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.
content: 18+! dom!willne, breeding kink galore, hot make out session, pinv, unprotected sex, dry humping, feral and unhinged will ngl, cursing
a/n: i got so horny writing this.
🎤 taglist: @italianclarke @writer-jamie @williamlenneys @bambilenny @anglpris @an0nym0nst3r @sturnl0ve @ghostwrittenbygrace @firstofnell @lilyyxoii @rubi-radio @luvbuttlestv @lxzzxebunny @luvlenney @catlenneys @l3nney @ava0609 @prettylittleglamlifex @pretendyoucantseeme @sonnybunnies @themdera -> pls lmk if you want to be added! :)
it was all will could think about during that evening in bosnia. the child. the little boy that, in hindsight, did ‘ruin’ his and mikey’s perfect footage from their little shopping spree interlude for the video he was recording for the main channel.
however, this was different. as will nursed his pint, the interaction with the little boy stayed fixated in his mind. the warmth he felt as the small lad had attempted to take his microphone, the warmth he felt as he called him a ‘cheeky sod’— it all stuck. lingering there, almost as if it was tormenting him.
his brain now was replaying the interaction over and over again, causing his mind to brew with a multitude of ‘what ifs?’ and regrets of missed opportunities as the soft instrumentals of the bosnian bar fizzed into background noise around him.
how he craved for that joy again. there was something about his paternal instincts in that clip— as it continued to play in his mind repeatedly like a broken record— which clung onto him like a shadow. if anything, the joy he had gotten from it was addicting, a happy stimulant to his brain— almost drug-like, that he didn’t ever want to lose.
and it wasn’t like will was getting any younger. no, he himself, knew that. and in all honesty, that pained will even more. the steps to parenthood were steep but he couldn’t help but shift how good and relieving it felt to watch a child smile with pure elation at doing something which was relatively silly to anyone else other than them.
the rest of the time at the bosnian bar was a blur to will. as the taxi now back to the hotel was torturous. it was too slow for will, not with his raging mind anyways.
he was fidgety, the lingering thought that he didn’t want to waste away his life anymore causing him to adjust the rings on his fingers subconsciously as a result— as he tried to find anything to ease his mind.
uneasy thoughts plagued his mind, swimming erratically around his head. what if you said no? what if this was all some mistake? what if he was being selfish? it didn’t help that you’d both not expressed your opinions about having children before this, which added into will’s already dooming spiral of doubt.
a mix of adrenaline and ultimately fear was what eventually made the taxi journey seem like nothing. will practically stumbled out of the vehicle, his limbs woozy from not only the alcohol but the cocktail of emotions that his body was experiencing all at once, whilst his brain fixated on one thing: you.
the moment will stepped into your shared hotel room, he was on autopilot. there was a faint scent of vanilla and the room seemed a little warmer than usual, hinting that you’d just had or recently had a shower before he’d finished filming.
will felt his own welcoming warmth fester in his lower stomach. he felt relaxed in the presence of you, carefree, like it was where he was meant to be. so, his feet subconsciously brought him deeper into your rather large hotel for the evening, his whole being driven by his lingering desire to become a father some time on this trip.
as he proceeded on, will sighed contently when he finally caught his eye at the sight of you as he walked fully into the room. he was now met with you dressed in your loungewear, comfortably hugging your still slightly wet body in some places, whilst your hair was also still a little damp from being in the shower too.
you turned around, sensing someone else in the room. your eyes softened as you realised it was will, smiling.
he continued to walk up to you, with purpose it seemed before you could even speak. and when you did, you were immediately cut off. “oh hell—oh.”
will moved onto you quickly before you could even finish your sentence, his large hands coming up to cradle your cheeks with a gentleness that contrasted the ferocity of the kiss he gave you itself.
he almost growled into your mouth as your hands tangled in his hair subconsciously moments after. his large hands moved down to your shirt, daring to push themselves underneath the fabric as he kissed harsher— more passionately as you felt his ragged, uncontrolled, hot breaths on your face.
you moaned into him stupidly, your limbs turning into melted butter as you moulded against his body, kissing with the same passion he gave you. you smiled as his lips pressed harder, more passionately as if he wanted to dominate every inch of you.
his arms wrapped around you tightly, as he took a swift step forwards, making his way towards the large king-size bed you’d both be sharing for the evening. your heart pounded in your chest, and you could swear you could feel will’s too against your skin too. in the same erratic rhythm. like you were both as one.
your shins abruptly hit the plush mattress behind you as you faltered for a second. your’s and will’s lips parted from each other for a moment so you could both catch your breath. however, will was quickly latched back onto you, one large hand now entangled in your hair, pushing your lips even deeper onto his, as if he couldn’t get enough of you in that moment.
will then pushed you gently onto your back on top of the bed. he crawled on top of you, his demeanour softening as he kissed you gentler now— more tenderly, even.
it allowed you to catch your breath for a moment. kissing him more slowly, letting yourself fully melt into the kiss as will then moved himself so he could trace your jaw softly with his lips, causing you to shiver.
though, he brought his lips back up to you, pressing one final deep kiss onto them before he then removed his mouth from your’s. he let his eyes drink up your beauty below him, breathing heavier than usual as you both lay in a silence that spoke much louder than any words could ever do.
you could smell the faint aroma of beer on his breath as he breathed more softly, his nose now nudging your own. “you’d make such a good mother, you know” will then spoke breathlessly as he continued to take in your frame.
it felt like a confession. if anything, it was one. it was something raw— passionate, even from will, as you both let the comment linger in your mingled, soft breaths.
your heart pounded inside your chest. it drummed a rhythm you’d never felt it play before. not because of or with fear, no, instead it was an overwhelming feeling of love and admiration for the man who stayed on top of you, as his two brooding arms caged you in below him.
“you think?” you whispered ever so softly, your voice feathery and gentle. your eyes were wide as you maintained eye contact with will from below, whose lips were slightly agape and cheeks flushed the lightest shade of pink.
“yeah.” will confirmed as he nodded, before chuckling, “hell, i don’t just ‘think’, i know.”
you could’ve sworn in that moment you felt your pussy become damper than it was before. hot blood of tense, raw emotion surged through your veins as will’s assuredness caused you to take a sharp intake of breath in an attempt to compose yourself.
you opened your mouth to speak, but will was quick to put a finger over your plush lips ever so tenderly. “don’t,” he spoke breathy, yet his eyes were wide and pleading.
your own hand came to move will’s hand from your mouth, before you spoke. “will,” you began, “are you telling me that you want to have a child?”
the silence came back immediately again. swallowing you both whole in it’s tense awkwardness. it loomed uncomfortably, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. waiting. waiting for someone to break it.
will then cleared his throat before an uncomfortable lump formed inside of it. “yeah,” he confessed hoarsely, before clearing his throat again for some composure.
there was a quick beat of silence before you began again. “yes,” you then repeated, clearer and more confident now, whilst your eyes became softer with even more emotion again, “yes, i want to have a child with you.”
will’s eyes widened in shock. his mouth was dry with awe, his heart now pounding at the revelation. “seriously?” he practically choked out, whilst now dumbfounded and taken aback.
you breathed deeply, gaining some composure. “yeah,” you whispered again, “it’s not like we’re getting any younger, is it?”
will laughed in response. “yeah, suppose you’re right.”
“no. i am right,” you said confidently, “and you know it”. you added, whilst your forehead rested against his which was covered in a thin layer of sweat.
will took a sharp intake of breath before he spoke again, trying to calculate how to say his words in the best way. “you’d look so sexy pregnant, you know,” will said quieter than usual.
he then gulped as the silence lay thick again, clearing the nervousness that wanted to grow in his throat, “it’s something i think about a lot. which i know is fucking disgusting.”
you could feel the faint imprint of will’s cock against your leg as he continued to ramble on. you smirked to yourself at his filthy confession, before looking up at him again. “you know i’m being serious, right? i want to have your kids. no need to fantasise with me, let’s make it a reality.”
will’s breath hitched again, his stomach churning with a type of devilish excitement. “a-are you sure?” he asked again, just to make sure.
you rolled your eyes, before speaking again. “for fuck’s sake will, just give me your kids. and stop talking,” you basically growled against his lips, your hands grabbing onto his t-shirt.
before he could speak, you pressed your lips deeply onto his, letting him melt back into the moment of passion.
that kiss, along with the words of affirmation too, was all will needed as the green light on the situation. he growled into your mouth again, his top row of teeth nibbling on your bottom lip a little until it was a rawer red colour.
you let out a sharp gasp, your hand trailing down will’s front slowly. your fingertips feverishly coming to grab the bottom hem of his white t shirt, but not letting him strip just yet. one of your hands pressed against his stomach, (the other tugging on the back of his head), slowly dipping lower, grazing teasingly over his hardened member confined and blocked by his trousers.
“you don’t know how badly i’ve wanted this,” will panted breathlessly, his cheeks flushed red as you started to remove his tee from his body, quickly discarding it to the ground.
your own hands came up to your pyjama top as you started to remove it. you tossed it to the side, like you did to will’s, before you spoke again.
“oh yeah?” you laughed, slightly breathless too, all with a bold smirk on your face. “well c’mon then, handsome. fuck a baby into me,” you teased, but the fire of passionate desire behind your eyes burnt brightly.
will chuckled darkly. “challenge accepted, beautiful,” he mumbled, his lips soon attaching to yours again like a magnetic force drew you both together.
your back pressed down on the soft mattress below you, the crisp white sheets becoming ruined as you and will kissed with so much passion. his hardened bulge grinded against your clothed cunt, now making you panties sticky and wet, as he dared to dip his tongue into your mouth.
you let out a strangled noise in response which was a mix between a gasp and a groan, your hips rutting against his clothed member as your one of your hands slid into his brown mullet, whilst the other cupped his jaw, pressing his lips deeper onto your own.
will let out a grunt. “fuck, i need to be inside you,” he muttered against your lips, his own hips now rutting in a rhythm with you.
your limbs at this point were tangled and intertwined with his as you looked up at will, your expression flushed and full of lust. “not yet,” you managed, before letting a moan slip out, “wanna stay like this for a little longer.”
so you did. you both continued to dry hump each other for a couple of more minutes, groping each other passionately and hungrily in the process. your nails dragged down will’s chest, feeling the hairs that had started to grow across his pecs. whilst will’s hands massaged your boobs, his thumbs rubbed your nipples into sensitive, hardened peaks all whilst your clothed abdomens also continued to clash in a electric rhythm.
it just eventually got to the time where you both just snapped.
your lips left will’s abruptly, leaving him scorching hot with lust and overall confused. “take your trousers off,” you commanded lowly, your hands already frantically grabbing at will’s belt, fumbling to take it off.
the leather soon went clunk as will slid it quickly out of his belt loops, throwing it onto the floor like discarded junk. you laughed as your hand fumbled with the fly to his trousers, before attempting to help him wriggle out of those too.
soon he was just left in his boxers as his hands came back to work on you. two thick fingers hooked under the elastic of your pyjama shorts, tugging them downwards and slipped off of your ankles and onto the floor too.
you giggled, biting at your bottom lip as you watched will’s eyes dilate with lust and excitement. he was practically salivating at the sight of your soaked panties, licking his lips with anticipation.
you both soon tugged your soiled and ruined underwear off of your bodies, tossing them without a care in the world too.
will’s hands came and engulfed your thighs, tugging you closer towards him. “c’mere, pretty,” he mumbled, before settling himself between them.
your pussy fluttered at the compliment. before you then bit your lip again as you watched in awe at how his cock bounced against his lower stomach, red and angry with lust. then, one of his large hands came and wrapped around his dick, giving it a few concise pumps.
once he was satisfied with his erection, he spit on his shaft, smearing the saliva around the erect, hard length. after, will then brought the tip up to nudge against your already sopping wet folds. you mewled as he collected some slick on his throbbing tip, letting out a sigh of content as he looked down at you with a smug grin on his face.
after that, will slid himself in with a guttural groan. your hips jolted forwards in response, your eyes becoming wide as your cunt walls tried to accommodate for his size, your body overwhelmed for a short moment.
“fuck!” you cursed softly, letting your head rest against the mattress now, your hair flowing messy below you.
will started off slow, but soon found a bold pace. it was merciless and hard, hitting that good spongy spot that made you see stars. you couldn’t even attempt to swallow your moans as the feeling was that good, and it made will chuckle deeply whilst above you.
“yeah? you like that?” he practically panted, thrusting deep and hard into you.
your eyes began to roll back, your hips struggling to match his pace. “mhm,” you mewled, “s-so good.”
will chuckled again. “good. because i’m gonna fuck you until you only scream my name.”
you sighed contently, pleasure surging through your veins like hot electricity. your hips rolled erratically with will’s deep, unmeasured thrusts causing all the breath to leave your throat. your whole body throbbed— vibrated, even— with pure ecstasy as you just let will fuck you like he wasn’t a person, and was instead a feral animal.
“gonna fill you up, pet,” he grunted between thrusts. he then brought one of his hands down to your lower stomach, so he could feel you belly bulge. “you feel that, baby? that’s where i’m going to put my baby— our baby.” he panted again, his pace quickening gradually more and more.
you looked at him with a blissed out expression, a large smile plastered across your face as some stray hairs began to stick to your forehead. will’s fingernails dug deep into your skin, causing red, burning marks to cover the sensitive flesh. but you didn’t care. all you could think about was carrying his child, and that’s all will could think about too.
he brought his face down to your ear, grunting into your ear. “you’re going to look so hot carryin’ our kid, darling,” he spoke gravelly into your ear, the tone like thick tar to your blissed out self as you began to pant— your breath now uncontrolled as you teetered on the edge of glory.
moans spilled out of both of your mouths as the room began to smell of sweat and sex. will had now gripped onto your thighs again, pushing them wide so he could thrust even deeper into you, causing you to see blissful white.
“yes, oh god!” you exclaimed, your throat hoarse and raw from all the moaning you’d already been doing, “w-will, ‘m so close, yes!”
you could sense will was close too. at this point, he’d become a grunting, groaning and moaning mess of a man. his grip was so tight that it was like he was about to break your bones from the intensity of his grasp on your legs. his movements had become sloppy too, the slapping of your skin now widely apparent within the room.
you moaned loudly again, looking up at will. “are you close?” you asked breathlessly, “cause i need to come. fuck ‘m gonna come!”
will gritted his teeth. “yes. oh fuck!— yes,” he responded through gritted teeth, “gonna fill you up so much it’s drippin’ out of that pretty cunt of your’s, darling.”
one of will’s hands came down to your pussy as his thumb began circling your clit in fast, circular motions. in that moment, you were long gone, your release ready to come crumbling down on you in one swift motion. you felt your thighs trembling uncontrollably with the intensity of your orgasm impatiently ready to come and crash over you.
one final moan ripped raw from your chest as you felt your orgasm crash down on you with a final thrust and rub of your cunt from will. “will!” you screamed out loud as your cunt walls clamped down on his dick, “oh, will!”
will’s hands clamped down on you even tighter as your pussy milked him dry. hot shoots and spurts of his sticky white seed shot out of his dick, painting your walls and insides fully white. he sighed with relief, breathing heavily as he kept his dick nuzzled deep inside of you, not allowing any of his release to drip out of you.
will breathed deeply. “holy shit,” he said as his voice shook a little, “you’re amazing.”
you giggled, your face burning with a crimson blush. “yeah? you’re amazing too, you know,” you said with a loving smile.
after a couple of moments, will slowly removed his now softened dick from your slick, sensitive pussy. you winced a little at the removal, before sighing as he flopped down next to you on the bed. he looked as dishevelled as you were, his eyes wide yet loving as he pressed a tender kiss to your lips.
you smiled. “that side of you is so hot, by the way,” you said after, your voice merely a whisper.
“mmm? yeah, you liked that?” will chuckled, gently tracing the side of your body, whilst a hand came to press softly on your stomach as if you were already pregnant.
“yeah,” you confessed breathlessly. you looked at him again before speaking, “are we.. going to do this again any time soon?”
“most likely, yeah,” he laughed heartily at the question, making sure to look at you before he spoke again. “because all i know is,” he mumbled, voice dangerously low, “there is no way in hell that by the end of this trip you won’t be pregnant. mark my words, pet.”
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
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
summary: you and will have been broken up for 7 months now. you have even found someone else to fill the empty spot he would occupy in your bed. so when he calls you out of the blue on a friday night in the early hours of the morning, you cannot fight the temptation to answer the phone.
warnings/content: 1.5k word count, angst, swearing, im not really sure im sorry guys if there's anything i add say let me know :)
The frequent buzzing beside you is what woke you up. Your phone, face down on your nightstand, the blue light peeking through the sides as it rang. You thought it was just a spam caller, ignoring it and shifting your body towards the opposite direction, facing the boy you’ve been seeing for a month. He was different. Different from the usual guys you would date. He was more serious, and had a different type of humour you can’t get your head around. But, it was still nice to feel another warm body in your bed after long days.
Your phone has stopped buzzing, your mind quickly bringing you back to your peaceful slumber.
Then it started again. The noise makes you quickly snap your head in that direction. You acted fast, your arm flying to grab it and answer, not even looking at the contact name.
“Hello?” your voice grogged, bringing yourself to lay flat on your back with one hand rubbing your eyes awake. Still adjusting to the disturbance of the phone call, you could hear the sound of people chattering, glasses clinking, and heavy breathing.
“Bear? Are you there?”
Your eyes widened, nobody had called you that in months. And only one person ever did.
It was a name picked up from the amount of times you would give him a bear hug. After a long day at work, all he wanted was to be wrapped up with his bear and her bear hugs.
“Will?” you whispered, quickly jolting your body upwards in your bed, hitting your head on your bedframe. You let out a wince, throwing your legs over the side of your bed and finding your slippers. You quietly left the room, hoping to not wake the man in the bed.
You heard him let out a sigh of relief, a small laugh escaping his lips. He loved the way you said his name, and by the sound of abrupt movements on your end of the line, he knew he had your full attention.
Your hand made its way to the back of your head, gently rubbing the spot that had just hit against your bedframe. You were puzzled by the phone call, checking the time on the clock in your living room. 1:42AM.
“Will, wh- what? It’s late. Are you alr-”
“I miss you.” he spoke, his tone breathy and the words coming out like it took everything in him to utter. Your back leant on the wall behind you, your mouth slightly agape. Out of all the possibilities of picking up the phone, you did not expect it to be your ex-boyfriend.
He promised you he would never try to call you, believing he was doing what you wanted. You didn’t want him to stop calling, but in order to minimise the pain, you nodded your head while a tear made its way down your cheek. He never did anything wrong, but you felt that he would slowly become miserable with you. Your ‘off’ days would cause you to completely shut him out, and despite his attempts to talk to you, you couldn’t find the energy to explain how you felt. He didn’t deserve that, so you chose to end it with him. The day replayed in your mind, the change of his facial expressions and the way his coffee mug dropped when you told him you wanted to break up. Regrettably, you never fully told him why. If you did, he would’ve fought harder to keep you. But you didn’t want to watch life leave his eyes if he were to stay.
“I’m sorry. I just…Arthur said you’re seeing somebody else. Is that true, Bear?” his voice cracked. He was out at the pub with his friends and Arthur had let it slip. Arthur didn’t realise he had mentioned it.
“Mate! Why are you hitting me under the table?” Arthur shouted, looking at Chris as he gestured towards Will. Arthur quickly realised, apologies flowing from his mouth but Will had already walked away from the table, grabbing his phone from his pocket and scrolling to find your contact.
You didn’t reply, you could picture his face if you were to confirm what he had heard and you didn’t want to break his heart even more. But silence itself is an answer.
The silence grows longer, his hand finding the crook in between his eyes as his index and thumb rest there. His eyebrows furrowed, his voice letting out sounds as if he were to start sentences but couldn’t find the words. You bit your nails, your body lightly swaying side to side as you knew you were the reason his night would be ruined.
“Fuck,” he croaked, his hand dropping from his face to his chest. “What’s his name?”
“Please, Will…don’t” you sighed. Any detail about your relationship would send him into a spiral, even the simplicity of his name.
Even though you were with someone new, you missed Will. You knew the ins and outs of his mind, and no amount of time could erase that from your mind.
You moved away from the wall near your bedroom towards the couch, looking back to see if any movement were to come from the bedroom. You didn’t want him to wake up, having to explain you aren’t in bed because your ex called you.
Will exhales, his head thrown back to the wall behind him, his hand drifting the phone away from his ear. You sat on the couch, waiting for him to say something. You were scared of what more would come out of his mouth. But you feared the unpredictability of how you would reply even more.
He gripped his phone tighter, bringing it back to the side of his face. “I haven’t even looked in the direction of another girl since we split,” his tone was harsher than before, “I can’t look at anyone else. All I see is you.”
You felt guilty. You didn’t mean for him to be unable to find someone, hell, you didn’t even expect yourself to be in a month-long relationship already. A sorry escaped your mouth, sincerely apologising. You had so much to say to him, so much you wanted to tell him.
“It’s not fair. Not at all,” his tone was still harsh, but you could hear the cracks in his voice as he spoke, “I can’t even bring myself to be mad at you, y’know?” This time, his voice broke. He wiped the tears that appeared on his face, his lungs trying to catch any air in an attempt to calm himself down. He sniffled, a slight chuckle as he tried to centre himself. “Bear?” he whispered.
“Do you still love me?”
The question threw you off, your hand covering your mouth as you choked back tears. You did love him, that was the only thing you could not convince yourself of otherwise. You couldn’t tell him that, what kind of person would you be if you did? You feel your chest becoming compressed, your hand applying pressure against it. The fabric of your pyjamas becoming irritable and you could feel every hair on your head
His breath was heavy on the other line, his hand remained over his heart while he melted down the wall onto the cobblestone street. His eyes were glassy, his cheeks flushed a light red as he waited for any response. Anything that would tell him what to do
“I-” The bedroom door creaked open, your boyfriend standing in the frame, his hand remained on the handle. You gasped, quickly hanging up the phone and setting it face down on the couch next to you. He rubbed the palm of his hand on his eye, looking at you on the couch.
“Hey. Why aren’t you in bed? It’s late.” he questioned. The room was too dark to make out the obvious upset expression on your face. You stood up from the couch, fast, making your way towards the bedroom door.
You didn’t look up at him, you just dragged your body onto the cold mattress, covering yourself with the duvet and looking at the emptiness in the rest of the bed. Your boyfriend didn’t come back right away, so you stared at the dip in the mattress of where he was sleeping. You didn’t want him to lay back down and fill it, you wanted to sit in the memory of who used to occupy that spot.
On the other end, Will’s phone couldn’t leave the side of his ear. It would mean it was over, and that the answer he didn’t want was the answer he was receiving. He didn’t move, he couldn’t. How would he be able to go back inside and act like everything was okay? He knew the boys would ask if he was alright, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to them. So he sat there, the cold breeze brushing against his arms and his eyes unable to hold back anymore tears.
His hand dropped, his phone fidgeting in between both of them as he closed his eyes. “You alright?” James asked, suddenly appearing in front of him.
“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”
part one of THE ALCHEMY.
part two here
pairing: will lenney x fem!reader
warnings & tags: friends to lovers. idiots with tension. idiots in denial. slowish burn. lots of nerdy football talk + a side of Willne.
summary: The two times you were recruited to play in a Sidemen charity match, and the one time you score.
a/n: hello!!! this is based on the 2022 sidemen charity match, but for convenience purposes, it's set in 2023. for the plot, of course.
also, i’m tired of looking at this so this is being posted without review! i promise part two will have more will, i’m just setting us up for success in part one. you’ll absolutely love it.
please enjoy <3
wc: idek at this point
The buzz that interrupted your sleep wasn’t what concerned you, it’s the fact that after you had hung up the first and second time, there was a third call. Begrudgingly, you toss your sheets aside and sit up, eyeing the phone on the bedside table. To no surprise, it was Simon.
You were no stranger when it came to working with the Sidemen. Starting off as a crew member who was good with a camera, slowly you were incorporated into videos, and eventually had the confidence to create your own platform. After leaving the Sidemen to focus on building your solo career, most of your audience didn't know where you gained your footing, becoming a bigger public figure outside of their work.
Getting a phone call from Simon wasn't uncommon, needless to say. You were always ready to film, to bring in new ideas for them, to be on set. After all, you had been friends with the lads for years.
"Hello?" you croak, trying to smooth down the hair that was knotted in the back of your head.
"Y/n! How are you, mate?" Simon's voice was overly chipper and sweet, too sweet. You eye your phone for a moment before pressing it back up to your ear. It was too early in the morning for either of you to be awake.
"Christ, Simon, I know you aren't just calling me at seven in the morning to ask how I am," you replied. Simon sighs briefly before letting out an airy chuckle.
"Alright, I need to ask you for a favor." That's what you were expecting. His voice hesitant and low, it made you wonder what this could really be about.
"Okay, go on then," you yawn. You weren't sure why Simon was being so ominous; you had done the lad loads of favors in the past. Bringing in extra camera crew, reaching out to other influencers, helping plan out events-
"Would you sub in for Andres for the charity match next week? I know it's last minute, but he had other conflicts, and you're one of my best mates. You-" Simon rambles before you swiftly interject.
"Simon, what are you waffling on about? You can't be serious," you say seriously. The grogginess from waking up immediately disappears, and you begin to regret picking up the phone.
"I know it's mad, but we've tossed around a ball quite a bit before-"
"I haven't seriously played footy since I was in secondary school! I can't imagine the shit I'd get if I were to even step foot into that stadium."
"I know-"
"And I'm the only girl! That's like a misogynist's nightmare, a woman who can think and compete!" Getting on your feet, you pace around your room like a madman. Your free hand finds its way into your hair, coarsing through it multiple times, stressfully.
"Would you let me finish? Then you can decide if it's bollocks or not," Simon asked finally. You heave out a breath of air and then hum in response. The least you could do is give him time to try to convince you.
"Look, it's the first time a lot of them have played football, and some of them play like it's the first time. It's really about having a good time, " he explains, which admittedly puts some of your worries at ease- and gets a small laugh out of you.
"Also.." he says hesitantly, hitching his breath as he trails off. You roll your eyes and groan. Of course, there's more to it; there always is. You sit back onto the edge of the bed, foot impatiently tapping on the wood floor.
"I may have called Will, and he may have told me to ask you; he promised me that with enough begging.. you'd say yes," he says, almost like a question. There's a small hint of teasing when he says it, and you can practically see the prat smiling through the screen.
Your end of the call goes silent. A flush starting at the tips of your ears and growing at the bulbs of your cheeks.
..
In 2018, the day before the charity match, you met Will in person for the first time. You knew of him through brief passing and mentions of him from Cal and the other Sidemen. Yet you never spoke to him until you were messing around with your camera during practice, getting ready to film the match the next day.
"This is who I was telling you about, Will," Cal smiles, grabbing your attention from the camera. You peer over your shoulder to see a younger lad with dark hair standing beside him. You politely set the camera down on the bench and extend your hand out to him.
"Hi, I'm y/n, I've heard good things about you!" you smile, and he leans down, weakly taking your hand and shaking it.
"Hello," he responds, his once loud chatter with Cal made you assume he'd be much more talkative. But now he is quiet and fidgety, and it makes you wonder if you've already made a bad first impression.
"Y/n is our best camerawomen. I ought to get you familiar with her; maybe you can get some good screen time." Cal smirked. Will shoves him lightly with a chuckle.
"I'm not all bad, I reckon," he insists, and you put your hands up defensively.
"Hey, we'll just have to see on the field, won't we?" you express, grabbing the large equipment and getting ready to move it inside. You stand up, getting a better look at his face. He's tall, his hair short and freshly cut, his jawline is carved out sharply, making it hard to go unnoticed.
"Cheeky," Will commented, crossing his arms over each other. And unknowingly, a grin had worked its way onto your face, your tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek. You shrug,
"I gotta get going, it was nice meeting you Will,"
..
Since then, you and Will have kept in contact frequently. He interacted with you on social media, had you come to feature in his videos, and texted you almost every day. Seeing one another once every few months had become every weekend when you moved closer to London. And you can bet that this didn't go unnoticed by anyone. Sharing clothes, traveling together, posting each other, seeing each other more than your own family— you can only assume why everyone has their presumptions.
Yet, you were great at denying, avoiding, and more importantly ignoring these blistering questions on if they or won’t they.
"So.. you called Will first, before calling me?" you ask slowly, processing it yourself. The pads of your fingers rub against your temple, then smoothing your palm across your cheek hoping it would brush away the pink that dusted your face.
"Yeah," Simon says quickly. "Is it more convincing now? "
"Fuck off,"
"I know it is," he insists. You mutter profanities under your breath before letting it go silent.
Because it is much more convincing knowing that Will had that kind of faith and trust in you. It's more convincing knowing the person closest to you would be right by your side. You weigh out the options in your head. If you do play, you'll get to say you played in front of 30,000 people, raised money for charity, and more importantly, were able to help out some of your closest friends.
"Simon, I don't know.." You mutter hesitantly, biting the nail on your thumb. Sure, you had played footy competitively in high school and tossed a ball around here and there with the lads, but other than that, you hadn't really played in a few years now.
"C'mon, you don't have to be any good, it's for charity y/n! You have to! There will be loads of fans happy that you're playing!" Simon coaxed. You shake your head instantly, knowing that half the boys lived and breathed football.
“You can’t say I don’t have to be any good when you’re probably one of the best players out there.” Countering his argument, you can tell you're at the breaking point. He's cracked you down efficiently, being nice, complimenting you, bringing Will into it- It's working so well you almost hate him for it.
“I’ve exhausted my options, y/n, please, this one time, and I’ll never ask again.” Simon protests. You huff, exasperated, and without letting another beat pass,
"Alright,"
"Alright?" he repeats, the surprise evident in his tone. You gnaw at your bottom lip, adn squeezed your eyes shut before speaking again.
"Yeah, okay, put me in." You decide finally. You can hear movement on the other end and a few other voices shout in delight. Of course, he couldn't be alone when he made the phone call.
"Oh my god, this will be legendary, thank you, thank you, thank you," Simon begins excitedly, which brings a smile to your face. Simon, even though he always was teetering on the edge of your limit, was charming and kind and that's what makes it hard to deny him.
"You're playing center, by the way. See you in a week mate!" and the phone call clicks. There, you're left to stare at your phone screen, watching as you get added to a group chat and texts start to roll in.
One week, seven days, to magically get good at football again. Right, well, it’s much too late to turn back now.
"Cheers," muttering to yourself. You fall back onto the bed, checking your messages to see a new one from Will.
"wanna show this novice the ropes?"
Word obviously spreads fast, is the first thing you think. And then you snort, with a quick eye roll, the pads of your fingers drumming against the screen.
"fuck off" you begin to type but instead you text back,
“pitch at 6 sharp"
And almost immediately Will texts back,
“wouldn’t miss it :)”
⚽️...
You arrive to the pitch first, bringing an old ball covered in dirt from when you had last dribbled with Chris. Will arrives shortly after, a wide smile and an excited pep to his jog.
“Six sharp!” he says, checking his watch to show you it's exactly 6pm. Will is very timely; he’s considerate of people's time and even makes an extra effort to arrive early. He never wants to be the wanker who shows up late and wastes others time and efforts.
"That ball is just filthy, innit?" he comments, his true Geordie accent making a clear appearance. You roll your eyes quickly.
“I don't see yours anywhere,” you respond, finishing up tying the laces of your shoes. You rock on your feet a few times, creasing the shoe and getting it to warp around your feet snugly.
"Fair enough." Immediately, Will picks the ball up and twirls it between his fingers. "What should we do first?"
You both practice dribbling, passing, and shooting. Eventually, moving on to striking and stealing, which gets aggressive, causing you to have bruises all along your legs. Will thinks that after a while, it's a good idea to mess around so you both don't end up hating each other. The time passes by swiftly, the sun setting behind you both before you realize it.
The sky is highlighted with hues of orange, yellow, and a deep red in the horizon. You turn to look at Will; his shoulder grazes your side, and as if on cue, he looks at you, too.
He silently smiles, and for a second it’s all it is, but then his hand comes up and brushes the cool of your cheekbone. He brushes the stray hair that fell, tucking it behind your ear. Smoothing down any hairs that stuck out on the back of your head with his palm.
Will always find an excuse to touch you, to be physically closer. He’s an affectionate person, you’ve always riddled it as. Oh, there’s a stray hair on your face, oh a piece of fuzz on your sweater, don’t worry if you’re nervous— his hand crawls its way onto the small of your back. And every time he did something like this, your feelings soared and free-fall in the air. You don’t know how much longer you can swallow down the shyness you feel when it happens.
Instead, you give him a small shove.
“Stop it,”
“I was just helpin’ ya,” his voice squeaks.
“Just like how you helped get Simon to convince me to play in the match next week?” You shove the ball into his chest, backing up, motioning him to play. He lets out an airy chuckle, rolling the ball onto the field and dribbling it between his feet.
“Heard about that didn’t you?”
He kicks it toward you.
“Mhmm. “
And you kick it, hard, right back.
“I didn’t help him; all I did was suggest that he ask you because you’re reliable.” Will tried to dribble around you, but it rolled just far away enough for you to steal it.
Will runs towards the goal post, attempting to block you or maybe even tackle you, you aren’t sure. From the times you’ve watched Will play, his limbs tend to fly around and it’s like he’s just experienced walking for the first time.
“And not because you know I wouldn’t say no to the prat?”
“Look, to make it up to you I’ll score you a goal at the game,” Will offers, making you raise your eyebrows. He says semiseriously, but you have a feeling it’s more joking than anything. He was always good with banter anyway.
“Yeah right,” You walk back, running up to the ball and kicking it with the side of your foot— flying into the right corner of the net.
Wills eyes widen as he watches you jog over to grab the ball again.
“And you’re the one who needs practice?” he pipes, forgetting about the conversation. You smile shyly and shake your head, grabbing the ball and handing it to Will.
"You think too highly of me, Will." His hands cup yours, causing you to look up at him. The eye contact is soft, yet his eyes squint, and you notice the small clench of his jaw.
"I don't think so. I reckon others think the world of you as well, " Will retorted seriously.
There it is again. What is so small and meaningless to him is the grandest gesture you could ever receive. Whatever way you feel is growing, and you're letting it kill you. You can hear it in the silence, see it with the lights off, and feel it when he steps into a room. It has never been clearer to you than now.
Will notes the silence on your end, reeling back his hands and letting the ball drop to the ground. He scratches the back of his neck before sweeping the ball between his feet and turning around.
"We should focus, shouldn't we? Keep practicing," he mutters absentmindedly. The words are caught in your throat, itching on the tip of your tongue. It takes every atom of your being not to blurt out your every thought. You try to ground yourself by moving your fingers, shaking off the tingling feeling Will left. Your mouth opens to say something, anything, but it snaps shut at the sight of the geordie man looking back at you.
So, instead, you ignore the interaction completely.
"Yeah, let's do that, practice."
And that’s what you did. Every day for a week, you both played until your fingers were numb and noses pink from the chill. The sun would be long gone, the stars visible in the dark, the dim lights that lit the field flickering during the times when they were ready to turn off.
And every night, when Will offered to take you home, you said yes. Will would walk on the side of the sidewalk closest to the road, his shoulder would bump into yours, and you would listen quietly to anything he had to say. He would go on and on and on the entire way home, and you still would ask if he wanted to come inside your flat for a few.
A few minutes would be you showing him your next video, and then you would cook together, and he would sit on your couch and scroll through his phone. The time moved quicker than it did on the field, causing you both to stay up late into the night.
“Where are you going?” You question from the couch, eyeing the way he begins to walk over to the door. He stands up straighter than before, looking at his phone, and then back up at you.
“Home, it’s late,” he reminded.
“Exactly. Stay, don’t act like you haven’t before,” you insist, already going to grab a few blankets and pillows for Will on the couch.
Some nights weren’t always like this. Sometimes, you’d watch something on the telly, and he’d scroll through his phone. Your body would press against his casually, like you two have done for months. Except you're more weary and hesitant, feeling like your every move was a gesture of something more.
For a week it felt like you two were playing house. It was odd, and you knew it. Everyone knew it. When James would call Will there would be quiet snickering, loud teasing. Faith and Sabina would ask for updates after seeing both of your story posts. When Simon called Will to see if he was coming to training day, he asked to speak to you knowing you’d be around.
Yet this didn’t stop the overnights at your flat, it didn’t stop Will from doing his work from your room, it didn’t prevent you from doing loads of laundry together, and it definitely didn’t stop you both from taking the train together to the hotel the day before the match.
⚽️…
The ground below you rumbles from the audience in the stadium. As the time passes you know it’s getting closer and closer to the start of the match. Your leg bounces up and down as you stretch in your own locker room, your hands shake putting on the red uniform, there’s a dryness in your throat that not even all the water in the world could wash away.
“You alright?” Wills asks quietly as his hand slips onto your shoulder. He’d been asking if you were okay ever since you lot left the hotel. And everytime you responded,
“Yeah, yeah,” except your eyebrows were knitted together, your hands picked at the beds of your nails, and you could barely interact with anyone without feeling like passing out.
“Don’t psyche yourself out, darlin. I make a fool of myself every year, all you have to do is show up and you’ve done your part!” he says delicately. You inhale through your nose at the nickname, jaw clenching to focus on breathing. All you do is nod, giving him a small smile.
You aren’t sure what will kill you first, the charity match, or the yearning in your heart. And hopefully, it’ll be the charity match.
Once everyone begins to stand, it’s three o’clock, and just like that the world begins to move incredibly fast. The lads begin two straight lines, moving through the tunnel swiftly. They all seem so confident and excited and you don’t think you even remember how to run. With Will standing infront of you, he’s the only thing that is blocking you and your vision from the roaring crowd outside.
Forgetting his gopro is on, you tap on Wills shoulder
“I’m literally shitting myself right now Will,” he laughs and he takes your hand in to his for a moment with a small squeeze,
“We’ll be all right, swear,” and by the time he turns around, you’re out in the field and the roar of the audience is jarring. You’re convinced your head whips an entire 360 to get a good look at how big the crowd was.
Once you’re down the field, you’re shaking hands with the opposing team. You nod politely and greet your friends, making polite, quick, small talks with JJ, Vik, Josh, Harry, and then Simon. You brief him with a handshake and shove at him lightly,
“God if this goes to shit, i’m blaming it all on you, ya know that?” you joke and he laughs loudly.
“I’ll keep that in mind, y/n”
You greet Chris, Tobi, and Jimmy finally before jogging your way to center to get ready for the kick off. You look back and squint your eyes to see Will as right wing, he can see you and he shows you a thumbs up. And for a moment, it washes away your nerves, until the whistle blows and the game has begun.
..
The first half of the match goes by incredibly fast. Chunkz and Niko make the first goals of the match, allowing for the teams spirits to remain high. You’re able to say that you helped assist Niko with his goal, tackling the ball under four large men. The next goal was made by Vik, and as a good sport, and friend, you made your way over to congratulate him properly.
You stay close to Hp and Chunkz during this time, the only two you feel like trust you enough with the ball. The banter is great but the encouragement they give you is better.
As the sweat beads on your forehead, your chest rises and falls quickly. Everytime you manage to catch your breath, you’re off running again. Your eyes squint looking towards Danny, seeing him get ready for the throw-in. You look around at your team and you eyes are quickly looking for Will, to see he’s already looking at you.
There’s a small smile followed by a little wave. You feel your chest tighten again, this overwhelming feeling is all so sudden and new. The sweaty palms, the overthinking, the flush on your neck. Hopefully it’s all from nerves, and not just from the Geordie man.
The moment ended as quick as the moment came, because Danny Aaron’s then throws the ball into the field. Luckily for you, you were on the edge of the box. The ball comes rolling toward you fast, you’re able to dribble it between your feet, swiftly moving past Callux. You decide to create space between the two of you, but with the other team circling in on you, the only thing to do was shoot.
So, you shoot.
The ball is headed straight towards the net and looks like it could make it past the post, but to your disappointment, the ball bounces off the post and goes right back onto the field.
“Shit,” you mutter out, a hand wracking through your hair ready to run after the ball again. But, Theo is quick to take the ball from under one of the lads on the opposing team, making a quick recovery by striking and making the goal.
A breath you didn’t know you’d been holding finally came out. While you smile and clap for Theo, your energy is low and you are so tired.
“Y/n!” a familiar voice yells from behind you, and you’re quick to turn around. Wills hair is pushed back and sweaty, yet he doesn’t think twice before engulfing you into a bone crushing hug.
“Not making a fool of myself am I?” you ask, pulling away to look at him. Will chuckles and shakes his head immediately,
“That’s a joke, right? You’re ridiculous,” he says sincerely and breathlessly. You thank him briefly before substitutions start to happen, allowing there to be some down time.
Which give you the time to remember what he said to you the first time you had practiced together.
“You still promised me a goal,” You mention, before looking into the gopro on his chest, “Will owes me a goal today, and I better get it,”
“I didn’t promise anything,” he counters quickly. Your head tilts at this, with wide eyes, and he nervously laughs and rubs his neck. Even though he knows you’re joking, he still feels the need to fulfill it.
“You know what, I’ll.. do my best to. I can promise you that, y/n.” And without warning, the lot of you are off again.
…
4 - 3
After the first half of the match, it’s looking promising for your team. Theo scored another goal, and spirits were still high. You were able to switch out and take a needed breather. But after the second half of the match started, that’s when your team started to take a tumble.
You were off the pitch until Pinero got injured, and needed a substitute. So with half a bottle of gatorade and an electrolyte packet in your system, you hopped to your feet and ran back on the field. Once you hear that Simon is getting switched out with Chris, you sigh.
“Fuckin’ hell,” you mutter under your breath, knowing that Chris is a force to be reckoned with. Speed also gets switched off the field, and you’re not sure without him you guys could win. You look around hoping to find a familiar face, but for some reason you can’t find him. Where is the left wing player?
Your thoughts are interrupted by the blow of the whistle, allowing the match to continue. You see the ball fly in the air, and you’re on your feet, going wide incase someone needs to pass. But the ball goes farther and faster than you could run, that’s when you see Will.
Will runs from left back and goes towards the net like he’s a striker. He runs right past Ethan and Harry, getting a close range of the ball. Once Chunkz taps it down, Will slides toward the ball, knocking it into the net.
In the 80’ minute, Will scores what could be the final goal of the match.
“Oh my god,” you say aloud, mouth agape.
In the moment you got tunnel vision. All you could see is Will getting on his feet and spin on his heels looking for something, someone. Everyone starts to run towards Will, to congratulate him, to dogpile on him. But when his eyes land on you, he bolts toward you with all his might.
As he’s running, he’s yelling something, pointing at you. He says it multiple times, too quick for you to make out.
“What!?” You yell breathlessly, leaning forward like you were going to be able to magically tell what he said. But without warning Will comes crashing into you, the impact causing you to stumble backwards, almost losing your footing.
Guess you’ll have to find out what he said later.
When you pull away, you grab onto his shoulders firmly, bouncing with delight.
“Did you see that? I haven’t scored a goal like that ever, i’ve always been in the back—“
“I know! I know!” you cut in between his excitement.
“I’m so glad you were here to see that—“ He’s quickly cut off by the rest of the team congratulating him. Patting him on the shoulder, squeezing him into a brief hug, Chris even comes over and says he’s done well.
You begin to back off to get back into the center field, watching as the smile on Wills face takes over him completely. He radiates warmth, sunshine, and complexities. The ache with quiet yearning, watching him celebrate. There was nothing in the world like it, and if it meant having Will this way rather than not at all- you’ll live with this ache forever.
8 - 7
The match finishes briefly after Will scores. Manny scoring at the 86’ minute tying up the two teams. And Simon, of course, gets the last goal of the match putting his team first. Your team is able to score another point, Theo ends up stepping up to kick the ball and Pie face blocks it from the net. Meaning, the Sidemen have won. Regardless, everyone is in a good mood no matter the turnout. All the players rush towards the field, congratulating each other, briefing the match that just ended.
You thank Hp and Chunkz for a good game, and shake Theos hand for being another good defensive player with you.
Simon makes his way over to you and he puts his hands on the tops of your shoulders, shaking you gently.
“See! It wasn’t so bad was it?” he teased. You roll your eyes and lick the dryness off your lips, admittedly, it wasn’t so bad. After you got over the burning in your chest, the ache in your sides, and the soreness in your thighs.
“Uh no, no, wasn’t too bad. I stayed with Hp and Chunkz a lot of the time, we were all playing really well,” you say before asking how Simon think he did.
“I got a hat trick and three assist, what more could I have asked for?”
“That’s fair,” is all you can respond with. All you can think of is the times you could’ve tried to score, the times you weren’t able to make a good pass, or interfere a pass. Simon reads your mind as he sees the conflict on your face, quick to bring you back to reality.
“I mean you were really great. A few assists, you and Theo on defense was a nightmare, there is no complaints on my end. I hope you consider coming back and playing again, Y/n, seriously.” Simon squeezes your shoulder one last time before he sees Harry, the two rushing towards one another excitedly.
You turn around to see Elz and Munga coming up to you with their mics, a cameraman following. They pull you away from the group of lads whilst everyone gets ready to clap around the stadium. Taking a step back upon seeing the camera, a lopsided smile creeps up on your face.
"Y/n, what an incredible match. You were all over the pitch this game! Can you give us some words about your first time playing in a Sidemen charity match and how it felt?" The mic comes in your face, and you let out an airy chuckle.
"Yeah..um, I haven't played footy since high school, really. When Simon asked for me to play, I was.. reluctant at first, you know, but now I'm really glad I said yes." You rattled on.
"We saw some great strikes on the pitch. How do you feel about barely missing the goal during the first half?" Munya asks.
Licking your lips, you let a beat go by for a moment so you can think. The question poses room for scrutiny from the audience; you can feel your stomach churn, anxiety creeping up on the hairs on the back of the neck. You knew if you seemed too confident, people would not like that, but if you seemed too humble, people would condemn you too.
"Uhm... That's a great question," you begin to say, craning your neck to look for comfort. Your eyes try to find someone in the swarm of people, desperate to get away from the hosts.
"It was my first time! I definitely could've made it if I had been a bit closer or wasn’t getting closed in on,” you finish honestly. There, you see Will is staying back to wait for you. His eyes are wide, and his head is slightly tilted; it's a tender look that was being reserved for you.
"We are thrilled to have you here, and we hope you come back next year,” Elz says and you thank them both quickly before jogging over to Will.
He doesn’t say anything, instead all he does is wrap his arm around your shoulder and guides you to where everyone else is doing their claps around the stadium. You’re curious to see if this moment will make the video, or any of the other ones between the two of you, after all it is up to Mikey.
You find yourself smiling at the crowd, the people, the cameras. In that moment, you truly felt like you belonged and deserved to be there. Saying hello to fans, signing papers, and receiving handmade items. Although, you knew that once this was over, you'd be under mass criticism. You'd go on Twitter and see everyone criticizing how you played, but getting the validation from your mates was all the resignation you needed to tune those other voices out.
“Why the sour face?” Will leans down to whisper to you, amongst the ruckus the lot is making as they leave the pitch.
“Nothing gets past you,” commenting, crossing your arms over on another. He rolls his eyes and groans at this.
“I know you,”
For a second you debate sucking it up, going to the pubs to celebrate with everyone after. Or, going back to the hotel room for the night, and getting ready to leave as soon as possible to see your cats back at home.
“All I want to do is go home, really,” you sigh. Wills face doesn’t change, all he does is hum in response before looking at his phone to see the time.
“Yeah? Why don’t we go back to the hotel and get going,” he suggests simply. You quirk an eyebrow, knowing that prior he was more than willing to go to the pubs with everyone.
“Is.. that what you want?” asking hesitantly. Giving him time to think, and change his mind. But without another beat passing he nods his head.
“Not what about what I want, let’s get home,”
He flashes you a soft, genuine smile that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle. Will smooths your hair done with his palm like always, before silently walking to the locker room to change.
You’re left to stand there, cheeks flushing. Home. Insinuating that home is with you. All of this feels so natural, the soft touches, the quiet intimacy, the longing stares. You wonder how long it’s going to take for you to crack, to risk it all and reveal the raw truth. But, for another day, you can hold on to the pieces of Will that you already have.
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