#willne fic

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. 

One he fully intends to keep. 

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?”

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.

Decided.

And so you continued on with falling into step with London and its antics. You went to James’ gigs and pretended not to see the way Will was glaring at you on the balcony, where he just so happened to be as well. You went to see Chris in his studio and avoided Will’s stares as you were leaving and just so happened to bump into him in the building. You went out to the pub with the whole group, clinging to Becky’s arm, and tried hard not to let Will’s snarky comments about your new video get under your skin. 

“Happy to see you’re consistent with your content, Y/N,” he muttered once, a pint in his hand, “there’s never enough Zoella-wannabe’s on the market, I’ll tell you that.”

A pit of hot anger swelled in the bottom of your stomach. You tried hard not to let it get to you, you did– because you knew that arguing with him would only make things so much worse for everyone. You were the newcomer of the friend group, you didn’t want to start up any unnecessary drama. Will was just a very sour person, and for some reason, you always got the best of this attitude. “Yeah, because opening Temu packages is some worldchanging content,” you uttered back, catching a few laughs from your mates around the table.

Will didn’t say a single word to you for the rest of the night, and even though it sounds unfortunate, you were actually kind of happy for the fact.

One time while filming a video together for Chris’ channel– a challenge where you had to keep kicking penalties farther and farther away from the goal– Will kept glaring at you so much that even the viewers started to get a little suspicious, creating all those useless theories online. Some of them said you two must have had a falling out (which is ironic, since you never even had a falling in), while some delusionally said he was just staring at you intently because he was interested in you. 

You tried to make yourself believe you didn’t really care.

But the truth is, maybe you did.

Because even before you moved to London, Will was one of the creators you followed. You used to watch his early videos and like all of his Instagram posts. He seemed down to earth and casual– the person you’d love to be friends with. Hell, at one point, you’d even admit to him being a little cute. Sue you.

But the reality? He hated you. He despised being in your presence. Worst thing? You didn’t even know why.

You started to question yourself every time you were around him. It’s not like he was hostile, he was just very unwelcoming. One time, he called you and Becky obnoxious when you were fawning over Max Verstappen, and even though the girl insisted he was being unserious, the comment stung. And it also stuck. 

Was your energy too much? Were you being annoying? Did everyone else feel the same as Will, but didn’t tell you because they didn’t want to hurt your feelings?

You’ll drop it.

You swear you will.

And you did, eventually– when another newcomer found his way into the group. Alfie was a little younger than you, but still, much closer to your age than the rest of them, and his college drop out energy was just what you needed to truly break free. 

After a few shared recordings, streams and meetings downtown, you fell into step with him easier than anyone else in the group. He understood your immature jokes and laughed at them along with you, making some himself. He walked you home and boosted that if anything was to happen, he could protect you with his ‘big guns’ that he even let you touch in the dim lightning of the pub one time (which made you giggle, heat rising to your cheeks. You’ve had a few beers at that point, to your defense– and you’re glad about it. It made Will’s stern glare and the calculated eye-roll at the action much easier to ignore).

Just being around Alfie was easy. He never made you feel unwelcome– hell, he cheered every time you walked through the door, genuinely excited to see you. Alfie made you feel included and clung to you like a lifeline, claiming you were his second working brain cell. You enjoyed his presence. 

Somehow, close to Alfie, you forgot all about Will hating you. It simply didn’t matter anymore. You were enjoying yourself, the lingering doubt of being an imposter leaving your subconsciousness. You were feeling free.

All until one evening.

It was a Fellas party. You weren’t really that close with either Cal or Chip, but Alfie was– which meant he begged you to come along with him. “I need a babysitter or else I drink too much, you know me, Y/N,’” he proposed.

“I just think you need to hang out around Chip less,” you joked, “and also, some self-control.” Nonetheless, you went along with him. 

You wore your, admittedly, most revealing dress. You did your makeup really pretty and put your hair down in all its glory, the way your girlfriends always told you looked the best. Tonight wasn’t just pub and drinks– it was a reserved bar in central London, people you’ve never met before attending, and girlfriends of the boys paying their visit. You had to make sure you didn’t embarrass yourself.

“Y/N!” Alfie called after you the moment you arrived, already a little buzzed. “You look fit,” he whistled, reaching his arms around you and pulling you close.

A giggle escaped your lips at the comment, shaking your head at the boy. “You clean up well too,” you click your tongue, “who would’ve thought?”

“Ah, just admit it,” he jokes, “you’d go home with me if I asked, wouldn’t ya?”

An amused laugh dragged itself out of your throat, knowing well Alfie was just poking fun. While you must admit he was attractive, your dynamic was strictly friendly– lighthearted flirts, but also teasing and playing around. It’s the dynamic you establish only in the closest friendships, and you were happy to share that with someone. 

“The moment would die down before we’d get through the sock piles on your floor, love,” you muse, grinning when the man tugs you towards the bar instead, no response to your previous conversation.

“Vodka soda?” Alfie asks you, raising his brows at you. A soft smile tugs at his corners, making you playfully push his shoulder.

“We’re not here to get hammered, AB,” you say, “what do you have me for? When have I ever just ordered a pure vodka soda?”

“Like, last week–”

“Never!” you gasp, shaking your head. “We need to keep it classy. I’ll get an espresso martini,” you wave your hand at him, disapproving of his claims.

Alfie sighs at you, but still orders the drinks nonetheless, reaching for his wallet when the bartender gets them out. “What are you doing? I’m financially independent, y’know.”

“It’s for going with me,” he furrows his brows at you, “fuck off and let me be a gentleman once.”

“Is that a tactic to get girls tonight?” 

“A tactic to get you, baby,” he blows you a kiss and a wink, making you punch his shoulder and laugh as he taps his card against the register, paying for your drinks.

His arm finds its way around your waist, leading you towards the crowd of people hanging around the bar. He keeps you next to him at all times, whispering comments into your ear and making you laugh, anchoring you in. You’re thankful for his presence, not really being close to the rest of the circle– it’s some of the Sidemen, who you haven’t spoken to many times before, some youtubers you haven’t even heard of, and girlfriends of the usual circle that don’t come out to the pubs with the rest like you do. Not even Becky is here– which you mourn, since you always hit it off with her.

Somewhere along the way, your glass empties, the conversation stills and you feel mother nature begging you to escape to the toilet. So that’s what you do– slipping away from Alfie that gives your hip a gentle squeeze as you go, a reassurement that you’ll find him exactly where he is when you come back. After you’re done with the business and your lipstick is reapplied in the dirty mirror of the bar bathroom, you think to yourself to get another drink for you and Alfie– to repay the favour– so naturally, you stop at the bar.

“Two espresso martinis, please,” you smile at the bartender, fixing your hair. When the drinks come out and you pay for them with your card, you almost bump into someone on your way. 

Right next to you, seemingly waiting for his drink, is someone you didn’t expect to see tonight. Well, it’s not like his presence here is surprising– he is friends with at least half of the room. If anything, you’re the one out of place, having just joined the scene, but you try hard not to think about it, at least tonight. You just didn’t expect to bump into him tonight– you expected to just be with Alfie, enjoy yourself, and after too many drinks, call it a night. 

No interaction with Will Lenney needed.

“Posh,” he comments, “don’t think he’ll appreciate those.”

You stare at him, caught a little off-guard. He’s wearing a blue striped button up and black pants, hair ridded off his usual cap. It’s a nice look on him– but that’s about the only positive thing you can say about the interaction.

“What?” you murmur.

“Don’t think he’s a posh drink type of guy,” he shrugs, “you’d be better off with a shot of rum, innit.”

Glancing at the drinks in your hands, you furrow your brows at the interaction. It’s not like Will to talk to you about anything– if it’s not for some kind of off-handed insult or a jab taken at your personality. This whole thing makes you confused, brain lagging and getting lost in the darkness of his blue eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re for AB, no? Since he takes you everywhere like you’re his damn pet, or something.”

Of course. You should’ve known better than to think this was a friendly interaction. It was Will Lenney, for fuck’s sake.

“Is that bad, or something?” you mutter, trying to play off the squeezing of your chest. Deep down, you know there’s nothing bad about you hanging out with Alfie, but the tone, the stare Will sends you when he says those words, makes you question everything about every single interaction you’ve had with the young man so far.

“Nah, ‘course not,” he snickers, shrugging, “just noticed you clinging to him like a lapdog lately, that’s all.”

The words sting. And you already know they’ll stick.

Obnoxious.

Lapdog.

Not able to control your expression anymore, your face betrays you. The inner turmoil is too strong for you to keep an unaffected face, too sharp to not cut you and make your faked indifference finally swim up to the surface after so many months of pretending you don’t care, of pretending you’re unaffected.

“You’re such a cunt, you know that?” you let slip out, your voice breaking a little at the end. You’ve never been the strongest when it comes to the opinion of others, letting it affect the way you see yourself so easily. And you know it’s none of Will’s business or responsibility how his words make you feel, but you already know this comment might change the way you feel about yourself for the next few weeks, months. “I know you don’t exactly like me, but does that mean no one else can either?” you get out, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Will’s face falls. He looks almost panicked– which is ironic. You did nothing to hurt him. You did nothing to ruin his mood.

“I never said–”

“You’ve been acting like a complete dickhead towards me for the past– fuck, since you met me, Will, and I don’t know why, nor do I fucking care anymore,” you blurt out, suddenly losing all filter, “but please try not to ruin it for me when someone finally makes me feel wanted and included somewhere, would you?”

His mouth opens and closes, taking gulps of air into his lungs. You see the gears in his brain turning, coming up with a response to rile you up even more, but you don’t give him the satisfaction. 

Instead, you walk away from him, downing both of the drinks before you reach Alfie and the rest again, smiling through the discomfort as you feel Will’s eyes burning a hole into your back.

Will didn’t really know what it was about you that made him so stupidly obsessed with you. At first, he thought he was just annoyed with you. Or maybe intrigued– you were new in London and the group decided it was their job to make you feel welcome and at home. He didn’t mind you at all, initially– quite the opposite, really.

But the more he got to know you, the more he started to get irritated with you. 

Like that day he saw you at one of James’ London gigs. Nobody told him you were going– which made him scoff in disbelief. You could’ve gone together! Now he looked like a tit in front of everyone for not even talking to you. His eyes kept naturally gravitating towards you throughout the whole set, watching you dance. Something in him was annoyed at the fact that you barely acknowledged his presence, but he didn’t push for the interaction either.

Or that day at the pub. He was deeply aware he was the only one that wasn’t as close with you. He felt like there was something about him that you found hard to approach, something that kept you from interacting with him as much as with the others. And he does admit he hadn’t put much effort into getting close with you either, but that was simply because he couldn’t figure you out, which only made him more irritated. He didn’t know what to talk to you about or what to bring up– and so his tactic started to be to just treat you like he treats the rest of his mates (even though he’d hate if your dynamic ended up at the state it is with him and Stephen, for example). He didn’t realize his playful teasing didn’t come across as funny to you– he didn’t mean to insult you. The misunderstanding only made him more annoyed– he was trying! And he was trying hard.

Another evening at the pub, he overheard you talking about F1 with Becky. Something in him lit up like a firework, buzzing in his fingertips as he moved his attention to fully listen to you talk about the race happening over the weekend. His excitement of finally having a mutual interest with you that he could use and get closer to you was even apparent to Goeorge, which was a little embarrassing. The male teased him about rolling his eyes and sulking when he called you obnoxious for liking Verstappen– which wasn’t meant to be an insult to you, even though he sensed you took it like that.

Which, admittedly, was hard to understand in any different way. It was just the hardcore Hamilton fan in him that spoke out. At worst, he was calling your choice of favorite driver obnoxious, not you! 

But the difference in opinion only made him realize that now, he can’t even talk about your mutual interest with you. As a self-proclaimed Red bull hater, your stance made him annoyed. 

It wasn’t personal, though! 

Will was starting to get annoyed with you all the time. Like the way he always used to bump into you at the office. You were visiting Chris, and neither of you thought to tell him and invite him to hang out together. Chris was his friend first, after all– didn’t he get some privileges in this? Maybe he wanted to get to know you better as well! There was so much about you he didn’t know, and was curious to learn about.

After a while, Will convinced himself he hated you. For what reason? Well, that was unknown to him as well. He just felt a strong mix of emotions towards you, and not able to decipher them, he thought that at core, they must be hatred.

He watched all of your videos just to spite himself. He noticed all your favorite makeup products, remembered your coffee order just because you mentioned it in a vlog once and he desperately needed something about you to make fun of. Hell, he even had his post notifications on for you– that’s how deep the hatred went.

He obsessively checked your Instagram page every day. Just staring at your face made him irritated– because for some reason, it felt like he was the least important person in your life. You paid him no attention at all, unless he was targeting you with a not-so-nice remark.

Maybe he was doing all of this for attention, after all. The realization was embarrassing and late to arrive, but it struck him like lightning from the clear sky the fated evening a young, broad man joined the circle. 

Because hate and love seem to be on a really, really thin ice, don't they? 

Will knows what you like to do in your free time, just so he can joke at your expense the next time you all meet for a pint. Or maybe… maybe he knows what you like to do in your free time, because he is trying to find something in the list that he could silently, naturally slip into just to spend some time with you.

Will hate-watches your get ready with me’s, just so he can fuel his annoyance with you in private. Or maybe he just likes to stare at your face for a prolonged period of time, taking you in. He’s familiar with the slope of your lips, hypnotized by them when you apply lipgloss on camera. He remembers the curve of your nose and the colors that make your eyes pop. He knows it all. (And in his opinion, you’re way more entertaining at it than Zoella ever was.)

Will makes fun of you for his own satisfaction. Or maybe… maybe he enjoys the attention you give him. Maybe he relishes in your smart come backs, amazed by the wittiness not even his life-long friends have in their insults to him. 

All he’s doing, it’s quite masochistic, really.

Hate and love can sometimes look really similar. The stupidity of his initial assumption of this conflict only came to light the moment Will realized he hates your proximity with a certain man in the group.

He was irritated by the sweet looks AB was always giving you. He hated his arm around you, the way he would playfully wink at you and not get punched in his face for it. Will despised how all of your attention was now glued to the younger boy– the more muscular, more handsome, more funny of the group. He wanted to put his fist through the wall every time you two showed up somewhere together. 

And this is when Will finally started to think a little logically– because realistically, why would he give a single flying fuck if you were friends with someone? You were everyone’s friend– just not his. Why would it matter if you were close with AB?

He googled his symptoms.

Closed the laptop when a Reddit thread told him he’s jealous.

It was annoying. All of it.

You and AB didn’t even have anything in common! All he had to do was be sweet and smile at you a couple of times. 

Oh.

All he had to do was just be sweet and smile at you a couple of times.

Will didn’t realize he fucked up before it was too late. Standing in the middle of a crowded bar, a little buzzed and seeing green. Your face morphed into shock, something in your voice breaking making his insides collapse on themselves, the full weight of his words finally settling in and making him despise no one else but himself.

He didn’t realize his actions were hurting you. He was just… figuring it out.

Which is why when he sees you in the communal kitchen right between his and Chris’ office, standing around with a warm mug of coffee in your hand, he decides to finally grow some balls and approach you with a little bit more kindness, a little bit of remorse from his side.

His footsteps are hesitant as he enters the shared space, bracing himself for some kind of hostility from you. However, all you give him is a quick glance followed by focused ignorance, gaze trailing everywhere around the room before you decide it’s your time to leave the room. Will should’ve known– you were never going to lash out on him. That’s above your level. That’s not something you’d do, no matter how terrible he’s treated you in the past. You carry yourself with grace and dignity, something Will has always admired, and this situation is no different. You’re choosing to protect your peace by leaving, and Will could never blame you for that.

It just made things a little harder for him, he admits. But he decides it’s time to finally break the cycle. It’s time to do better, even though it could be too late.

“Hey,” he half greets you, half calls for your attention when you’re almost out of the door, voice low and unsteady, uncertain in all aspects when it comes to interacting with you.

The shock in your frame is visible as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, brows furrowed when you stare at him. It’s clear you didn’t expect him to acknowledge your existence, which only makes Will feel more like an asshole. 

“Hi,” you reply, already walking towards the door.

“Can I- Can I talk to you for a sec?” he asks, chewing at his lower lip, stomach feeling like it’s floating on water.

“What about?” you mumble in disinterest.

Will sighs, pinching the skin between his eyebrows. His inner monologue is not enough for him to really place the words into correct sentences, and even though he tried to rehearse the conversation in his head over and over again when he couldn’t fall asleep at night or during the walk to his office, he failed to get a clear picture of what he really wanted to say, or how the dialogue could play out. He didn’t know you enough to predict what your stance would be, and he wasn’t skilled enough at talking about his emotions to truly tell you what’s been eating him alive for the past few months, too sheltered and too protective of his feelings to get so vulnerable.

This wasn’t about him, though– he recognizes the fact and owes up to it. It didn’t have to be perfect, he thinks– the main thing is to apologize, no matter how unpolished and awkward the situation might be.

“I just wanted to say sorry for what I said,” he says, swallowing hard. “I didn’t mean it that way and I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”

A thick blanket of silence falls over the kitchen, your body finally turning to face the man. He can’t read your expression and every time he tries to lock his gaze with you to get the slightest hint, you avert your eyes. Will feels like he’d been stripped naked in front of you, hating the way he is being perceived, but he knows he has to fight through it.

“I feel like a complete asshole, which to be fair, I was, and– and I hate the way I made you feel not welcome or excluded before. I didn’t realize it affected you like that…” he mumbles, a string of unplanned and badly stuck together words spilling from out between his chapped lips, his figure shifting weight from one foot to another, anxiously waiting for your reply.

The more time passes between his apology and your reply, the more he thinks you might never speak to him again at all. He hates the idea of it, absolutely despises it, but with the lengthy seconds passing, he thinks he might have to get used to it as his new reality. His own self-induced hell.

“Well, it did. It’s okay if you hate me, I can’t… have everyone like me, y’know, as much as I would love that,” you chuckle bitterly, “I just didn’t enjoy the way you showed it so openly.”

“I don’t hate you,” Will shakes his head, panicked and trying to get the words straight. “At all, actually. I think we just… started off on a bad foot, that’s all. To which I’m sorry, again…”

A hum escapes your throat, seemingly not really satisfied with the apology. Will doesn’t blame you– he himself was quite confused with the way he was acting. He can’t expect you to just run into his arms and start acting like his best friend. It doesn’t work like that. Friendships need work and effort, and Will knows it hasn’t really been easy to get along with him all those months.

“Well, okay then,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Thanks for apologizing.”

“I- I don’t expect you to forgive me, I know I’ve been a total cunt, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry and I hope you don’t feel uncomfortable whenever I’m around. And- and if you do, I can avoid you, give you space, or something…” he scratches the back of his neck, not really sure where he’s going with this either.

You force a smile onto your cheeks– the one that’s kind of bitter and doesn’t reach your eyes, nor do your lips really outstretch that much, just a little upturn of your corners– and nod. “It’s fine. I’ll get going now, Chris is waiting for me in the office,” you say, already halfway out of the door. “Bye, Will.”

The coffee he makes himself after is bitter and burns his tongue. The edit he does stuck onto his chair goes worse than expected. It rains on the way home. Will thinks he deserves it.

He feels a bit awkward the next few times you two meet in passing. He puts effort into smiling at you when he says hello to you after he sees you leaving Chris’ office or in the coffee shop down the block from where you two live, and sometimes, you even smile back at him. He focuses on being approachable. Uplifting. 

One day, you come into the pub with Becky, sporting a new haircut. None of the guys really notice, but when you slot yourself into the booth diagonally across Will, he acknowledges it and says you look lovely. Every time he remembers the choice of words, he wants to carve his tongue out, but you smiled at him all appreciative– a real smile this time, perhaps the first one since you two have met– and so Will thinks he might be okay with the way the interaction went after all.

There’s a shift between the two of you after that. 

Will cheers for you when the group goes to a karaoke bar, acting like you’re Sabrina Carpenter yourself, and not just covering her song along with George screeching to the other mic with you. He high-fives you when you and Becky win at bowling and manages to get through small talk with you when it’s only the two of you left alone at the table and the rest have scattered to the bathroom or the bar.

Will thinks it’s progress. He still hates the way AB clings to you like you are his wife, but he doesn’t mention it out loud. It’s none of his business, and he isn’t willing to take three steps back right after taking a hesitant step forward if he causes yet another scene.

He manages to successfully mingle himself into the conversation when you talk about F1 with Harry and Becky again, being really cautious of the way he speaks about your favorites. You don’t ignore his two cents in the dialogue, hell, you even direct some thoughtful sentences at him, and he swears he feels like there’s sun peeking from behind the rain clouds, warming him up and inviting him in for better days.

Becky mentions the trip to Monaco. You express how badly you’d want to see a race live.

“You should go with us next time,” Will finds himself saying before he even has a chance to recalculate the direction the conversation is heading, “I’ll let you know in advance and text you the Airbnb link if you’re free, it’s much cheaper if we all share one place.”

You don’t dismiss the offer. You have plans for the weekend of the Belgium grand prix, though, which makes Will a little disappointed even as he watches the race, but he still texts you live updates and pictures of the circuit anyway. It’s the first proper text conversation he’s had with you, and much to his own surprise, you manage to keep it up after.

The chat is eventually filled with silly Instagram reels. One evening, you passionately talk about the Love island drama and Will finds himself laughing at your jokes a little too hard. You send him ugly pictures of Chris whenever you record with him and Will sends back pictures of James sleeping on the couch after a long day of opening Temu packages for his second channel.

One day, Will hypes himself up so much he asks you if you’d want to get coffee with him. You two have never managed to meet up one on one together before, so this felt like a huge step in the right direction. When you said yes, Will almost ran a lap around his apartment, excitement and adrenaline filling his veins. He didn’t know interacting with you would give him such a dopamine kick.

He fights the battle of finding the right balance between drenching himself in cologne and smelling decently good, alongside with choosing which pair of identical black pants would make him look the best for the occasion. He arrives at the coffee shop 15 minutes early and keeps anxiously checking his phone, as if this was a first date he was afraid you’d cancel on. 

Hell, he almost acts like it’s a date. He compliments you when you arrive in your pretty sundress and holds the door open for you, finding you rolling your eyes at his chivalry. He pays for your coffee and waves you off when you insist on Venmo-ing him back.

“It’s for the months of torture I accidentally put you through,” he jokes as you two sit at the table next to the window, your eyes following the bikers outside on the street. 

An amused smile reaches your face. Will kinda wants to take a picture of it to look at later. 

“You know, it’s kinda funny that we ended up here like this,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “Big progress from you calling me obnoxious, that is.”

“I just took your opinions very personally,” he defends himself, shrugging, “didn’t know you’d be so sensitive about it.”

“Says you,” you call him out, sighing. “You know, I still don’t get why you were so mean to me at the start, but it’s kinda funny to look back on it now. George even said one day how you might be doing it because you like me and want my attention, can you believe that?” you laugh. 

Like it’s funny.

Like it’s a joke.

Will almost chokes on his coffee. There’s beads of sweat appearing on his skin, threatening to roll down his back. He clears his throat to make himself sound normal, completely unaware of just how much more odd and calculated the action makes him seem.

“Well, that would just be awkward, wouldn’t it?” he mumbles, not really meeting your gaze.

He feels himself heating up. Does he have a fever? He feels like the world behind the window is moving a little unsteady, making his head spin. He hates himself for not taking his coffee iced– maybe that would help him feel a little better, to ease and cool down the volcano erupting in the pit of his stomach.

“Hm,” you hum in agreement, “Will?”

“Yeah?” he asks, voice raising 3 octaves.

“You’re blushing,” you deadpan, making him feel sick. This is not how he imagined the afternoon to go.

“It’s just hot in here.”

“The AC’s on.”

“Yeah, maybe they should turn it up more–”

“Are you serious?” you laugh, catching him off guard. He stares at you, taking your expression in– the big, blown-out eyes, an unfamiliar twinkle behind them. The subtle grin, your glossy lips matching the color on your smiley cheeks. You look pleasantly amused, totally at peace with the revelation Will knows he can’t really run away from anymore. 

“What? Why?”

“If you had a crush on me, you could’ve just said so!” you let out a laugh. Will doesn’t know how you can read him so well, but he bets the sweating and the shaking of his hands around the coffee cup really isn’t helping him either– you don’t need to be a body language expert to get this one straight.

“I didn’t have a crush on you, it’s just–”

“If you just glared at me a little less and talked to me more, we could’ve saved ourselves a lot of time, y’know,” you sweetly say, completely shutting Will up. 

Not because he doesn’t know what to say– just because he’s shocked you don’t hate the idea of him liking you. If he was feeling bold enough, he’d even say you were kind of open to the fact, a little bit pleased with the realization of the man’s true feelings for you. Will feels like the gates to heaven just opened right in front of him and all he has to do is take a courageous step through it to reach paradise.

“Well, let’s not waste any more time then, no?” he mumbles, still a little shy. “Is this a date, or should I invite you to another one?”

The cheeky smile you give him is worth more than any snarky remark or annoyed glare you used to give him before, just scraps of attention. Suddenly, Will feels stupid for ever making it so confusing for the both of you. 

Turns out, all along, it was that easy.

“You wanna get in the bath love? It’s fucking massive!” Will shrieked excitedly as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Nah I’m good.” You said (even though you weren’t). It had been raining all day long and your hair was a tattered mess. You were in desperate need of a hot shower and those fluffy hotel robes.

“Oh come on darling, you need to wash off all that gook.” Will said pointing towards the small scuffs of mud on your arms and some on your neck from when you fell into some mud earlier (thanks to Harry tripping you up as you two ran away from who you thought was the imposter).

“I’ll just take one later.” You tried to make him drop the idea but he just wouldn’t have it.

“Oh come on, we can get naked and maybe mess around in that warm, nice bath.” He said, kneeling in front of you on the bed rubbing his hands up and down your leg. You couldn’t say no any longer.

“Fine. But you get in first and I’ll join you in a second.” You said, releasing a deep sigh of defeat. A huge smile formed on his lips as he scurried off to the bathroom.

You walked over to your luggage and pulled out your makeup wipes and pocket mirror as you began wiping off all the makeup you had on. The final wipe of your face fully revealing all those small facial details that you always felt insecure about.

You also quickly popped out your contact lenses making the room look slightly fuzzy as you were finally ready to join Will in the bath. You hesitantly walked towards the bathroom, slowly slipping off each article of clothing as you walked in.

Will’s eyes grew large in surprise at your bare face (and maybe partially naked body).

“Fucking hell love.” He exclaimed, making your heart drop slightly. You worried that he wouldn’t like you like this. He met you with makeup on and has never seen you without. Even at times when it seemed like you weren't wearing makeup, the natural look did you wonders.

Your palms grew sweaty, you quickly reached for a robe pulling it over you as you turned to face the door. “You know, on second thought this bath doesn't look big enough for two people, I'll catch the next one.” You said about to walk out of the room.

You felt a pair of arms wrap around you, a warm comforting embrace, the one that knows exactly how to make you feel better.

“Lovely, get in the bath with me… please.” His voice went high, pleading with you to join him. You turned around in his arms, now you were face to face. 

You've never experienced this type of vulnerability with anyone in years. He was mere inches from your face, he could see every detail on you. Every freckle, every acne scar, the curve of your nose, the puffiness of your lips. Every last detail, and he found you just as beautiful, if not more.

In this moment, he saw you in a different light. A new beautiful light that exposed your true beauty behind the makeup and filters. He was stunned, he didn’t want to speak but just admire your beauty. 

You watched as he lifted his hand to your cheek, delicately running his fingers across your freckles as if counting each single one. Like stars in the sky on a dark night, they were just as lovely, he thought to himself.

“Wow.” He said breathlessly, he didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he spoke. You furrowed your brows still trying to pull away. “No, love, you’re fucking stunning.” He said in that thick geordie accent that comes out when he’s praising you as he lightly grabbed your arm.

“Will.” You said trying to pull away once more, the looming dread at the back of your mind still fighting against the way your heart is warming up to Will’s sweetness.

“Love, come here.” He said, opening his arms wide for you to snuggle into. You fell into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist as his wraps around your back. “Look at me.” He said, making you look up, your chin resting on his chest. 

“You are the most lovely creature that I have ever laid my eyes on. You are so fucking hot, I don’t even know how I got lucky enough to call you mine I swear.” He exclaimed, making you snicker a bit. 

“I hate seeing you feel like you’ve got to hide your true self from me. I want to see everything, know everything about you, learn every last detail. And I’ll share with you too! I’ve got some demons of my own, like serious stuff man.” His voice lowered as he got closer to your face.

“Really? You’re not the perfect man that you portray on the internet!?” You said jokingly with a chuckle. His lips fell into a wide, cheesy smile. “Ahh there she is, that bubbly, snotty little brat I fell for.” He teased pulling you tighter in for a proper deep bear hug. 

He loved this. He loved having you in his arms like this. He was so big that you fit in them so perfectly. He could stay like this for hours (or forever).

“Seriously, tell me everything about you even if you think it’s the most embarrassing thing in the world, I bet I will beat you.” He said with a soft chuckle.

“Well, since you’re about to find out anyways, I also wear glasses.” You said the last part quietly as if hoping he didn’t hear it and would just ignore it.

“WHAT!” He exclaimed, pushing you away lightly, his jaw open wide in disbelief. That feeling of doom forming again. 

“I have a hot girlfriend AND she wears glasses!? Can you get any hotter!?” He exclaimed as a blush formed on your face at the compliment. 

“You haven’t even seen me with them on, I look like a nerd-”

“Never, and even if you did you’d look like one of them naughty school teachers.”

“Will!”

“Wait a second I’ve got an idea for tonight!”

“No no, let’s start with the bath and see where we go from there.” You laughed pushing past him towards the tub, taking off the rest of your clothes.

“Okay but that isn’t a no-”

“Will!”

“Alright alright but I won’t be able to get it out of my head now.” 

It was only your second date when you brought it up. He'd been unconsciously checking his emails when you teasingly asked if there was somewhere he'd rather be.

You'd said it so lightly, grinning as you watched him shake himself, not realising that he was internally answering your question. No. There absolutely wasn't anywhere he'd rather be.

That was how quickly things shifted for him. He hadn't expected it but he'd secretly been wanting someone to come along and wrangle him. Someone to pull him out of work and force him into a balance. That was you, with your bright eyes and unwavering charm. You turned his world upside down and he was so grateful.

You're everything to him. His biggest supporter at every turn. You love how passionate he is. Seeing him work so hard to get what he wants is one of the things that first attracted you to him. Especially when it became abundantly clear that what he wanted was you.

He was besotted with you from the start, everyone could see it. Especially when he started researching engagement rings a few months in, just for when the time came.

When you'd first discussed having kids, Will's heart had been in his throat. You were so perfect, everything he could ever want or need, that if you had told him that it wasn't something you wanted, he'd consider giving that dream up. He really would have. But your eyes had lit up, and you'd talked so animatedly about wanting to be a good mum that he'd fallen in love with you all over again. He couldn't wait to raise some little hellions with you.

You'd started trying shortly after the wedding, nothing too serious, just no more late-night condom runs.

You hadn't expected anything to happen as quickly as it did. Three months after you'd gotten married, to the day, you'd taken that fateful test. Will was abroad for a video, you were a few days late and honestly, just a bit bored at home. If you'd actually thought sincerely that you were pregnant, you would have waited two days for Will to be there with you. But those two lines had taken you by surprise.

You wait until he's home to tell him. Draping a little, homemade 'Welcome Home' banner across the kitchen island, a small gift bag sitting on top.

He's already grinning when he walks through the door, so excited to be back home with you. He's bowled over when he sees you waiting in the kitchen with his surprise, telling you that you're adorable as he kisses you and hugs you tight. When he spots the gift bag he starts laughing.

"What are you doing woman? I've been gone a week."

You just shrug, biting your lip as he peeks into the bag and sees the test.

"No!" He gasps, a grin instantly beginning to spread across his lips as it sinks in. "Really? Please don't tell me this is a joke because my heart won't handle it. Are you really? Oh my god. Are you?"

He's a shocked and excited mess as he wraps his arms around you and doesn't let go until you've told him several times that you aren't joking. You're pregnant and he's going to be a dad.

From that moment on, he takes the title very seriously. He comes to all of your appointments. He reads every book he can get his hands on. He listens to every podcast. He asks for advice from his dad friends, as covertly as he can, i.e. not at all. You can't even blame him when he accidentally lets it slip to yet another person, just too excited to keep it to himself and desperate to do a good job when the time comes.

When it's safe to start telling people, on purpose, you've both had plenty of time to think about it. You both like to keep your private life to yourselves, as much as is possible with his career, so a big announcement doesn't feel right. Instead, you settle on an idea he had in the middle of the night; a video trying pregnancy cravings with James.

You hadn't told him yet and weren't showing so much that you couldn't cover it with a baggy shirt. So when you rock up to the shoot, you tell him you're just popping in early to meet Will for lunch. You watch from behind the camera as plate after plate of unhinged combinations get put in front of the duo. It's James' nightmare, all the mixtures of flavours and textures and he's crashed out so many times by the time the last plate is placed on the table.

"I can't do any more." James complains, turning his nose up at the blueberries covered in cinnamon sugar.

"Come on, last one." Will says, popping one in his mouth, a grin tugging on his lips as he swallows. "This one is special, viewers. It's actually one of my lovely wife's."

It takes a second for James to register what he's said, still toying with the fruit. Then he thinks Will's joking.

"Don't mess with me like that." He chuckles, then when Will doesn't say anything and just grins as he pops another berry into his mouth, he looks back and forth between us desperately. "Fuck off... No, actually, fuck off. You're joking."

Will just breathes a laugh and reaches into his wallet for a copy of the latest sonogram, softly saying, "No mate. You're actually unc for real now."

And then they're hugging and James runs behind the camera to hug you too. You show him your bump and he freaks out even more, as if it finally hits him. Then, after the shoot, when you ask him to be godfather, he breaks down completely.

Will can't believe his luck.

He loves seeing you pregnant. He already doted on you but there's something about seeing you carrying his child that has him on his knees for you. He'll tease you as you get bigger, jumping up when you sit down on the sofa, only when he knows it will make you laugh. But he can't get enough of you. When a heatwave strikes and he sees you walk into the kitchen in a bikini top and linen trousers, hot and swollen, he wishes he could get you pregnant again right now.

By the time you go into labour, Will is an expert on everything you could possibly need. Timing your contractions, he's already on it. Want your shoulders rubbing, he's researched pressure points. The drive to the hospital, he's already timed it. Three times. He's packed everything you could want. He's made a playlist of your favourite songs. He's on top of all the correspondence with your family. He thinks he's got it sussed; being the best birth partner. That is until he hears your baby cry.

It's as though the second your son is born, every ounce of self-control drains from Will. He's sobbing. Quietly of course, because you've literally just given birth and you don't need him to be a babbling mess. But he can't help it when he sees that tiny little boy get placed on your chest. He's perfect. You're perfect. This is his dream, actually coming true before his eyes.

He knew that his heart would grow when his child came into the world but he hadn't realised that his love for you would double as well. You are the most incredible woman. He's trying his best to tell you but the words are coming out watery. Fat teardrops fall from his cheekbones and his shirt is ruined from the way he keeps wiping his face. Every time he manages to pull himself together, he remembers that his baby is in the world now and you brought him here, and he's a mess again.

It warms your heart and makes you laugh in equal measure, muttering conspiratorially to your son, "Told you daddy's a huge softie."

When you ask if he wants to hold him, he nods but stares up at the ceiling as he tries to dry his eyes. He shakes out his wrists, trying to pull himself together.

"Not having my boy think I'm not the happiest man on Earth right now."

You try and explain that the baby won't hold a grudge but Will doesn't listen, too focused on meeting his child.

Then, when he takes the baby in his arms, it's like a switch is flipped and he can't stop smiling.

"Hiya mate." he whispers, tears welling but not falling as he beams down at the little bundle.

Will is an absolute goner for his little boy. Any chance for skin-to-skin and he's doing it. You can't remember the last time he wore a shirt around the house. Any chance Will can be with his boy, he will be. Even volunteering for every night shift, wanting to have these moments with the baby even though they're hard and you're both so tired.

You catch him in the middle of the night, hand dangled into the crib and lying on his little belly, whispering to his sleeping son. "Me and your mam love you so much, do you know that? Even when you're screaming your head off."

You tuck in behind him, hand wrapping around his stomach and joining in. "We really do, little fella."

It's not the only time you catch him talking to the baby. He's always chatting away to him, walking him through making coffee in the morning, going through every item he's packing up for your trip around the block, showing him his outfit and telling him, "I wore this shirt on my second date with your mam."

He's heartbroken when he has to go back to work and leave his favourite people. You two wave him off in the morning, and he replays the imagine in his head over and over. He checks the baby monitor on his phone constantly when he knows it's nap time. It's a default and he doesn't even notice that whenever there's a quiet moment, he finds himself tapping on the app.

"This is for lazy people..." You mutter, holding up the self-stirring mug and squinting your eyes to inspect how it works. Then, glancing toward the camera with a grin, you add, "perfect for Will."

"What's perfect for me?" Will's voice comes from behind the camera as he strolls back into frame, arms full of Cadbury hot chocolate powder.

"Oh nothing...just me." You tease, lips curving into a smirk.

Will rolls his eyes, setting everything down with a dramatic sigh. "Come on, you know they're gonna make edits about that now."

You can't help but laugh, mostly because you know it's true. The fans have been shipping you and Will for years even since you joined his group of friends. Every shared glance, every off camera cameo, every time your laugh is in the back of his videos... they notice. There are dramatic TikToks with screenshots of your Instagram stories and YouTube compilations titled "them being in love for 10 minutes straight !!!" and endless comments claiming for us 'to just admit it already".

If only they knew how close to the truth they really were.

He huffs a laugh, leaning over the table as he unboxes the mug. “Right, science time. It’s meant to stir itself, yeah? You just press this button—”

The mug starts whirring violently, splattering chocolate up the sides. You jump back with a yelp. “Oh my god, Will! Turn it off!”

“I am turning it off!” He insists, jabbing the button as liquid chaos swirls. “Why is it spinning like it’s possessed?”

You can’t stop laughing, doubling over as he finally manages to stop it. The hot chocolate looks tragic; foamy and uneven, but Will takes a sip anyway.

“Well?” You ask, still giggling.

He shrugs. “Tastes like regret and batteries.”

You snort. “Perfect. I’ll have two.”

He shoots you a look, but his mouth twitches into a smile before he can hide it.

The video rolls on with you try a neck-massage pillow that nearly strangles Will, a mini popcorn maker that explodes kernels across the room, and a gadget that claims to fold laundry automatically (spoiler: it doesn’t). Every failure makes you laugh harder, every sideways glance between you two more obvious.

By the time you reach the last box, you’re both crying with laughter and surrounded by cardboard carnage.

Will rips it open dramatically. “Okay, final one! A miracle cleaning gel. Says it ‘picks up dust and crumbs from hard-to-reach surfaces.’”

You lean toward the camera, whispering, “Finally, something for his room.”

He throws the packaging at you. “I’ll have you know I clean... sometimes.”

“Sure, sure...”

Ignoring you, he presses the goo into a keyboard, watching it stretch and pick up crumbs. His eyebrows lift, impressed. “Oh, hang on. This is actually kinda satisfying.”

You reach for it too, both of you poking at the sticky blob. It squelches. “This is gross,” you mutter. “Feels like alien jelly.”

“Yeah, but look!” He holds it up to the light. “It’s actually cleaning the cracks and everything. This’d be perfect for our cleaning Sundays in the apartment.”

Silence.

The sentence hangs there, soft and heavy, suspended in the quiet buzz of the camera.

Your eyes flick up. His are already wide.

“Our what?” you say, fighting back a grin.

Will freezes, still holding the slime mid-air. “No, wait, I didn’t— that’s not— I meant your apartment. Or, like, an apartment. A generic apartment. Could be anyone’s.”

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh. “Uh-huh. The apartment we don’t share at all.”

He drags a hand down his face. “Oh, I’m so finished. They’re gonna... they’re absolutely gonna clip that.”

“Oh, definitely. Title: Will Lenney Accidentally Reveals His Secret Girlfriend.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

He glances at you, cheeks pink, mouth twitching. “Shut up.”

You grin at the camera, holding up the cleaning gel like a trophy. “Ten out of ten. Perfect for your… shared household needs.”

Will groans, burying his face in his hands. “We’re never hearing the end of this.”

In the coming weeks, Will releases the video, and he calls you to the couch to come check out the comments, "hey love, come here."

i'm sorry 'our cleaning sundays'????? excuse me! GUYS GUYS GUYS!!11!!! WE KNEW IT!!! they're literally an old married couple!

Will pretends to sulk for an hour before grinning at you from across the couch. “You know, could’ve been worse. At least I didn’t say our bed.”

You smirk. “Give it time, Lenney. Give it time.”