#stephen tries

Recently, you haven’t been able to sleep. The thrill of the match still shocks you awake, every time there are new photos released or a new video, you are quick to engage. Slowly, videos are released from your other mates, and you eagerly tune in to see what they say.

It’s exciting. The feedback has mainly been positive, yet you still feel the uneasy flip in your stomach every time you see someone has released a video. It's all you can think about. And when you weren't thinking about football, you watched it on telly. You missed playing, the competition, the simple act of being active. It's given you a new surge of motivation, pushing you into creating.

The only downside of it all is that your phone has been buzzing with notifications today, especially. Usually, your phone mutes any notifications from social media, allowing you to not get sucked in all day. Truly, you do your best to ignore it, to ignore the increasing number you see every time you open Twitter, Instagram, or TikTok. But you're only human, and humans are quite curious.

You try not to think anything of it, occupying your time in the studio to film your own video about the charity match. You had B-roll shots, stills, and close-ups of players when you were benched. It was becoming a combination of all the things you adored, your friends, film, and football.

Once you begin to sit down to film a portion of the video, you review the brief script you had written until you feel your right pocket vibrate. Getting up to turn off the camera, you pull out your phone to see who's calling. And to your surprise, it's Chris. You slide open your phone and put it to your ear as you click the camera off.

"Do you need to tell me something?" Chris asks immediately, making your heart drop. You hadn't been hiding anything, spoke to him frequently, and were sure you didn't need to tell him anything.

"What? I don't think so, do I?" You wonder aloud. Chris groans loudly, making your phone speaker crackle in your ears. He doesn’t often text, matter of fact, Chris is a god-awful texter— and an even worse mate to call in a time of need. You could text him and he would go at least a week without responding, usually replying with “Sorry I thought I responded!”

Which makes you wonder, what could be so important that he called you first? Usually, like Simon, it was to help film, otherwise Chris would call to gossip. The boys loved gossiping, or catching up, as they would say.

"I've just seen Will's video," He starts, and you wait for him to continue, but it seems he's doing the same. "Came out a few hours ago.."

You walk in circles in the studio, a hand tapping the side of your thigh out of nerves. You knew Will was uploading his pov of the charity match sometime later in the week, but he didn't tell you exactly when. You'd be lying if you hadn't wondered what would be kept in your shared interactions, what Will said about you, and what Mikey would deliberately choose to keep in. It was a thought that had plagued your mind since Will had taken the GoPro off when you two returned to the hotel.

"Right, and what does that mean?" You huff, choking down the unease in your tone.

"Oh my god, have you seen it? You haven't, have you?" Chris exclaimed, and you could hear the small giggle he tried to stifle. "You two really are clueless, aren't you? It's ridiculous that our other mates are on Hinge actively trying to not be single, and you two do it by choice!" he joked hysterically.

“You’re a dickhead,” you cut in between his laughter, choosing to ignore the blatant comment about yours and Wills' peculiar relationship.

While Chris continues to make himself laugh, the curiosity is now starting to gnaw at you, causing you to stride over to your desk. Without another beat, your monitor is turned on, and you pull out the chair to get comfortable. You attempt to ignore his laughter as you open up YouTube, typing in Will's second channel name.

"Take a gander for me, will you? When you get the chance, of course," Chris says, and you can hear the wide grin on his face. You freeze, like you had just been caught, the mouse hovering over the thumbnail of the video. You look around the room, just to make sure you're alone.

"I suppose," you say slowly, sitting up straighter than before. Chris then goes on to talk about his latest endeavors, awful dates, video ideas, and the next time you two will see each other. Under other circumstances, you'd be happy to chat. But right now, all you wanna do is watch Wills latest video.

"Hey Chris, I gotta get back to filming this video, mate," you fib, leaning back into your chair, "I want it up by next week, and I'm the only one editing it."

"Oh yeah, yeah, I'm just chatting. Let me know when you watch that video, text me," he responds politely.

"If you even get back to me-" and the phone call ends before you can even say goodbye. You furrow your eyebrows at your phone before setting it down on the desk. You mumble the title to yourself,

SIDEMEN CHARITY MATCH (First Person POV) a bit more willne • 271k views • 3 hours ago

It can’t be that bad, is what you’re trying to convince yourself. You've existed on the internet for a long time now, and there isn't anything you can't handle. Clicking on the video, your heart starts hammering in your chest. You let a few minutes roll by, holding your breath, and then you see the moment when you tapped on Will's shoulder.

"I’m literally shitting myself right now, Will," you let out, and Will watches it back with a soft smile and a tender chuckle.

“Awh poor y/n/n, she was really nervous the entire time, I felt so awful once we split up,” he says over the video.

There it is. The common burn on your face, the shiver down your spine, and the drumming of your heart against your chest. You hit the space bar, pausing the video, to cover your face in embarrassment.

Is it silly to be so riled up by a singular sentence? Are you crazy for wanting to analyze every little thing in the video? You seem to take note of everything. You notice the upturn on the corner of his lips, the way he plays with the ring on his pinky that you got for him-- a nervous tick he picked up, the shifting of his eyes down to his lap when he gets bashful. It's driving you crazy.

So, instead, you watch in complete silence for the rest of the video. It keeps you from pausing frames, reading comments, and feeling lightheaded. But you notice how the GoPro often faces where you're standing on the field, how Mikey left in the bits and pieces of you two interacting that could've easily been cut out. The small waves, subtle smiles, the hug you two shared after you had missed the goal. Half the time Will wouldn't say anything, he would just grin, reliving the moment, occasionally making small comments.

"She really is something, isn't she? Many good assists for her first match,"

and

"Look at that darlin' smile,"

Yet you didn't pause, you remained still in your seat, keeping your eyes glued to the screen as if blinking would take it away. Even though you could feel the air leave your lungs when you appeared on screen.

But then you reach the point where Will makes his goal.

You nervously bite your fingers as he celebrates, telling the audience the same thing he told you on the field, how he had never been a striker and always stayed in the back. The GoPro shot is now playing as Wills words fade into the background. The next few moments play, and it's where Will was screaming something intangible to you.

You aggressively turn up the volume all the way, turning on closed captions to be sure. Your mouse hovers over the timestamp, “most replayed,” and that's when you hear it.

"For you! I did it for you!"

It plays once, then you replay it, and then replay it again. You feel crazy. Taking in his every word, every move, was this okay? A moment that felt so raw and personal was now published for thousands to observe.

“For you! For you!” that’s what Will continues to shout at you on the pitch. And Will doesn’t say much about it, because just before was the clip of you saying he owes you a goal. But when you watch the video you feel like you’re back on the field. Chest heaving up and down, you can barely breathe, and there’s Will running at you shouting something you couldn’t make out. His skin sticking to yours as he embraces you, his hands gripping the side of your body with the proudest smile. A smile, that now says, that was for you.

Just like before, you pause the video, hands gliding through your hair. You don't finish the video. Instead, you step away from the computer and fall back onto the couch that you originally were going to film on.

Okay. It was pretty bad. You understand why your mentions have been blowing up all day and why Chris gave you a call. But it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen this before. Earlier on, you’d often get paired with any boy you came into contact with. It never got out of hand, and most of the time, you were able to ignore it, and the others would too.

But this time it was a little different. The next few days roll by and you aren't able to dodge it. The tweets, the teasing from friends, the edits, god the edits. When filming with friends you were always ready for a joke about Will to make an appearance.

And once you upload your video on the charity match, the comments are bombarded with curiosity and flood in quickly.

StarvxsmWillLoverforever Starting to see why will and y/n can't beat the dating allegations.. 349 likes 17 replies

marriottxmorgan Literally!!!

Admittedly, you feel a little crazy for reading the comments to see if others are picking up on what’s happening. You don’t need to rely on the audiences validation on what’s going— but it does make you feel a little more sane.

Despite it all, Will doesn't bring it up to you, nor does he make any insinuation that he knows about it when he comes by your flat one afternoon.

“Are you coming tomorrow night?” Will asks over your shoulder, his breath fanning the tips of your ears. You turn your head away from the show you're watching and lean back to create space. A chill is sent down your spine as the hairs on your arm stand. He leans over the couch, the sun casting shadows to create definition in the muscles on his arms. Your cat, calamari, follows him, weaving between his arms and purring. A fortuitous combination that focused all the things you loved in one home.

“To what? Watch you prats drink and make a fool of yourselves?” you bantered, turning your body fully to face him. "I have somewhere to be the next morning,"

Arthur mentioned how the lads were hitting the pubs over the weekend, but it seemed he failed to mention that you were meant to accompany them. Will shrugs, arms crossing over one another to lean closer to you.

“Chris said you would,” he insisted, and you could see the smile he was trying to hide. You roll your eyes and lean back onto the couch as Will picks up the feline, cradling her in his arms.

“Why does everyone keep saying I’ll do things before talking to me?” you wondered aloud.

“Because you always end up doing them darlin,” Will teases, kissing your pet before settling down in the open space next to you with Calamari in his lap. "I think Arthur owes Chris twenty quid if you go,"

The silence stretches, reminding you that you're playing house again with Will. There’s leftover takeout on the table, his coat lazily hanging off a chair, and the worn out ball you both had been passing around. The breeze that comes from the open window cools the burn on your face and clears the air of any tension. Your eyes sweep the room, before landing back on Will whose attention is on Calamari.

You awe silently, Will has a habit of adoring every pet he comes into contact with. And often, they end up loving him just as much. Without hesitation, you grab your phone, snapping a picture to save for later.

“I guess I don’t have anything else going on,” you say simply, tucking your phone back under your thigh.

“You don’t disappoint,”

Will stays for several more hours after that, watching telly with you, playing with mari, he watches as you write formal emails, and listens to your phone calls with your manager.

Between all this, you posted the photo of Will and Mari. No caption, no music, no tags, just the photo. You hadn’t thought much of it, a simple photo that was cute. Yet, Wills face wasn’t in it, just the wave of of his hair and the ring on his pinky finger— you weren’t trying to hide him. Either way, it didn’t stop your audience from finding out who it was.

So the hours before you were finally going to get some sleep, were left with you refreshing your phone.

“Fucks sake,” you mumble under your breath, before turning off your phone frustratedly for the night and going to bed.

The music is loud, but the chatter is more audible. You hesitate, not wanting to leave the solace of the cool air. Bars made you anxious, so did large crowds of people, and the only anecdote to that right now—was to drink.

You push open the door, immediately being met with loud cheers as older couples watch the game on the multiple TVs that are displayed. You take a second look at the location you were sent, and you seemed to be in the right place.

Slipping around groups, and bumping into couples, you eventually end up slamming into a familiar face.

“Y/N! Thought you weren’t coming for a second there, mate!” Chris steadies you, yelling over Queen playing on the big speakers. Fixing the pieces of hair that got caught in your lipgloss, you give a shy smile.

“I got wrapped up in editing,”

“We’ve got to get you an editor,” Chip chimes in, appearing with the rest of the lot. You roll your eyes in response, eyeing him.

"Yeah, yeah,” you say dismissively, crossing your amrs over one another. “Where’s Sabina?”

"She was knackered and didn't know if you were coming or not! I'll text her, tell her you are thinking of her," he responds politely, pulling out his phone to text his girlfriend. Gaze sweeping the group, you count six men, minus Will, and that’s when reality to hits you—

"This is awful! I'm stuck babysitting you blokes all night, again," you express, the palms of your hands pressing against your eyes.

"Oh we're not all bad," a voice comes from behind you, warmth radiating on your back. And without even turning around, you know it's Will. One of his hands leans against the bar, outstretching infront of you, while the other holds a half empty glass. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder, and Will is looking down at you, head slightly tilted with a small grin.

It's suffocating, his eyes on you, yours on his, and everybody elses on the both of you. It feels more intimate than when Will has fallen asleep in your bed after a quiet evening. This is a public display, both of you slotting together like pieces in a puzzle, your back pressing into his chest accidentally.

"And when you end up singing down the street and getting carried by George later, tell me that," He laughs lightly, breath fanning your face with tequila and mint. He still has the same smile that looked at you, and only you, with adoration.

"Another pint, anyone?” Stephen asks.

“Oi! Shots in celebration!” Cal insists instead.

“We could just do both, really,” you offer, and the rest seem to rally at the suggestion.

"Brilliant idea,"

The lot of you kill more time with conversations about formula 1, filming, football, and more importantly, shots. You could feel the music in your feet, sending shock waves to your racing heart. The pub continued to get more crowded as time went on, allowing you to sneak away to use the bathroom for a moment of silence and peace. The liquor you drank burned your throat and sat heavy in your stomach, while it eased your anxiety and loosened your joints, it was making you impulsive.

There’s surprisingly no line, and your out in no time, fixing your smudged mascara in the foggy mirror. You reach for your purse, only to realize you don't have it, and you also don't have your phone. Quickly, or as quickly as you can handle, you move out of the bathroom and into the crowded hall.

You must've left it at the booth, or maybe outside when you needed fresh air, or maybe by the pool table? You strain your neck, going on your tip toes to sweep the room. Once, twice, and then your eyes fall on Will. He's on his phone, and theres a black bag that hangs on his shoulder.

You feel a sense of relief wash over, but also your heart skip a beat.

“William, I think you have something of mine,” You say loudly, drawing his attention away from his phone, down to you.

“What? This? I have one of these myself,” he says jokingly, sliding the purse off his arm and onto the counter next to you both. He then digs in his pant pocket, fishing out your phone and sliding it next to your purse. Under the awful lights, his hair is shinning and freshly washed, the hair near his ears is short meaning that it was newly cut.

“You look better without those hats,” you observe aloud. Your hand reaches and brushes through his hair, ruffling it, “Have you ever considered a mullet? You’d suit one,”

Will tilts his head, like a puppy, his eyes big and bright— “Noted,” and only now, you notice how the rest of the lads had scattered, and Will was by himself. You look over your shoulder, then reaching on your tiptoes to search for the boys.

“Were you waiting for me?” You observe, even though you meant to only think that. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

Will shrugs, trying to hide the small smile that dared to creep on his face.

“Kinda,”

"You can't kinda wait for someone,"

"I was going to wait for you anyway, but then you left your bag near the pool table, gave me a good excuse." Will's gaze swept the room— their friends nearing on the edge of being plastered, singing and talking to strangers. He was searching for something, not someone, but something else.

Grabbing your attention, the bartender slings two pints your way, "For the couple," he winks, making your face burn. You both don’t say anything at first, the atmosphere shifting to try to mold to both of your comforts.

The air had changed, suddenly gotten so dry and tight that it made Will's body stiffen. Ignoring the comment, Will grabs the glass and inspects it before taking a small sip.

“Are you.. seeing what people are saying?” Will asks as you grab the glass left unattended. "About us,"

His voice was low, eyes fixed somewhere just passed your shoulder, like looking at you directly might unravel something you both aren't ready for.

You shift uncomfortably, of course you did. How could you not? Every day since Will posted the video, when Ieuans' photos were released of both of you, last night's post— you’d been getting tagged in edits, clips, everything. The question was big, pointed, and unexpected.

“Yeah, I’ve seen a few things,” you lie, hiding your unease by squeezing the class tighter.

The look on Wills face, you’ve seen it before. When editing software crashes, or when an unplanned event happens during a video, this time it’s a little different. There’s tension in his brows, his jaw isn’t clenched, instead theres doubt, uncertainty, that strains him.

“It’s okay, Will, I swear it doesn’t bother me.” you reassure, “Unless it.. it uh, bothers you, of course—“

“No! No, that isn’t, no, it doesn’t bother me at all,” he sputters earnestly. Will's eyes meet yours—guarded but still steady—before clamping his mouth shut. Holding back on the words dancing on his tongue.

"Okay," You slowly nod, as if you’re still processing it as you’re responding. You should leave it at that, finish your drink and head back towards the group— “Then why did you bring it up?”

What did they put in the liquor tonight?

In all the time you've known Will, he's not a good liar. He’s also not good at hiding what he’s feeling on his face. His tongue presses against the inside of his bottom lip, face twisting to avoid an awkward grin.

“I thought it would make you uncomfortable,” he mutters, his eyes darting down to look at the foam in his glass. You shift, hesitantly moving closer to Will to capture his attention.

“What? No, it’s never made me uncomfortable before. Should it?” You ask, hand grazing his forearm. Which makes Will look at you before he shrugs, quiet and shy, similar to when you first met him.

"I've seen what it's done to other people, it could have a horrible ending,"

“Doesn’t have to,”

“But it could,”

“That stuff doesn't change anything, we're still..." You begin defensively, before the weight of your words slowly starts to settle. "..where we are,”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, the adrenaline bleeding out of your system. You don’t pick up on the shock on Wills face at first, but after a beat of silence you realize the depth of what you just said. Slowly, you swallow the sip from your drink, giving you enough time to possibly save yourself.

But you don’t say anything.

You both stare at each other incredulously.

“Well, where are we, y/n?" Will probes. He can see it now, the look on your face, the shock, the stature of your posture, the mistake it was saying that outloud. You know he’s asking because he already has an answer in his head, but he wants you to reaffirm it. You know Will, and Will knows you, it’s inescapable.

Again, the silence stretches, but not comfortably like it was the night before in your living room. This time it’s heavy, thick with anticipation.

Even with the loud chatter in the pub, it makes your ears ring. You’re convinced you two are the only ones not talking. The look on his face says he’s waiting for you to say something else, but you don’t. You swallow and lick the dry cast on your lips, being the first to break eye contact. Breaking the string tying you two together at this moment.

“Y/n, be honest with me—”

“Hello! What are we standing around for? We’re doing karaoke in the back, George has already had one too many as you can tell,” Chris comes over, his hands clasp Wills shoulders from behind. Chris looks at you first, and then glances to Will, noting the two of you saying nothing. Chris quirks an eyebrow, mouthing something along the lines of “Bad time?”

“Stop sitting around and flirting, will ya? At least when George flirts with him, he shares,” Stephen says teasingly, comes up to join you lot. He doesn’t note the tension between the two of you, or he totally does and just doesn't care. Both of which are completely plausible answers.

“Right, I’ll come on over,” You affirm quickly, seeing this as your only out of the hole you dug yourself into. You give one last glance to Will, and his face is twisted. His eyebrows furrow together, and his lips are slightly parted, it’s a look that reads we’re not done.

But you give him a pleading look that says not right now. 

…⚽️

Will doesn’t say much for the next two hours. He lingers in the back of the group, occasionally sipping on his drink or checking the time on his phone. And you try your best not to stare, knowing that if you look his way— he’ll already be looking at you. He does eventually join the others for karaoke, obnoxiously singing and joining in on music that is playing while you all walk to the next place.

It’s left a pit in your stomach. Knowing that the next time you and Will are alone, you’ll have to be the rawest form of yourself. The part that you’ve been desperate trying to repress and lock away. You’ve never spoken much about how you really feel, afraid that if you start, you’ll never stop. Your feelings for Will are like an oil spill, a match could be dropped and everything would be caught on fire.

You can feel it, the anxiety, it started at your toes and it’s slowly crept it’s way up your torso. The walls are closing in and time is escaping. All because Will doesn’t speak to you, his fingers tapping the table rhythmically, his leg bouncing up and down causing friction to the table. You needed to talk now, even if it was going to ruin you.

Strategically, you get up from the table with a rather forced smile.

“I think it’s time for me to go home fellas,” you announce just after you all had arrived at a new pub. You had been to three pubs already, downed 4 shots, a tequila soda, a couple pints, and a dirty martini. Your shoes were sticking to the wood floors, phone on the verge of dying, and you were tired of having to hover while using the public restrooms.

“Oh not yet, y/n! The night is still young,” George teasingly pleads, and when he leans over to pull you in for a hug you can smell the liquor on his breath. Your nose wrinkles as you pat his back, giving him a small shove after. Unlike Will, it wasn’t as endearing .

“You are so hammered,” you comment, the interaction making the group laugh.

“You aren’t hammered enough,” Cal counters, leaning over to offer you his drink, to which you decline. His eyes are glossed over, and he has this lopsided grin that reads trouble.

“Take care of him won’t you?” You say, pointing at Stephen who shakes his head in response. Regardless, he grabs Cal, and shakes him.

“You stupid, fuckin idiot,” Stephen mutters to Cal, taking the glass between his hands and smelling it. His nose twitches, yet he still takes a small swig, coughing after the fact.

“Drinkin vodka that tastes and looks like medicine, you’re an odd man,”

“Seriously, I’ve got to get going,” Getting up, you shrug your coat on as you briefly say goodbye to everyone.

“We’ll take care of your husband, don’t worry,” Stephen jokes, forcing Cal to sit down in the process.

“You should really work on taking care of yours,” Chris bites back. You roll your eyes, trying to shrug off the overdone comment.

“No one vomit,”

“Will do miss,”

“Can’t promise anything,”

Telling Arthur to tell Chip you said goodbye, smacking Chris on the head for saying you’d come tonight, and finally, you wave to Will.

He nods at you, lifting his drink as acknowledgment. You pause, giving time for more to happen. You expect Will to join you, you hope he does, because you linger for a moment too long that everyone else notices— but he doesn’t. His body still, leaned back into the chair he sat in. Wills eyes flicker back towards the lads, and he doesn’t take a second glance. He’s letting you walk away.

So you walk away.

And once you’re out of the bar, you convince yourself you’ll hear his footsteps from behind. Ones that are hurried and rushed, maybe he was just taking his time to say his goodbyes. Will never let you leave without him, he always accompanied you, eventually going back to each others flat and falling asleep there. But you glance over your shoulder, once, twice, and before you know it, you’re on the train home. It leaves a hollow feeling in your heart, a cold chill that courses through your bones.

You don't remember the last time you left an event, a hangout, or even a video when Will didn't leave with you. You purposefully left thinking he would follow, but he didn’t, so maybe it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe you’re reading too much into it, he had a lot to drink and hasn’t been able to get out very much— he was just having a good time!

Looking at your phone, with 5% left, you go to your messages. Waiting for his text seemed desperate, but he always sent you one after a night out, it was normal. Whatever normal means to you both.

With a loud groan, and a frustrated tug on your hair, your phone shuts off and you let it fall onto your lap. No phone, no company, and no alcohol. What a shit way to end the night.

Now you’re left to wonder on the ride home if that was casual, or if you’re an idiot.

Recently, Will hasn't been able to sleep. Ever since he watched you walk out of the pub a few nights ago, he's felt this lingering regret. He hasn’t seen, texted, or called you since that night. And normally, he sends you a text to make sure you got home safe, but he didn’t even do that. Instead he anxiously turned off his phone the rest of the night and has been avoiding the feeling since.

At first, Will thought it best to keep it to himself, until one morning Will gave James a call in the early afternoon.

“Y/n says rubbish all the time, it could mean nothing,” James comments. 

“No! You knobhead! She had this, this look and she said it like she regretted it,”

“Or it could mean everything, and you’ve completely screwed up–” James continues to mumble to himself.

“Why don’t you just make me feel worse about the situation, yeah?” Will huffs.

“This is why I didn’t want to give you my honest opinion because I’m not involved in the situation. How am I supposed to know what look she had?” James points out.

“You’ve known her just as long as I have,” Will says quietly, picking up the dishes left on his bedside table and bringing them out into the kitchen.

“What, you want me to write a song about it?”

“James!” Will whines. 

“Okay, okay, what else happened?” Will sucks in air through his teeth, trying to recall the rest of the night.

“She left after a couple hours, that’s it,”

“What’s the matter with you?! You let her leave?” James yells over the phone, causing Wills eardrums to pop in response.

“What was I supposed to do? Follow her on the chance that she tells me that it was nothing?” Will argues, setting the dishes into the sink. There’s a silence over the phone before another loud yell,“YES!”

A beat of silence goes by, and then a wave of realization washes over. Will loudly groans, his palm banged against the counter sharply then slaps his forehead.

“..I’m a proper idiot, aren’t I?” Will asks, but mainly to himself. Finding himself leaning against his kitchen counter, pressing his phone to his ear with just his shoulder. He lets out another heavy sigh, using the pads of his fingers to rub circles on his temple and forehead.

“Mate, what do I do?” Will asks defeatedly. James shifts over the phone, drawing his attention back to the phone call. He can hear James footsteps stop, settling down to think about the question.

“Realistically, you talk to y/n. You’ve known her since you were twenty-two, If you don’t talk to her now you’ll be dancing around your feelings until you’re sixty, and by then she’ll have grandkids. You and I both know that this isn’t going away anytime soon,” 

“Why are we being nasty?” Will says, a small exhausted smile making its way onto the corners of his mouth.

"I'm not! But I think it's ridiculous that you have any reason to believe that your feelings aren't reciprocated," James explains calmly. His tone was sure, confident, Will doesn’t think he’s ever heard James be so serious before.

"Have you been watching those edits of her and i recently?" Will tries to steer the conversation where it doesn’t put him in a vulnerable spot. Lightening the mood with a small quip, “They’re quite good, I can see how it would get in someone’s head,”

"Maybe. But regardless, I can still see how obvious it is that you two want to be together. Do us all a favor, Will. Make it happen. I don’t know what you're waiting for, really.” James confesses. As much as it was a weight off Wills shoulders, it was a weight off his as well.

So that's what Will does. After the phone call, he writes and deletes, and rewrites the text he's attempting to send you. Before he knows it, the sun is setting and he’s wasted the day away. So, instead, he gives up and heads towards your flat and arrives at seven sharp. No phone call, no text, just him.

With a small knock at your door, and his nerves making his hands twitch, he waits.

Will hears a few meows from inside, and then footsteps, before you slowly open the door.

“Will, hey,” you say softly, your eyes big with surprise. Will cradles a ball between his arms and a black jumper, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Sorry for showing up unannounced, I just..” Will trails off for a moment, suddenly forgetting how to breathe. You observe his nervous nature, and stay still, patient.

“Do you wanna go for a walk, maybe?” he asks carefully, trying to give you space if that’s what you need. You lean against the door frame shrugging,

“It’s cold out,”

“I brought an extra jumper,” he says immediately, and your stature seems to soften. He holds it out for you, an expensive black knitted jumper he always wore in videos. From where you stood, you could smell his cologne, it makes you feel giddy. Even though you were still angry at how he disappeared the last few days.

“Alright, let’s go for a walk then,” you decide finally, knowing that Will wasn’t here for just a walk. He knows you know that, but the look on your face makes him feel a little more hopeful than before.

TAGLIST: @dandelionpixels @ooostarwarsfandom501st @melancholicandmessy @migilini @lyssaluvs @alysbaby @kneelforloki @formulaal @f10pc @i-need-to-be-put-down @blu-cuffie @ellouisa17 @marijas-stuff @pianor481 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @whistlef0rthechoir @edgyficuselastica

Listen, you loved your kids. Really, you did. They were your entire world and more, both of you certain that you couldn’t ever love anything more than them. But sometimes, you wished they would just fuck off. You would never say it out loud, of course, but you knew that Stephen shared your sentiment (at least on occasion), if the shared looks of frustration and exasperation as he was forced to pull away from you yet again was anything to go by. 

Every single time you and Stephen would start doing anything even remotely sexy - whether that be using one of your precious moments alone to exchange a few heated kisses, or his hands finding their way into your pants under the cover of the duvet in the morning, or genuinely even one of you sitting down in the bathroom to sort yourselves out before the tension drove you mad - a little voice would pipe up from a few rooms away, or a thunder of footsteps would come clattering down the hall towards you and your husband. 

He was actually very good about it, contrary to what people may believe. He never got angry at the kids, always hauling himself up from the bed or wherever you two were to follow the sound of their voice, or quickly moving to cover you two up if the children were imminently approaching something indecent. Whatever the situation was, Stephen seemed to have no problem snapping back into dad-mode the second your two dearly beloved interruptions made themselves known. 

It had actually started to become a game between the two of you, how far you could get before you got interrupted. 

So far, Stephen was winning, having made it three fingers deep in your cunt and bringing you right to the edge before your alarm clocks went off, blaring loud and jarring in the dark of the early morning and cutting off what would have been your first proper orgasm in probably over a month. You’d just smiled, resigned, and shuffled away from him to get up to rouse your children awake for school, and left it at that. 

You’d gotten close a few times, running out of time just as you were lining his cock up to your entrance before having to stop, leaving both of you restless and snappy for the remainder of the day as you desperately clenched around what should have been. But that was it from you, your deftness not quite on par with Stephen’s quick fingers and smart mouth. 

There were of course also the odd quickies you managed to squeeze in - you on your knees in the shower, frantically sucking him off before you had to go and do the school run, or a quick fuck as you put in a load of washing while the kids were occupied with a movie. Short and sweet, but not nearly enough. Just enough to scratch the itch and prevent you from actually going stir crazy, but never enough to leave you actually satisfied. You always found yourself wanting more the second he pulled out of you or stepped away, and you knew he felt the same - his gaze burning a hole in you as he tucked himself away or helped you fix your clothes, both of you longing to pull the other back and give in to the desire building inside you. 

You made it work. Slowly but surely, you got through it. You and Stephen had been together long enough to navigate through dry spells such as this one - after you’d had the kids, your sex drive had all but disappeared for a good few months while you were nursing, and you’d been so worried that Stephen would grow tired of you. But he hadn’t. He’d stayed by your side every step of the way, pretending to be much less ecstatic than he was when you told him you were finally ready to go again. Thankfully, that turning point just so happened to coincide with the kids learning how to sleep through the night, and so you were awarded with at least five hours of uninterrupted time with each other, something that Stephen used to thoroughly remind you how much he had missed you. 

You sighed at the memory, blinking back into the present where you were currently sat at the kitchen table, hands wrapped loosely around a mug of tea as you stared at nothing. The clock on the wall showed 3pm, meaning the kids would be back soon, and your nice quiet day of chores and actually indulging in your hobbies for once was coming to an end. Stephen was in charge of pickup today, so you had at least another twenty minutes to yourself before all hell broke loose. 

You used the time to clear up slightly, anticipating the chaos of art projects, dirty PE kit and homework books, all the while trying to ignore the insistent throb between your legs that had become your daily companion over the last few weeks. 

Something that didn’t help the situation in the slightest was a fact that initially, you had loved about your husband, but in recent weeks was becoming the bane of your entire existence - Stephen was an absolutely horrific flirt. 

You supposed it came with the territory - he was a YouTuber, an entertainer, he was bound to crack jokes on reflex. That didn’t bother you most of the time, but it certainly did when the jokes were downright obscene. Always dropped in the heat of the moment, when you two were having a perfectly normal discussion about breakfast or clothing or whatever domestic you’d gotten into that day, and always accompanied by the drop of his voice by approximately an octave into a register that had you shivering without him ever even touching you. 

Shaking your head to dispel the memories and thoughts of his hands roaming your body or his voice in your ear, you quickly moved to the living room to sit on the couch, and not a moment too soon. 

The door burst open with a flurry of voices both child and adult as Stephen herded your children into the house before kicking the door shut behind them. You stood up to greet them, pulling them into a hug and pointedly avoiding your husband’s gaze as your children talked to you about their day. You listened diligently, not noticing the way Stephen kept pulling out his phone to type out a message or check the time. Probably just scheduling another shoot, you thought as you watched him send his third text in under two minutes. 

Eventually, the children scurried off to their rooms to change and get on with homework, and you two were left alone once again. You swallowed thickly as you finally looked up at him, steeling yourself against the heat you found there - not unexpected, but disarming all the same. 

‘Hi. Good day?’ You asked. Stephen nodded curtly, fidgeting with his phone. His hands were trembling slightly, no doubt with the effort of restraining himself from reaching out and bending you over the nearest flat surface and fucking you until you forgot your own name. 

‘Yeah, just- just did a shoot with Chris and Will and, um- yeah.’ He said. You nodded, heart thumping as you looked anywhere other than where he was now twirling the string of his hoodie between his pointer and middle finger, the veins standing out on his hands doing nothing for the heat curling in your stomach. 

‘Good, sounds- sounds good. Uh- dinner?’ You stumbled slightly as your gaze caught on the way his fingers twisted the fabric between them, for a fleeting moment wishing they were buried inside you instead and twisting like that to hit your sweet spot in the way he knew you liked - just on the side of harsh, with broad, long strokes instead of quick little ones. Stephen had learned your body until he knew it like the back of his hand, and knew exactly how to get what reaction out of you depending on the day and the mood. When you were in a rush, he knew it was fast and hard that got you there, knew there was a particular spot on your clit that had you coming in under two minutes if he really knuckled down. 

‘Uh- I don’t mind. Whatever we’ve got already is fine by me.’ He said, grateful when his phone chimed again and he had an excuse to look away from you. Any longer and he probably would’ve done something stupid that most likely would’ve resulted in the kids getting a younger brother or sister. He pulled out his phone, tapping out a quick reply before shoving it back into his pocket and facing you again. Distantly, he could hear the sounds of the kids shuffling around in their bedrooms, doors propped half-shut in a compromise you’d fought long and hard for. He cleared his throat once, twice, all too aware of the thick tension between you two. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and his eyes tracked to the movement, something in his chest giving out at the sight of the flash of pink. 

In a moment of desperation (or stupidity, both were equally likely), he crossed the kitchen and closed the gap between you, hands coming up to cup your cheeks as your lips met in a searing kiss. You made a soft noise of surprise before melting into it, hands fisting in the fabric of his hoodie. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip, and you opened easily, groaning at the familiar taste and heat of him. It wasn’t perfect - a little messy, more teeth and tongue than you were used to at this stage, but the sheer want and hunger you felt as Stephen practically devoured you made your knees weak. He was everywhere - his hands in your hair, at your waist tugging you closer to him, tongue exploring your mouth and tangling with yours with an earnestness that left you breathless. 

He nudged you forward slightly, backing you up until your back pressed against the edge of the kitchen counter, never stopping kissing you even once. He’d pull back for breath, then dive back down and kiss you harder like he couldn’t bear to go a second without feeling you. The counter dug into your back, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you kissed your husband, unabashedly feeling him up through the fabric of his hoodie, nails dragging down his stomach and causing him to groan into the kiss. Molten heat spread through your body, collecting in your panties where your clit had begun to throb more insistently now. 

There wasn’t an inch of space between you, your mingled breaths fanning over your mouths as you kissed each other, parting only to take a few shallow breaths before pressing your lips back together. Your blood rushed in your ears, deafening over the slick sounds of your lips on each other. Stephen shifted his weight slightly, kicking your legs apart and wedging his thigh in between yours, never once faltering as he held you steady against him. You whimpered into the kiss, the pressure of his thigh already too much against your aching core as you instinctively ground down against it. The noise only seemed to spur him on, and he flexed his thigh experimentally, laughing into your mouth when you keened softly. 

Just as you were finally allowing yourself to get lost in it, Stephen pulled back, the sudden loss sending you reeling as your head tilted upwards to instinctively chase his mouth. He rested his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, gaze locked on your spit-slick lips. Almost like he couldn’t help himself, his thumb traced your lower lip, pulling it back slightly before snapping it back into place. He inhaled sharply, eyes closing for a second as he tried to regain his composure. 

‘Kids-’ He started, and your cunt fluttered at just how utterly wrecked he sounded after one kiss - his voice gravelly and thick with arousal and restraint. ‘Kids’ve gotta pack. They’re leaving soon.’ He said. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

‘What? What do you mean?’ You asked. Stephen stilled for a second, stepping back so he was eye level with you. 

‘They’re staying with my parents for the weekend. Remember?’ He prompted, when your frown only deepened. Stephen exhaled softly, the sound edged with the frustration he hadn’t quite been able to shake out of his tone for the last few weeks. 

‘Yeah, love. My mum said that we needed a break after the last time she was here. So she and Dad offered to take them for the weekend. Said it’d be good for us to…..reconnect.’ He whispered that last part, voice dropping as he closed the gap in between you again, one hand coming up to grab your chin softly and tilt it up so you were looking at him. You swallowed, and Stephen’s eyes tracked the way your throat bobbed, mouth curling into a smirk as he caught the glimmer of want in your eye. 

‘So, we’ll be-’ You started, not even daring to speak it into existence for fear that something would suddenly rip it away from you. Stephen had no such concerns, smirk widening. 

‘Yep. We’ll be all alone. No kids, and I’ve told Chris to fuck off until Monday, so no friends to disturb us either. Just me and you, love. All weekend.’ He said, thumb rubbing gently over your jawline.

You really should’ve felt guilty at the intensity of the relief you felt at those words. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, not when your husband was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive and was deciding where he wanted to start. The heat in his soft brown eyes was palpable as he stepped away from you, full of promise for the days to come. You shivered slightly, finally allowing yourself to smile as you watched his figure recede down the hallway, taking an extra second to admire his broad shoulders in the dim light of your house. 

The next hour was a blur to you. Thankfully, Stephen seemed more than ready to take on the responsibility of getting the children ready, and you could almost laugh at his brisk tone that left no room for nonsense if you weren’t so desperate to get your hands on him as he was you. 

You made polite small talk with his parents when they arrived, standing dutifully in the doorway whilst your husband chased up missing stuffed animals or forgotten items of clothing, your children chattering away to their grandparents. Stephen appeared at your shoulder, a warm smile plastered on his face, convincing to all but you who saw the slightest hint of frustration twitching at the corner of his eye the longer his parents stood in the door. He was getting impatient. 

Sensing this, you pushed off the doorframe, bending down to press a kiss to each of your children’s cheeks and hoping the adults got the message. Stephen thanked them over and over again, the picture of a courteous son and father, giving his mother a quick kiss on the cheek before joining you at the threshold once more. You waved until your arms hurt as they got into the car, your kids immediately sticking their heads out of the window to shout goodbye. You watched until the car was nothing more than a pinprick in the distance, and you were out of the danger zone of them needing to turn back for anything. 

Sighing, you stepped back into the house, letting Stephen shut the door behind you. 

He didn’t even give you a moment before he was on you. 

He backed you into the wall, one hand cupping the back of your head to stop it from knocking into the wall, the unconscious gesture giving you butterflies as his mouth found you for the second time. Gone was the element of restraint he’d tried to hard to keep earlier - this time, he didn’t hold back. His teeth dug into your bottom lip, drawing a sharp gasp out of you as you kissed back as best you could under the onslaught of his mouth. The hands at your waist snaked down to grab firm handfuls of your ass, gripping tightly and making you gasp into the kiss as Stephen groped you shamelessly. He lifted your thigh, guiding you to wrap your leg around his waist. You did as he asked, letting out a broken moan when he used the newfound angle to press his pelvis into yours, grinding the now-prominent bulge of him against your core. 

He used the interruption to break the kiss, tilting his head to press a line of hot kisses down your jaw, sucking and licking and biting at any skin he could get access too. His stubble scraped deliciously across your skin as he mouthed at the hollow of your throat, deftly nudging your head up with his nose to trail his mouth along the opposite side. 

You were practically putty in his hands, held up only by the pressure of his body against yours. Hot pleasure licked up your spine, settling in your stomach as Stephen kissed along the sharp line of your collarbone, hands sliding from your waist over your stomach to tug gently at the hem of your shirt - asking, as always. You nodded frantically, helping him as he pulled the clothing over your head and tossed it on the floor. You reached for him, popping open the button of his jeans and shoving them down just enough to free him from his boxers as he tugged your trousers down at the same time. 

Stephen’s head tipped back as a throaty groan ripped itself from his throat as you took him in your hand, giving him a few firm pumps. The feeling of your hand wrapped around him knocked the wind from him, especially as your thumb brushed against the head to collect the precum beading there, swirling it around the tip and letting it drip into your palm. You stroked him steadily, entranced by the way you could see his control unraveling in real time. 

‘Fuck, sweetheart-’ He said brokenly, voice catching on a breath as you tightened your grip slightly as you palmed over him, his hips stuttering forward involuntarily to fuck into your hand. You smiled, doing it again, and again just because you could, watching him closely as he braced one hand on the wall beside your head as his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. 

It wasn’t long, however, until he knocked your hand away, pinning it to the wall to stop you when you tried to grab at him again, desperate to feel him come undone under your touch. 

‘Mm-mm, love. None of that. I’m making up for lost time.’ He said in your ear. You swallowed, nodding again. Stephen copied you, patting your cheek in approval when he figured you weren’t going to try and grab him again. 

‘Good girl. Now stay right there for me, okay?’ He instructed. You nodded again, not really trusting yourself to speak at this point. Stephen met your gaze, holding it with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat as he slowly lowered himself to his knees in front of you. You let out a weak moan as you realised what he was doing, body pliant as he lifted your leg, dropping your thigh over his shoulder as he knelt. His cock bobbed between his legs as he looked up at you, but he paid it no mind, especially as his gaze finally broke from yours and landed on your cunt, your panties the only barrier left between him and salvation. 

‘You have no idea,’ he started, and you groaned at the want lining his tone as he reached up to pull your panties to the side, ‘how long I’ve been wanting to do this - how much I’ve wanted to taste you. God- every time I saw you- wearing those little skirts of yours, or in the morning when you’re just in your pyjamas- I just wanted to pin you down and make you cry.’ He said darkly, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to the top of your crotch, taking a deep breath and groaning when your scent hit his nose - heady, raw, and entirely yours. His cock twitched pathetically against his thigh, unhappy at being ignored. Stephen didn’t even seem to notice as he lifted his head up, tongue falling out of his mouth to lick a long stripe up your cunt. 

After so long, the pleasure was almost overwhelming. Your knees buckled, leg locking around Stephen’s head to keep him where you wanted him. He let out a muffled moan as he was suddenly shoved deeper into your cunt, but he put up no fight, arms instead coming to wrap around your raised thigh and waist to hold you steady as he licked into you. Your hands tangled in his hair, gripping probably harder than you meant to as you helped him find a rhythm, guiding his head up and down so his nose bumped your clit at just the right angle while his tongue fucked into you, darting around your hole as he drank each drop of your slick. He moaned, the vibration causing you to moan out loud, head tipping back against the wall as you lost yourself in the feeling of him. 

Stephen was in heaven right now. Your plush thighs on either side of his head, and your sweet cunt before him, wet and warm and inviting. He couldn’t get enough of you - your taste, your scent, the sound of your moans above him, he was obsessed. He sucked your clit into his mouth, drawing patterns over the swollen flesh with the tip of his tongue, moaning into you when your hands fisted in his hair. Your muscles heaved, stomach sucked in as your face contorted with pleasure. You knew it wouldn’t take much for you to cum, not when Stephen was working you with such fervour, his tongue lapping at your folds like it was his last meal on earth, sloppily making out with your cunt and spreading your slick all across his jaw and nose. 

‘Ste- Stephen-‘ Was all the warning you could give before your orgasm barrelled into you. Your muscles spasmed, your legs shaking as you reached your peak. The sheer intensity of it made your eyes roll back, shockwaves of pleasure rolling through you with a force that made your head spin and jaw drop open. Stephen guided you through it, jaw working tirelessly as he sucked on your clit before ducking his head down to catch your cum on his tongue, moaning helplessly at the taste of you. 

When your fingers finally unlocked from where they were fisted in his hair, he sat back on his calves and looked up at you. You moaned again at the sight of him - eyes blown wide with lust, lips shiny and swollen with your slick, chin and jaw painted in a shiny layer of your cum, and a satisfied smile on his face. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, wasting no time as he stood up and grabbed you by the waist. You yelped as he picked you up, helping you to wrap your legs around his waist. 

He carried you to the living room, sitting down on the couch and manoeuvring you until you were sat on his lap, wasting no time in sliding his cock into you in one smooth thrust until he was seated fully inside you. The stretch sent you reeling, cunt clenching and unclenching around him as you adjusted. The added lubrication of your cum helped, but after so long without him it felt like your first time again. Stephen’s breath came in short bursts as he resisted the urge to fuck up into you, giving you a few gracious seconds to adjust to his size. 

‘Okay, love?’ He said, brushing some hair out of your eyes. You nodded, whimpering slightly as you shifted around on his lap, trying your best to distill the pressure you were experiencing right now. It wasn’t pleasurable just yet, but it was getting there as Stephen ran his hands up and down your sides, touch warm and light as he helped you relax. 

‘Mhm, just- ’s been a while.’ You muttered. Stephen laughed derisively, humming in agreement. Your mouth snapped shut as you shifted your hips again, the tip of him brushing against that spot inside you that had you seeing stars. 

‘Mm, you can say that again.’ He said, taking your silence to mean that you were ready for him as he thrust his hips up, a moan punching out of him as you clenched around him again. 

‘Fuck- so tight, Jesus Christ, love-’ He said through gritted teeth, hands settling at your waist to guide you as he fucked into you. The angle shoved him deep inside you, impaling you on his cock with each downward movement. You were boneless, not a single thought in your head besides the way the head of him nudged your cervix, the ridges and veins of him dragging along your walls and pressing against every single one of your sweet spots. Your cunt twitched with overstimulation, the pleasure turning sharp and bordering on painful as Stephen fucked you. 

‘Stephen- ’s too much, I can’t-’ You whined, falling forwards to rest your head in the crook of his shoulder. Warm hands came up to rub circles over your back, and you felt him press a flutter of gentle kisses to the crown of your head. 

‘I know, sweetheart. But feels good, yeah? Come on, be brave for me, love. Can’t have you tapping out so soon, not when I’m only just getting started with you.’ He muttered, cupping the back of your head and holding you to him as he thrust into you more gently this time. He fucked you like that for a while - slow, deep thrusts that had you whining as you adjusted, the pain slowly melting into mind-numbing pleasure as you relaxed around him. 

‘There she is, that’s my girl. Okay now?’ Stephen murmured. You nodded, lifting your head up to look him in the eye. Stephen stifled a groan at your appearance - your eyes were wet, a combination of the pleasure and relief of having him after so long almost too much for you. Sweat beaded at your hairline, and your cheeks were flushed red from exertion. 

‘Yeah, ‘m good. Fuck- ’s deep.’ You gritted out, experimentally grinding your hips forward. Stephen couldn’t help the moan that came out of him as he felt you around him, gripping him so tightly as you fucked yourself on him. His hand traced down your back until it found yours, linking your fingers together as you set a faltering rhythm. He brought your linked hands to his mouth, brushing a kiss across your knuckles, before guiding them down to press against your lower stomach. You whined as he flattened your hand over your stomach and placed his over the top. As he rocked his hips forward, you could feel the indent of him against your palm, a slight, prodding feeling that sent your mind reeling. 

‘Feel that, love?’ He said. You nodded, gaze hazy with pleasure and love as you thrust your hips faster, pure need for your husband throbbing throughout your whole body. 

‘Mhm, I can- can feel you. Fuck- I’ve missed this.’ You gasped, throwing your head back. Stephen nodded, squeezing your hand as he started to fuck into you faster. He planted his feet on the floor, giving him the leverage he needed to meet your thrusts halfway, the slap of your skin filling the room as your ass hit his bare thighs repeatedly. 

‘Fuck- God, Stephen- feels so good-’ You moaned brokenly, grasping blindly at his chest to ground yourself. He caught your flailing hand, pressing it to his chest to help steady you as you bounced on him. He leant forward to wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking into his mouth, laving his tongue over it before swapping to the other one, smiling against you as you pushed your chest forward to chase the feeling of his mouth against you. 

‘I know, angel. Feels- feels good for me too. Fuck- not gonna last-’ He said, driving up into you harder now, chasing the slick warmth of your cunt wrapped around him, the pressure of you sliding up and down his throbbing cock almost too much to bear after so long apart. 

‘’S okay, me neither- fuck.’ You stuttered out as your orgasm approached you once more. 

It didn’t take long until Stephen was fucking into you with reckless abandon, cock pistoning in and out of your cunt as he gripped your ass to move you up and down on him. Your head lolled backwards, eyes fixed on the ceiling above as you gave yourself over completely to your husband. You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, clit throbbing and swollen where it ground against the coarse hair at the base of his cock, the sensation making your eyes roll as he fucked into you deeper. 

‘C’mon, love, wanna feel you cum around me again, yeah? Gonna do that for me?’ Stephen said, voice low and wrecked in your ear as he dropped a hand to where you connected to rub at your overstimulated clit. You let out a choked scream, orgasm ripping through you at the sudden added sensation. Sparks exploded behind your eyelids, entire body locking with the force of it. Stephen held onto you, keeping you upright as he fucked you through it. 

‘Fuck, there she is- such a good girl for me. Just a little longer- nearly there, love.’ Stephen moaned out, grabbing onto your waist and pulling you towards him so you were chest to chest, using the new angle to fuck into you faster, watching as your mouth dropped open. He was close, so close now- the combination of watching you fall apart on top of him and the feeling of being inside you after so long, your soft, slick cunt sucking him in over and over bringing him closer to the edge he’d been chasing for the better part of a month. 

‘C’mon, Stephen- want you to cum inside me- fill me up- want it, please-’ You whined, voice high and breathy with overstimulation and the aftershocks of your previous high, but still edged with enough neediness that sent pleasure rippling through Stephen’s body, the thought of you still needing more from him sending him over the edge. He fucked into you one last time, sheathing himself fully inside you with a growl as he came. His cock throbbed inside you, twitching as he emptied himself inside you in the most powerful orgasm he thinks he’d ever had. His hips continued to thrust into you in desperate little movements as he rode out his high, a guttural groan spilling out of him. 

He stayed inside you as you caught your breath, the ends of your fingers and tips of your toes tingling with the force of it as you came down from your high. Stephen rubbed your sore thighs, coaxing feeling back into them from where they’d started to go numb. 

‘Breathe for me, love. In and out.’ Stephen directed, patting your cheek so you looked at him as he guided you through it. You followed him, taking a deep breath in and out until your heart stopped pounding in your chest. Slowly, you became aware of the sensation of the mixture of Stephen’s and yours’ cum dripping out of you, leaking around the base of his cock onto his thighs. He followed your gaze towards it, laughing slightly as he tilted his head to get a better look. 

‘Messy girl, aren’t you?’ He teased, laughing again when you made a noise of offence. 

‘Shut up, half of it’s yours.’ You shot back, folding your arms across your chest. You didn’t miss the way Stephen’s gaze dropped to where your tits spilled over your forearms for half a second before flicking back up to your face. You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. Your husband just shrugged, tipping his head back onto the back of the couch. It was your turn to eye him up, tracing your eyes along the long column of his throat, watching as his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, still catching his breath. 

You two stayed like that for a while, until the feeling of the sticky liquids between your thighs became too much for you to bear. You shakily stood up, grabbing onto Stephen’s bicep for support (and because you kind of just wanted to feel him up a little more), before guiding the two of you into the shower, grimacing when you felt the mess between your legs dripping down onto your inner thigh. Stephen got it started whipping off his hoodie before stepping in, adjusting the temperature to your liking before extending a hand to help you in. He positioned you so you were under the hot spray, hands automatically coming up to rest at your waist as you rest your head against his bare chest. 

‘This ’s nice. We should send the kids away more often.’ You murmured, watching the droplets as they raced down the broad expanse of his chest and onto the tiled floor. His chest hair glistened with the moisture, and you couldn’t resist running your tongue over his collarbone where the water collected for a brief moment before tumbling to the floor. Stephen’s breath hitched slightly, barely audible over the rushing of the shower. 

‘Hm, yeah. But I think we’d miss them, y’know?’ He replied, idly running his fingers through the damp ends of your hair, working out the knots that had formed over the last few hours. You hummed in agreement, letting your eyes slip shut as you basked in the warmth of the spray and his body beneath you. Stephen held you close as he reached around you for your body wash. 

‘C’mon, then. Let’s get you cleaned up. The night’s still young.’ He said. You laughed, begrudgingly standing up so he could grab your washcloth. He squirted a small amount onto it before pressing it to your skin, carefully brushing it over your sore cunt. Your eyes fell shut again as he washed you, a feeling of contentment coming over you as you stood under the shower, head tilted back to run it over your sweaty face. 

You insisted on doing the same, never one to miss out on an opportunity to take care of your husband. Stephen had always been one to do things without a thought for himself, solely focused on you and the kids and keeping you happy. So, whenever the opportunity presented itself, you jumped at the chance to do anything for him, even if it was something as small as this. You used a generous amount of body wash - his own, not yours - spreading it across his chest and back. He let out a soft breath, leaning his forehead against yours as your nails scraped gently over his stomach, the muscles flexing under your touch. 

‘Stephen….’ You breathed, hands ghosting lower, your fingertips barely brushing over where his cock lay half-hard against his t high. 

‘Mm?’ He said, not opening his eyes, but you caught the amused edge in his tone. You swallowed thickly, sliding your hand down the strong curve of his thigh to cup him gently. His breath stuttered, cock twitching slightly against your hand. 

‘Could you- can you turn around?’ You asked. Stephen hesitated slightly, before complying. The ease with which he listened to you made your heart flutter with love, and you pressed a kiss to his shoulderblade as you moved yourself closer until your stomach was against his back, taking his cock in your hand once again. You pumped him slowly, your palm slick with water and soap, and so it wasn’t long until he was fully hard once again in your grip. He bent forwards, bracing his elbow against the wall and resting his head on his forearm as you stroked him. 

‘So pretty, Stephen.’ You murmured, turning to rest your cheek against his back as you tightened your grip slightly, dragging your palm over the head of him and spreading the wetness you found there over it. Stephen gasped, hips twitching forward into your grip. You shushed him softly, rubbing your thumb over the slit and dragging your hand back down the length of him. 

‘I’ve got you. Just relax.’ You said. Jerking him faster now, his breath came in ragged bursts as he locked his gaze on the sight of your hand wrapped around him. You loved him like this - pliant and soft beneath your touch, for once unburdened by familial duties or work. You wished you could’ve seen his face, but the sound of his breathy moans and whines was more than enough for you right now. His cock throbbed in your palm, the velvety skin slick and warm in your grip as you stroked him, twisting your wrist on each upstroke and causing him to moan as he fucked slowly into your hand. 

‘God, love-’ He said, panting now as he neared the edge again. You nodded, kissing a line across his shoulders and down his back, following the little freckles you loved so much as you kept working him. 

‘I’ve got you. It’s okay.’ You assured, swirling your thumb around the tip, shamelessly dipping into the slit to collect the precum to slick your grip as you stroked him. Stephen moaned helplessly, eyes screwed shut as his world zeroed in on the feeling of you around him, your palm dragging across every vein of him, thumb swiping at the sensitive spot just under the head in an irregular rhythm that drove him crazy. His cock jumped in your grip as you brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, and he couldn’t help himself from bucking forwards into your grip to chase the feeling. You obliged him, focusing on the head in small, tight strokes until he was breathless, thighs trembling as he came again. It was gentler this time, his cum dribbling into your palm. You didn’t let up, pumping him until he pushed you away with his other hand, turning around to face you once again. 

You smiled up at him, quickly sticking your hand under the spray to wash it off before huddling in close so you could both be under the water. Stephen returned your smile, gaze warm and fond as he held you to him. 

‘Love you.’ 

He squeezed you briefly, returning your sentiment wordlessly. 

You stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out, reluctantly stepping out into the cold air of the bathroom. Stephen handed you your towel before grabbing his own, following you out into your shared bedroom. You didn’t bother getting dressed as you dried off before flopping onto your bed, Stephen quick to follow behind you. All the exhaustion of the last hours caught up to you as you lay there, and you felt yourself quickly falling asleep, comforted by the solid warmth of your husband next to you. 

‘Go to sleep, love. I’ll still be here when you wake up,’ He murmured, stroking over your hair where you lay. You nodded sleepily, burrowing further into the sheets as you got comfortable. 

stand-alones

ꪆৎ d.i.l.f

𖤐ꪆৎ making the bed

ꪆৎ baby fever

ʚɞ mustang baby

𖤐 ꪆৎ crashing out

𖤐 ʚɞ ꪆৎ only bought this dress so you could take it off

𖤐 ʚɞ even if its a false god

ʚɞ kinda hope they catch us (ft. becky + ab)

ʚɞ passenger princess (ft. willne)

series !

ৎ୭𖤐ꪆৎ whatever happens, i’m letting it | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | part fourteen | part fifteen | part sixteen | part seventeen | final part | epilogue - completed