disclaimer: i do NOT use ai in any of my works, nor do i condone using ai to completely write fics. if anything i write is bad itβs because i wrote it myself with my own hands :P
i lack a lot of motivation sometimes plus i can be busy so any requests or drafts may take a while to get to, i also post on ao3 (aura_sky) on occasion
β’ Summary: Reader and Will always butt heads which causes the downfall of her relationship with Arthur TV
β’ Pairing: Youtuber!Reader x friend!WillNE (also Reader x Arthur TV)
β’ Lots of angst and a bit of fluff, and a tiny bit of suggestive content
β’ Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, arguments, tension, relationship issues, Reader on eggshells, confusion, misunderstandings, rumours, break up, suggestive content, upset Reader, upset Arthur
β’ Word count: 8,752 words
β’ Note 1: Arthur TV is just Arthur, Arthur Hill will be 'Hill'
β’ Note 2: I tried not to make anyone a villain, I hope that comes across well
βY/n, youβre here!β Chris cheers as he pulls her into a hug. βYou alright?β
βIβm good.β She replies, and they exchange further pleasantries as he ushers her in. She peers around at the wrapping paper and Georgeβs birthday gifts strewn across the lounge area, placing her head in her hands and chuckling. βYou guys didnβt wrap anything?β
βYeahβ¦ well, we thought youβd be better at that.β Chris grins, handing her tape.
βWhen you said you wanted me here before everyone else, I assumed it was to help you decorate, not wrap.β She jokingly scolds.
He swings his head back as he laughs before making a start on the balloons. Panting after the third balloon, he takes a moment to admire her work, then it dawns on him. βYou know,β he starts hesitantly, βheβs going to be here tonight.β
βWho, George? Iβd hope so.β She quips, folding two corners of the wrapping paper over the edge of a gift and taping it.
Chris rolls his eyes. βYou know who I mean y/n.β She exhales harshly, her smirk fading. βItβs been a while now and feel like I should knowβ¦ what happened with all that?β The question sheβs been dreading for almost a month, with Chris being the bravest, or dumbest, to ask first.
βItβsβ¦ a long story. Complicated.β Y/n sighs. She and Arthur werenβt together long, but seemed content together enough for the group to call her βY/n Frederickβ whenever he talked about her. It kind of just happened, they had a mutual crush on each other, rumours spread and boom. Next thing everyone in the group knew, theyβd started dating, in private from the public of course.
"I like long, complicated stories." Chris smirks, holding eye contact with her before starting on a new balloon. She also takes a deep breath and then starts explaining.
ββββββββββ
The catalyst:
There were talks of βy/n x Arthurβ, ships and a couple of edits, but the biggest issue in their relationship started with the shippers of y/n and WillNE.
She had featured on a couple of A Bit More WillNE videos, theyβd been on a Platform Roulette together and a couple of Pub Golfs, where theyβd teased each other relentlessly. The audience was divided, with half assuming they hated each other and the other half assuming they were sleeping together. This bothered Arthur a lot.
βI wish more people thought you and I were a thing.β Heβd mumbled here and there.
βSome do. But it works out better for us that people donβt assume, all the while we havenβt launched our relationship anyway.β Y/n would always explain, in one way or another. It would always suffice, just enough.
The thing was, y/n and Will were actually not flirting, they genuinely were just trying to annoy each other. In fact, sometimes it wasnβt even just fun and games, sometimes they actually were butting heads. Either way, it entertained the group, and the viewers even more so.
βββββββββββββ
The first mention:
At yet another Pub Golf, Willβs team won - with him, George, and Arthur Hill. On the losing team were Arthur, y/n, and Chris, and god were they made to really feel like losers. The typical chants and roasts were shouted, after a video full of light hearted fight talk.
Y/n and Will had exchanged a lot of it, having been head to head on a few challenges. Arthur had watched but remained stoic, for the cameras. It built and boiled over after filming had wrapped up. Y/n was stood behind Will in a queue for the bar, trying to see past him to look at what other drinks the pub served, aside from Chris's round of beers.
βCan you duck or something Will? I canβt see past your fat head!β She shouted, Arthurβs attention snapping her way upon hearing her say Willβs name.
He turned and smirked down at her. βIβd move, but your fat arse is in the way.β He was kidding, even y/n knew that, but it rubbed Arthur the wrong way.
βWhat the hell? Mate...β Arthur stated point blank, though it sounded like velvet in his voice, showing his disgust while also trying to stay calm and friendly.
Will immediately held his hand up. βYouβre right, too far.β His head was bowed and his eyes closed, he seemed truthful in his apology. βSorry y/n.β
βItβs OK guys honestly, just a little post competition smack-talk.β She chuckled awkwardly, looking between the two boys.
βFine, fair enough.β Arthur accepted, seemingly. The exchange was so minuscule that the others didnβt even notice it, but after that, Arthur was quieter than usual. Everyone assumed heβd hit that point of drinking where he disassociated, even y/n.
It wasnβt until everyone had said their good byes and headed their separate ways, with y/n and Arthur walking hand in hand back to her place.
βSoβ¦β Arthur began hesitantly, βYou and Will.β
Y/n waited, expecting Arthur to finish his sentence.
βY/n?β He questioned.
βWhatβ carry on.β She giggled, not catching on.
βCarry on what?β He repeated, also confused.
βWith what you were saying, I mean.β
βIβm waiting for you to explain, likeβ¦ should I be worried?β He reiterated, but she still didnβt get it.
βI donβt think so, I think he was just reusing my insult.β She shrugged, genuinely thinking that was the issue.
βI meant the flirting.β He reiterated, firmer.
βOh, well, there wasn't any flirting.β She replied, reflecting his tone.
The thin line between teasing each other and flirting was debated further, ending up with them agreeing to disagree and eventually chalking it up to a tipsy misunderstanding.
ββββββββ
Strike one:
The second time Arthur was truly bothered by the 'flirting' was when she appeared in Willβs second channel again, alongside James this time.
That first incident at the pub, heβd convinced himself that he was being too protective due to the alcohol, whereas this time he was sober. This time, it hit him harder.
He promised himself heβd watch the video as soon as it came out, just to check how things were between the pair and hopefully find nothing to worry about. Due to a pod recording however, he missed the exact moment the video went live and instead saw tweets and mentions of y/n and Will first. At his flat alone with his thoughts, he made himself a cuppa and prepared himself for the worst. He found the video to be OK in the end, nothing out of the ordinary, a couple of digs between the pair, but no different to what Will and James do to each other.
But then he read the comments, or more specifically, the time stamps. Moments where Will looked at y/n, moments where she glanced at him, moments where James looked between the two and acted like a third wheel. Arthur couldnβt stop himself, taking to TikTok and searching for edits of y/n and Will. He was truly torturing himself until he scrolled away from the relevance. Wound up, he snatched his phone from the coffee table and text y/n, asking if she was free to hang out.
They met later that day for a walk and a coffee. βLook, I want to just say it: Iβm not comfortable with you and Will being this close.β He blurted out in one.
βWe're not that closeβ is that why youβve been quiet today?β Y/n asked immediately, followed by: βWhat have I done wrong?β Her voice was heavy, full of innocence and concern.
βEveryone outside of our group thinks youβre together.β Arthur moaned, his brows furrowed in frustration. βItβs not nice to see.β
βSo many people think you and Flo are together, but Iβve never complained. Rumours happen.β She hit back, keeping her voice down. Arthur rolled his eyes, he hates being shipped with others. βAnd besides, Will and James are still the biggest shipping victims of all.β
βI feel like you play into it, with you and Will though.β Arthur murmured, drumming his fingers on his coffee cup to self soothe.
She was shocked. βWhat?β
βWell youβre either doing it deliberately or itβs accidental, which is even worse.β
βOr neither.β Y/n mumbled. Another instance of agreeing to disagree, except y/n said sheβd take a step back from collaborations with Will.
She also personally thought the shipping and edits with him were too much. Sheβd come up with excuses every time Will invited her to work together, even if it wasnβt just her, mostly pretending to be busy.
ββββββββ
Strike two:
Jamesβs performance in Brighton was a popular meeting choice for the group, or for those who were free to attend anyway. Y/n for one was excited, both from being proud of her friend and enjoying his music. She had spent a lot of time attending and supporting Arthur Hill on his tour, so she figured it was time to do the same for James.
Arthur wasnβt feeling up for it, for no particular reason other than being a little tired, so y/n agreed sheβd go with some of the others. She went with George, Chris, and Will. The show was a hit, everything was fine. The only potential problem was Arthur not asking who was attending, mostly because he didn't want to know if Will would be there, but y/n also didnβt feel the need to tell him either. By this point, a couple weeks had passed and the shipping died down a little, so she figured Arthur's concerns were buried with it.
It was the hours after that gig which wound Arthur up. He didnβt even bother asking y/n to meet this time, just sent her over a video he saw on TikTok in a text message and asked:
Arthur: whatβs this about y/n?
The video itself was taken by a UKYT fan and uploaded to TikTok, filmed during βItβs Only Loveβ, arguably one of Jamesβs most romantic songs. It depicted only y/n and Will side by side swaying, with Willβs arm around her and hand on her shoulder. The caption read: βWill and y/n embracing at a James Marriottβs concertβ. Y/n could see why it looked bad, but she could also explain the situation just as easily. As she typed her reply, Arthur sent another text through:
Arthur: did you just go with Will?
A text conversation wouldnβt suffice so she called him instead. βI went with George and Chris too." She explained, "I think during that song was when Chris went to the toilet and George went to get us drinks.β Arthur seemingly understood enough.
βOK, that makes sense.β He replied, followed by silence. βBut why were you βembracingβ?β She could tell by his voice that he was air quoting.
βI started crying during this song, Iβm not even sure why. It just made me emotional. We were already swaying but when he saw me crying he comforted me.β She went onto relay that he had his arm around her for about 10 seconds before laughing and calling her a βsappy gitβ, to which she laughed too and enjoyed the rest of the show.
βFair enough.β More dead air after that, followed by a sigh. βI donβt want to be a dick here but you need to understand how disrespected I felt, seeing that.β
βArthurβ¦β
βI know it was out of your control, this time, but with everything elseβ¦β he trailed off, βitβs just piling up on me.β
Ouch, this time.
βββββββββββ
The final straw:
A party at the boysβ flat, not for anyoneβs birthday but just for fun, ended up full of YouTubers and podcasters alike from the UK circle. Y/n and Arthur turned up earlier than most others, so they helped set up a last-minute peer pong table.
George was arranging and rearranging the drinks on the kitchen counter, Chris was deciding on a playlist, and Hill was crashed out on the sofa for some unknown reason. βSo, who else is coming?β Y/n asked, lining up the cups.
Chris listed off people one by one, Arthurβs ears pricking up when Will was mentioned. Y/n nodded, excited to see some of the girls.
One by one, creators filed in, soon filling up the living space. Isaac, George, and Arthur started a game of peer pong in the kitchen area, while y/n chatted with Liv, Yas, and Becky. Suddenly, Will bounded over.
βOi y/n, got any more aβ these?β He held up his empty can, one of her favourite drinks. Becky half-jokingly glared at him for interrupting their conversation.
βI donβt know, I donβt live here.β Y/n quipped with a giggle.
βYeah, but youβre always hogginβ βem.β He smirked.
βRude!β Becky shouted, her mouth hung open in fake shock, Liv shook her head with a knowing smile, Yas was watching gleefully for the drama.
She could feel Arthurβs eyes on them from across the room, so she figured shutting Will down was the best option. βNo, I donβt know, sorry.β Y/n stated firmer.
βI need a piss, find one for me?β He asked, trying to pass her his can.
Y/n huffed, half jokingly. βGet it yourself you lazy bastard!β She got up and walked past him, deciding to watch the beer pong. She didnβt bother looking back to the girls giggling at her choice of words, or Will standing there slack jawed.
βYou OK?β Arthur checked as she put her arm around him. She nodded, proceeding to watch George make a successful bounce.
Y/n later found herself back in the βgirly cornerβ, with Eleanor and Becky this time, all sat at the sofa by the window. Will approached them, carefully this time, as if he was dealing with a wild animal. βY/n, a word?β He asked quietly.
βUhβ¦β y/n peered over to see Arthur busy in another round of beer pong, with Chip and Chris this time, βSure.β
He led her to the hallway, outside the flat. βWhatβs up?β She peaked over his shoulder at Arthur once more, who was still preoccupied.
βDβyou have a problem with me or something?β Will tried saying it nicely, but the booze and confusion meddled with his tone.
She sighed. βWhat?β
βYouβve been blowinβ off hanginβ out, said youβre too busy for another collab when you werenβt, and tonight youβve been a moody cow towards me.β
Not sure what to say, she looked down and her feet and just shrugged.
βSo, explain.β He folded his arms and leant against the doorway, staring down at her. ββCause I donβt like beinβ disrespected for no good reason.β
She was not sober enough to handle the way he was talking. βDonβt talk to me like that, Iβm not a child.β
βWell ya certainly act like one.β
Meanwhile in the kitchen area, the lads were talking about relationships. Chris told a story about a girl heβd been seeing who he had to call quits on because she was too argumentative.
βDonβt forget, arguing is a sign of passion and care my man.β Chip recited something he read somewhere as he squared up his throw. Chris nodded.
βHmβ¦β Arthur hummed, thinking out loud.
βYou alright?β Chip asked, right after missing all the cups.
βYeah, just thatβ¦ y/n and I never really proper argue.β Just as he spoke, James leant past him to take another non-alcoholic beer from the fridge. Not knowing the full context, he threw his two pence in.
βReally? Will and y/n argue all the time.β He chimed in nonchalantly. Arthur opened his mouth to say something but was at a loss, before James continued. βTheyβre doing it right now.β He stepped out the way to show the lads that sure enough, y/n and Will were in the midst of a heated discussion.
βI donβt owe you a good attitude you know.β Y/n spat, gesturing towards him with a wavered hand almost in disgust.
βBeinβ respectful usually comes naturally to good people.β He bit back, with venom in his eyes.
βOh, good one.β She clapped sarcastically. βSo Iβm a bad person because I donβt treat you like a king.β
Will rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair.
βDo you even hear yourself?β She added.
βSays you your highness, actinβ like you can only be polite to people who βdeserveβ it.β He leant closer to her, basically air quoting in her face. She instinctively swatted his hand away. βWoah, the fuck?β He scoffed, stepping away in shock.
Seeing the hand slap, Arthur rushed over, trying to not draw attention to the confrontation. Luckily the music had drowned out their shouting, other party goers either didnβt see or just left them to it. He stood in the doorway with his arms folded. βWhatβs going on?β He asked, naturally leaning a little in front of y/n.
Will raised his hands in surrender. βItβs alright mate, your girlfriendβs just in a mood.β
Y/n shook her head as Arthur huffed through his nose. βReally? βCause from the kitchen, it looked like you both were arguing.β He pressed.
βNah. Just y/n beinβ y/n.β Will shrugged, trying to casually charm his way out of another clash.
βActually itβs Will being a dick!β Y/n reubutted.
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. βActually, itβs both of you. Constantly. And Iβm fucking tired of it.β Without hesitation, he reached behind the door for his coat and stormed past the two.
Y/n was in total shock, watching as Arthur disappeared to the stairwell. Will stepped up next to y/n.
βYouβ¦ OK?β He asked gently. She ignored him and tried calling Arthur, after a couple of rings he answered.
βArthur, where are youββ
βY/n?β Chrisβs voice was on the other end. βEverything alright?β
Realising heβd left his phone in the kitchen, she sighed in defeat. βY-yeahβ¦β She hung up without saying anything else and tucked herself further down the corridor, out of view from everyone inside so she could think. Without warning, she then started crying.
βOh, y/nβ¦β Will cooed before immediately going into panic mode. βShit, y/n Iβm sorry.β He placed his hand on her shoulder and rubbed it with his thumb, not knowing how else to calm her down. She let him and sobbed harder, still covered by the music in the flat. This crying was different to the one at Jamesβs gig, it couldnβt be blamed on any song.
βIββ Her breath hitched harshly, βI think Iβve fucked this.β She mumbled into her hands.
βWhat? No, no surely not.β He soothed her softly. He peeped back inside and saw that no one else aware of her upset state. βRight, stay here. Iβll be back in a sec.β He popped back into the flat, pulling the door nearly shut behind him. She began typing a message to Arthur, only to remember again that it would be no use, and stressfully shoved her phone back in her pocket.
Will emerged with his jacket and phone in hand, and handed over her phone and keys. βCome on, no one deserves to be stood outside a party cryinβ.β He ushered with his head for her to follow him down the hallway. She wiped her eyes and walked behind him, confused.
The cold fresh air hit her hard, her tears freezing against her cheeks. βWhatβre we doing?β She asked, her attitude from before completely washed away.
βWhatever you want. Iβll get us an uber if itβs far.β He replied steadily, his anger was also swept away. She hadnβt brought a jacket, so he handed her his.
βIβ¦ donβt know.β She took his jacket for a moment then tried giving it back. βIβm OK, thanks.β
βDonβt be stupid, put it on. Itβs freezinβ.β He gently pushed her hand towards her. She put on the damn jacket, which admittedly warmed her up immediately. Will shoved one hand in his pocket and scrolled on his phone with the other, slightly shivering in just a black T-shirt and joggers. βSo, where to?β His breath visible from the cold as he asked.
She paused, then exhaled shakily as she calmed down. βHome. Please.β Will nodded, ordering them both an uber to her place.
The ride back to her flat was dead silent, aside from the occasional sniffle and her phone vibrating from the others checking up on her. She scrolled through her notifications and sighed, seemingly overwhelmed. βDonβt worry about all that, Iβll let them all know later.β Will whispered. βIβll make sure youβre in and head back, I wonβt say you fought with Arthur."
She shot him a smile, the first genuine smile sheβd given him in ages that wasn't a smirk of some kind. In fact, she realised in that moment it may be the first genuine smile she had worn in a while. He gave her an equally real one back. βLovely.β He spoke quietly to himself, but she heard.
As the uber pulled up outside her building, she tried awkwardly removing his jacket. He placed his hand on her forearm. βTell ya what, wear it to your door and give it back to me then.β She nodded, getting out as Will asked the driver to wait a few minutes for him, passing him a tenner from his pocket as a generous tip.
He walked behind her to the entrance, his jagged breath audible from behind her as she let them both in. She didnβt really think, just continued to her door in silence. She walked into her dark flat as he followed, waiting for her to give him his jacket back but she began sobbing again, the safety of her home causing her emotions to flow. Sheβd half expected Arthur to be there waiting to talk, as he had a spare key. βAw y/n, no.β Will sighed.
She shakily removed his jacket and handed it over. βThank youβ¦ and Iβm sorry.β
βDonβt be daft.β He chuckled quietly, slinging the jacket over his arm before he grabbed a glass and filled it with water for her. βY/n, never apologise for having feelings.β
βItβs not just that, Iβm sorry for being grumpy towards youβ¦ and for being distant.β
βOh.β
βI was just trying to save my relationship.β She whined, flopping on her sofa.
βWhat dβyou mean?β He asked as he passed her the water. He messaged the uber driver, telling him to leave without him as she figured out where to start.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to her at the time (but was later told by George), Arthur had returned to the party, having only left to get some fresh air and clear his head. βMate, where have you been?β Chris asked as soon as he saw him come through the door, with George stood beside him.
βJust a walk around the block.β Arthur replied, his eyes darting around the room. βWhereβs y/n?β
George double checked his phone. βWill said heβs taking her back home, he should be back any moment.β
βWhat?β Arthur bellowed. βWill took my girlfriend home?β
βYeah he did, only because she was upset.β Chris interjected.
βFuck, oh fuck, noβ¦β Arthur muttered, his mind going to bad places as he scrambled around the flat for his phone.
Soon enough, y/n got the call in the middle of explaining everything to Will. βIs that him now?β He asked, pointing at her vibrating phone, in annoyance at the situation.
βYeahβ¦β she uttered, staring at her screen with anxiety. βIβm not sure I want to answer it.β
βPass it here.β Will mumbled as he took it from beside her on the sofa, answering and putting it on speaker. βArthur?β
βY/nβ Will?β They heard his desperate voice on the phone.
βSheβs alright mate, just got her in the flat and Iβm coming baββ
βFantastic.β Arthur snapped, hanging up.
Y/n leant against the back of her sofa. βNow itβs really messed up.β She groaned, her voice breaking. Will ran his hand down his face. She sighed and stood up. βThanks for getting me home. Please, go back to the party.β
βI canβt leave you like this.β He insisted.
βIβm just gonna drink my water then sleep, Iβm shattered.β She replied. She did look very tired.
βFine, but let me know if ya need anything, OK? Anything.β
βI will.β
Heβd text her about 15 minutes later to say that Arthur had gone home, she replied a thank you so he knew she was doing alright. A few minutes later, Arthur messaged her too.
Arthur: Iβm home, hope youβre ok
Arthur: Iβll come by tomorrow morning
Y/n: OK
ββββββββββ
The next morning:
It was far too early, but she couldnβt sleep. Her anxiety drove her insane. Sheβd already awoken to separate texts from George, Liv, Becky, even Will - all asking if she was OK. She spent the first few minute of the day confirming she was fine with the same copy and pasted replies. Arthur knocked, instead of letting himself in. That was a bad sign.
Once he was settled on her sofa, he asked her what exactly happened the night before, and she explained the argument and Will taking her back to hers because she was crying. Arthur listened patiently, nodding here and there and holding his hand to his chin as he took it all in.
Once she was done, Arthur stared ahead and hummed pensively. βRight, that makes sense.β He muttered.
βAnd he only came in to get me a glass of water, but when I started crying again, I had no choice but to explain everything to him.β She added.
βNo choice?β He sighed, looking at her with defeated eyes. βY/n, you had lots of choices, you just made these ones. Ones that involved inviting Will back to your flat.β
βYou say it like I invited him back toβ¦ do something awful. He only came to the building because I had his jacket, because it was cold andββ
βSo youβre wearing his jacket now too?β Arthur interrupted, putting his head in his hands.
βBecause it was cold.β
βY/n, you donβt do that. You donβt let the guy who threatens our relationship treat you like a boyfriend would.β He complained, muffled against his palms.
βHeβ¦ Iβ¦β she was lost for words, thinking about how Will treated her last night compared to how sheβd been feeling for a while. βNo. You know what? I didnβt let Will do anything, he just did it. He saw I was upset and instead of pissing off to god knows where, he took me home and made sure I had water.β
Arthur stayed still and silent, his hands still glued to his face.
βIf anything, itβs you who wasnβt treating me the way a boyfriend should.β She stopped herself before she got too irate.
The room became so quiet that traffic could be heard through the closed windows. βArthur, please. Please donβt let this Will stuff ruin what we have.β
It was like he didnβt hear her. βIβm so sick of hearing his name. Sick of dreading the next time he shows up. Or the next time I see an edit or theory of you two come up in my phoneβ¦β
βEdits? You know itβs your algorithmββ
βSo fucking sick and tired of it.β He repeated with a tight jaw. He did look tired.
βAnd Iβm sick of never being heard. Ofβ¦ walking on eggshells around you.β She sighed, too mentally exhausted to cry.
More silence.
βYou know,β Arthur sat up, wiping his nose and staring at the ground, βI came over here expecting an apology from you.β
She scoffed as he bitterly laughed at himself quietly.
βStupid isnβt it? You were upset and I wanted an apology.β He shook his head.
βArthurβ¦β
βIβm clearly not cut out to have a mature relationship right now, especially the kind you need.β He looked up at her, his eyes glistening as a lump formed in her throat.
βArthur?β
βI think we should break up.β
βββββββββββ
The aftermath:
She placed the last of Arthurβs things in her bag, double checked herself in the mirror to make sure she looked human, and headed out the door. Surprisingly, she was doing OK. It had only been 4 days since they broke up and already her mind felt less clouded.
After spending the last few days sulking and crying on the sofa, she realised a lot of her best memories with Arthur were very platonic coded. Maybe he was right, in time they could be back to friends.
As she entered the cafe, he immediately stood up, accidentally shoving the table with his thighs. Clearly he was nervous too. Itβs the dreaded swap. βHey.β He smiled sheepishly, unsure of the best way to greet her.
βHey.β
For the first time in a long time, they were both able to look at each other without expecting some kind of passive aggression. He ordered them coffee, they split the bill upon her insistence. And in between, they talked.
He told her that right after the break up, he realised that Chipβs words were right, their lack of an arguments came from a lack of true passion. All of Arthurβs energy had gone onto his jealousy towards Will, at how Will knew exactly what buttons to push to get y/nβs attention. That clearly he wasnβt ready for a relationship until he worked on his own insecurities and then, and only then, would he find the right person.
It all made sense to y/n. After wallowing in heart break, she too realised she wasnβt getting what she truly needed from the relationship. She desired some form of flame. She also needed the attentiveness, that Arthur couldnβt provide while he dealt with his own emotional demons, and she didn't figure it out until she thought about how Will took care of her that night.
They mutually agreed that before their tension began, their relationship was short and sweet. While they had crushes on each other, they certainly werenβt in love with one another. And even y/n agreed that the Will issue may have stunted that chance.
βI definitely think we can be friends, we just need the break up to run its course first.β He stated, with a genuine smile. "And with that, we'll need a bit of space."
βAgreed.β It was the first time in along time sheβd said that without βto disagreeβ added. βWe shouldnβt rush our friendship, we know rushing doesnβt work.β She giggled, he chuckled along too.
They stood up and hugged before handing each other their stuff. βAnd by the way, if you do decide to date Will, Iβm OK with that.β He added as they headed to the door.
βArthur, I donβtββ
βI know you donβt need me to be OK with anything anymore, but Iβm saying as your future friend that Iβd support it.β That wasn't what she was about to say at all.
That kind of acceptance was what she always wanted, and it came a little too late. Still, it was better late than never. They walked together down the pavement before they needed to head their separate ways to their flats, but they agreed that once they were proper friends again that theyβd be the otherβs wingman.
ββββββββββββ
A few days later:
If she was honest with herself, Will was a grey area. She saw him as a pain in the ass and the reason she and Arthur didnβt work out. But she also viewed him as unbothered and caring, when he wanted to be, AKA the right kind of guy for her. In a scenario where she would discuss Will, for example with Liv or Flo or the other girls, she would probably say that she wanted a guy βlike Willβ in the future.
Heβd been so attentive since the break up too, since he took her back to her flat really. He was the first person to text her after Arthur walked out her door that morning. He was the first person she told before messaging the girls, and Chris, Hill and George. She thought about how every day Will asked her how she was doing until around day six, when she had playfully told him she wasnβt made of glass and didnβt need daily check ins. Since then, he made a point of specifically checking up on her every other day, almost out of spite.
Even when they went out for random drinks with Arthur Hill, Stephen, Chris, and Becky. Hill asked if she was getting back in the game, she rolled her eyes at his weird old man way of saying it, following up with βWay too soon.β
Chris chimed in, not drunk enough to have a filter. βNo way are you still hung up on that strange man.β
The others were a mix of shocked and amused. βChris!β Y/n and Becky bellowed at the same time, to which Chris just shrugged sassily.
βGive it a rest mate.β Will smirked, βYouβre one to talk with how much you went on about your break up.β He punctuated the clapback with a light tap on y/nβs back before smugly taking a sip of his drink. The look on Chrisβs face was priceless.
βWhat I was gonna say,β y/n paused to glare at Chris, βwas that Iβd never want someone to feel like a rebound.β The group all nodded, even Chris, before she continued. βI feel like a monthβs a good time to consider exploring something new, as the relationship with Arthur itself was short.β
ββββββββββββββββ
A few more days after:
She decided to book herself a small holiday, on her own, a little trip to Italy to spoil herself. And she did just that, making posts on her socials and even vlogging it for YouTube.
The flattery and flanter from the UKYT girls in her comment sections were always fun. Even Arthur sent her a couple of Instagram DMs, replying to stories with random facts he knew about certain monuments and areas, which was nice. No flirting or passive aggression, just trivia. Just Arthur, being a friend.
Mostly, however, she got post likes and story replies from Will. It seemed he found any excuse to write something. It was always platonic, always respectful, and always private (because of the fans) but it was always him. And he was 10 times more interactive than he was even before she was with Arthur.
ββββββββββ
Back at home:
She realised that every time a notification from Will came up, that butterfly feeling would appear. She had a similar feeling with Arthur before they become a couple, which was confusing for her. But it was nice to hear from him, when he wasnβt rebutting something sheβd said or, more recently, making sure she wasnβt upset.
He was present before, interacting with her posts, but now it hit different.
Y/n and Arthur were back to friends by this point too. Arthur even told her he started therapy to work on things, not for her but for him, and she was so glad to hear it. He even said he considered downloading dating apps soon and as weird as it was hearing it, she was fine with it.
In fact, people around her started side-eying her more when Will was mentioned rather than Arthur. There was an elephant in the room, everyone could tell they were getting closer but no one had the balls to address it, until now.
ββββββββββββββ
βAnd thatβs it really.β
With the last present fully wrapped, she places it on the coffee table with the others. During her tale, she had wrapped all the presents, while Chris had blown up one more balloon.
βSo long story shortβ¦ you donβt mind Will coming?β Chris confirms.
βNot at all.β And with that, the doorbell rings. Chris rushes to answer and itβs Hill, juggling bags of fresh snacks for the party. They both help him carry them to the kitchen area.
As food is getting prepared, more people arrive. Chip and Sabina turn up next, theyβre greeted and asked to help with more balloons and banners as they wait for the others. Then Arthur turns up with Isaac and Liv. Itβs the first time y/n sees him since they exchanged their stuff. They all greet each other one by one.
βHey, you look nice.β Y/n grins as she and Arthur share a quick hug.
βHey n/n, so do you.β He smiles back, and thatβs that. No tension, no awkwardness, and no worried stares from the others in the room.
Will and James then turn up. Both circle around the room greeting everyone, including Arthur, before Will saves y/n for last. βCβmβere you.β He pulls her in for a hug, getting engulfed in her perfume. It lingers for just a moment before he lets go. βWhenβs the birthday boy arrivinβ?β He asks.
βI got a text from Yas, theyβll be about five minutes.β Arthur replies. They set their coats and bags down and all get into a hiding position and wait. Soon enough, the pair arrive and George gets the jump scare of a lifetime, but soon expresses how grateful he is, looking bashful as ever.
The party is a success; more beer pong, a dart board, even Mario Kart races. Y/n sits with the girls once again, where she talks more about her time in Italy before they get the gossip about the break up andβ¦
βY/n, sorry to interrupt.β Will starts, it all feeling a little too familiar. βCan I borrow you a sec?β
She feels the girlsβ eyes all burning into her. βY-yeah.β She pushes herself off the sofa, noticing heβs holding a can of her favourite drink. As she walks away with him, she points at it. βI think the boys just keep them in the fridge by the way.β She explains, assuming heβs holding an empty can again.
βAh, this is for you actually.β He clicks it open and passes it to her as they wind up outside in the hallway.
βIβm getting deja vu here.β She giggles sheepishly, her voice fading as she closes the door and shuts the noise away. He grins at her, his eyes crinkling as she adds: βYouβre not going to tell me off again are you?β
He chuckles lowly. βNah, just wanted to see how you are.β His grey eyes peer down at her, a different look in them to what she's used to.
βWill, you promised me youβd stop checking in.β She takes a swig.
βI did, but Iβm just askinβ in general.β He shrugs, βI know youβre proper alright, youβve got a strong head on ya shoulders.β
She feels stupid for guessing, but she can blame it on the alcohol. βOh, in that case Iβm doing great. Arthur and I are even friends again.β
βGood, thatβs really good.β His voice is so deep when he talks calmly and quietly, itβs so new to her. βI knew youβd both be fine. Heβs a good guy and youβreβ¦ you.β
Now sheβs intrigued. βIβm me?β She asks, taking another sip.
βYeah, you know...β He plays with the back of his mullet, looking around while his brain scrambles for something, but heβs also quite tipsy.
βNo, I donβt know.β She smirks, secretly enjoying his internal battle.
βYouβreβ¦ actually one of the kindest people Iβve ever met. Iβm embarrassed I never saw it before.β He starts, picking at his nails. βHow can anyone not want to be around ya?β
Her face starts to burn from his kind words and she swears heβs leaning closer, but theyβre interrupted by Hill. βGuys? Weβre about to sing happy birthday to George.β He disappears from behind the door. Y/n and Will look at each other and just laugh before heading inside.
Chris counts them down as they sing the embarrassing song, with George pulling a dopey smile as he turns pink. During the song, y/n locks eyes with Arthur while he looks at her and Will and gives her a small nod. Towards the end of the singing, she feels Willβs hand tentatively move to her side and rest on her waist.
At every βhoorayβ after βhip-hipβ, he gives her a little squeeze, giggling as she flinches from the tickling sensation. This is the first time the pair are actually flirting, at least on purpose.
βIβm going to the toilet, but Iβm not done with you.β Will grins down at her as everyone disperses. His deep voice vibrates through her as she watches him walk away in awe. She heads for the kitchen to grab another one of her drinks, her hand bumping Arthurβs as they both reach in.
βOop!β She utters.
βOhβ sorry!β He chuckles awkwardly.
βItβs OK.β She smiles at him, immediately handing him his favourite cider. He lets out a mix of a gasp and an βawwβ, surprised she remembers.
βSoβ¦ you and Will huh?β He teased, elbowing her as they step away from the fridge.
βArth, we donβt have to do thisββ
βNo, really. Iβm ha-ppy for you!β His face drops and voice cracks as he insists. βGenuinely.β
βWell.. thanks Arthur.β She chirps.
βActually, seeing you both today made me realise you never were flirting with him, you know, when you and I were togetherβ¦β He peers down at his drink guiltily, βSo, Iβm really sorry.β
She pulls him into a hug. βItβs OK Arthur.β Only Arthur Frederick can genuinely want whatβs best for someone, even his freshly new ex.
βUh, am I interruptinβ?β Will asks hesitantly as he grabs himself another drink.
Arthur immediately steps away from y/n. βNo, not at all.β He passes Will the bottle opener and excuses himself.
βYou two OK?β He checks, reading y/nβs body language and not being able to interpret it.
She nods but canβt help but internally grimace, a pang of anxiety hitting her hard. She fears the questions and light accusations she knew of from before, but they donβt come.
βAh, good.β He drapes his arm over her shoulder, ironically causing a weight to lift off it. βWanna play some Mario Kart?β Is that it? Not even a sulk?
It seems somewhere between the first and third race, y/n finally comes to the realisation that she maybe, just a tiny bit, has a crush on Will. Itβs the occasional grunt he does as he concentrates that makes her heart thud; or the βfuck, youβre good y/nβ when she screws someone over with a power-up that makes her blush.
But itβs when he beats her and his eyes crinkle as he grins across at her. βWhaaay, unlucky!β He jabs, poking her sides to wind her up. She wants to wipe the smirk off his face, or maybe kiss it.
Little did she know, Will was also distracted. Heβd occasionally glance at her section of the screen to see if sheβd use a move on someone or take a shortcut, knowing if she did that sheβd don a cheeky grin. He secretly adored her giggle whenever he, Chris, or Isaac groaned in frustration. He risked losing to either of the three just to catch these little moments, though heβd never admit it.
After spending the rest of the party mingling with others, playing some beer pong herself, and dancing with the girls, it was time to head back. She wishes George a happy birthday again and hugs him and Yas good bye, before starting the hunt for her phone. She weaves between other party goers, half searching and half saying her good byes, before she sighs.
βLookinβ for this?β Will teases, leaning against the wall by the bathroom door, holding her phone between his long finger and thumb.
βWill,β she cocks her head at him in that βoh youβ fashion, βwhy do you have my phone?β
βI was worried youβd forget to say bye to me.β He chuckles.
βReally? I thought you were getting me an uber homeβ¦ again.β She smirks as she watches the cogs turn, before he realises and starts fumbling through his phone to order.
Will beams ear to ear as y/n talks the uber driverβs ear off, occasionally sharing glances with him through the rear view mirror. Sheβs had one too many again, except this time hers spiritβs high. Usually this behaviour embarrasses him, warranting awkward apologies to the driver, but not this time. The driver looks a little annoyed, though he remains professional, and Will wouldnβt let anyone dim y/nβs shine anyway.
Heβs not sure what to expect when they get to her place, so he thanks the driver and lets him drive away. He opens the door to her flat for her and allows her to step inside first. She sloppily kicks off her shoes and drops her bag and jacket on the floor, causing him to chuckle as he picks up after her. βMake yourself at home Will.β She mumbles contently as she heads to her kitchen area.
βHang on, I think youββ
βDonβt worry, Iβm already on it.β She grins. She never ceases to amaze him as she watches her poor them both glasses of water. He realises she may be a little less drunk than he had assumed, before punctuating his thoughts with an obnoxious hiccup. Maybe heβs more drunk than he assumed.
βCheers, love.β He smiles as she hands him the water. She plonks down beside him on the sofa, spilling a little on her hand. Unable to stop herself from giggling, she wipes it dry on her cushion.
βSo,β he starts, licking his lips and placing his glass on the coffee table, βwhat was it really like seeing Arthur today?β He leans back, draping his arm along the back of the sofa as he turns his body to face her more.
βWeird.β She pauses as she takes a moment to consider the whole picture. βLike, I half expected to feel depressed or something when I saw him.β
βThatβs understandable.β Will nods, really taking in not just her words, but her tone and body language too. He absentmindedly plays with the strands of her hair where his rested hand can reach.
βYeah, but it was actually nice to see him. In a totally platonic way.β She takes a sip of her water as Will nods some more. βItβs like I never dated him, that we were always just friends.β
βThatβs nice.β He takes another sip. Itβs her time to nod. βHonestly half of me was heart broken for yous, βcause youβre both nice people who donβt deserve to go through that.β He continues.
βYeahβ¦β she soaks in his words, which take their time to travel to her brain. βWait, only half of you?β
He nervously downs the rest of his water before thudding the glass down on the table.
βWill?β She insists, her eyes digging into him as her smile lessons. He wets his lips again and clears his throat, adjusting himself even more to face her as he rests his ankle across his other knee.
βMm.β Is all he does, just a nonchalant grunt.
She laughs, only for a second. βWant to expand on that, Willy?β A nickname he hates.
He chuckles through his nose. βFine.β He sighs. βYouβre a pain in the arse you know.β She places her glass down, feeling the need to prepare for a deeper conversation.
βThe other half of me was kinda glad you two split up.β He confesses, his voice mostly full of softness and other part with guilt.
She hesitates to speak, allowing let him to explain, but it seems heβs waiting for her to ask. βWhy?β
He inhales so hard his shoulders rise. βSomewhere between always arguinβ with you and seeing you be so vulnerable at the last house party made me realise I care for you way more than I thought.β He watches for her reaction but sheβs just listening, really hearing him, so he carries on. βThenβ¦ I was so sure youβd lay into me thick when you split up. Like, I was expectinβ all the blame and I felt like I deserved it, but you just opened up to me. And that did something to me.β
βWillβ¦β she utters.
βYou do something to me y/n.β He clarifies, his eyes so intense, and yet not filled with any venom at all. The pair sit in silence, as they then struggle to maintain eye contact, both absorbing the information they just shared to each other.
Y/n stares at her knees, noticing their closeness to Willβs leg. βSo, what does that mean?β She asks, her gaze making its way back to his face. βFor us?β
βWell itβs been over a month since the break up, right?β He questions in return.
βYeah..?β
βThen you donβt need to wait to explore somethinβ new.β He smirks. She wonders how long heβs been waiting to say that.
βYouβre such a dick head.β She complains softly, swatting his thigh before their faces edge closer together.
βWould a dick βead do this?β He whispers, leaning in to close the gap between them, planting a gentle kiss to her lips. His hand finds its way to her cheek, his thumb tracing a sweet line just below her eye, before he pulls away.
Itβs strange. She always pictured his lips being dry and cracked, but actually they were soft and warm, like a hug to her mouth. Her eyes flutter open as she pinches her lips between her teeth, and he mirrors her. βWoahβ¦β he utters quietly. Clearly he was expecting something more mediocre than that. He was meant to be sweeping her off her feet, and his mission has failed.
She sees it truly for the first time; βLove Eyes Lenneyβ as their shippers referred to in the comments of their collabs. They both slump back on their parts of the sofa, a more comfortable silence taking over. Sheβs so content, so safe in Willβs presence that she doesnβt mind the way her eyes get heavier and heavier, until they close completely.
But when she opens them again, they struggle against the morning sun. She sits up straighter to stretch her neck, only to notice sheβs in her bedroom. She yawns out a βhuh?β as she steps out of bed, quickly realising sheβs not in her own clothes, but a baggy black T-shirt and underwear.
She drags herself to the bathroom to splash her face and decides to brush her teeth while sheβs there. As she does so, she reflects on the night before to help piece together how she wound up in her own bed. She remembers the party and coming home with Will, she remembers the conversationβ¦ the kissβ¦ wait. She finishes and rushes out.
βHmm, you put it on in the end.β A sleepy Will greets her as she shuffles to the lounge area. She finds him on her sofa, shirtless and under a blanket. His voice is groggy and his hairβs a mess, but damn it, he looks good.
βDid you put me to bed?β She asks sleepily.
βYeah,β he chuckles, βthough you were dead set on being βwide awakeβ.β He uses air quotes as she laughs along. βThe fact you donβt even remember suggests otherwise.β
A shyness washes over her as she tugs on the bottom of the tee. βAndβ¦ you got me dressed?β
βNah, I gave you me shirt so you had something more comfortable to wear after I put you on your bed,β he stretches his arms as far as they can reach and she notices heβs chewing gum, no idea where he got it from. βBut you said you didnβt need it βcause you apparently werenβt tired.β
She snorts, feeling the soft fabric with her hands. βWell, thanks Will.β
βAnd no, we didnβt shag.β He laughs, βI figured a kiss was enough explorinβ for now.β He springs to his feet and plays with the front of his hair. She throws a cushion at him as he giggles and squeals. βBut when youβre ready, let me know.β He squeezes the cushion as he bounces his eyebrows at her, before dropping it on the sofa. He slowly pads his way up to her. βI do mean it though.β Thereβs that deep, serious voice again.
βIβ¦ will do.β She struggles to look anywhere but his eyes or bare torso, peering over to the window.
He hooks his finger under her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.
βGood.β He replies, barely above a whisper. His eyes dart to her lips and back up to her wide eyes. She finds herself short of breath, as she feels his fan her face. Bringing himself closer as he leans down, before he snaps up straight again.
"But no time soon, right?" He cheekily grins at her, knowing full well he just blue balled her, as he heads to the kitchen area to make them both a hot drink.
She stares at him, dumbfounded and turned on. βWillβ¦β
A/n: This was difficult but fun to write, my angstiest angst. I hope it did well
β₯ TAGS:
@willnees
@mrslenneyott
@bambilenny
@reidnweeptv
@diorbymel
@luisntok
- Gabby xo
Masterlist β Requests β Taglist
Dividers by @omi-resources
controversial take maybe but... as a queer woman of color a lot of ukyt gives me the ick like i just have this gut feeling. and then none of them using their platform to speak out about ANY important or ongoing issue is just the cherry on top. feels very boys club yk.
ive been pretty distant from ukyt for a while but i don't actively watch a lot of them. i'm still writing but im probably taking a step back eventually all of them just feel so out of touch its insane
summary: you challenge chef will at every turn, what happens when the line between professionalism and want finally disappears? | Will x fem!reader
notes: HE'S HERE!!! finally posting the first part of after service, hope you enjoy the sneak peeks of the other guys :) who do you want next?
content: 4.2k wc, waitress!reader, some fluff, workplace tension, power imbalance, jealousy, swearing, sexual content, slight angst, unprotected sex (dont do this!!!), oral f!receiving, slight dom will
That was the rule he lived by. The one that keptΒ Side TableΒ running the way it did. Precision, discipline, control. The kitchen was his domain, and every service was a performance that demanded everything he had.Β
Which was why you were a problem.Β
He heard you before he saw you. Laughter drifted through the pass, light and deliberate, pitched just right for the table you were working. Willβs jaw tightened as he plated, fingers moving automatically as his attention flicked toward the dining room.Β
You were flirting again.Β
Not recklessly. Never sloppy. You knew exactly what you were doing - the easy smile, the lean-in, the laugh at something that wasnβt that funny.
You played the role beautifully, and guests loved you for it. Tips reflected that fact.Β
Will hated it.Β
βWill.βΒ
He didnβt look up. βWhat?βΒ
Chris leaned against the pass, arms crossed, watching the floor like it was live theatre, but still keeping an eye on the running of things. βYour waitress is at it again.βΒ
βSheβs notΒ myΒ waitress.β Will snapped, sharper than intended.Β
But Chris wasnβt wrong. That was the worst part.Β
Youβd been here six months β long enough to become part of the rhythm of the place, long enough that Will could remember exactly when it started. The first time youβd argued over a table modification. The first time youβd rolled your eyes at him and still done it his way. The first time youβd smiled like you knew something and he didnβt.Β
The cat-and-mouse game had been an accident at first. A clash of personalities. Control versus confidence. Youβd pushed back when he snapped. He doubled down when you didnβt fold. Somewhere along the line, it stopped being about the food and started being about you.Β
Will had noticed long before heβd admitted it to himself. The way you lingered at the pass. The way you always found a reason to be in the kitchen during the rush. The way you flirted just enough to make him think it was for him β and then made sure he saw you do it for everyone else, too.Β
Youβd noticed even earlier.
He knew that now. Knew it in the way you watched him when you thought he wasnβt looking. In the way you smiled when he lost his patience with you. In the way you never once stopped pushing, no matter how sharp his tone got, no matter how often he told himself you were just another waitress who liked pushing buttons.Β
This wasnβt new.Β
This was delayed.Β
Six months of glances held too long, of eyes catching at the pass and staying there half a second longer than they should. Of arguments that ended in silence, the kind that followed him for hours, replaying in his head while he chopped, stirred and plated. Of tension that lived in the space between your hands when plates were passed, close enough that he could feel your warmth, close enough that pulling away felt like losing.Β
Six months of him wanting you and refusing to say it.
Six months of you knowing and waiting.Β
So when Chris raised an eyebrow, smirked and said, βCouldβve fooled me,β Will had no defence.Β
Instead, he ignored him, focusing on the dish in front of him. The kitchen hummed around him - pans sizzling, orders being called, the constant motion that grounded him. It was easier when he kept his eyes down.Β
But then you laughed again.Β
Something in his chest twisted, hot and unpleasant. He told himself it was embarrassment. That was the word he used. Professional concern. Image. A high-end restaurant didnβt need theatrics.Β Β
You breezed through the swing doors, moments later, order pad in hand, still glowing from whatever charm youβd just deployed on an unsuspecting customer.Β
βTable twelve needs another round,β you said brightly. βBut they wanted to say the food is incredible.βΒ
Will didnβt look at you. βThey would.βΒ
You lingered anyway. You always did. Leaned against the counter like you belonged there.Β
βEverything alright, Chef?β you asked, voice innocent.Β
He glanced up then, meeting your eyes. There was a glint there - knowing, amused - like you could see straight through him.Β
βItβs embarrassing,β he said flatly.Β
Your smile didnβt falter. βWhat is?βΒ
βThe way you carry on out there,β he continued, plating with more force than necessary. βPractically whoring yourself out for a couple extra quid.βΒ
The kitchen went quiet.Β
Even the pans seemed to stop sizzling. Someone dropped a spoon. Will became acutely aware of every pair of eyes in the kitchen, of the way his words hung in the air, ugly and impossible to take back β and still, embarrassingly, true.Β
Arthur Hill let out a low βJesusβ before Arthur Frederick elbowed him hard.Β
You didnβt react the way he expected. No anger. No defensiveness. No tears. Just a slow tilt of your head, eyes never leaving his.
βYou donβt look very embarrassed.βΒ
Willβs jaw clenched. βIβm serious.βΒ
βSo am I,β you replied. βAnd last time I checked, my job is to make customers happy.βΒ
You leaned closer, lowering your voice so only he could hear.Β
βAnd anyway, you watch every time.βΒ
His hands stilled, fingers locking around the edge of the counter like if he let go, heβd reach for you instead.Β
For a moment, the kitchen faded away in his mind. All he could see was you - confident, infuriating, entirely too aware of the effect you had on him.Β
His hands were gripping the counter so hard that the edge was digging into his hands. βGet back on the floor,β he said tightly.Β
You straightened, unbothered and said sweetly, βYes, chef.β
And just like that, you were gone.
Service dragged after that.Β
Will threw himself into the work, barking orders sharper than usual, correcting things that didnβt need correcting. He hated the way his focus fractured every time you passed the doors, the way his eyes followed you despite himself.Β
He hated that Chris noticed when he was in the kitchen.
βMate,β Chris said later, quieter now. βYouβre glaring holes through the pass.β
Will wiped his hands aggressively. βSheβs unprofessional.βΒ
βSheβs good at her job,β Chris countered. βAnd youβre jealous.βΒ
Will shot him a look. βIβm not jealous.βΒ
Chris smirked. βSure.β
By the time last orders were called, Will was wound tight. You hadnβt come back into the kitchen once since your argument, and that bothered him more than he cared to admit.Β
When service finally slowed, he found you leaning against the bar, counting tips with a satisfied little smile.Β
George caught his eye and wisely disappeared.Β
Will approached, voice low. βWe need to talk.βΒ
You glanced up. βAbout what?β
βAbout earlier.βΒ
You hummed. βDidnβt seem like you wanted a discussion.β
βI didnβt,β he admitted. βI wanted you to stop.βΒ
You stood, tucking your money away. βAnd I wanted you to be honest.βΒ
He scoffed. βI was.βΒ
βNo,β you said calmly. βYou were jealous.βΒ
The words landed between you, heavy.
Will stepped closer, lowering his voice. βYou like winding me up.βΒ
βI like that you pretend you donβt like it,β you replied.
The bar was empty now. Chairs stacked. Lights dimmed. But he knew Chris and Harry were still hanging around somewhere before lock-up.Β
βCome with me,β Will said abruptly.
Your eyebrows lifted. βWhere?βΒ
βThe walk-in,β he replied. βNow.βΒ
You didnβt hesitate.Β
The door shut behind you with a solid, unmistakable click.
The sound was final. Private. The kind of noise that made Willβs spine straighten instinctively, every rule he lived by flaring like a warning in his head.Β
Cold rushed in immediately, sharp and clean, biting through his jacket. The walk-in hummed around them, shelves stacked high, metal and plastic and the faint scent of herbs and citrus. It should have grounded him.Β
It didnβt.Β
You turned to face him, eyes adjusting to the low light, and suddenly, there was nowhere else to look. No pass to hide behind. No tickets to focus on. Just you, standing too close already, like you knew exactly how little space he had left.
βYou think this is a game,β he said, and it came out rougher than he meant.Β
You tilted your head, studying him. βI think you donβt like sharing my attention.βΒ
That hit somewhere low in his chest. Ugly. Honest.
He laughed once, breathless, the sound sharp in the cold air. βYou flirt with half the restaurant.βΒ
βAnd you hate it,β you said softly.
βYes,β he snapped. Then quieter, βbecause I want it.βΒ
The words hung between you, raw and undeniable.Β
You stepped closer.Β
Not touching. Not yet.Β
Close enough that he could feel your heat against the chill, close enough that every inch of restraint he had left went tight and screaming. He didnβt move. He couldnβt trust himself to.Β
βThen stop pretending you donβt.βΒ
His hand came up before he could stop himself, fingers brushing your waist like it was instinct. His thumb flexed, barely, as if it was testing whether this was real.Β
βSay the word,β he murmured, voice low and uneven. βAnd Iβll walk away.βΒ
You didnβt say it.
Instead, you leaned in, lips brushing his ear, your breath warm against skin that was already on fire. βYouβre not very good at letting go of control, are you, chef?βΒ
His grip tightened, the shelves digging into his back behind him like he needed something solid to keep him upright.
βDonβt,β he warned, but there was no weight to it. No authority. Just want.
You pulled back just enough to look at him. βOr what?β
That was it.Β
Will kissed you like heβs been holding his breath for six months and finally let himself exhale.
Controlled at first, but it broke almost instantly, turning desperate and messy and full of everything he hadnβt let himself say. His hands found you like they had been waiting, sliding to your waist, your back, pulling you closer until the cold disappeared entirely.Β
You made a soft sound into his mouth, and he almost lost it right there.Β
When he pulled back, it was only because he had to breathe. Foreheads touching. Breath uneven. Hands still gripping you like letting go might undo everything.Β
βWe shouldnβt,β he said, the lie weak even to his own ears.Β
You smiled. βYou donβt sound convinced.β
The door rattled faintly as someone passed outside. Reality crept in, unwelcome and sharp.Β
Will closed his eyes for a second. Then he forced himself to step back.Β
βGo home,β he said hoarsely. βBefore I do something I canβt undo.βΒ
You nodded, eyes dark, lips swollen. βTomorrow night?β
His smile was dangerous now. Unrestrained.Β
βTomorrow night.β
He watched you leave, heart pounding, already knowing that next time, he wouldnβt be able to stop.Β
The next day is unbearable.
Will knows it the second you step onto the floor.
Youβre already in character β smile bright, posture open, voice pitched just right as you greet your first table. You move like youβre performing, like you know youβre being watched. Like you want him to watch.
And he does.Β
Every time you lean closer to a guest.Β
Every time you laugh and touch someoneβs arm.Β
Every time you tilt your head and play sweet and charming, entirely too aware of the effect you have.Β
Itβs worse than before.Β
Because now he knows exactly how you taste. His hands have memorised the shape of your waist, and he knows what you feel like pressed against him.Β
βWill,β Arthur Frederick says, scrubbing furiously at a pot. βYou good?βΒ
βYes,β Will snaps, sharper than intended.Β
Arthur Hill glances between Will and the pass, then toward the floor. βReally? Cause your eyes doing that twitchy thing again, and you look like youβre gonna crack your teeth with how hard youβre clenching your jaw.βΒ
Arthur looks away from his pot and stares at him like heβs crazy. βDude!?β
βWhat?β He says incredulously, like he genuinely thought he was helping.Β
Will exhales through his nose and focuses on the plates in front of him. He tells himself itβs fine. That this is exactly what he complained about before. That he practically asked for this.Β
Then you appear in the kitchen.Β
βYouβre smashing it tonight, Chef,β you say brightly, eyes flicking over him in a way that is anything but innocent. βTable six wants to personally thank you.βΒ
βThey can thank the food,β he replies.
You lean closer, lowering your voice. βThey want to thankΒ you.β
His grip tightens on the tongs.Β
You donβt wait for a response. You turn on your heel and head straight back out, hips swaying just enough that it canβt be accidental.
Chris watches you go, then looks at Will.Β
βSheβs doing that on purpose,β he says.Β
Will doesnβt deny it.
The rest of the shift becomes a test of endurance.
You flirt shamelessly. With regulars. With new guests. With people Will knows donβt stand a chance. You play it up, laugh louder, lean further, let your hand linger just a second longer than necessary when you take menus back.Β
Every time you pass the kitchen doors, you look at him.
Not too obviously. Just enough.Β
The looks sayΒ you see this?
They sayΒ you remember last night?Β
They sayΒ youβre going to pay for that comment.Β
By the time last orders are called, Will is wound so tight itβs almost painful.Β
You float into the kitchen at the end of your shift to drop off your apron, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.Β
βGood service,β you say airily. βYou seemedβ¦ distracted.β
He glares at you. βYouβre enjoying this.βΒ
You smile. Slow. Satisfied. βMaybe.βΒ
βGet changed,β he says, voice low. βGo home.β
You step closer instead. βLast I checked, youβre not my boss. I report to Chris, not you.β
The kitchen and restaurant begin to empty. George heads out first. The Arthurs trail behind, arguing about something stupid and trivial as they go. Chris follows not long after, calling a casual goodnight.Β
Harry leaves the keys on his way out, trusting Will to finish closing.Β
The restaurant exhales.
The last of the noise drains away β the hum of voices, the scrape of chairs, the clatter of glass β leaving behind a silence that feels heavy and charged. Will stands still, very aware of you in his space.Β
Just the two of you.Β Β
βYou pushed all night,β he says quietly, finally turning to face you.
You untie your apron, unhurried, folding it with deliberate care. βYou told me to stop before. You didnβt today.βΒ
βThatβs becauseβ, he says, stepping closer, βI was trying not to drag you into the walk-in halfway through service.β
Your eyes darken. βTrying?β
The words feel like a challenge.
Heβs right in front of you now β close enough to see the faint flush on your cheeks, close enough that your perfume cuts through the lingering smell of disinfectant and metal in the kitchen. Thereβs no one left to pretend for. No one left to stop him.Β
βYou wanted to wind me up,β he says, voice low. βCongratulations. You did.βΒ
βAnd now?β you ask, soft but steady.
He reaches for you, fingers curling around your wrist β not rough, but firm. Anchoring. Claiming. His thumb presses into your pulse, and he feels how fast itβs racing.
βNow,β he says, releasing you slowly. βEveryoneβs gone.βΒ
Your breath catches. Just once. Thatβs all he needs.
He steps back, forcing space between you like itβs the last good decision heβll make tonight.Β
βThis is your last chance,β he says. βIf you walk out that door, we forget this ever happened.β
You look at him for a long moment.Β
Then you turn.Β
Not to leave β but to the door.
You reach up, fingers wrapping around the lock Harry left half-turned, and twist.Β
The click is loud in the empty restaurant. Final. A choice made out loud.
Will laughs under his breath, something dark and unrestrained finally snapping loose in his chest.
βYou really donβt know when to stop, do you?β
You step back into his space, close enough that he can feel the heat of you again, voice low and sure.
βNeither do you.βΒ
His hand comes up to your jaw, thumb brushing your lip, slow and deliberate now, like heβs taking his time on purpose.
βGood,β he murmurs. βBecause Iβve been waiting all night.βΒ
Will doesnβt kiss you this time β he claims you.
His mouth finds yours like itβs been denied too long, hands already moving, already sure, already done pretending this is anything other than inevitable. You barely have time to react before youβre pressed back against the counter, his body boxing you in, voice low and dangerous against your lips.Β
βCome on, be a good girl for me now?β he murmurs, like he knows you wonβt listen β and like heβs counting on it.Β
You try to answer him, but when his fingers brush against your damp underwear under your skirt, it comes out in a broken noise, breath catching when his grip tightens on your arm just enough to remind you whoβs in control.
βYouβre soaking already, sweetheart.β He says teasing. βDonβt worry, Iβll fix this for you.βΒ
He lifts you, so youβre sitting on the countertop, leaning back on your hands, and lowers himself so heβs level with your already aching core. You can feel his breath hot against you, making you squirm around and very close to begging for it.Β
Will drags your underwear down your legs torturously slow, then stuffs them in his back pocket, sending you a smirk.Β
Before you could respond to that, Will leaned in to lick your slit.Β
βOhΒ fuck,β you cried out, head thrown back, arms nearly giving out with the shock of pleasure.Β
He uses his long fingers to push through your folds and slips one into your embarrassingly wet hole, tongue attached to your clit. He takes his time in a way that almost feels cruel, making you feel every second of it, every inch of anticipation, making that string inside you stretch thin.Β
His hands hold your thighs in place around his head, steady and unyielding, while his mouth memorises the taste of you, nose nudging your sensitive clit as his tongue dips into you.Β
Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter without thinking, knuckles whitening. Whines and broken noises escape your lips. The faintest hint of satisfaction shows in the way his grip tightens, but his pace never changes.
βLook at you all, desperate.β He says, pulling his mouth away, but still pumping his fingers in and out. βIf I knew this was all it took to shut you up, I would have done this ages ago.β
βSh- shut up,β you say weakly. Gasping as he hit that spot deep inside you.Β
βThatβs not very nice, honey is it?βΒ
He returns his lips to your drooling pussy, and you let out a whine. You were practically humping his face, and when Willβs tongue moved even faster, you moved your hands to grip his hair and began to press his face deeper into your folds.Β
βFuck, Will, yes, so close,β you groaned out, legs shaking as he moved his mouth to suck hard on your clit. After only a few more swipes and licks of his tongue, you could feel yourself on the edge.Β
When you try to speak, to warn him, to say his name, he hums softly instead, a quiet, controlled sound that tells you heβs exactly where he wants to be.
βGo on, sweetheart, cum for me.β You finally let go, shaking as you do, and Will holds you as you fall apart.Β
When you finally stop shaking, Will stands from his place on the floor slowly, giving you a second to catch your breath.Β
But his hands donβt leave you. They slide up, steady and smooth, thumbs brushing reassurance into your skin even as his eyes stay dark and focused, watching you like heβs checking for something only he can see. For a moment, he just holds you there, breathing heavy, forehead resting briefly against yours like he needs the contact to steady himself too.Β
βLook at me,β he says quietly.Β
You do, and his grip tightens just a fraction, approval flickering across his face like heβs pleased with what he sees.Β
βGood girl,β he murmurs, voice low and certain.Β
Then his hands move again, guiding you to lean back on the counter.Β
He leans in, mouth brushing your ear, voice low and rough with restraint. βNot done with you yet,β he says softly, unbuttoning his trousers and shoving them down.Β
You reach towards him, freeing his cock from his underwear.Β
βImpatient little thing, arenβt you?β He chuckles down at you, capturing your lips in a kiss where you can taste yourself on his tongue, while he lines himself up at your entrance.Β
βPlease, Will.β You finally beg, and he pushes into you, stealing your breath away.Β
βThere you go, pretty girl.βΒ
He starts slow at first. Deliberate. Dragging his cock in and out of your walls like a punishment for every time you teased him, every time you smiled at someone else just to make him lose his mind. His voice drops again, closer now, and when he says your name, it sounds like itβs been sitting on his tongue all night, waiting.
βStill want to play?β He asks teasingly, breath warm against your skin, trailing kisses down your neck.Β
Your breath stutters, and he notices, smiling like heβs been waiting for that reaction. He reaches up to fondle your tits, making more pathetic noises fall from your lips and echo in the empty kitchen.Β
The steel counter is cold against your back, a sharp contrast to the heat building everywhere else, and you squeeze around his cockΒ hard.
The control heβs been holding onto slips, not completely but enough that his breath stutters, enough that the brutal rhythm changes. The sound you make pulls a groan out of him, low and rough, and he presses closer instinctively, forehead dropping to your shoulder.Β
βFuckβ, he breathes out.Β
You feel him lose the careful pacing, the way he finally stops dragging it out, thrusts turning needier, and everything narrows down to sensation, pressure, and the way he keeps you close. His hands slide to your back, holding you through it.Β
You moan out again. βWillβΒ fuck-Β Iβm gonna-β
βThatβs it,β he murmurs, βIβve got you.β
You finally cum for the second time that night, and Will follows soon after, hips stuttering as he releases into you.Β
Will rests his forehead against yours for a second, eyes closed, your breath mingling, like heβs grounding himself before he moves at all.
When he does itβs careful. Unhurried. He guides you off the counter and down with him, hands warm and steady, until youβre both sitting on the floor.Β Β
The kitchen floor is cold.Β
Or it should be β but you barely notice, curled into Willβs side with his jacket half-draped over you both, the faint hum of the fridges filling the quiet. The lights are dimmed, the world reduced to his breathing and warmth and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek.Β
One arm is wrapped around you, firm but easy now, thumb tracing absent-minded lines along your arm, the other hand is tangled in your hair, gentle in a way that feels new β careful, almost reverent.Β
You feel safe.Β
Not in aΒ this changes everythingΒ way.Β
Justβ¦ steady. Warm.Β
Itβs nice you think β the quiet after the storm. The way the tension has finally burned itself out into something softer, something easier to breathe in,Β
Will presses his lips to the top of your head without thinking about it.Β
You smile and let yourself melt a little more into his side.Β
For once, thereβs nothing to prove.Β
The next few days at work feelβ¦ different.Β
Not dramatic. Just shifted. Like the air has settled into a new shape around the two of you.Β
Willβs calmer.Β
Not soft but less sharp around the edges, less quick to snap when things go slightly wrong. He still runs the kitchen like a drill sergeant, but thereβs a looseness to him now, like heβs not carrying quite so much tension in his shoulders anymore.Β
And everyone notices.Β
You catch him looking for you without realising heβs doing it β eyes flicking to the floor when he thinks no oneβs watching, hands stilling for half a second when you pass the doors. He doesnβt shout at you anymore, not once. Just meets your eyes, smiles slightly, lets you get on with work.Β
Itβs almost worse than the arguing was.
Arthur Frederick is the first to say something.Β
βSo,β he says one afternoon, scrubbing a pan thatβs already clean, while you linger in the kitchen on your break, his eyes darting between the two of you. βYou and Chef got, likeβ¦ a truce or something? Because he smiled earlier, and it was terrifying.β
Will doesnβt even look up.
βArthur.β
βYeah?β
βShut up and do your job.β
Arthur Hill snorts from the other side of the sink. βThere he is.β
Will finally looks up, glare sharp and familiar. βWould you like to join him?β
Both Arthurs immediately shut up, returning to their work with exaggerated focus.Β
You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling.
Later, when you pass the kitchen, Will catches your wrist briefly β quick enough that no one sees β just long enough to brush his thumb against your skin.Β
βDinner tonight?β he murmurs.Β
You nod, and he smiles.Β
The cat-and-mouse game is over, and somewhere between service and silence, you found something worth keeping.
note: this is a continuation of soft launching with w2s! i had a lot of fun with it and i wanted to keep it going so enjoy! i started this in july of 2025 oops..... i'm hoping to drop some more fics soon but rn i lowkey got a paper due tomorrow....
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"date night :3"
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yourusername did you pray today? cuz if you didn't, imma have to dick you DOWNNN
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