “Shut up, Mack,” he said a little amused.
You stayed like that for a while, cocooned against him, his heartbeat steady against your back. His fingers kept moving in small, absent strokes along your waist, thumb brushing the underside of your ribs every now and then.
Eventually your heels started screaming. Standing this long in them, even leaning into him, made your calves burn.
You tilted your head back just enough to murmur against his jaw, “My legs are killing me.”
Will’s arm loosened instantly. “Sit,” he said softly, kissing the shell of your ear before letting you go.
For the rest of the night, Will didn’t let the space between you grow. He kept one hand on you at all times: resting on your thigh when you were back on your stool, thumb drawing slow, mindless patterns over the denim; sliding up to play with the ends of your hair when you laughed at something one of the guys said; brushing your lower back.
Every few minutes he’d press a quick kiss to your temple, or drop his chin to your shoulder just to murmur something dumb and sweet.
You were happy for it. The warmth of his palm against your skin felt like nice in public. The guys ribbed him lightly but Will just shrugged it off with a smile and never pulled away.
By the time you both said goodbyes and stepped out into the cool night air, your cheeks were flushed from the bar’s heat and from the way his hand had stayed tangled with yours the whole walk to the car.
When you got home, the apartment was quiet, you kicked the door shut behind you, already reaching to slip off your heels, but Will beat you to it.
He dropped to one knee right there at the edge of the bed, fingers gentle around your ankle as he lifted your foot and eased the first heel off. Then the second, thumbs pressed into the arch of your foot for a second, massaging away the ache without being asked.
You watched him, heart doing that stupid fluttery thing it always did with him. “What’s gotten into you tonight?” you asked quietly.
He glanced up, brows lifting like he had no idea what you meant. “What? I always do this.” He asked setting your foot down and standing.
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “No, I mean.. being so touchy in front of everyone, kissing me like that. You never do that.”
He paused, then took your hand in both of his. Slowly he brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, eyes never leaving yours. “Can’t a guy show how much he loves his girlfriend?”
You laughed softly. “You never do it like that.”
He tilted his head, mock offended. “What? I always show everyone how much I love you.”
“Yeah,” you said, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw, “but not in a way that makes Macklin tease you for ten straight minutes.”
Will’s expression softened. You pulled him down to you, as he started crawling over you until his weight settled warm and solid, knees sinking into the comforter on either side of your hips.
He braced himself on his forearms so he wasn’t crushing you, but close enough that you could feel every breath he took.
“I love you,” he said simply, as if it was the easiest truth in the world. His forehead rested against yours for a second before he kissed you, the kind of kiss he usually saved for when the door was locked and the lights were off. “I just.. wanted to be close to you tonight. Didn’t want to wait until we got home to touch you the way I always want to.”
His hand slid up to cradle the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone. “I like when we keep things private. But sometimes..” He exhaled. “Sometimes I look at you laughing with the guys, or just sitting there looking like mine, and I want everyone to know.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down until his chest pressed to yours. “That’s sweet,” you whispered against his mouth. “I liked tonight a lot.”
He smiled and kissed you again. “Me too.”
His hands found yours, fingers lacing tight as he settled more of his weight over you, like he was trying to memorize every inch of how you fit together.
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