#chrismd fluff

[clarkeysbedchem]

late night talking

george clarke x fem reader

summary: george yaps whilst you try to sleep

main masterlist | masterlist

The bedroom was quiet aside from the hum of the fan that was cooling the room along side the drumming of George’s fingers on the duvet. He was sat with his back against the headboard and his knee bent, his gaze dropped down to your sleeping figure.

George gently tapped your shoulder making you stir as you tried to fight waking up, “Are you awake?” He asked through a whisper.

You murmured a ‘no’ pulling the quilt over your head trying to fall back to sleep.

George hummed turning his attention back to the ceiling as he started to drum on his knees again.

You rolled your eyes flipping over burying your head into curve of your boyfriends waist, George smiled letting his hand dropped to your hip.

As you slowly drifted back to sleep you were jolted back awake as you felt a jab into your rib, “George.” You grumbled, “go to sleep, please.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

You felt the bed wiggle indicating that he shrugged. You flopped over onto your back with a huff, “Go on then.”

George grinned reaching over you to turn the lamp on before you glanced over at him, “Imagine if there was an apocalypse,” he started, you squeezed your eyes shut pretending to imagine it making a giggle leave George’s lips, “who would you choose to be on your team?”

“How many people can I have?”

“Four people.”

“Okay,” you nodded, tapping your chin as you thought carefully, “you obviously.”

George pumped his fist in the air celebrating, “I would’ve been so offended if you didn’t pick me.”

You laughed shimmying closer to him, “And then I’d pick Liv because otherwise I’d be bored.”

A chuckle left George’s mouth as he started to play with your hair twirling it softly between his fingers, “Two more people.”

“Bach, so Liv doesn’t get lonely.” You added, thinking through your list of friends trying to decide who else you would pick, “and then I’d pick maybe…”

You hummed, “I don’t know who else I would pick.”

“Neither of the Arthur’s?” George asked curiously.

You shook your head with a laugh, “no, tv would be too analytical for me, and hill is injured and would whine the whole time.”

George let out a laugh making you smile up at him, “What about Chris?”

“Maybe,” you nodded, thinking about it for a moment, “Alright, I’d take Chris because he can cook.”

“Fair enough.”

You looked over at your boyfriend expectantly waiting for his answer, “What about you, princess?” You teased, earning a glare from your boyfriend.

“If we’re thinking in a practical sense; I’d take Reev, Harry, and Chris.” He answered, counting them out on his fingers, “But if we’re talking in a don’t care if i die way; I’d take you…”

“Yeah. brilliant, thank you.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest earning a laugh.

“And then I’d take Arthur Hill, Max and probably Arthur TV as well.”

You gave him a sarcastic smile, “that’s lovely.”

George laughed once again moving to lay down, “I have another question.”

You nodded turning on your side to face him, “What’s that?”

“When did you realise you wanted to be with me?” He asked, looking into your eyes adoringly noticing your cheeks darken at the question.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know.” You muttered, dropping your head down, “I always found you attractive I guess.”

“Obviously.” He joked, ticking your waist making you squirm.

“Stop,” you pushed his hand away with a laugh, “Maybe after my birthday.”

“What? This year? Honey, we’ve been together for 2 years.”

You slapped his bicep gently, “be serious will you.”

“After my 21st, we had been talking for a few months at that point, and you were chatting away to my parents and dancing with my baby sister and it just made me think of you differently.”

George smiled softly at you brushing your hair from your face, “That’s cute.” He cooed, kissing your forehead softly.

“Yeah, yeah.” You hummed, turning around so your back was pressed against his chest, “can I go back to sleep now?”

“Of course.” He smiled, kissing the crown of your head before turning off the lamp.

[kislnd]

handsy - chrismd~

synopsis: chris loses all sense of self restraint when he's drunk around y/n. notes: hey... i have returned after a very long while... with the chris fic based on this request from a while ago 🫶 getting back into the flow of writing so apologies if this isn't the best!! warnings: suggestive, alcohol word count: ~1.3k

masterlist

the pub was a haven of warmth amidst the cool autumn night, its windows fogged from the breath of numerous conversations and a slight aroma of alcohol and some sort of fried food clinging to the atmosphere.

y/n could tell chris was already a few drinks in and gradually becoming more and more competitive as he challenged each of his friends to a game of darts. "you still think you can beat me?" he teased to a more sober arthur who just rolled his eyes playfully, his voice louder than usual due to the alcohol loosening his tongue. "don't get too bigheaded, it'll be even more embarrassing when you lose." arthur grinned, standing to his feet to take chris on. y/n couldn't help but crack a smile at arthur's remarks - usually it was chris who would say things of the sort, especially when he was under the influence.

y/n watched intently as arthur went first, despite the fact he also had a couple of drinks he was still quite good - good enough that she wasn't sure if chris could actually beat him. "that might actually be a hard score to beat chris," she grinned at him from where she was sitting. "hey!" chris turned around abruptly to face her, a slight smile on his face, "you're supposed to be my number one supporter!"

"i am, i'm just realistic." y/n shrugged, "for some reason arthur is weirdly good at certain things." at this, arthur piped up, "that didn't feel like a compliment," he smiled, but remained fixed in his position, hyperfocusing on the dartboard to finish up his final few throws as best as he could.

"chris, you're up," arthur pulled his final dart out of the board, satisfied with his score. "i'll wait a second, let you feel good about your performance for a moment before i thrash you." y/n still wasn't convinced chris would be able to pull it off but she stayed quiet, anything could happen, especially if he was this dead set on winning.

the first couple of throws hadn't been too bad but in comparison to arthur's up to that point, they were slightly lower scoring. "you're going to have to really pull it out of the bag here mate," another one of the guys who was invested in the game commented. "don't worry, i know what i'm doing." chris nodded to him, y/n couldn't help but laugh - she wasn't quite sure when he turned into the grand master of darts but this mentality wasn't currently translating into skill. admittedly, she was hoping chris would win, moreso because after everything he had said, it would be a blow to his ego if he lost and painfully embarrassing.

as if by some miracle, chris' final throw was the saving grace of the entire game. arthur's mouth fell open in shock, he had been leading for most of the game and rightly so, had been expecting to come out on top. "i like to lure them into a false sense of security." chris grinned widely at arthur, who still hadn't fully processed how he had managed to bring it back to the point of victory. "yeah, i've no idea how you did that but fair play, well done." arthur shrugged, taking another sip of his beer.

chris finished gathering up the darts, went to order another pint and returned with his drink, situating himself next to y/n. "i never doubted you for a second." she giggled, shuffling a little closer to him. he smiled, resting his hand on her thigh, "whatever you say."

as the night drew on and the drinks continued to flow, y/n noticed chris' hand inching further and further up her thigh, pushing her skirt dangerously high. he was rubbing small circles on her inner thigh absent-mindedly, engulfed in the conversation at the table. every now and again, he would glance at her with clouded eyes that, despite being tired and obviously drunk, were still filled with love, maybe even something more.

y/n mentally confirmed he was in a certain mood as he inched closer to her, dragging her towards him so their sides were pressed together - one arm around her, resting gently on her lower back while the other continued to rub her thigh slowly, almost painfully. if they hadn't been in public, she was certain something more would have happened by now. chris was getting more bold, sliding his hand even further up her leg, earning a gasp from her. "chris!" she hissed, not wanting to draw attention to them, "really?"

despite being a little more than just slightly drunk, chris knew what he was doing, and y/n knew that for a fact. "what?" he smiled a dopey half smile at her, "can't i touch my beautiful girlfriend?" y/n rolled her eyes playfully, she still couldn't believe how cute he was capable of being - especially given the fact that he was generally quite mean when under the influence. she had to admit she couldn't get enough of the way it made her feel extra special, and honestly it did give her a good laugh. the way he would be super loving towards her and in the same breath call some poor victim, usually arthur, a rude name was just comical. "why don't we get this treatment?" arthur prodded chris in the side with a cheeky smile on his face. "last time i checked you weren't my girlfriend?" he snapped back lazily, head flopping onto y/n's shoulder, hand still firmly planted on her leg. "wouldn't want to be either, you're crushing the poor girl!" another one of the guys, one y/n honestly didn't recognise in the moment, added.

at this, another couple of people at the table darted their eyes towards her, noticing the way chris was near enough wrapped around her completely, bar his lower half. she felt the heat rising to her cheeks, she was never the type to do pda, but equally she wasn't entirely opposed to it - just as long as it wasn't something too crazy. "you lot as well?" chris sighed, exasperated at the attention from seemingly everyone other than y/n, "i'd like to enjoy my girlfriend in peace please," he shut his eyes slowly, clearly getting towards the tired stage of being drunk. "we can tell," arthur continued, noting chris' hand placement. y/n assumed that this was his way of getting back at chris - playfully of course - while he wasn't energised enough to argue. "i'll let you have that one, i won the darts," chris didn't bother to open his eyes to reply, he used what energy he had remaining to pull himself closer to y/n, "and i have a sexy girlfriend, so who really won?"

the table erupted into laughter - y/n couldn't tell if this was genuine shock or amusement or a blend of the two. the way chris could be so straightforward when he was drunk and come out with some of the most unexpected things was remarkable, he became almost the polar opposite of his sober self. "right, i think we'd better get home," y/n spoke lowly to chris, who hadn't moved from her seemingly very comfortable shoulder. it was getting late and everyone was visibly tired and / or intoxicated so she figured it was a good idea to slip out of the pub before the masses left.

chris only hummed in agreement, eyes still firmly shut, the few thoughts that were circling his mind were all y/n.

[clarkeybabey]

❝ wish you were sober ❞

# prompt; "I got you flowers" "what's the occasion?" "uh... just because?"

# playlist; wish you were sober, conan gray, bubble gum, clairo

# word count; 999 (i wish i was kidding)

# note; sorry i've been mia guys, i had nooo inspiration or ideas for a few days:(. definitely send some requests my way id love to write anything for you guys.

Although today was your free day with no filming or other commitments, some of your friends asked if you'd like to hang out. You decided it would be better to catch up on all the laundry that had been piling up from the past month of traveling. The messy bun you put your hair in had sagged its way down to the nape of your neck evidence of your many half-assed attempts

During your search for straggling socks for the laundry, an unexpected knock on the front door echoes through the empty flat. Not expecting visitors at this hour, you wonder if it might be your roommate who has forgotten her key.

Another brief knock on the door grabs your attention, followed by the sound of your name being called. That's definitely not your flatmate, hurriedly, you gather the scattered clothes around you, tossing them into the hamper with a sense of urgency. Speed-walking to greet the unexpected visitor.

When you reach for the doorknob you step up onto your toes looking through the peephole, you feel the beat of your heart thump against your ribs as you realize the visitor is none other than your long-time friend, Arthur Fredrick. Taking a deep breath and mustering up courage, you turn the lock, opening the door, excitement bubbling up inside of you.

Nearly immediately you notice how unsteady he is on his feet and to your surprise he's holding a bouquet of flowers out to you, "Got these-" he's interrupted by a hiccup, his free hand coming up to his chest, his face reddens making you smile, "Sorry, got these for you," despite knowing how intoxicated he is, you feel warm all over at the gesture.

He grins cheekily, although he can't help but stumble slightly due to his intoxicated state. Through his inebriated haze, he notices your nervous demeanor at the sight of him not even trying to hide his amusement, "Thank you," another hiccup from him makes you pause whilst he composes himself again, 'For what exactly?"

Curiosity is laced in your voice as you carefully accept the flowers from his wobbly hands, gesturing inward with a nod of your head. "Come inside, it's bloody freezing out here," you say, concerned when you notice his lack of coat and the shorts he's wearing.

Steadying himself against your door frame, he clumsily maneuvers his way inside, fumbling with his trainers and setting them down on the shoe rack where he always does.

He grabs onto the rack to stand up, "I was on my way back from filming platform roulette, and I saw these at a shop," he slurs, gesturing towards the bouquet of flowers. he pauses momentarily, using all his brain power to follow you into your kitchen, "Then I remembered you lived pretty close, so I thought I'd stop by."

You hum in acknowledgment as you stoop down the find a vase from the lower cabinet, carefully setting it in the sink to fill with water, "'s really sweet of you, I love them, thank you," A smile plays at the corners of your lips as you turn on the faucet.

You hear him shuffling around behind you but he comes up just next to you, leaning against the counter. His presence fills the small kitchen, and you catch a pleasant whiff of his cologne, mixing with the faint odor of alcohol

"I'm glad you like them," he murmurs, his voice has the slightest rasp to it which has your mind bussing in a way you can't exactly understand. As you turn with the vase of flowers in hand, his gaze is unwavering as his eyes roam over your face making your breath hitch at the unintentional proximity.

The space between you is electrified, the world outside forgotten as his warm expression draws you in heightening the tension that hangs between you both.

"Sorry," you exhale softly, he smells your toothpaste on your breath as you sidestep around him in the small kitchen, the bouquet still clutched in your hand. You carefully place the flowers in the vase on the island, then rummage through the cabinets to find a glass. You fill it with fresh, cool water from the fridge, setting it in front of him.

"Drink this we'll get you sobered up a bit. If you're feeling up for it, we can watch a movie," you suggest with a friendly smile, although a hint of awkwardness seeps through as you await his response.

He flashes a knowing smile, watching you anxiously pick at your nails. There's a brief moment of silence before he gives a firm nod, his eyes holding another thing you can't seem to pinpoint. "I'd like that," he murmurs, the words carrying a hint of vulnerability.

The air hangs still, filled with the weight of so many unspoken things.

He obeys your instructions, finishing the water while you slip off to your room to change into pajamas. When you re-emerge you find him sitting on the couch, his phone in hand, and his empty glass on a coaster, Upon noticing your return he drops his phone onto the table patting the spot next to him.

He has already chosen the first Harry Potter movie, which elicits a genuine smile from you. As the opening credits roll, he turns to you, his voice sincere:

"Thank you for letting me stay for a bit," he says, lacing your fingers together and you give his hand a squeeze instead of verbally replying, The atmosphere is intimate, the soft glow of the screen casting shadows over his features as the movie unfolds. The silence between you is comfortable, and the shared familiarity of the film creates a cozy bubble where only the two of you matter at this moment.

Your mind screams at you to say so many things at once, but you simply bite your tongue and continue staring at the TV. All you can think is how different things would be if he weren't drunk.

[orchidniins]

Cupid Clarkey | Chris Dixon

Summary: George Clarke plays matchmaker for his best friend and his flatmate. Pairing: ChrisMD x f!Reader, Best Friend!George Clarke Warning: Fluff Word count: 9.3k+ A/N: Thanks anon for this request! The timeline in the fic sorta jumps forward quickly (just don't think about it too much😗 ). This is my longest fic ever and I would really appreciate feedback on it! Hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Can you get off my Hinge already, Y/N?” George's annoyed voice cut through the blaring music of the pub as he tried (and failed) to snatch his phone out of your hand.

“I'm trying to find you a girlfriend, Georgie,” you retorted, laughing as you dodged his attempts.

You were currently squished into a booth in the pub, sitting next to George, both of you a few drinks in (though you were definitely more drunk than him), swiping away on his Hinge profile and bickering like you two used to back in uni.

Having just moved to London a few weeks ago, tonight was a reunion of sorts. You were meeting up with George and a bunch of other friends from your uni days.

You and him had met in the first week of school, initially sitting next to each other in class, which turned into late-night study sessions and eventually blossomed into a close friendship.

George rolled his eyes. “Oh please, like you’re any better at this than I am.”

“Better at what? Being single or being hopeless at dating?” you shot back, smirking.

“How long has it been since your last relationship?” George challenged, raising an eyebrow at you.

You scoffed and looked back at him. “And how long has it been since you’ve been laid?” you teased, swiping left on yet another profile.

“Oh, trust me, Y/N, I get action,” George shot back, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Oh please, the only action you’ve seen is from your right hand,” you said, laughing at him.

“Well, that’s a lot coming from you,” George countered. “You haven’t dated since that prick from uni.”

“I actually enjoy being single,” you said, shrugging. “All you do is cry about it. You always say you want a girlfriend, but you turn down every girl that approaches you.”

George snorted. “Say that to the pint of ice cream you finished last week in under an hour while watching that chick movie and bawling your eyes out about wanting a boyfriend.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, turning back to his phone. “Oh, you got a match! I’m gonna message her.”

“Absolutely not!” George exclaimed, finally managing to pry his phone out of your hands. “Maybe if you were a little less picky, you wouldn’t be single.”

You looked at him in shock and surprise. “Really? You’re gonna talk to me about being picky?”

“You say that, but you’re the one with the mile-long checklist, not everyone can be as perfect as me, Y/N.” George retorted, shaking his head.

“If you’re so perfect, then maybe we should just date, Georgie,” you said jokingly, nudging him with your shoulder.

The both of you went silent for a moment, staring blankly at each other. Then, simultaneously, you shuddered at the thought. “No!” you both said in unison, laughing.

“God, that’d be like dating my sister,” George said, acting outwardly disgusted at your joke.

You stuck your tongue out at him, making a face.

You two continue your bickering, the atmosphere in the pub buzzing with laughter and chatter from your group of friends. After a while, your friends scatter around the pub, leaving just you and George in the booth. Just as you're deep in banter, an unfamiliar voice interrupts you two.

“Hey man,” a voice said, and you looked up to see a man with blonde curly hair approaching your booth. George got up to greet him, and from where you’re sitting, it’s very obvious that he was quite drunk himself.

"Chris, mate, how drunk are you already?" George asked, as if he had read your mind, with a chuckle, clapping Chris on the back.

Chris laughed, his grin widening. "Chip's pub golf videos always destroy me," he replied, his words slightly slurred as he swayed a little.

Chris glanced over at you, his eyes momentarily focusing as he took in your presence. "Hope I’m not interrupting," he said teasingly, turning back to George, flashing a mischievous grin.

George chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, mate, you're good. Go get yourself a drink and join us." Chris headed off to the bar, and George sat back down.

Chris returned with his drink and slid into the booth, his easy smile and sparkling eyes catching your attention.

“So, who’s your friend?” Chris asked, nodding towards you with a playful grin.

“Y/N, this is Chris, the flatmate,” George introduced, gesturing between the two of you. “Chris, this is Y/N, the best friend.”

“Hey, nice to meet you,” you greeted Chris warmly.

Chris grinned back at you. “George is wrong, you know. I’m the best friend.”

“No, you’re wrong. I've known him longer, so I am his only best friend,” you say, as you laugh at him.

“Don’t need to fight, guys,” George interjects, “There’s enough of me to go around.”

“That’s just not right,” Chris replies, ignoring George. “I live with him. Do you know how much shit I put up with? Surely that makes me his best friend.”

You chuckle, “Okay…but have you had him shotgun a can an hour before a final, puke all over your bed, and then have to clean it up and make sure he gets to campus in time?”

Chris grins, “Alright, but have you had to deal with his shit love life? Or lack thereof? And like have had to listen to him complain all the time.”

You exasperatedly add, “Yeah! Actually, I have,” you say, nodding at Chris.

You turn to George. “Honestly, George mate, you're a mess. I don’t even want to be your best friend anymore.”

Chris nods in agreement. “Yeah, man, you’re kind of a pain in the ass.”

George looks between the two of you, bewildered. “What the fuck is happening?”

You and Chris exchange a look. “Maybe we should become best friends and ditch George,” Chris suggests, winking at you.

“Guys, can we go back to both of you fighting over me?” George says, and you and Chris burst out laughing at him.

You find yourself feeling instantly drawn to Chris's charm. After a bit of small talk, you learn that Chris had been out for a shoot and decided to drop by the pub where George was once he finished. You had heard George talk about Chris before and all the antics they’d gotten up to, but you hadn’t paid much heed to it until now.

And as the night went on and you got increasingly drunker, you found yourself sitting closer to Chris. George already knew this about you; you always got increasingly flirty and bolder when you were drunk—a stark contrast to your sober self. 

Usually, George was always one of your victims, jokingly hitting on him to piss him off, and he also always had to keep you away from creepy men when you were drunk. But now, with Chris in the mix, George honestly did not know what to say at the scene in front of him.

(A/N: I have no game whatsoever. Even if I did pull in the past, I was so drunk that I genuinely don’t remember. I did my best I promise)

“You’re pretty cute for someone who’s friends with George,” you say to Chris, a playful smile on your lips as you take another sip of your cocktail.

Chris grins and leans in closer. “And you’re pretty hot for someone who hangs out with him.”

You laugh, inching closer to him and playfully touching his bicep. "I know, I'm just naturally irresistible," you tease, giving him a sly look that hints at something more.

Chris chuckles, his eyes twinkling. “Well, I believe it. If you weren’t George’s friend, I’d have made a move on you the second I walked in.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning in so your lips are just inches from his ear. “Who says you can’t make a move now?” you whisper, your breath warm against his skin. “Who knows, tonight might be your night.”

Chris’s breath hitches, his gaze darkening. “Is that so?” 

George groans. “You two are disgusting. Chris, stop hitting on her. Y/N get away from him!”

You brush off George, leaning even closer into Chris’s touch. “Ignore him, he’s no fun.” 

Chris says, "He's just jealous that I’ve got the attention of someone this beautiful," he murmurs back, his lips brushing lightly against your earlobe, his voice low and you hear George scoff in the back.

George rolls his eyes dramatically. “I can’t take any more of this. You two are unbearable.” He stands up, shaking his head. “I’m going to go close out our tab. You better be five feet apart when I get back.”

As George walks away, you and Chris are left alone, practically glued together at this point. “Looks like it’s just us now,” Chris murmurs, his hand migrating to your thigh, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

You smile coyly, leaning closer to him. “And what do you plan to do now that it’s just us?” you tease, your voice laced with playful anticipation.

Chris chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear. “When George told me about you, he didn’t mention how incredibly sexy you are. If I had to be around someone as gorgeous as you, I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”

Your heart flutters at his words, and you feel a rush of desire. “Well, it looks like you’re doing a pretty good job of controlling yourself so far,” you reply, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

Chris’s eyes darken with desire. “Who says I’m trying to control myself?” he murmurs, his lips hovering just above yours, lips so close that they are almost touching.

Before things could escalate further between you and Chris, George returned, breaking the intense moment. "Okay, I think it's time to get you two home," he announced.

Despite your protests, he manages to pull you off of Chris. As you stood up, the effects of the alcohol hit you, causing you to stumble. George quickly steadied you, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you from falling over.

Realizing it was late and knowing you were in no state to go home alone, George insisted you crash at his place, which was closer than yours and the three of you hailed a cab back to the boy’s flat. 

Once there, George quickly dumps Chris in his room, before he sets you up in his own bed. He offers you some of his clothes to change out of your outfit and he opts to sleep on the couch for the night.

As you drifted towards sleep, the alcohol slowly wearing off, you couldn't help but rethink the events of the night. All your actions start to blur now, though a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You knew there would be consequences to face in the morning, but for now your body needed sleep.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

The next morning, you wake up with a pounding headache, the hazy memories of the previous night lingering in your mind. As the realization of your interaction with Chris sets in, all you wanted to do was bury yourself six feet under.

You stumble out of George’s bed, groaning softly as your head throbs. Dressed in George's oversized clothes, you made your way to the kitchen, clutching your head, desperately in need of coffee.

As you enter, you freeze at the sight of Chris, who’s already there, shuffling around in the kitchen.

He’s dressed in grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, his hair tousled and the hangover evident on his face. You catch a glimpse of his abs when he reaches up to a cupboard, and despite your headache, you can’t help but stare for a moment, your brain going to dangerous places.

Chris turns around and spots you, offering a weak smile. You look away slightly embarrassed, fearing that you were caught staring. “Morning,” he says, his voice hoarse as he clears his throat.

“Morning,” you reply, trying to muster a smile despite the awkward tension that has settled into the air.

There’s a long, uncomfortable silence as you both avoid each other’s eyes, the memory of your flirtatious behavior lingering between you. Chris pours himself a glass of water, and you take the opportunity to grab a mug for coffee, hoping the caffeine will help clear your head. “Do you want a cup as well?” you ask, trying to break the silence.

“Huh? No, thanks,” he responds, clearly drawing himself out of wherever he had zoned out to for a minute.

“So, uh,” Chris begins hesitantly, stopping for a moment when you both hear George stirring on the couch. Chris gestures toward the balcony, and you grab your coffee and follow him outside. Once you two are there, you lean against the railing, both of you awkward, neither knowing what to say.

Chris is the first to break the silence, rubbing the back of his neck. “…last night…was something...I guess we were pretty drunk.”

“Yeah,” you agree quickly, trying to downplay your embarrassment. “Pretty drunk.”

He chuckles nervously. “I don’t usually… you know, act like that.”

“Me neither,” you admit, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “It was just the alcohol, I guess.”

“Definitely,” he nods, relief evident in his expression. “We can just, uh, forget about it, right?”

“Absolutely,” you say a bit too quickly. But, you feel your heart drop a little, though you don’t know why. Him wanting to not acknowledge what happened yesterday (though it was nothing) makes you slightly upset, but you don’t let it show on your face. You bury your face in your coffee, avoiding his gaze.

It was insane how comfortable you two were around each other last night, and now the air was replaced with this heavy awkwardness that neither of you knew how to break. And the worst part is you couldn’t even remember all that you did yesterday (But you're sure George won't let you forget).

“So, um, any plans for today?” Chris asks, trying to make small talk and pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Um, what? No, nothing. Just gonna get back to my place and crash,” you say, shaking your head. “You?” you ask him.

“Same,” he says. You nod in response, but neither of you knows how to continue. You both stand there, sipping your drinks and stealing glances at each other, the awkwardness palpable.

“So I should go,” you say, trying to get out of that situation as quickly as possible. Chris just nods, and you step back into the apartment, making a beeline for George’s room, just wanting to get out of there and back to your own space as quickly as possible.

All you can think is, what the hell is wrong with you? You weren’t usually like this with people…what is happening?

-------⋆✧⋆-------

After that day, George teased you endlessly about what happened with Chris. Each time, you brushed him off, ignoring his jabs, saying you didn’t want to talk about it or that you didn’t remember what happened, unwilling to revisit the embarrassing memories of that night.

You’d run into Chris a few times when you were over at the flat with George, but those interactions weren’t any better. Your interactions with Chris went from awkward to him just plain ignoring your presence now, and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Combined with how embarrassed you still felt about your actions, you decided it was better to just ignore him as well.

George would drop you knowing looks whenever that happened, but when he saw that you really didn’t want to talk about it, he eventually dropped the topic.

Until today, that was.

“I’m not feeling up to it,” you tell George, speaking with him over the phone.

“Come on, it’ll be fun. Just a movie night with some friends,” George tries to persuade you.

“I don’t know, George. I’m just not in the mood,” you reply, feeling a mix of anxiety and reluctance.

George sighs, knowing exactly why you’re hesitant. “Look, I get that things are awkward between you and Chris. But avoiding each other isn’t going to make it any better. We’re all friends here. Just come over, watch a movie, and relax. You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to.”

You hesitate, biting your lip. “I just... I feel so embarrassed about everything. I don’t want to make things weird.”

“See, I don’t know exactly what’s going on with the both of you, but I can tell you’re overthinking it. Things are only as awkward as you make them. We’ll have a good time, I promise. And if it gets too much, you can always leave. Just give it a chance, yeah?”

You sigh, feeling the weight of his words. “You’re right. I’m just overthinking. It’s not a big deal. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Great! I’ll see you soon,” George says, the excitement evident in his voice.

And that is how you found yourself sitting on the floor in George’s flat, leaning up against the couch with "The Hangover" playing on the TV.

You were bundled up in a blanket, surrounded by scattered cushions, with the smell of popcorn in the air. George was sitting on the couch just behind you, lazily flicking popcorn at your head, which you returned by swatting him on the knee.

“Seriously, George, you’re worse than a child,” you scolded, turning around to look at him as another popcorn kernel hit you on the forehead.

“Can’t help it,” he replied with a grin. You whacked him on the thigh this time, but he still threw another piece your way.

It was just George and the Arthurs for now. Despite your cold conversations with Chris, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit disappointed when George mentioned that Chris would be running late. Even with the weird energy between you two, you were kind of maybe hoping to see him today.

You were enjoying yourself, though. You’d met Arthur Hill a few times before and got along really well, and this was your first time meeting Mr. Television (as George liked to call him), and you were having a great time with the boys.

You pull your focus away from George and instead decide to just watch the movie when you hear the door open, and your eyes dart to the entrance. Chris walks in, dressed in dark cargos and a black sweatshirt, his curls messy from the day and it made him look a little rugged, and all you could think about was how good you thought he looked.

He swings his backpack onto the floor and starts taking off his coat, before he greeted everyone.

Your heart skips a beat at how effortlessly attractive he looked. Despite the cold vibes he had been giving you this whole time, you couldn’t deny your attraction towards him.

Outwardly, you were trying to be cool about it, but inwardly, you were itching to know why he was acting like this. You give him a tight-lipped smile as you make brief eye contact, but he quickly looks away, heading to his room.

George noticed the exchange and shook his head slightly. You shot him a look that said ‘stop it’, but you knew he’d bring this up later.

After a few minutes, Chris joins you all, settling on the floor next to you while the others remain on the couch. Other than the occasional instances where you pass him the popcorn, he avoids eye contact, but you can sometimes feel his gaze on you, especially when you and George bicker in loud whispers.

You reach for the coffee table, grabbing a can of seltzer, about to take a sip, only for George to snatch it out of your hand. “George!” you exclaim, swatting him on the arm before you wipe away the few drops of the drink that he managed to spill on your shirt.

You think you hear a chuckle from Chris, but when you turn to look in the direction of the sound, his eyes are glued to the TV.

After a bit, Chris gets up and heads to the kitchen. When he returns, he silently hands you a drink. You take it with a small, surprised smile, touched by the sweet gesture even if things between you two are still a little awkward. "Thanks," you murmur.

He nods in response, his genuine smile making your heart flutter before his eyes flick away from yours, and you feel yourself melt.

As the credits roll on the third film, George nudges you and suddenly pulls you into his room.

“What the fuck is going on with you and Chris?” George asks bluntly, shutting the door behind him.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Honestly, I have no idea. After that day at the pub, it’s been so weird. I don’t even know the guy, and I feel like he hates me or something. Is he like this with everyone he just meets?”

George frowns, looking apologetic. “Not really… Normally, you can’t get him to shut up.”

“I get such cold vibes from him,” you admit, frustration seeping into your voice. “What did I do wrong?… Whatever, I don’t care, but its annoying.” You pause, then add with a small, reluctant smile, “It doesn’t help that every time I look at him, I drool.”

George responds, slightly shocked, “I—I’m sorry, what?”

You roll your eyes and say, “I’ve been single for so long that I’m even attracted to your shitty friend.”

George laughs, shaking his head. “He can get on your nerves, but he’s not that bad. But, he can be a little socially challenged around people he—”

George stops mid-sentence, seeming to have a moment of realization, his expression shifting. “Huh.”

“What? What’s wrong?” you ask, confused.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” he says quickly, disappearing out of the room before you can press further.

You stand there confused for a second before you return to the living room, where Arthur Hill and Arthur TV was tidying up. You decide to join them, looking around, wondering where George and Chris had suddenly disappeared to.

You help them gather the empty bottles and snack wrappers, making small talk. Just as you're finishing up, George and Chris reappear, both looking shady as hell, whispering to each other. 

You look at George, giving him a pointed look. "What was that about?" you whisper, nodding toward Chris, who was leaning against the kitchen counter with the Arthurs, laughing about something.

George shrugs, trying to play it cool. "Nothing, just guy talk."

You give him a look. "Tell me."

"Really, it was nothing," he insists.

You roll your eyes, annoyed. "Fine, whatever, don’t tell me. I need to get home anyway, it’s getting late."

George quickly checks the time on his phone. "It’s almost midnight. Why don’t you just sleep here?"

"I just wanna be back in my own bed. At midnight is not that late, and I barely live like a 15 min walk away," you explain to him.

"You can just as easily walk home in the morning," he says.

Before you can protest, he continues, "You know what, fine. But I don’t want you going home alone." He turns toward the kitchen and shouts, "Chris! Do you mind driving Y/N back home? I would do it myself…but can’t drive mate."

Chris whips around, looking between the two of you, clearly flustered at George’s request. "Uh, sure, no problem."

You quickly interject, "It's okay, I can get home on my own. I don’t want to trouble you."

Chris clears his throat. "It's no trouble," he assures you, grabbing his keys. "Let's go."

You grab your stuff and walk out the door with him. The ride down in the elevator is silent. You play with your nails, trying to avoid his gaze, while he shifts uncomfortably beside you. When you reach the car, Chris opens the door for you, and you thank him. "Thanks, Chris."

"Don’t thank me yet," he jokes as you both buckle up. "I’ve only had my UK license for a month now, so we’ll see how this goes."

You look at him, slightly alarmed. "Seriously? Get me out of the car."

He laughs, and you join in. "I know how to drive, I just haven’t driven much since I moved to London."

Some of the tension eases, and you both relax a bit. He hands you his phone. "Can you enter your address into the GPS?"

You do, and as he starts driving Chris glances at you, "So, why did you move to London?"

You smile, happy to have a conversation starter. "Work, mostly. And also ‘cause I have friends here.”

He nods. “So, you liking London so far?”

You nod, looking at him as you speak. “Yeah, I like it. But the city gets overwhelming sometimes. Sometimes I just wanna run back home.”

Chris nods in agreement. “Same, especially when I miss my family. And I get it, sometimes you need to get away from George.”

You chuckle, wanting to keep the conversation going. “Be honest with me… how have you not killed him yet?”

He laughs, responding, “I won’t lie, I’ve plotted his murder many a times.”

You both laugh, and the conversation continues, light-hearted and easy. For the first time in like a month, the conversation between you two feels natural. And before you know it, you’d reached your apartment.

"Thanks for the ride, Chris," you say, unbuckling your seatbelt.

"No problem," he replies, his smile genuine. The air goes silent as you both stare at each other.

"Umm... goodnight," you say, quickly getting out of the car, feeling a tad bit awkward.

"Goodnight," he responds, and you gently close the door.

He waits until you're inside the building before driving off, and for the first time, you feel a warm, hopeful sensation in your chest and you can’t seem to wipe away the smile on your face the whole way up to your flat.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

The next day, you and George meet for dinner after you’re done with work. “I can’t believe he’s engaged”, you say as you move your food around on your plate, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Why do you care?” George asks between bites of his burger. “You hated him by the end of your relationship.”

“I know, but why does someone like him get to be happy?” you sighed. “I’m just tired of being single. Why is it so hard to find someone half decent?”

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong places,” George says, trying to sound all philosophical.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you on about?”

He shrugs, laughing as he says, “Maybe you should date Chris.”

You almost choke on your drink. “Chris? Really? Chris? We can barely hold a conversation!”

George smirks. “Didn’t you say you guys got along fine last night? And don’t get me started on drinks last month. And don’t lie to me…you think he’s hot,” he says, making a fake gag face.

“What? No, I don’t,” you protest. “I might be desperate, George, but not desperate enough to date your friends.”

“What’s wrong with dating one of my friends?” George mocks hurt.

“I was kinda hoping that once I got a boyfriend, I just wouldn’t have to see you anymore,” you joke.

George clutches his chest dramatically. “Ouch!”

The drive with him the other day was fine, more than fine and he was kind of sweet actually. You laugh, but the thought of dating Chris stays on your mind, an idea that you might not be all that opposed to. -------⋆✧⋆-------

A week had passed since your conversation with George, and despite trying not to let it affect you too much, you couldn't deny still feeling on cloud nine after that drive with Chris (even if it was barely 10 minutes long).

You and Chris were now following each other on social media. You'd occasionally chat or reply to each other's stories, gradually warming up to each other. You found yourself craving more time alone with him, curious about what it would be like to get to know him better.

But right now, you were looking forward to a quiet weekend in, finally getting to that book you had been putting off for weeks now. With a cozy blanket wrapped around you and a hot cup of tea, you settle onto your couch, eager to dive into your book.

Just as you start to get lost in the pages, a notification pops up on your screen. You peek over at your phone and see a text message from George.

George: Hello best friend Y/N: What do you want? George: Wow. Warm welcome Y/N: Fine. Hiii Georgieeee….What do you want? George: So you know how you are the smartest, strongest person I know 🥺 Y/N: Just spit it out 🙄 George: Can you please come over and help me build that dresser I ordered for my room? Y/N: And there it is... George: So..?  Y/N: No, don’t want to. George: Pleaseeeeee….I’ll buy you food Y/N: No George: Come on, please 😩 Y/N: No….you’re gonna make me do all the work George: I won’t...and I’ll throw in dessert  Y/N: You’re impossible  George: 👀 Y/N: Fine….See you in 10  George: 🫡🙇

With a sigh, you set your book aside and started getting ready to head over to George's place. Not bothering to change out of your comfy sweats, you threw on a jacket and made your way out.

When you arrived at George's flat, you knocked on the door and waited. To your surprise, Chris answered, looking equally surprised to see you. "Hey, Y/N. What are you doing here?"

“George asked me to come over, said he needed help building his dresser”, you explain, and Chris steps aside, letting you step inside.

Chris says, “Hmm, he asked me to help as well, after complaining for a straight 5 mins about not wanting to do it on his own.”

"That little bitch," you huffed, pulling out your phone from your pocket.

Y/N: Where the fuck are you!!??? George: Sorry emergency Y/N: What?  George: Please help a guy out Y/n: Why!? It’s your dresser! George: Chris will help Y/N: Wait George: Bye

You breathed out in frustration, realizing all too well what George was trying to do. Deep down, though, you were somewhat glad to have some time alone with Chris. Fingers crossed you'd be able to hold a conversation today.

You huffed and shoved your phone in your pocket, then turned to face Chris. "Yep, he's ditched us, the bastard," you said, looking back up at Chris who was watching you with an amused expression.

Chris chuckled, and you felt a bit self-conscious. "What?"

"The Powerpuff Girls?" he asked, a small smile curling up on his lips.

"What? I'm here to build furniture, not walk a red carpet," you replied, glancing down at your pajamas, trying to appear nonchalant but secretly cursing yourself for not dressing better. Chris just laughed, shaking his head.

“Great…it’s just the two of us." you said, catching Chris's attention as he looked at the unpacked table pieces that George had left for you.

Chris raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. "You act like it's a bad thing."

You chuckled, picking up a screwdriver. "Let's just survive this project together first."

"Survive? Geez…It's just an Ikea dresser," Chris teased, walking towards the scattered pieces.

"Yeah, but have you ever tried assembling furniture with George? He pulls everything out of the box, doesn’t organize anything by the way, then he just gives up and leaves you to figure stuff out," you vented, holding up a loose screw you found on the floor a good distance from the table for emphasis.

Chris laughed, shaking his head. "Can't say that I have. Lucky for me you’re here to pick up the pieces," he joked lamely, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes, letting out a small laugh at his attempt.

"Let’s just build this stupid thing," you said, walking towards the mess.

Chris chuckled. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, looking around for the instruction manual.

Chris sighed in frustration, looking through the jumbled pieces. "Damn, where did George put those instructions?"

"Knowing George, he probably already threw out the instructions with the outer box," you said, half-jokingly. You fear you might be right, shuffling through everything and not finding the booklet.

You sit on the ground and try to organize the pieces, placing everything into neat piles. Chris picked up a piece and moved to place it in what he thought was the right pile.

"No, not that one," you said, pointing to a different pile. "Put that there."

Chris chuckled. "You're a little type A, aren't you?"

You grinned. "That's not the insult you think it is." You laughed lightly, enjoying the banter.

The two of you get on with trying to put the piece of furniture together.

Chris was completely engrossed in screwing in the legs, his brow furrowed in concentration. You couldn’t help but notice how his features hardened with determination, and you find him extremely attractive in this moment.

"You're really into this," you teased lightly, nudging him with your elbow as you passed him the next piece.

Chris glanced up, a playful glint in his eye. "Of course. Gotta impress you with my handyman skills."

You chuckled, kneeling down to align a set of screws. "Impress me, huh? Well, if you can get through this without instructions, color me impressed."

“Prepare to be amazed, Y/N,” Chris replied with a grin, returning to his task.

Your eyes involuntarily lingered on his arms, noticing how his t-shirt hugged his muscles snugly. You found yourself imagining running your hands across his arms and over his chest, remembering how you felt that night when inhibitions were lower.

Chris's voice snapped you out of your daze. "Sorry, what was that?" you asked, needing him to repeat his words.

"No, I was just…" Chris paused for a moment, sitting on the floor, pausing the task at hand. He hesitated as he looked up at you.

"Go on, what is it?" you encouraged him, curious about his question.

He started cautiously, "I've always wondered, why did you and George never date?"

You laughed softly, surprised by the question. “George? I don’t know, it’s just something that never happened. I don't even think either of us ever even considered our relationship to go that way”

Chris gives you a skeptical look, "Really? Not even once?"

"Not even once," you confirmed, shaking your head. "George and I have always been more like siblings."

Chris nodded softly, as if processing your answer. "Good to know."

Though slightly taken aback by his reaction, you chose not to dwell on it for too long.

“How did your shoot go this week?” you ask him.

Chris perks up a little, clearly pleased by your interest. "Oh, it was great! But it did go a lot longer than usual. I'll blame that on Arthur and his terrible football skills. But the audience will never find out. I should probably pay my editors more for making him look somewhat competent at football."

You both laugh, and Chris continues to talk about YouTube and some of his ideas. You can't help but smile at how passionate and happy he sounds when he talks about his work.

After a while, you two pull yourselves out of the conversation and get back to finishing the dresser. 

"So, if you had to rate my IKEA furniture-building skills, what would you give me?" Chris asks, a playful grin on his face as the two of you now sit on the couch.

"Hmm," you ponder, pretending to be deep in thought. "Solid seven."

"Seven!?" Chris asks, feigning outrage, leaning in a little closer. "I thought I did pretty good."

"It would be higher, but you get distracted easily," you tell him, the space between you and Chris now barely a breath.

"Well, you were the one distracting me," Chris says, and you're taken aback by his comment. Your mouth falls slightly open, suddenly very aware of the proximity between you two.

Before you can respond, the door swings open, and George walks in, looking between the two of you with a mischievous grin. "Well, you two seem to be getting along well." You quickly get up from your place next to Chris.

You stare back blankly at George, arms crossed over your chest. "How was your... emergency?"

George's grin widens. "All sorted," he replies nonchalantly, before turning around to enter his room. "So which one of you is gonna help me move the dresser into my room?"

You and Chris exchange annoyed looks, then smile at each other, his smile exceedingly tugging at your heart, before you both scream, "Do it yourself!"

-------⋆✧⋆-------

Over the next few weeks, you and Chris had become friends, finding yourself spending time with him more often. You still couldn’t believe that just a few months ago you two couldn’t even look each other in the eye. 

However, it seemed like every time you made plans with George or any of his friends, Chris was always there, and you two would magically end up alone together. You didn't think much of it, knowing that as much as you loved George, you hated him meddling in your love life, and he knew that as well. So, there’s no way he was involved, right? (Or maybe, deep down, you hoped that all the time you’ve been able to spend with Chris was somewhat of a sign and not your nosy best friend getting involved.)

You were at George’s place yet again (where else could you be? You only had like two friends) and helping him clean out his closet, stuffing his old clothes into donation boxes.

Slyly, you asked, “Where are the rest of your flatmates?”

George replied, “You know…they’re around,” without making eye contact, his back turned to you.

“And Chris?” you asked, slightly hopeful.

George looked up at you, almost as if he was wishing that you hadn’t asked that question.

You caught his expression, furrowing your eyebrows in worry. “What’s wrong?”

George placed the T-shirt he was folding gently into the box before turning to look at you. “Okay, so don’t get upset.”

“Why would I get upset?” you asked, a little concerned.

“Before I tell you, know that I told him not to do it,” George started.

“George... speak,” you demanded, poking him in the chest.

“Chris is out on a date,” he finally said.

You feel your heart plummet to the pit of your stomach, “Oh, good for him.”

George looked at you, clearly noticing your attempt to hide your disappointment. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” you said, trying to brush it off and distract yourself by placing more clothes into the box.

“Y/N, come on. You really don’t think I know you better than you know yourself?” he looked at you matter-of-factly and you were struggling to maintain eye contact with him.

“I’m fine, George,” you tell him, trying to get him to drop the topic, but he only looks at you like he doesn't believe you.

“Y/N. I know you like Chris”, he states and you feel your whole body freeze.

“What? No, I don’t,” you retorted, and honestly, even you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.

“Y/N—”

“George—”

“I see the way you look at him, Y/N, and when he speaks, you hang on his every word,” he interrupts you.

“George, no... Chris and I, we’re just barely friends,” you try to explain to him.

“I know you two had a rocky start, well, a drunk and touchy start,” he teased, dodging the T-shirt you threw at him, “but you’ve grown closer over the past few months and I think you’re just in denial about your feelings. Plus you look like you wanna jump him every time you look at him.”

You sat there on the edge of the bed for a minute, thinking about what George had said. Yes, things were a little iffy at the start, but you had grown to like his company. He was funny, quite sweet, and in recent times, easy to talk to. Not to mention, every time you looked at the man, it was like your brain short-circuited at how hot he looked.

George carefully considered his words before continuing. “You’ve always been like this, Y/N…cautious.”

As his words sank in, it dawned on you.

“Holy fuck, George! I like Chris,” you exclaimed, falling back onto the bed. “How did this happen? I feel like I’ve gone insane. When did I become so blind to my own feelings?”

George watched you in amusement, a small smile playing on his lips. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

“But–-,” you sat up, turning to George who was now sitting on the opposite corner of the bed, “there’s no way he likes me back.”

“Eh?” George responded, confused. “Why would you think that?”

“Because the guy is literally on a date right now,” you say, exasperated.

“So?”

“What do you mean, “So”? If he liked me even a little bit, he wouldn’t be going on dates,” you say, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“Probably because he doesn’t know you like him. Just tell the guy,” he suggests, his face soft, laced with concern.

“I can’t do that,” you look at him, your voice coming out almost broken.

“Why?” George comes to sit next to you, placing a comforting hand on your back.

You take a deep breath before you continue, “Because things just got somewhat good with him. We’re finally past that awkward phase and are friends now. I don’t want to go back to that cold phase when he ultimately rejects me.”

“He’s not gonna reject you, Y/N,” he says, throwing his arm around, pulling you into his side.

“How do you know?” you look up at him.

“For Christ’s sake, Y/N, just tell the guy how you feel.” he says, as he pulls away from you so that you’re both now facing each other.

“No, I can’t do that,” you said, getting up off his bed and heading out of his bedroom.

“What, Y/N! Where are you going?” he asked, following you.

“Home,” you said, making a beeline for the door.

“Why?"

“So that I can go to bed and wake up and forget about all of this,” you said looking back at him, hand now on the door knob.

“Y/N…”

“Bye, George,” you said, before opening the main door and closing it behind you, confusion and uncertainty swirling in your head.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

“Here,” Arthur Hill handed you a drink, and you threw him a quick thanks, quickly gulping down the liquid. Arthur looked at you, concerned. The party was lively around you, the usual chaos of a house party at George’s place.

George had convinced you to come to the party, saying it’d be a good distraction, to get your mind off of things—things being Chris. 

George had promised you that Chris was busy tonight and wouldn’t be here, so you reluctantly agreed (though George had to beg a lot more than he was hoping he’d have to).

You had only arrived a few minutes ago, and you already wanted to leave. You just wanted the peace and quiet of your room to contemplate about your doomed love life and drown your sorrows in a pint of ice cream.

“You okay?” Arthur asked, pulling you out of your daze. “You look distracted.”

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied with a half-hearted smile and you were grateful that Arthur didn’t push any further.

"I'm gonna get myself another drink," you said, and Arthur nodded in response before you navigated through the crowd toward the kitchen.

You made yourself a drink, pouring whatever bottle of alcohol was closest to your reach into your cup, wanting something strong. If you couldn’t drown yourself in ice cream, alcohol would have to do. (Not your smartest idea, but oh well.)

You took a sip of your concoction, the liquid burning as it flowed down your throat. You turned around but just as you were about to head back to find Arthur, when you spotted him. Chris.

He was the last person you wanted to see right now, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him. How did he manage to get even hotter than the last time you’d seen him? (Honestly, it was torture.)

But there he was, talking to some girl you’d never seen before. The sight felt like a punch in the stomach, knocking the air out of your lungs. All you wanted to do was leave. You placed your drink on the counter and set your sights straight at the door. In your haste, you didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings and bumped into someone. Looking up, you saw it was George.

"Whoa, where's the fire?" George asked, blocking your path.

"George, I need to leave," you said, trying to sidestep him.

“Why? What happened?” he asked, but before you could answer, he glanced over your shoulder and saw Chris. “Oh, I see.”

“Just talk to him, Y/N,” he tried to persuade you. “Whatever the outcome, it’ll make you feel better.”

“George, are you crazy? I can’t” You looked up at him, and the vulnerable look in your eyes made his heart break.

“Fine, but please don’t leave. Just take a breather for a minute. You should at least stay and enjoy the party,” he insisted. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off, “Just stay in my room for a bit. You can come back out after a while.”

You agreed, knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and turned towards his room. “Good,” he said, pushing you gently by the shoulders.

Once you were in his room, you turned to look at him. “Now stay put, I’ll be right back.” You nodded, and he headed back out of the room.

You took a seat on his bed, and before you knew it, you heard the door open. Expecting to see George, you froze when you found Chris instead.

“George, what are you doing?” Chris protested as George pushed him into the room. “Stop, bro!”

You got up and shout, “George! What the hell?”

“You two talk,” George said, pointing at both of you before quickly shutting the door. You heard the lock click.

You rushed to the door, trying to turn the knob, but it wouldn’t budge. “Bastard locked us in,” you said to Chris.

“George! Let me out!” you protested, banging on the door.

“Not until you two talk to each other,” George yelled back.

You turned to find Chris looking just as surprised as you. “Well, this is awkward,” Chris said, rocking back and forth on his feet with his hands shoved into his pockets. “I might be wrong...but I think George wants us to talk.”

You sighed, leaning against the door. “Yeah, he’s a lot of things… but subtle, he is not.”

Chris chuckled. “What gave it away?”

Your suspicions were right. That motherfucker had been playing you this whole time, getting Chris to drive you home, finding ways to get the two of you to spend time alone, locking you in his room. And you’d walked right into it. Idiot.

“That slimy little shithole,” you muttered to yourself.

You laughed out loud. “So George seems to think we would make a good match.”

“What?” Chris said, looking nervous.

“Did you not realize?” You looked at Chris, and he was staring at you with an unrecognizable look on his face.

“Well…” he started sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “I kind of knew.”

“What do you mean you knew, Chris?” you asked, confused.

“I mean, I knew George was trying to set us up, he sort of told me he would, that day that you were over at our place for movie night.” he admitted.

“I’m sorry…?” you ask him again, arms crossed.

You raised an eyebrow. “And you were okay with it? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Chris sighed. “I promise, I told him not to! And I just didn’t know how to bring it up..... But honestly, I didn’t mind. I liked spending time with you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “What? You liked spending time with me?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ve kind of liked you since the day we first met in the pub.”

“But that was months ago,” you said, incredulous. “Why didn't you say anything till now?”

He sighed, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes. “I don’t know. All I know is that every time I look at you, it’s like the words leave my mouth. Of course, I wanted to talk to you after that night, but I didn’t know what came over me every time. You’re literally the most gorgeous woman I’d ever laid my eyes on, and each time I wanted to ask you out, I’d choke up.” “But what about that date?” you asked, trying to process everything. “If you liked me so much, then why did you go on a date?”

Chris looked a little guilty. “George told you about that?” You nodded before he continued, “You can’t blame a guy for trying to move on, especially when a girl like you couldn’t possibly like me back,” he said softly.

You shook your head. “Chris, I… I’ve liked you too. I think I’ve liked you the whole time. But I didn’t think you did, especially after how everything was after we got drunk that night.”

Chris stepped closer, hope in his eyes. “You like me too?” he asked again, making sure he wasn’t wrong about what he heard.

“Yes, Chris, I like you too,” you responded.

“So we’re both hopeless in the love department?” he asked.

“Yep, looks like it,” you said, laughing. “So hopeless that we needed Cupid Clarkey to get us to finally admit our feelings.”

You both stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

Chris stopped to look at you, stepping even closer. “God, I love your laugh,” he said softly, and you looked at him shyly.

“And you have the most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen,” you stepped closer as well and he flashes that gorgeous smile of his, the kind that gets your stomach in knots.

He said, “You know, I regret nothing from that night.”

You replied teasingly, “Really?”

He nodded, “Well, there’s only one thing I regret.”

You asked, “And what’s that?”

He said, “That I didn’t get to kiss you,” as he tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes go dark and intense, piercing into your soul.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” you whispered, and with that, Chris crashed his lips onto yours.

The kiss was everything you’d dreamed of and more. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer, while your arms made their way around his neck and your hand tangling into those perfect curls of his, tugging slightly, earning a groan from him.

The kiss was filled with so much emotion, both of you pouring everything into it—all the pent-up feelings from the past months. It was intense, and full of passion and tenderness, leaving you breathless. You could feel his heart pounding in sync with yours, the heat between you two electrifying. It was as if the world had melted away, and there was nothing but this moment.

Chris pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his breath against your lips. “Me too.”

Before either of you could say anything else, you heard a slight thud outside the door. Chris gave you a knowing look, and you raised your voice intentionally louder. “Well, George’s bed looks nice doesn’t it? I think he just put new sheets on.”

Chris chimes up, “Maybe we should use it. We’re locked in here anyways. Might as well make the most of our time.”

Immediately, you heard George unlocking the door, bursting into the room. “Okay, get out, both of you. I don’t want you two fucking on my bed.”

You and Chris burst into laughter. Chris scooped you up playfully and ran off to his bedroom, shutting the door behind you two.

Once you were in his room, he slowly placed you on the ground, then pulled you onto his lap as he sat at the edge of the bed.

“So... I think I should ask you properly,” he said, looking up at you.

Chris leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “Now that you know how I feel about you, what do you say we give this a shot? Will you go out with me?”

You nodded, heart pounding in your chest. “I’d like that, Chris.” and he flashed you a smile.

“We really should be thanking George,” he said.

“Yeah, normally I hate him meddling, but this time I don’t mind. But please don't tell him that, or I'll never here the end of it,” you said as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Chris grinned. Forget about it then, I just want to kiss you again.”

You laughed, and with that, you closed the distance again, letting yourself melt into his touch. The feeling of his soft lips sent a shiver down your spine.

This moment felt perfect, like you fit together in a way that was always meant to be. His arms wrapped around you securely, pulling you closer, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours. You hated to admit it, but George playing cupid had turned out to be the best thing that could have happened to you and Chris.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Bonus Fun Facts (cannon to this AU):

- George did find your drunk closeness to Chris disgusting, but he didn't really care if you snogged his friend or not. He pulled you off of Chris more out of fear of what you would do to him if he let you make any drunken mistakes while he was around. - During your conversation after movie night, George realized that Chris had a crush on you. - He and Chris disappeared off onto the balcony and he managed to get Chris to fess up that he was in fact into you. - George said he'd gladly meddle. Chris told him not to meddle. George meddled. - He knew you two hopeless idiots would not give each other a chance without a gentle push in the right direction. - George did in fact tell Chris not to go on the date, bringing up his crush on you. - Chris said that he was sure that there was no way you liked him and that you had not shown any interest in him. He did not want to make you uncomfortable by making a move on you so he decided to try and forget about his crush. - Could George just have told you that Chris liked you...yes? But did he instead choose to play cupid for his own amusement, of course he did. - Plus you hadn't explicitly told him that you liked Chris and he didn't want to dump that news on you. But then he realized that you were too thick when it came to your own feelings..so he did just dump it on you. - George realized he had to kick his matchmaking skills up to a 100 (and yes his best idea was locking you to in a room). - Of course he eavesdropped, and the next morning he did in fact not let you hear the end of it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: Thanks for reading guys! I'm trying to get through all my pending requests now that I'm back. Also tell me if you liked the bonus facts in the end. I realized that there were things I wanted to include that I didn't want to put into the main fic, so I just threw them in at the end. I personally like it, so I think I'm going to start throwing them into my fics from now on.

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊

[cheekytv]

Can I request a fic with Chrismd? Something that's angsty and ends in fluff and smut pls <33

hiii, here you go <3 i hope this is to your liking!!

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

synopsis: you feel neglected by your boyfriend. so, you take matters into your own hands and he makes up greatly for the hurt he caused you. word count: 2.4k genre: angst, fluff, smut MDNI! warnings: chris comes off as a real bad bf in the beginning i apologise lol, mentions of breaking up, mentions of feeling neglected smut warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, praise, slight dirty talk (like one line fr), unprotected sex, creampie this was beta-read by the lovely @lovetaroandtaemin, thank you ally dearest <3

dating someone like chris was a challenge sometimes.

not because he wasn’t sweet or kind or wonderful. 

no, chris was all of these things. sweeter and kinder and more wonderful than anyone you had ever met before.

it was just that, sometimes, he wasn’t really present in your relationship. he was on shoots most days, was playing football with his mates, was not home when you came back from your “normal” nine to five. 

you missed him. a lot. and he just wouldn’t listen to you. whenever you brought up wanting to spend more time with him, he would always make up a new excuse as to why he couldn’t - at least not this week. but soon, he’d promise. 

as much as you wished you weren’t, you couldn’t help but be fed up with him and his constant apologies that weren’t any. fine, he’d send flowers to your office or leave a sweet note on your bedside table for when he was doing an overnight shoot for a new footy video. 

it wasn’t enough. no matter how hard you tried to deem it such, you just couldn’t.

which was how you ended up here.

chris had his preferred football field booked for the whole day, and you had decided to look for him there. since he wasn’t coming to you, you might as well go to him. 

it wasn’t chris who spotted you first, but george, his eyebrows shooting up. all of his friends knew you, but none of them had ever really seen you around sets before. 

“y/n?” he jogged over to the fence where you now stood with your hands in the pockets of your warm coat. 

“hi george. uh, any chance there is a break soon and you could call chris over?” you tried a small smile, but failed. george checked your face, trying to see if he could somehow figure out what was going on, but when he couldn’t, he nodded and told you to wait just a bit. 

shifting on your feet, you went over the words in your head again. you hated doing this. hated giving him an ultimatum. you hated him putting you in this situation much more, though. 

“babe?” not even five minutes later, chris hurried over to you, worry spread all over his face. you wished his presence didn’t immediately put you at ease. it would be so much easier if you did not still love him so bloody much. 

“hi. sorry for interrupting your shoot, i just- i really needed to talk to you.” 

chris nodded slowly, finally coming to a halt in front of you, his own hands buried in the pockets of his sports jacket. 

“is everything okay? you’re worrying me, love.” 

you swallowed down the urge to simply tell him you missed him. 

“chris, i-,” you took a deep breath, averting your gaze from his handsome face to the floor, “i don’t think i can go on this way.” 

“what do you mean?” chris’ worry turned into confusion, honest and raw, and you hated it. obviously, he would never even think of you breaking up with him. but then - were you really breaking up?

“i mean, chris, that i can’t do this anymore. not like this. i love you so much, but i rarely ever see you. you aren’t home when i’m home, and you don’t make time for me when i need you to. i miss you every single day, and you- you just,” you sighed, finally bringing yourself to look at him, “and you just continue doing whatever you want and don’t even take a second to think about me, about us. i feel like i don’t matter in this life of yours, that i am not a priority and i- i can’t do that anymore, chris, i can’t feel like this anymore.”

it was safe to say chris had not expected this. his face fell and his heartbeat rose, the cold air around him suddenly suffocating. 

“fuck, y/n.” he breathed out, pulling a hand through his blonde hair, “fuck, i- i’m so sorry, i-,” he didn’t even know where to begin. he wanted to go on his knees and apologise, wanted to turn back time. never had he ever wanted to make you feel this way. he knew he was busy with work, knew his youtube channel was his main priority - but so were you! but, apparently, he had failed at showing you just how much he loved you.

“i don’t want to do this, chris, but i- i need you to change, i need you to put me first, put this relationship first. you told me you want to spend your life with me, so please, spend it with me, chris.”

tears were now welling in your eyes, and chris took one big step, his hands finding their familiar place on your face.

“oh my love, i am so fucking sorry,” he wiped away the first tear that spilled with his thumb, shaking his head, “you’re right, i wasn’t- i wasn’t the best or even a good boyfriend these past few months. i took you for granted. i took us for granted, my love, and i am so beyond sorry. of course i want to spend my life with you, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” his thumbs caressed your cheeks and the sincerity in his eyes just made more tears well up. 

“chris,” you sniffed, interrupted only by him leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

“i’m sorry. i will do better; i promise i will.” 

he kissed you again, and you felt relief wash over you. while it did still hurt a little that it had to come to this for him to really understand, you gladly accepted his words and kissed him back, your cold fingers finding their way into the curls at his nape. 

kissing him felt like home, felt like warm honey in ginger tea, felt like a blanket wrapped around you on a cold winter day. chris was your everything, your heart and your soul, your now and your forever. 

“let me tell the guys i’m taking you home. we were almost finished anyway.” he parted from you, his eyes sparkling, and you nodded, smiling lovingly up at him. 

“okay.” you said, slightly giggling when he pressed another kiss to your cheek before hurrying off to his friends, telling them the shoot was gonna end earlier. all of them were happy to go home, and chris’ team was kind enough to offer packing everything by themselves so he could be with you. apparently, they had all kind of seen the spectacle. 

chris and you went home then. the whole way, your fingers were intertwined. and even when he unlocked the door to your shared home, he wouldn’t let go. 

you didn’t let the possibility of him acting this way just for tonight cloud your mind. you felt it, felt him realising what he could lose if he didn’t put more effort into your relationship. 

when he kissed you, his fingers were still laced between yours. just that his other hand was now on your cheek, cradling it lovingly as the kiss deepend. his tongue carefully entered your mouth, licking against your tongue. electricity shot through your body right then, just like it always did. chris’ touches still felt like they did the first time; exciting and new and addictive. 

your arms found their way around his neck, knowing this kiss wasn’t going to end anytime soon and would most likely transform into something the two of you hadn’t done in quite some time. 

being this close to him again, feeling his heart beating against yours - it almost brought tears of happiness to your eyes.

chris’ kisses wandered from your lips down to your neck, and he led you into the bedroom, your shoes and coats left by the door. you let out a whine when he sucked on your skin, when his fingers dug into your nape. his only response was a chuckle. if anything, chris was a tease, but right now he was eager to get you onto the bed, eager to get your clothes off and to show you just how much you actually meant to him. how sorry he was and how he was going to make it all up to you. 

even without the words being spoken, you knew the second you were on your back with your boyfriend kissing down your body, your sweater and shirt and falling off your body and onto the floor. next was your bra, his lips worshipping your bare breasts, your nipple stiff against his nimble tongue. arching your back against him, his hands shoving down your jeans and panties in one go, leaving you naked and waiting for him to take what was his. 

“you’re so beautiful, you are perfect, and you are mine.you  will forever be mine, love.” his breath was hot against your belly, and you could only respond with a moan. there was nothing that could ever come close to the feeling of chris between your legs, of him tracing his fingers along your sensitive skin, the inside of your thighs becoming his canvas and his lips becoming the brush. marking you the way he did when you first got together as if to make everyone aware you were his - even when he was the only one who saw them. 

“oh chris,” your fingers found the top of his head, nails slightly digging into his scalp when he leaned down further, his lips still on your skin, sucking until you cried out, another breathy chuckle hitting your core. you were aching you needed him to touch you, to love you, to-

his tongue licked against your swollen bundle of nerves, your hips jerking forward and a gasp escaping you. chris wasn’t patient today. not anymore at least. he licked over your folds, nose bumping against your clit, his forefinger finding its way to your dripping entrance. 

“missed this so much.” his voice was raspy, feeling heavenly against your folds as his finger pushed into you inch by inch. oh, how much you had missed him, missed his touch, how he felt inside of you. how he instantly knew what to do, where your sweet spots were. chris was your perfect counterpart in every way.

chris continued to fuck his finger into you, slowly at first, but with every passing second he sped up, opening you up for him. his tongue licked circles around your clit, leaving you a breathless mess on the sheets. both your hands were clawing into his hair and you let out a deep moan when he pulled his finger out, only to push in with one more. scissoring them inside of you, knuckles deep and right where you needed them. your tummy tightened, toes curling, the delicious feeling of release suddenly so close. 

“are you gonna come for me, darling?” chris kissed your bud, smirking up at you, his own arousal getting more and more pressing. while he watched you nodding desperately, he moved his free hand to shove down his own trousers and briefs, freeings his erection. 

“god, chris, don’t stop.” your hips were basically riding chris’ face by now, chasing your first high of the night. chris was more than willing to give you anything you wanted. and when he pushed into you the next time, you felt the tightness within you snap, a flush of pleasure washing over you and cries of chris’s name leaving your lips as you enjoyed every second of the intense orgasm. chris led you through it, fingers hard at work and tongue licking over every bit of cum you had gifted him. 

“so good for me. my perfect girl, i love you so much.” chris’ lips moved up, fingers leaving your still throbbing core. he trailed kisses up your body, over your tummy and chest and finally back to your lips, a heated kiss erupting between the two of you. your own taste was on your tongue, and you pulled him closer, hands eagerly moving to the hem of his shirt. he was quick to rip it off, his bare defined chest making you bite down on your lip.

“i missed you so much.” your words made his heart break a little again, reminding him of the pain he caused you. he dipped forward, kissing you again with every bit of remorse he felt. oh, how badly he wanted to take back the hurt he caused you. how badly he wanted to heal the wound that had opened up between you two. he loved you so much, and he hated how he had treated you.

“i love you, i love you so fucking much.” 

his hand grabbed his cock, jerking it off a few times before aligning it with your cunt, pushing in quick and perfect as your legs wrapped around his waist. the long moan you let out was like music to chris’ ears. 

his first thrust was slow but deep, and your whole body tingled. nails dragged along his muscular back, his hips beginning to move fully now. slowly, deeply. driving you crazy. all while his lips chased yours, tongue and teeth and spit mixing together, making both of you feel hot all over. your breath melted into one just like your hearts did and with every second that passed, chris lost more and more of his control. his thrusts became quicker and harder, and both of your moans stopped you from kissing. 

“want you to come inside me, chris, will you please?” 

“fuck, of course i will. whatever you want, baby.” 

fucking you even quicker, his head thrown back, chris knew it wasn’t going to be long until he fulfilled your wish. when you clenched around him, his name like a prayer on your lips when his cock threatened to bring you over the edge any second - that’s when chris felt his own release. burying his cock as deeply into you as humanly possible, he let it wash over him - ropes of white hot cum released within your clenching walls, your second climax hitting you hard, milking chris’ cock for all he could give you. 

“i love you, i love you so much,” he kept on whispering into your ear as he fucked both of you through the highs, finally collapsing on top of you. chests heaving, you let your fingers caress his slightly marked back, feeling a sense of pride when you felt the traces you had left. he was yours. forever and always.

“i love you too, chris.” you finally whispered back, and when he kissed you this time, you fully believed everything was going to be okay.

[rougetv]

Second Chance

exbf!ChrisMD x fem!reader

SUMMARY: You completely wrote Chris off after an incredibly bad date a few years ago, until you meet agin…

WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol?, not proofread!

(request from @insomniac4000)

_________________________

Her long fingernails drummed against the table, resting her chin in her hand as she stares blankly at her date.

She knew Chris had only broken up with Shannon recently, but he’d assured her nonstop that he was over her.

And now here she was, slugging back her hundredth glass of wine of the night in a desperate attempt to tune out the sound of Chris waffling on about every little  horrible detail of his ex-girlfriend.

_________________________

She was oddly thankful as the rush of cold London air hit her skin, a happy reminder that this nightmare of a date was over.

A soft, relieved sigh leaves her lips as she turns to face Chris, mustering up a polite smile, despite the horrendous night.

“So, uh… see you around, Chris”

His smile falters slightly at her choice of words. No ‘I’ll call you’. No ‘this was nice’. No ‘we should do this again’. But he knew he’d spent the entire date talking about Shannon, understanding this most likely was not a great night for her and he’s probably not ready to be dating right now.

“Yeah, yeah. See you around, Y/n”

The only goodbye he got was a polite smile and a simple nod, before shes turning on her heels and walking in the other direction, her heels clicking against the concrete pavement as she left, hoping to never have to see him again.

_________________________

A lingering smile stays on her lips as she walks away from her group of friends, still recoiling from the hilarious story her best friend had recounted from their college days.

Her eyes land on a free – and honestly, a quite attractive – bartender, quickly making her way over, not too keen on the idea of waiting in a queue, when a strong shoulder rams straight into her own, knocking her back a few steps before there’s a gentle hand on the small of her back, keeping her upright.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry… Y/n?”

She huffs slightly as she straightens back up, coming face-to-face with none other than ChrisMD,  which was the cause of hands down the worst date of her life.

She musters up a polite smile, not particularly because she was happy to see him but because she couldn’t be arsed to deal with any tension on her one night off.

“Hey, Chris. Don’t worry, it’s okay. Honest mistake”

A simple nod is the only goodbye she gives him before she’s pulling away from his large hand on her back and walking back to the bartender, rolling her eyes exasperatedly when she sees that, thanks to Chris’s shove, a queue has formed. She feels a hand wrap around her wrist, gentle yet persistent.

“Hey! Wait, wait, wait.”

Her hand pulls out of his soft grip, her fingers instead moving to move a strand of hair away from her face that had fallen out of the messy, yet somehow still neat, bun on top of her head as she raises an eyebrow at him expectantly.

Chris’s adams apple shifts slightly as he swallows nervously, not entire sure what he wanted to say, because honestly, he just wanted to speak to her again. He raises his hand, gesturing to her as a whole, a friendly smile on his face.

“You- you look great.”

She nods again, a forced polite smile on her face. “Yeah, you too”

To be fair, she wasn’t lying. He did look good. His hair was slightly darker and curly, rather than that straight hair he used to have, that looked like he’d used way too much gel. He’d grown a layer of neat, slightly grown-out, stubble, which she couldn’t deny looked so goddamn good on him, and he’d definitely been working out…

“So, how’ve you been?”

________________________

She wasn’t even quite sure how she ended up in this situation – sat next to Chris in a booth in the secluded corner of the bar, easy conversation, drinks flowing, and his hand resting comfortably on her thigh, the two of them gradually inching closer together as the night goes on.

That was until the chess-obsessed Arthur appeared at their table, offering a kind smile to Y/n before his eyes land solely on Chris.

“Taxi’s here”

Her smile falters slightly at the thought of Chris leaving. She was honestly having a great time, a stark contrast to their last date, but she lets him go, immediately missing the warmth of his hand, her thigh now feeling painfully cold.

Y/n sighs softly as she watches his retreating form, before he suddenly turns back around, taking a deep breath.

“I just- um- I… would you wanna go on another date? A proper date. No Shannon talk, I promise.”

A huge smile plasters itself across her painted lips, her entire body feeling like it’s buzzing with excitement at the sheer thought of a second date, something she never thought she’d want from him.

“Yeah. I’d love that”

_________________________

Hope you guys like this! x

Request: Can I do a chrismd request? Maybe they go on a date not long after he's broken up with Shannon but it's obvious he's not over her as he talks about her a lot. They reconnect 6 months later maybe maybe they meet at a bar and he has the beard now and she's like oh wow and he's obviously ready to date again so they try again?

[authortelevision]

“No hesitation. It’s literally George Clarke.”₊˚⊹♡

words: 2,312 ✦ .ᐟ

♯┆george clarke smut, friends to lovers, cunnilingus, penetration

while very drunk you confess to george how attractive you think he is. leading to a written and signed contract that allows him to do whatever he wants to you, whenever he pleases.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The pub was warm and loud, the kind of place where voices bounced off the wooden beams and glasses clinked endlessly. You were way too many drinks past tipsy, and the world was beyond just tilting in that soft, familiar way that made everything seem funnier than it should. George sat across from you at the round, slightly sticky table, surrounded by your friends, all of whom had that casual kind of good-looking presence that felt unfair when gathered in one group.

Someone had started a game, but it had long drifted from that and was now about ranking everyone’s attractiveness in the group. It was lighthearted at first, but soon, due to far too many pints and the safety of friendship, had began bordering on pure confessions.

“Alright, alright,” one of Arthur said, pointing his half-empty beer bottle around like a microphone. “Let’s be honest—if we had to pick the fittest here, It’s definitely George, right?”

The table erupted in overlapping shouts and exaggerated groans of protest. People threw out names, deflecting or tossing compliments back and forth, but the consensus was obvious from the beginning, it was definitely George.

“Alright, alright, we get it,” George said, laughing and leaning back in his chair. His cheeks were tinged pink, probably from the alcohol but also maybe from the compliments. “I’m flattered, really.”

You, meanwhile, had been quiet for a bit too long. Not because you disagreed, but because the alcohol had dissolved whatever barrier normally kept your thoughts in check. You were watching him laugh, the way his head tipped back, his hair slightly messy but in a way that somehow worked better than if he’d tried to style it. And, well, drunk-you thought it was probably time to say something.

“You’re not just fit, though,” you blurted, cutting through the noise. The table went quiet for a moment before bursting into laughter again, assuming you were joking. But you weren’t done.

“No, I mean it,” you said, gesturing sloppily at George. “Like, George could literally hook up with me anytime. No questions asked.”

The laughter shifted, turning into a mix of shocked giggles and playful hoots.

“Wait, what?” George said, leaning forward now, his grin somewhere between amused and incredulous.

“I’m just saying,” you continued, undeterred. “If he showed up at my place like, ‘Hey, let’s go,’ I wouldn’t even ask why. I’d just—” You made a vague, sweeping gesture, nearly knocking over your drink. “No hesitation. It’s literally George Clarke. He’s fit.”

George was laughing so hard he was practically doubled over, one hand gripping the edge of the table for support. “I’m sorry, I need this in writing,” he managed to get out between gasps.

Without thinking, you grabbed a napkin from the table and fumbled for a pen. Someone handed you one, either out of encouragement or sheer disbelief at what you were doing.

“Fine,” you said, squinting hard at the napkin as if it were a legal document. Your handwriting was atrocious, big, looping letters that slanted off the edges of the napkin, but you managed to scrawl something that resembled:

‘George Clarke can hook up with me anytime. Whatever and whenever he wants.’

You signed it with a weak signature, your name barely legible, and slid it across the table to him.

“There,” you said, leaning back in your chair like you’d just closed a business deal. “It’s official.”

George picked up the napkin, holding it delicately between his fingers like it was a priceless artifact. He stared at it for a moment before bursting into laughter again. “This is going on my fridge,” he said, tucking it into his jacket pocket.

The night carried on, the napkin forgotten by you as the drinks kept coming and the conversations grew even more chaotic. By the time you stumbled home, you’d all but erased the memory of your drunken declaration.

You woke up with a pounding headache and vague, mortifying flashes of the night before. Something about George. Something about a napkin. You groaned and buried your face in your pillow, praying it had all been a dream.

Meanwhile, across the city, George stood in his kitchen, sipping a cup of tea and staring at the napkin stuck to his fridge with a magnet. He smirked to himself, thinking back to all the ways he’d imagined you in his bed.

You weren’t expecting anyone. It was late, a quiet Wednesday evening, and you’d just settled onto the sofa with a blanket and some tea. The sound of the doorbell startled you, pulling you out of your own head.

When you opened it, you were met with the last person you expected to see at this hour.

George stood there, the napkin, the napkin, held loosely between his fingers. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d run his hands through it too many times on the way over, and his signature wide smile tugged at the corners of his lips. But his eyes held something else tonight.

“Hey,” he said casually, as if he wasn’t standing on your doorstep with a piece of evidence that could end your sanity.

“George?” you blurted, clutching the edge of the door. “What are you doing here?”

He leaned lazily against the doorframe, holding up the napkin like a winning lottery ticket. “I thought it was time I cashed this in.”

Your stomach flipped, and heat rose to your cheeks. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, already mortified. “I didn’t think you were actually keeping that thing.”

“Oh, I’ve kept it,” he said, his voice coated with amusement as he waved the crumpled napkin. “Are you kidding? This is priceless.” He tilted his head, stepping just close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating off him. “Besides, you always tell me that drunk words are sober thoughts and I think it still counts when you wrote this.”

“George—”

“Relax,” he interrupted, his voice teasing. “I’m not here to embarrass you.” He paused, his eyes flicking down to your lips and back up to your eyes. “Although, if I’m being honest, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You swallowed hard, your breath like a rock in your throat. “Thinking about what?”

He grinned, stepping into your flat. “What you said.” He lowered his voice. “The way you looked at me when you said it. The way you wrote it down without a second thought.”

You wanted to crawl under a rock, or maybe pull him closer. You hadn’t decided yet.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said, trying to laugh it off, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to breathe, let alone think straight.

“Am I?” he murmured, taking another step toward you, closing the distance completely. He leaned down slightly, his face scanning your expression. “Because I think sober you meant every word.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound came out. George’s grin widened at your silence, and he reached up, lightly brushing his fingers along your jawline.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said, his tone shifting, his playful confidence turning more intimate. “Tell me you didn’t mean it, and I’ll leave right now.”

The challenge hung in the air, and you hated how easily he could unravel you with just a few words. But he wasn’t wrong, not even close.

“I…” you started.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk tugging at his lips again. “I’m waiting.”

“You’re not wrong,” you admitted finally, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

George’s smile turned triumphant, and he closed the last inch of space between you, his hand settling on your waist. “That’s what I thought.”

The kiss came fast, catching you off guard but leaving no room for hesitation. His lips were soft, warm, and just demanding enough to make your head spin. His hand slid up to cradle your face, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss, while his thumb brushed against your cheek.

When he pulled back, you were breathless, your heart racing as his forehead rested lightly against yours.

“So,” he murmured, “does this mean I get full rights to the ‘whatever I want’ part of the deal? Or do we need to renegotiate?”

You laughed, your hands gripping the front of his shirt to steady yourself. “Oh, shut up.”

He grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

But soon his tongue demanded entry, and you opened, moaning softly as he explored your mouth with a possessive hunger.

He broke the kiss, leaving you gasping for air, and a wicked smile played on his lips. "I want you, right here, right now," he lifted you, making you wrap your legs around his waist, and carried you to the bedroom.

The room spun as he tossed you onto the bed, the soft mattress cushioning your fall. George loomed over you, his eyes burning with an intense desire that made your skin prickle with anticipation. He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand.

"You’re beautiful," he said, his voice rough. "And I promise you, you’ll never forget this."

You struggled playfully, testing his hold, but George only tightened his grip, his fingers digging into your sensitive skin. The pain was pleasurable, a sensation that only furthered your arousal. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, and whispered, "Be a good girl and take what I give you."

As he spoke, his free hand trailed down your body, tracing the curve of your breast, then lower, until he reached the waistband of your jeans. He undid the button and zipper, sliding them down your legs, leaving you exposed in your underwear.

George's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your naked body. He ran his fingers along the edge of your underwear, making you squirm under his touch. "Beautiful," he whispered,"but I want to see all of you."

With that, he tore the flimsy fabric, baring your body to his hungry gaze. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but the look in his eyes promised pleasure beyond measure. He stroked your thighs, spreading them apart.

"Look at me," he commanded. You opened your eyes, meeting his intense gaze as he lowered his head, his tongue tracing a path from your navel to the throbbing feeling between your legs. You gasped, arching into his touch, as his tongue flicked and teased, driving you wild.

He sucked on your clit, drawing it into his mouth, and you cried out, your hips bucking off the bed. His fingers joined in, delving into you, stretching and filling you as his tongue continued.

The pleasure was overwhelming, building to a crescendo. You were close, so close, and George seemed to sense it. He released your wrists, and you threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him to you as your orgasm crashed over you. Your body shook, and you cried out his name, a plea for more.

But George wasn't done with you yet. He rose, his hard body casting a shadow over you, and ripped open the button of his jeans. His thick, erect cock sprang free, and he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip.

"Please," you begged, your voice hoarse from the moans and gasps.

"Okay baby," he replied.

With one swift thrust, he filled you, so completely that you cried out in surprise. He held himself there, letting you adjust to his size, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, he began to move, withdrawing almost entirely before slamming back into you, over and over, each thrust harder and messier than the last.

His hands gripped your throat, his fingers curled around your neck forcing your breath to settle just above his grip. You gasped, your eyes widening as you struggled for breath, but he held you in his gaze, his light blue eyes burning into your soul.

"You’re such a good girl for me" he grunted, his voice in harsh gasps. "Tell me how much you want me, baby."

"Fuck… George," you managed to whisper, your body branded by George’s hot strong hands. "I want you, please George I need you so much."

George burrowed into your neck, biting your skin roughly, not bothering to soothe the pain, only kissing you aggressively. His pace quickened, George’s hips pounding into yours. The pleasure was something you had never experienced before, your body was craving George’s release so hard, it was bordering on pain, but you welcomed it, craving George deep within you, the smell of sweat and his cologne consumed all that was left of your senses. His fingers tightened around your throat, and he pounded deep into you one final time, his body stiffening.

As he released himself inside you, his grip on your neck loosened, and he collapsed onto the bed beside you, both of you panting. You turned to face him, your breathe slowly becoming less laboured, and saw the satisfied smile on his face.

"George stop smiling you dick” you weakly whisper.

George panted out a light laugh, “Sorry, just think about this a lot”

“You’ve been thinking about me?” you state as you roll onto your side cuddling into his chest.

“I’ve done a lot more than just thinking about you,” George confesses as he adjusts his arm to place his hand in your hair, playing with the strands as they fall through his fingers.

“Yeah?” is all you can say as the exhaustion floods your mind.

“Yeah. But I can’t believe there’s written proof of how bad you wanted me.” he laughs as his words become muffled in your hair.

You cringe at his words, hiding your face in your hands. “That’s so fucking embarrassing oh my god!”

“Yeah maybe it is, but there’s no limit I hope.”

“There will be if you’re gonna be annoying tomorrow,” you mention.

“Tomorrow? Was I that good?”

“Fuck off.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

authortv note: I WILL POST SOON, i’ve been so unmotivated to post so if you like this PLS PLS PLS let me know cause i need some motivation !! LOVE YOU SO MUCH !!

MERRY CHRISTMAS <333

[gabbytvclarke]

The dog and the postwoman

Part two here! ♥ Part three here! ♥ Part four here! ♥ Part five here!

• Pairing: Arthur TV x female!reader (Also friend!Bambino Becky and friend!George Clarke) • Summary: Y/n is a newish YouTuber who gets invited to join a ChrisMD pub golf video, alongside her newfound crush. The pair are subtly teased throughout by the other members, who ship them. • Slow burn fluff, strangers to friends to… something more? Lots of flirting, exchanged glances, light touches, almost-kisses. • Warnings: alcohol, swearing, innuendoes, mentions of vomit (not graphic at all) • Word count: 9,537 words

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

Commenter 1: omg did you see the way Arthur looked at y/n????? ↳ Commenter 2: Fr fr he was smitten

Commenter 3: get y/n and Arthur in a team next time Chris

Commenter 4: y/nTV is going to happen I’m calling it now!!!!!!

Just a few comments flooding in ChrisMD’s latest video, this one with yt/n’s pub golf debut:

Y/n was quite new to the content creator scene. She created a few vlogs and reaction videos here and there with little to no views, despite her efforts and good content. Her TikToks were the same. Until one day one YouTube video exploded, her subscriber count grew, alongside TikTok followers. All of a sudden one George Clarke would comment on one of her TikToks, and she slowly became good friends with him. Their friendship became more well known after guest starring on the Useless Hotline podcast. Following that, she collaborated with BambinoBecky on her own channel.

Through George and Max, y/n met ChrisMD and Arthur Hill, and that’s how she wound up on one of Chris’s pub golf videos.

There was no particular theme to this pub golf video, until the costumes came out of course. With Calfreezy as the usual referee, dressed in usual ref attire, the pairs and costumes were as follows:

Arthur TV and Chip in dog onesies, AKA ‘Bone Appetite’

ChrisMD and George in pickle costumes, AKA ‘Team Gherkings’

Y/n and Becky dressed as post-women, AKA ‘The Fe-mails’

This is y/n’s first time meeting Arthur, Cal, and Chip, but she was quite nervous about meeting the Arthur TV after he’d been so hyped up by George and Arthur Hill.

With Arthur turning up later (as usual) they didn’t get a chance to properly meet each other, aside from quick ‘hellos’ and name introductions before the filming began. If she was honest, y/n was always intrigued by Arthur, both from his content and the anecdotes she’d heard from George, Chris, and Arthur Hill. What she didn’t know was that Arthur was also very interested in meeting her, loving her content after being shown it by George and Chris on separate occasions. “You’d love her” they’d say.

When y/n and Becky pose for their team introduction in the video, y/n feels a little shy with the eyes and cameras on her in the open public, but she mentally prepared for this beforehand and perseveres. Becky has her arms folded, whereas y/n is holding some prop envelopes up whilst smiling at the camera. “That’s perfect!” Chris giggles. Stepping out of shot ready for Cal’s referee posing, y/n locks eyes with Arthur after feeling him looking, and almost immediately, Arthur diverts his gaze, embarrassed.

Chip and Arthur step in frame for their clip, Arthur’s eyes kept finding their way to y/n, which she swears she can see in the corner of her view while she chats with Becky. Y/n and Becky then turn to watch the boys, and y/n meets Arthur’s gaze again and this time, she gives him a small smile before he can look away. His eyebrows slightly raise for a brief moment before he grins back, his sweet eyes squinting. “Ready mate?” Chip suddenly asks him, snapping Arthur out of his short daze. They pose, Arthur softly smiling to the camera whilst Chip pants with his hands up T-Rex style, making Arthur laugh and shake his head. All of this gets caught in their slow-mo introduction footage, making it both charming and funny.

Arthur looks to y/n again, still chuckling, and was delighted to see that she too was laughing at Chip’s antics. ‘Good to know we have a similar sense of humour’, he thinks to himself.

“He fancies you I recon,” Becky whispers to y/n, giving her a smirk and a slight elbow nudge. Y/n turns to Becky, eyes widening.

“What- Who?” she replies. Although she knows who Becky meant, she is just baffled to hear it. Before Becky could repeat herself, Arthur and Chip join them, as George and Chris step up for their shot. Arthur steps next to y/n. Y/n scoffs at the ‘Gherkings’ as they both flex at the camera, finding their pose choice amusing despite their outfits. “Those divvies,” Arthur chuckles, adding to y/n’s amusement as he leans more towards her. She giggles and adds “Should’ve called themselves prick-les,” her comment eliciting a hearty laugh from Arthur. His elbow brushes against her upper arm as he leans back, catching her off guard as she realises how close they’re standing.

She feels her heart race as she smiles to the ground awkwardly, Arthur also looks down and takes a small step back, feeling his cheeks burn. Becky gives y/n another small nudge with her elbow as she lowly lets out an “Oi oi.”

“Guys,” Chris calls out, catching everyone’s attention, “we just have to do the one-to-one questions and then we’re ready to start!”

Chris is up first as the cameraman asks how drunk he’ll get. He gives his usual answer of saying he’ll be plastered. George is next, then Chip, then Arthur.

“Well, if we’re talking dog years, I’ll be drunk seven times sooner. Or later?” Arthur answers, giving a cheeky chuckle at the camera. Y/n overhears and smiles at his cute joke. She already thought he was cute in his videos, but seeing his behaviour in person just solidifies it.

Becky’s up next, saying she’ll smash it and proudly states that she’s a girl who can handle her drink. Y/n, not so much, realising what she’s got herself into as she steps up into shot. “How do you think you’ll fare today?” the cameraman asks.

“I’m a lightweight,” she starts, “but I’ll promise to deliver-“ then awkwardly laughs at her lame joke, hiding her face behind her prop envelope and shaking her head with embarrassment.

“Oh y/n!” Becky shouts, laughing herself, “And this is you sober, we’re screwed!” Y/n joins her teammate, whispering an awkward apology for what she just witnessed. Arthur on the other hand, finds her joke adorable. Becky puts an arm round her, about to say some reassurance before Chris calls to the group.

“Right, that’s all done,” he shouts, clasping his hands together, looking to the camera that just filmed their mini interviews, “let’s all head to the first pub.” The rest of the crew all grab their cameras and start recording as the group starts walking.

The pairs talk amongst themselves for a bit, mostly small talk while the camera crew get shots of them walking. Chris talks to one camera with George up ahead, leaving the Fe-Mails and Bone Appetite to gather together behind.

“So y/n,” Chip starts, “is this your first pub golf video?”

“Yeah it is,” y/n replies smiling, “this is my first collab out in the public too, and with this many people.” Chip and Arthur both nod. The camera man puts the camera on them, catching the conversation that follows.

“She’s a lightweight as well,” Becky chimes in, eliciting an ‘uh-oh’ from Chip. “She got tipsy on our video together and she barely drank!” Becky continues as the others chuckle.

“I remember seeing that!” Arthur adds with enthusiasm, looking to y/n as he walks his way closer to her. “I’m sorry but you’re not surviving today!”

The cameraman moves to Cal, who’s walking at the back to make sure no one falls over already or insults the crew, either action earning them a shot or a point for their team.

Knowing she’s off camera, Becky gently clasps her hand over the mic attached to her shirt collar and leans to y/n’s ear. “He definitely fancies you, Arthur does. I can tell,” she whispers with a grin. Y/n just shakes her head with a shy smile.

Chip and Arthur look behind to the girls whispering, then to each other, shrugging with confused smiles. They walk slightly further ahead and Chip looks over his shoulder at them. “The chemistry is mad already bro,” he quietly says to Arthur. Arthur looks at him and furrows his eyes in confusion.

“Those two?” he questions, leaning his head towards Chip to hear him better.

“No bro, you and y/n. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it.” He clarifies, giving Arthur a tap on his shoulder.

Before Arthur can attempt to protest, they reach the first pub. Taking seats outside, the teams sit opposite each other and Cal grabs himself a seat at the end of the table. On one side of the table is George, Arthur, and Becky; the other side dons Chris, Chip, and y/n. Y/n and Arthur are both silently thankful to not be sat together at first, as neither creator wants the other to feel any rising heat, especially after the conversations they both just had. Unfortunately for both of them, they realise they are right in each other’s line of sight, and the cameras might pick up on any awkward exchanged glances.

The pints are brought to the table by a couple of crew members, with one pint placed in front of each participant. “Right, the rules for the first game are simple,” Cal bellows to the camera facing him, “Each player must down as much of their pint as possible within 10 seconds. The pair with the most beer drank gets 1 point, the next team gets two points, and the slowest drinkers earn 3 points.” The cameramen capture shots of the creators listening to the rules and close-up shots of the beers. Cal continues: “If a player spills any drink, fall over, or pukes, they earn either an additional point or can instead take a shot as a forfeit.”

The girls go first, Becky downing her drink almost perfectly. She leaves a little foam at the bottom, and Chip and Arthur try arguing that the drink is incomplete, but Cal allows it to count as an empty drink. Y/n wraps her hand around her glass, looking to Becky as she says “I’m so sorry,” with a sheepish smile before gulping as much as she can, leaving the pint glass with about a third of beer left when her 10 seconds are up. She sets her glass down and wipes her lips, frowning and shaking her head at the bitter flavour.

“We’ve got this in the bag bro!” Arthur chuckles as he smirks to Chip, giving him a hi-five.

“Yeah, you’re shit y/n!” Chip joins in, causing the table to laugh at his sudden unnecessary comment.

“Woah, manners Chip!” George retorts.

“Rude!” Becky shouts, feigning an offended face to Chip.

“No offence y/n!” Arthur adds with a cheeky grin, locking eyes with her. She secretly adores hearing him say her name.

“None taken Arthur,” she returns with a big smile, Arthur feeling his face burn, also loving the way his name rolls off her tongue.

The dogs are next up to play. Arthur goes first, using his two handed grip and only just downing the pint in one within the time limit, leaving no foam behind. Chip hi-fives him again, shouting “Yes brother!” Arthur proudly beams, looking down at his lap before his eyes quickly dart up to y/n, seeing she’s smiling whilst still looking at his completely empty pint glass. “Here we go, bone appetite!” Chip declares as he downs his drink, leaving just a small amount at the bottom of the glass.

“Well we’ve lost then!” Becky laughs, faking anger and slamming her hands in the table. Y/n is about to protest before realising George’s turn is next and he’s a drinking machine. George confidently grasps his drink. “Ah we’re cooked!” Chip murmurs to Arthur. George effortlessly gulps his drink down with 3 seconds to spare, cockily exhaling as he slams his glass down.

Chris is up next, gesturing a cheers towards George before downing his pint. “Look at the way he grips that thaing!” Arthur calls out in a slight accent, causing Chris to jerk his head forward to giggle and spill a couple of drops of beer onto the table. “Oh! Spillage!” Arthur shouts gleefully as he points at the new stains. Cal looks to Chris with his mouth open and the camera zooms in on the table. Chip and y/n are laughing as Becky shouts “Waaay!”. Both Chris and George argue with Cal that it’s unfair for them to get penalised as Arthur made him laugh. Cal coldly looks to them both and states “Spill’s a spill Chris, do you want to take a shot or a pint.”

Chris rolls his eyes and asks for a shot. Amongst the spilling drama, Chris didn’t finish his pint, leaving it half empty and starting off the scores as:

Bone Appetite: 1 point

The Fe-Mails: 2 points

Gherkings: 3 points

As the group head off to the next pub, Arthur jogs his way up to y/n. “I’m sorry for my comment before,” he starts, smiling at the floor sheepishly, “when you finished your drink.”

“Oh that’s okay, I didn’t take offence to either of you, don’t worry!” Y/n replies, giggling quietly at his sweet apology.

“OK, good!” Arthur chuckles, feeling relieved, “I have a habit of dishing out insults when I…” he stops himself for a second, “get to know someone.” he ends, thinking on his feet.

Y/n shrugs, trying to look nonchalant, “I enjoy the banter, I’m the same.” She replies.

Arthur beams as he looks to his crush. “I see, what else do you enjoy?” They start exchanging interests, followed by facts about science, animals, anything really as they continue leading the group towards their next destination.

Behind them, Chip and Becky walk with George. “Bro’s in love” Chip says as he gestures ahead, a little too loud, but the pair at the front are in their own world and don’t hear. Becky and George agree, giggling. “I think she feels the same way,” Becky replies with a genuine smile.

Behind the trio, Cal and Chris are being filmed from behind while they talk, the angle capturing all the players in one frame.

Chip jogs forward to join Arthur and y/n. “What are you two nerds yappin’ about?” he asks them as he wraps an arm round Arthur’s shoulder.

“Nerds?!” Arthur fake cries.

Simultaneously, y/n replies with “Space,” with a grin. A crew member joins to record them, walking backwards ahead of them, capturing the three in frame.

“Nice. Y/n, you feelin’ lightheaded yet?” Chip directs towards her, leaning forwards to look past Arthur. Arthur turns his head to her too, intrigued.

“Honestly, a little,” y/n replies.

“REALLY?” Arthur exclaims. His eyes widely looking down at her, his lips curled up a little. “Goodness, you really are a lightweight!”

Y/n laughs, “Yeah, it’s bad isn’t it. I feel bad for Becky really!”

“‘Least we’re guaranteed second place ey bro?” Chip says, tightening his grip round Arthur’s shoulder.

“You’re not wrong there!” Arthur chuckles

“You boys are mean!” Y/n retorts playfully.

The group reaches the second pub. Outside there are only tables of four. Y/n and Becky sit opposite each other first. Arthur and Chip join them. This time, Arthur bravely sits beside y/n, their arms touching. Y/n looks at their arms, observing the closeness. She begins feeling wary of the cameras and doesn’t want to come across as having a schoolgirl crush (which wouldn’t be wrong). As the others take their seats and chat, Arthur notices y/n’s slight change in demeanour and bumps her gently with his arm. “You okay?” he whispers as he leans his face towards hers, hoping his quiet words reach her ear and no one else’s.

She thinks fast, “I’m all good thanks, just dreading what we’ll be put through next,” she awkwardly giggles, turning her head to look at him only to almost brush noses. She didn’t initially realise how close his face was when he whispered just before. They both go wide eyed and lean away from each other, Arthur clearing his throat and sheepishly apologising, looking to his lap with a small smile. “You’re all good” y/n quietly giggles in response, looking down too, to avoid any risk of someone seeing her definitely reddening cheeks.

“So, in this round, each team member has to feed the drink to their teammate.” The pairs glare at each other, y/n and Becky giving each other a nod. Cal continues: “One player must stand with their hands on their hips, as their teammate stands behind them, with their arms through the player’s arms,” he manhandles Chris for demonstration. Turning Chris around and forcing his hands on his hips, Cal then loops his hands through as if his arms are now Chris’s and mimes holding a drink up to Chris’s lips. This earns nods amongst the other players, followed by ‘oh’s. “They then switch,” Cal explains further, “And the team with the lowest collective time it takes to finish their drinks, gains the least amount of points.”

George and Chris go first. “Here we go, turn around darling” George smirks to Chris as he spins him by his hips. Chris giggles high pitched, flapping his arms in a fake shy manner, causing the others to laugh. They do a terrible job, Chris keeps pulling his head away from the pint glass to tell George off for pouring too fast. “Shut up and take it!” George kept replying, giving the female viewers more treats with his choice of wording. It takes them just under a minute for Chris to finish his drink.

They switch, George offering Chris a hand. When Chris looks to him confused, George says: “I thought you’d want help climbing onto the bench so you can reach around me properly.” The group chuckle, including Chris as he rolls his eyes. They do better this way around, but mostly due to George’s drinking skills.

The other teams watch on from their table. Arthur leaning past y/n slightly so he can get a good view. She can feel his breath slightly fanning on the back of her ear, but team Gherking’s entertaining performance is distracting enough for her to not get too flustered. Chip gives Becky a subtle “Oop” and when she turns back to look at him, he gestures his head towards y/n and Arthur. From their angle, the pair are sat so close. Arthur’s elbow is resting on the table, his hand sat next to y/n’s side. His upper body is twisted toward her, his chest slightly pressed to her right shoulder. Any public onlookers would assume they’re a couple. Becky looks back to Chip and rolls her eyes with a beaming smile. Their chemistry already was undeniable, although a bit of liquid confidence may be part of the reason.

Arthur and Chip are next, stepping into shot. Chip stands behind Arthur as Cal passes a pint to him. “Uh Chip, what’s that in your pocket?” Arthur jokingly asks.

“You don’t wanna know bro” Chip replies. They do a fantastic job, Chip very gently tilting the pint more and more as Arthur gulps. Already he drinks the pint twice as fast as George and Chris’s first go. They switch places.

“What’s that massive thing poking my ass?” Chip shouts, turning to y/n and giving her a subtle wink with a smirk, being careful to not get caught by any of the cameras.

“Oh my word!” Arthur calls out in shock, followed by a chuckle as he shakes his head. Y/n laughs as she leans her head down into her arms resting on the table. She’s terrified of the cameras picking up any possible redness in her face. The pair do a great job again, their tactic was slow and steady after watching George rush Chris. They did miles better.

It’s the girls’ turn, Becky taking position behind y/n first. “Give us a hum or something if I’m pouring too fast hun,” Becky instructs in her ear. Y/n nods with a determined grin. Arthur looks on at y/n’s physique, as he hadn’t been able to look before. She carries herself confidently yet she’s humble, something he finds so attractive. The pair do an amazing job and then switch places. “Y/n your ass is very soft and squishy!” Becky exclaims, patting her on the back for finishing the pint quite fast.

“This old thing?” Y/n jokingly replies, looking back to Becky and sticks her butt out slightly towards her. The drinks may be going to her head already. They both laugh as y/n giggles out an apology as Becky shakes her head. “Oh my…” Arthur quietly says to himself as he turns to Chip, being sure not to allow himself to stare, instead he locks eyes with his smirking teammate.

Y/n stands behind Becky and takes the pint from Cal. Y/n leans forward, her head just above Becky’s shoulder so she can watch Becky’s face and pour based on her expression. “Looks like she’s pouring based on Becky’s swallows, good tactic!” Cal calls out. Arthur watches on, taking into account y/n’s care to Becky. Chip leans over the table. “She’s clever and caring bro, wife her up!” Chip whispers. Arthur exhales a laugh through his nose at Chips words, he slightly shakes his head but doesn’t take his eyes off y/n.

The Fe-Mails finish the fastest, against all odds. Chris blames George for pouring too fast and George retorts by saying Chris whined too much. The scores now as follows:

Bone Apetit: 3 points

The Fe-Mails: 3 points

Gherkings: 6 points

The next pub isn’t too far away, about a four minute walk. Chris runs up ahead of George, Arthur, and Chip to reach y/n who is walking alongside Becky and Cal. “So y/n, how are you finding pub golf so far?” he asks, with a camerman walking alongside them.

“I’m really enjoying it so far thanks,“ she starts, “it’s been really fun and everyone’s so nice.”

“Oh yeah, you haven’t met some of the guys before. Cal, Arthur, and Chip right? Alongside the crew?” Chris replies.

“Oop, Chris just said your name” Chip teases Arthur quietly. Arthur looks up ahead of him to see Chris and y/n talking in front of a camera while walking. “You two are really getting on aren’t you, you and y/n?” he adds, patting Arthur on the back.

“Yeah, she’s really nice,” he smiles as he whispers, “She’s just like she is in her videos, not that I thought she wouldn’t be or anything.”

“Yeah, I’d been watching her stuff for a while and before even meeting her, I thought that you guys should meet,” George chimes in, joining Arthur’s other side. “You’re both awkward and nerdy and funny, two peas in a pod really.”

“Really?” Arthur enquires, quite loud, and the boys shush him as y/n and Chris are only a couple of metres ahead and could’ve heard.

They arrive at the third pub already, but there were no seats outside available, so they all squeeze into a round booth inside, with Cal in the middle. From left to right is Becky, Chris, Chip, Cal, George, Arthur, and y/n.

A tray full of shots gets placed on the round table. Cal explains to the camera that this round is an alphabet game where starting with Arthur, they’ll take turns clockwise naming something within a category, from A-Z. Whoever hesitates or says a word starting with the wrong letter, they need to drink a shot. A shot in this game earns a point for the team. The first round is dog breeds, matching Chip and Arthur’s costumes. It goes as follows:

Arthur: “Alsatian”

Y/n: “Bulldog”

Becky: “Chihuahua”

Chris: “Uhh… Dalmatian!”

Chip: “Errr…”

“Hesitation!” Chris and Cal both shout. Chip puts his head in his hands and groans. He picks up a shot and shouts “I can’t think of any dogs starti’ with E!”

“English bull terrier!” Arthur calls, gesturing fake-angrily, “It’s OUR theme!”

“Aw man!” Chip replies as he downs his shot. Arthur chuckles, turning to look at y/n who’s also enjoying the antics. Arthur doesn’t notice at first, but his leg is pressed against y/n’s, mostly due to George manspreading.

George turns to Arthur, “That’s handy, I couldn’t think of a dog beginning with F either,” he chuckled, shrugging.

“A Frenchie?” Y/n replied, leaning forward past Arthur.

“Yeah, a French bulldog, y/n literally said ‘bulldog’ and basically gave that to you!” Arthur laughs, as he nudges y/n.

Round two is fruit and vegetables, based on team Gherkings. Starting with Chip, the game begins:

Chip: “Avocado! Yes!”

George: “B…Banana”

Arthur: “Cantaloupe”

Y/n: “Dragon fr-“

“Brother that’s an animal!” Chip interrupts, pointing at Arthur.

“Cantaloupe?” George asks with both surprise and a smirk as the group laughs.

“You’re thinking of an antelope!” Arthur calls back.

“You’re on the same team!” Chris chortles.

“Y/n, hesitation!” Cal exclaims.

Y/n’s jaw drops, Arthur looks to her in surprise.

“That’s not fair!” Y/n retorts.

“Yeah, she started talking but Chip interrupted” Becky adds.

“To be fair, she said ‘dragon fruit’, I heard her.” Arthur claims, matter of factly as he leans back and puts a hand on y/n’s shoulder, giving it a pat.

“I didn’t hear her, did anyone else hear her besides Arthur?” Cal asks the group.

“I didn’t.” George answers, smugly, shooting a grin towards y/n.

“I did!” Becky adds.

“Well that’s bollocks,” Chris states as he crosses his arms, “if George didn’t hear it, you’re not gonna hear it from all the way over there!”

“George is lying!” “Because George is lying” y/n and Arthur exclaim at the same time.

George sarcastically presses a hand to his heart, feigning a hurt expression.

“That settles it, y/n hesitated.” Cal finalises, smacking the table like a judge with a gavel. George picks up a shot and hands it to y/n “Drink up,” he grins. She takes the shot from him as she narrows her eyes at him.

“Fine, but this means war.” she jokingly murmurs before taking the shot, disgusted by the aftertaste.

“Well done,” Arthur says, leaning back to touch her shoulder again, giving it a squeeze as he grins at her.

The third round is items you’d find in a post office. “Chip, as you interrupted y/n last round, you can start.” Cal states.

Chips stutters, “A…analytics, like sheets of analytics and data and stuff!”

“Absolutely not.” Chris says.

“Boxes!” George shouts, not taking any chances.

“I’m sorry, no.” Chris continues.

“Chris, if you continue interrupting and time wasting, you’ll need to take a shot.” Cal states. The game continues:

Arthur: “Calendar”

Y/n: “Desk!”

Becky: “Eeeeenvelopes”

Chris: “Ummm… F…”

“Hesitation!” Cal shouts, slamming the table again as the others join in shouting.

“Uh, fine!” Chris groans as he downs a shot, sticking his tongue out and shaking his head. “Bloody awful.”

“So, each team has one point each?” George questions, “Well that game was fucking pointless then!”

Cal nods, pretending to be deeply disappointed in everyone. “I was worried this would happen,” he starts, “So we have one more round!”

The cameras whip around everyone as ‘ooh’s echo throughout. The final round was for countries. “Chris, you start.”

Chris: “Argentina”

Chip: “Belgium“

George: “China”

Arthur: “Denmark”

Y/n: “England”

Becky: “… France”

Chris: “Germany”

Chip: “Hhhhhungary!”

George (laughing): “Iceland”

Arthur: “Japan”

Y/n: “Um… Kazakhstan”

Becky: “L…ondon!”

“No!” Y/n cries out, belly laughing as she puts her head in her hands. Arthur laughs along with her and pats her on the back.

“I’m sorry, I panicked!” Becky calls out, immediately grabbing a shot and drinking as Cal shouts: “Incorrect!”

“‘London’” Chris quietly says to himself as he chuckles.

“Don’t worry Becks, I thought London too,” Chip leans forward, calling to Becky who had her head on the table.

The scores at the end of this game are:

Bone Appetite: 4

The Fe-Mails: 5

Gherkings: 7

As the group stand up from the booth, the drinks are starting to get to the group’s heads. “Fuckin’ ‘ell!” Becky shouts, wobbling as she carefully steps out of the booth, Chris getting up behind her with his arms outreached ready to catch her if she falls. Y/n gets up and stumbles slightly, catching herself on the table. Arthur smiles and reaches out to her at the same time. “Woah, careful there!” he chuckles.

Heading to the next pub, Chip loses his footing off the curb, his ankle buckling as he drops to the floor. He’s totally fine and just lays there laughing as Becky and Chris immediately head over to help him up, also cackling. “Oop! Was that a fall there Chip?” Cal questions, pointing at the obviously collapsed man on the floor.

“No…” Chip replies as he’s pulled to his feet.

“Do you want a point for the team or a shot at the next pub?” Cal asks.

“Point. No, shot!” Chip shouts.

“I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to go for your first answer,” Cal states, “One extra point to Bone Appetite!” Arthur shakes his head with a small snigger as he walks beside Cal, a camera pointing at them both.

George is walking alongside y/n, at the front of the group. “Having a good time?” He asks. A little tipsy, she giggles.

“I really am, thanks for getting me on here.” She beams. George grins back.

“I’m glad. And I must say, you’ve made an astonishing first impression.” He states.

“Really?”

“Yep, I’ve seen the crew laugh at some of your jokes. Chip thinks you’re proper nice, and don’t get me started on Arthur.” George elaborates.

Y/n looks to George shyly, “What d’you mean?”

“What’s that?” Arthur asks as he darts ahead to join George and y/n, walking on the other side of her.

“Nothing bad Television, I was just telling y/n what a good impression she’s made already today with her pub golf debut.” George calmly explains. Arthur nods, looking to y/n with a sweet smile.

“You really have!” He adds, his beam so wide his eyes close. “You’ll definitely be asked to join again. If not by Chris, which would make him an idiot, but by the viewers.”

Y/n gets bashful. “Aw, thanks!” She replies.

“And I certainly want you to join again,” Arthur continues, looking y/n in the eyes with a genuine smile.

“Yeah, because you’re terrible and give us a good boost.” George adds, sporting a childish smirk before then drifting back to join the others behind them.

“He’s such an idiot sometimes, ignore him.” Arthur whispers, “His team’s losing anyway.”

Reaching the fourth pub, more shots were purchased for the players. They stand around a circular table outside as Cal announces the rules: Each player must down their shot, with their hands behind their back and only using their mouth to lift the glass. Any spills, leftover drink, or using hands earns the player’s team a point.

Chris goes first and accidentally leaves a little drink at the bottom. Chip and Arthur scream for Cal to penalise him while George squeezes his nose bridge in half-joking frustration. Cal gives team Gherkings a point for not finishing the shot. Becky’s next and completes her shot with ease. “Piece of piss!” She gloats while pointing at the camera. Chip’s next and being giggly and tipsy, he giggles mid-drink and spits the glass out. The drink spills everywhere and the shot glass bounces off the table and shatters on the floor. Arthur clasps his hands to his head, “What are you doing?” He exclaims.

“That’s two points for Bone Appetite, not just for spilling but for breaking a glass!” Cal calls. Arthur playfully shakes Chip by the shoulders with gritted teeth. Chip just giggles. Becky pumps a fist in the air and hi-fives y/n, as they both realise they’re in first place now.

George takes his shot just fine, followed by Arthur. Y/n watches Arthur’s lips around the glass, feeling a little flustered as he furrows his eyebrows in concentration. Arthur drinks his shot just fine too. Y/n’s last and also has the giggles, nervous she’ll make the same mistake as Chip. “Calm yourself babes, focus!” Becky cheers on. Y/n clasps her hands behind her lower back and leans forward, gripping the shot glass with her lips. George looks to Arthur, raising his eyebrows and pressing his lips together, luckily both are out of view of the cameras. Arthur clears his throat awkwardly and locks eyes with George. “Oh grow up” Arthur quietly murmurs, rolling his eyes with a playful smile. Although he can’t deny, he’s starting to break a sweat.

Y/n lifts the glass and tilts her head back fine, but Chip then makes a fake orgasm moan which causes her to laugh. Unlike Chip however, she leans forward and the drink lands back in the shot glass, and she places it back on the table with her mouth. “What the hell Chip?” She calls out, chortling as she stood straight again.

“One point to the Fe-Mails!” Cal declares.

With that round over, the scores are:

The Fe-Mails: 6

Bone Appetite: 7

Gherkings: 8

Heads are starting to spin from the last few shots, and it shows in all the players now. Chris in particular is struggling, groaning as he walks along with the group on the way to the penultimate pub. “Chris, if you chunder you get a point for each spew!” Cal calls to him from the back of the group.

“Fuck off, we’re losing anyway!” Chris shouts back.

“Only by one point, you idiot!” George snaps at his suffering teammate. Cal looks to the camera with fake outrage.

“Did he just disrespect the ref?”, the cameraman made the camera nod. He turns back to the group and puts a hand either side of his mouth. “One point to team Gherkings for disrespecting the ref!”

The girls are also struggling, clinging onto each other as y/n’s steps in particular become gradually more wobbled as they waddle alongside George. Arthur chuckles from behind them. “Wow, you really ARE bad at this y/n!” he calls. She’s too busy concentrating on not falling over to fight back with a witty comment and just giggles.

Reaching the fifth pub, they realise there are no chairs available inside or out, so the crew go to the bar to grab the drinks while the players head back out the pub entrance and all stand on the street. Cal hands Becky and y/n a pint each. “Try not to spew this one back in the glass this time y/n!” Arthur sniggers, his liquid courage getting to him. Becky gives him a middle finger and Chip chuckles.

“Don’t start with me Arthur or I’ll spew on you!” Y/n retorts, not her best comeback but she’s beyond tipsy at this point.

“He’d probably like that,” George whispers under his breath, making Chris cackle.

This round is pretty simple, one teammate needs to feed the other as much of a pint as possible within 10 seconds. If any teammate finishes the pint before the 10 seconds, the team gets one point deducted from their score. Becky and y/n go first, Becky doing the pouring for y/n. “Just squeeze my shoulder if you want me to slow down yeah?” Becky explains, “I’ve seen the others do it before.”

Y/n nods, putting her arm around Becky and resting on her shoulder. “I’ve seen it too, good plan.” She replies. Remarkably, y/n manages almost all the pint, following Becky’s suggestion. The boys cheer her as it’s the best performance y/n has done so far. They swap places and Becky puts her arm around y/n. Watching on from the side, chip slaps Arthur’s back. “Bet you’d love to put your arm around y/n like that wouldn’t you?” He whispers. George, standing the other side chimes in, making quiet kissy noises. Arthur presses his hand to his brow bone and giggles to himself. “You guys are too much, seriously.”

“Honestly mate, she seems into you, she’d probably let you.” Chris adds, standing in front of the boys but hearing everything. He turns to look at Arthur, so he can see Chris is being genuine.

“I don’t know her that well, but for the time I’ve known her, she hasn’t radiated this much with anyone as she’s done with you.” George adds, also using a legitimate tone. Patting Arthur on the back.

Y/n tips the glass for Becky, the whole time watching her face and paying close attention to the hand on her shoulder. “Yes Becky” she quietly chants throughout the 10 seconds, but sadly Becky also doesn’t finish the whole pint in time. Next up are Bone Appetite, Chip deeply suffering as he barely downs half the pint before stopping and trying not to vomit. The boys shouting their fair shares of ‘uh oh’s, trying to make Chip feel worse. Chip doubles over and braces himself. Arthur stands beside him, “Seriously, you alright mate?” He asks calmly.

Chris stands beside y/n, a crew member filming them both. “I thought you’d be the first to go y/n,” he chuckles. Looking back over as the onesie wearers are both leaning against the wall. Y/n giggles, watching Arthur be a supportive friend and melting a little internally.

“Same here honestly” she replies, eliciting a laugh from Chris. Arthur and Chip step back into shot. Arthur pats his back lightly as Chip nods, confirming he’s okay to continue.

Chip begins pouring the drink into Arthur’s mouth. Y/n watching on as Arthur confidently gestures up with his spare arm so Chip can pour faster. Arthur remarkably finishes the pint, reducing their team’s point by one. The other players applaud, y/n is impressed, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “You’re drooling” George whispers as he leans into her and winks, he and Chris making their way in front of the camera for their turn. Arthur and Chip cross them, Chip heading inside because he needs a ‘massive slash’ and Arthur joining y/n.

Y/n is stood leaning against the wall as Arthur stands beside her, his arm reached out and hand behind her, pressed against the wall. Shuffling her feet as she watches the Gherkings have their turn, she steps back slightly and the back of her neck meets Arthur’s arm. “Oh, sorry,” she awkwardly whispers to him, letting out a small giggle. Arthur tuts with a faint smile.

“Don’t be silly!” He whispers as he moves his lips closer to her ear, reaching his hand round to squeeze her shoulder a little, before returning it back to the wall. He catches her smiling to herself as he returns his gaze back to George and Chris, and he can’t stop himself from beaming either.

George pouring into Chris’s mouth didn’t go well, only managing half the pint. When they swap however, George also manages to finish his pint. They lose a point for their team, the Fe-Mails being the only team whose score stays the same. The scores at the end of this round are:

The Fe-Mails: 6

Bone Apetit: 6

Gherkings: 7

The gang head off to the last pub, wobblier than ever. Chris and Arthur are busy keeping Chip afloat, neither of them holding themselves too well either. George has his arms around Becky and y/n, he himself being the most sober of the players. “Look at George, Arthur, and Chris. Chivalrous as ever.” Cal says to the camera with a grin. They all pile into the pub, situating at a six-seater table. Cal pulls up a stool at the end again. Chris, Arthur, and Chip head down one side of the table and Becky, y/n, and George move down the other. Y/n sits opposite Arthur, but luckily she’s already flushed from the drinks.

“Okay guys, it’s the final game of the night!” Cal begins as the cameras focus on the table. He explains the rules: each team has a cocktail pitcher that they have to pour into their glasses and drink until the pitcher is empty. Fastest drinking team wins.

Bone Appetite go first, Arthur drinking more than Chip, but they manage to finish the pitcher in under a minute. Next is Becky and y/n. Y/n sniffs the pitcher and shudders. “I don’t think I’ll keep this stuff down Becky” she chuckles, embarrassed.

“Aw, you’ll be alright, I can take more drink if you want!” Becky replies, to which y/n nods. The boys look on with excitement, The Fe-Mails essentially one man down, all except Arthur. Despite wearing a smile to fit the others, deep down he can’t help but worry for y/n, not wanting her to spew on camera in her first ChrisMD video appearance. However, Becky sticks to her promise and takes the heavier load and they complete their turn, although slightly slower than Bone Appetite. Y/n pauses for a moment, a clenched fist held to her mouth. The gang stop to watch her, making sure she doesn’t spew but after a few seconds, she composes herself. “Phew, I’m fine!” She smiles. Becky and the boys relax.

Although it doesn’t seem like Chris is holding up too well either, as George drags their pitcher to rest in between them. “Chin up dearest,” George starts, “we got a game to win.”

Chris lets out a low burp into his hand, groaning out an “Oh god” that’s barely audible. Arthur excitedly looks to Chip, then to Becky and y/n, his eyes wide and lips pursed in an ‘ooh’ shape.

They start, but George quickly takes the lead as Chris struggles. As soon as he finishes his glass, Chris makes a dash from the table, leaving George and the rest to watch on in shock. “I won’t give him a point for vomiting just yet.” Cal chuckles. George turns his attention back to the pitcher, well aware that that they’re still against the clock, and pours himself a glass to continue. Remarkably, he finishes the entire pitcher’s worth and catches up to the girls’ time but wasn’t able to beat Chip and Arthur.

With the final game over, George excuses himself to check on his teammate, and the others talk amongst themselves. As Arthur talks with Chip, he gestures his hand a little too fast, knocking a glass of half melted ice over, the cold water spilling across the table, and dripping onto y/n’s lap. “Oh no!” He cries, eyes wide open as he clasps his hands to his mouth in horror. Y/n yelps at the sudden coldness but soon laughs it off.

“Spillage!” Becky shouts, pointing from the table to y/n while staring directly at Cal.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Shit.” Arthur mumbles, “Let me get you some napkins!” He gets up and rushes away.

“Surely that doesn’t count as a spillage, the drink was all drink up- drunk up,” Chip tries reasoning with Cal.

“Nope, still a spill. A drink was spilled Chip!” Cal quips back in an authoritative but jokey tone. “One point to Bone Appetite!”

Arthur reappears at the table, retaking his seat and passing y/n a scrunched up bundle of napkins as she stands up ready to wipe herself.

“Thank you, good boy!” She giggles as she half-drunkenly leans over pats Arthur on the head, then proceeding to dab her trousers. Arthur looks super surprised at first, as Chip and Becky chortle, before breaking out into laughter himself.

“Brother I’m sorry, you got us a point but your face just then was so worth it!” Chip chuckles. Y/n sits back down, using the remainder of the napkins to dry the table. Arthur feeling all too aware that he may be blushing after being called a ‘good boy’ by the hottest girl he’s ever met, turns his head away from the table, nonchalantly saying “Where are the pickle boys?” to avoid the cameras picking up on any redness in his face. Luckily for him, they both appear from round the corner and return to the table. Sitting down and tucking their chairs in, Chris looks to Cal and bluntly says “Yeah, I threw up” with sheepish look, then he looks to the camera and sighs. George pretends to smell Chris’s bad breath and wafts his hand, then chuckles.

“One point to team Gherkings!” Cal starts, “And with that, the final scores are…” the players begin to smack their hands on the table for a drum roll. “In third place with 11 points is team Gherkings!” the other two teams clap as Chris put his hand to his chest and makes a faint bow. George puts his head down, smirking and gesturing at a very pale Chris, murmuring an “Obviously.”

“And now for first place… it’s a tie between Bone Appetite and The Fe-Mails!” Cal finishes. The table exchange a few ‘oohs’. “I thought this may happen,” Cal continues, “Therefore we have a tie breaker to determine first and second place!”

All of a sudden, two crew members approach the table with four baby Guinnesses, placing one in front of each of the tied team members.

“Oh god, I can’t drink anymore.” Chip whines, eliciting a low laugh from the table.

“I’m not sure if I can either.” Becky adds.

“Each team member will drink their baby Guinness, the faster of both teams will then compete in an arm wrestle.” Cal explains.

“Okay.” Y/n says to herself, determined, her hand ready on her small glass. She had assumed her team would’ve come last because of her, so beating George gave her some encouragement.

“Three-two-one-go!” Cal suddenly shouts very fast, hoping to throw them all off.

Chip doesn’t even move, he remains staring at his baby Guinness in defeat with his hands on his lap.

“Oh, fuck!” Becky calls out, quickly reaching for her drink and downing it. However y/n and Arthur had already finished theirs within just over a second.

Cal claps his hands together and declares: “Arthur and y/n win the race! Get ready to arm wrestle.” They lock eyes and reposition themselves ready. Both feeling a little heated from the eye contact, but they know it’ll make for good shots for the video.

“Get him, y/n!” Becky cheers.

“Don’t go easy on her Arthur!” Chip chants, patting Arthur on the back. The pair rest their elbows on the table and clasp hands, immediately feeling electricity from the contact, and hoping the spark isn’t visible on camera.

“You’re toe-ing… you’re going to do a Fe-FAIL!” Arthur stammers, the baby Guinness going straight to his head. The players laugh, including himself. Y/n cackles with her head down. Arthur squeezes her hand slightly to bring her attention back to the game. She lifts her head back up, locking eyes with him again and attempting a deadpan face. “Someone mute this TV, it-“ but she bursts out laughing before finishing her sentence. Arthur lets out a ‘pfft’ laugh, leaning his head back and squinting his eyes together.

“This is painful,” Chris chuckles, rubbing circles into his eyes with his hands.

“Indeed it is,” Cal adds, “Ready? Start on ‘go’.” The pair’s eyes meet again, y/n slightly turns her wrist to make the wrestle harder for Arthur and gives him a small squeeze. Arthur bites his lip and furrows his brows in response, staring at their connected hands. Y/n is seemingly unaware of just how strong Arthur with his sleeper build, although she’d never tell Arthur (or anyone for that matter) that she’s seen a lot of edits where he is shirtless.

“Three, two, one, go!” Cal calls. Immediately y/n seems to have the upper hand for a few seconds, Arthur’s hand mere inches from the table. Chris and Chip cheer Arthur on, telling him to pick up the slack. Meanwhile, George and Becky chant y/n’s name and smack the table in rhythm. Arthur’s face is contorted as he struggles, watching y/n as she stares at their hands. As soon as she glances back at Arthur, he suddenly smirks and slams her hand down on the table. “Oh my god!” Chip calls out, perking up and slamming his fists on the table with excitement.

“Outstanding. Arthur wins the arm wrestle, which means Bone Appetite wins this video’s pub golf with 7 points!” Cal declares gesturing to his right at the champions. Y/n’s still staring at Arthur with a wide mouth and still with her hand pinned down under Arthur’s. One cameraman zooms in to capture Chip and Arthur’s celebratory reaction, as Chip shakes Arthur’s shoulders and cheers until his voice breaks. Only then does Arthur realise he’s still holding y/n’s hand, giving her hand a couple of small squeezes again before letting go and giving Chip a hug.

Y/n smiles and pulls her hand away to applaud the winners with a smile, alongside the other players. Cal then turns to the girls. “And well done to The Fe-Mails, second place with 8 points!” He exclaims before clapping. Y/n and Becky both let out some ‘woop’s before throwing their prop envelopes in the air like confetti. Arthur and Chip then clap for them.

“Aw commiserations ladies” Chip taunts the girls, his clapping slowing but increasing in volume as he sticks out his bottom lip.

“Ah shut up you, you barely did anything!” Becky retorts.

“Yeah,” y/n joins in, pushing his baby Guinness closer to him. He fake gags and presses his head into Arthur’s neck.

“They’re bullying me Arthur!” He cries against him.

“Not gonna lie, you kind of deserved it,” Arthur replies giggling, watching y/n laugh.

The crew head outside to do their final clips, one by one they partake in the same interview they did before the pub golf games started. The question being a slight variation: ‘How did you fare today?’

Chris’s answer validates his answer at the beginning. Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he chuckles and bluntly answers: “We did shit.”

George’s answer is a stark contrast against his initial confident response. “I would’ve won if it wasn’t for that hobbit” he jokingly states with his arms crossed, his head gesturing towards his paling teammate.

Chip’s nonchalant ‘we’ll do alright I think’ from before was also very different to his new response: “We fucking smashed it, I knew we would!”

Arthur sticks to his dog theme with his answer. “We had fun and were the winners, in dog years this means we had seven times the fun… and seven times the wins” he exclaims with a big smile.

“I think we did fantastic, we would’ve won if it were me doing the arm wrestle, but we still smashed it!” Becky answers, confident as ever, pumping a fist towards the camera.

Lastly is y/n’s final answer. “I bloody loved it,” she chuckles, “I had the best time with the best people, I… had the best time!”

Chris struggles to get through the outro for the video while the others stand either side of him, smiling. The film crew stop recording and put their kits away, all heading back into the pub to have their own drinks, and the players follow them. Chris and Cal sit at a long table with their crew, whereas George, Chip, Becky, Arthur, and y/n head towards booth beside them. Arthur gestures for y/n to slide into the bench first, and he follows suit. Opposite them slides in Chip and George. “Guys my uber is here!” Becky announces. She says her goodbyes to everyone, calling y/n her partner in crime as y/n leans across the table to give her a hi-five. Arthur looks down to his lap shyly as y/n’s face was dangerously close to his during Becky’s farewell. “Have fun y/n” she says in a suggestive tone, before winking at her and leaving the pub. Y/n giggles to herself and readjusts her position.

“What was that about, why’d she say that like that?” Arthur asks y/n, his head tilted and leans closer towards y/n, narrowing his eyes with intrigue.

“Oh, that’s… nothing, she’s just being silly!” Y/n awkwardly replies, unclipping her mic from her collar to put in her pocket.

“Hmm… yeah…” Arthur murmurs, still looking at her suspiciously, but realising he’s still wearing his mic and removes his too. “I’ll give these back to Chris, do you want a drink? Anyone?” Arthur asks, directing the notion to the whole booth.

“I’ll just have a water please,” y/n answers.

“Me too,” George adds.

“If I drink anything else, I’ll fucking die.” Chip murmurs.

“Okay, three waters, I’ll be right back.” Arthur takes the mic packs and heads to Chris’s table. George leans towards y/n with his elbows on the table and his chin resting in his hands.

“Enjoyed the arm wrestle didn’t we?” He teases. Chip copies George’s pose, also awaiting y/n’s reply.

“Actually my wrist hurts now,” y/n awkwardly replies, rubbing her wrist.

“That’s not what I meant, don’t think I didn’t see you two still holding hands way after the arm wrestle was over!” George replies.

“Really?” Chip remarks, “Guess I was too busy celebrating to notice!”

Y/n eyes widen. “You don’t think the cameras picked up on it do you?” She asks awkwardly, “I’m still dealing with the y/n x Becky accusations!”

Arthur makes his way back to the table, juggling three glasses of water. He offers Chip some of his water, to which Chip declines. They chat away about the day for the next few minutes, Arthur’s arm brushing past y/n’s every so often while talking, and occasionally his leg touches hers too. George being a ‘bro’ to both Arthur and y/n, excuses himself to go to the toilets, subtly gesturing for Chip to leave too. Chip says he wants some fresh air and heads outside, leaving Arthur and y/n alone. The booth suddenly feels more intimate.

Arthur shifts on the bench so he’s facing y/n more, his right arm resting on the back of the bench, his hand by y/n’s head. She turns to face him too, her elbow resting on the table and her head on her hand. “Did you enjoy today?” He asks quietly, struggling to maintain eye contact now they’re alone and off camera. She nods, sitting up straighter but looking at her lap awkwardly.

“It was probably the best video I’ve ever been a part of, including my own” she replies with a giggle.

“Really? That fun, huh?” Arthur responds, now looking at her. She nods again.

“Was there anything in particular, or the whole day as a whole?” He queries.

“The whole day,” y/n beams. Arthur then nods, y/n looks around the pub before feeling brave. “Actually, you definitely made things more fun” She adds. Arthur’s eyes widen as he takes a sip of his water, trying to come up with something to say. Y/n follows suit, although it’s because her mouth has become extremely dry.

“What do you mean?” He questions, studying her face with a flattered grin.

“You just made me feel super comfortable, not that anyone made me UNcomfortable, but yeah. It really helped calm my nerves.” Y/n explains.

“Aw well, I’m so glad to hear that,” Arthur replies, moving his hand from the back of the bench to y/n’s shoulder and giving it a gentle jostle. “I think this was my favourite pub golf, by far,” He continues, “and that was down to you, most definitely.”

There was a cozy silence between the two. Y/n nods gleefully as she takes another sip of her water. As she sets the glass back down, she looks to Arthur to see him studying her face. His smile still visible, although more so in his eyes rather than his lips, as his gaze flutters over her features, pausing at her mouth before darting back up to her eyes. They can feel each other slowly leading in.

“Arthur, y/n,” Chris startles them with a hand tapping on the table, “uh sorry, we’re all heading off now. You coming?” Y/n checks her phone, surprised to see it’s getting late. She didn’t originally know how long these pub golf videos take, and it certainly didn’t feel like it took a whole entire day. Arthur turns back to look at y/n with an inquisitive smile. “We’re gonna head back to theirs to watch a horror movie or something, if you want to join?” He asks.

“Yeah, you can crash if you’re not busy tomorrow too, Arthur’s staying over.” Chris chimes in. Y/n of course, accepts the invitation.

Chip makes his own way home, promising to text once he’s back safe. George, Chris, Arthur, and y/n head into a taxi to travel back to the boys’ flat. Chris sits in front with the driver, chatting away with him. Whereas y/n is sandwiched in the back between Arthur and George. “Come on y/n, put us out of our misery,” George starts, his odd sentence gains him confused glances from y/n and Arthur, “who do you think you’ll be shipped most with by the viewers after this video goes live?” He continues with a cheeky grin.

“Probably Becky again.” Y/n chuckles, replying fast without much thought.

“You and Becky, ey?” George enquires, pretending to think as he looks to the ceiling of the taxi and rubs his chin before adding: “Now there’s an image.”

“Don’t be such a perve!” Arthur scolds half-heartedly. They all share a snigger.

“I recon you two.” Chris chimes in, turning in his chair and gesturing to y/n and Arthur with a genuine smile, though his voice raspy.

“Oh really?” Arthur questioned, his cheeks beginning to burn again as y/n turns to look at him. The closeness of their faces in the cramped taxi adding to the heat as they lock eyes and share giggle.

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

[PART TWO]

A/n: my first fic! I hope you enjoyed, sorry it was long. I basically wrote out an entire YouTube view lol but I loved writing it nonetheless. I love a good fluffy slow burner, but I also love smut too so watch this space, hehe Part two at the boys’ flat? Also, shall I write a follow-up where y/n and Arthur end up in a pub golf pair after popular demand from the viewers? - Gabby xo

[livvymd]

okay i have a request !! maybe being on inside with george 👀 and a friends to lovers happens but also like drama??

Inside Trouble.

(A George Clarke x Reader fic set on Inside) notes at end of fic!!

You never expected reality TV to be this intense.

Sure, you knew Inside was about strategy, social manipulation, and surviving weeks locked in a house under 24/7 surveillance—but you didn’t realize just how personal it would get.

Especially with George Clarke in the mix.

You and George had been friends for a while before the show. Maybe even best friends. You always joked around, filmed videos together, and people constantly asked if there was something more between you. You always denied it.

But in here? With cameras watching, emotions running high, and George acting weird—it was getting a lot harder to pretend.

Day 8

"Y/N, admit it, you’d be lost in here without me," George teased, flopping down beside you on the couch.

You shot him a look. "Please. I’d be thriving without you weighing me down."

He gasped dramatically, hand on his chest. "That hurts. You love having me around."

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched. "Keep telling yourself that, Clarke."

Someone from across the room chuckled. "You two do realize the entire internet is shipping you, right?"

You froze.

George, on the other hand, smirked. "Yeah, well… they might be onto something."

Your stomach flipped.

But you laughed it off. Because that’s what you always did.

Day 13

Lately, George had been distant. Not in an obvious way—he still joked around, still sat next to you at dinner, still teased you in the group challenges—but something had changed.

And you weren’t the only one who noticed.

"He’s jealous," one of the contestants whispered to you one afternoon.

You blinked. "Of what?"

She smirked. "C’mon, Y/N. You’ve been spending more time with Matt. And George? He’s fuming."

You glanced across the room. George was talking to someone, but his eyes kept flicking over to you. And yeah, now that you were looking for it—he definitely wasn’t happy.

So, of course, you had to test the theory.

You laughed a little louder at Matt’s joke.

And that was when George stood up and left the room.

Day 14

You found him in the kitchen later that night, leaning against the counter, looking pissed off.

"Alright," you said, crossing your arms. "What’s your deal?"

George scoffed. "I don’t have a deal."

"You’ve been acting weird all day."

"I’m fine," he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

You stepped closer. "George—"

"Do you like him?"

You blinked. "What?"

His jaw clenched. "Matt. Do you like him?"

You stared at him, heart pounding. "Why do you care?"

George exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Because I—" He stopped, shaking his head.

"Because you what?" you pushed, stepping even closer now.

George’s eyes darkened, frustration flickering into something else. Something intense.

"Because I can’t stand watching you with someone else." His voice was low now, rough. "Because I’ve spent years pretending I don’t feel this way, and this stupid show has made it impossible to ignore. Because I—"

You didn’t let him finish.

You grabbed his shirt and kissed him.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t hesitant. It was weeks of tension, months of denial, and every single moment leading up to this one.

George groaned against your lips, hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer like he’d been waiting for this. Like he was desperate for it.

You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. The kitchen, the cameras, the whole show? Gone.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless.

George swallowed, eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes.

"Well," he murmured, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Guess that settles that."

You laughed, still catching your breath. "Yeah. Guess it does."

And just like that—Inside had never felt more dangerous.

notes:

i would be lying if i said that requests without much infomation don't freak me out HELPP. i kind of just assumed you were talking about that one show 'inside'

ily all

[w2soneshots]

Hii! If you're up to it, could you write a ChrisMD fic x reader where they're best friends but with time they finally get togethers and everyone (fans & friends) is not suprised at all because they saw it coming?

Thank you, and I hope you have a lovely day! ♡♡

Totally okay if you don't want to write this btw x

Not so surprised -ChrisMD

warnings: none!

summary: as usual, your and Chris’ fans speculate about your relationship before you’ve even made it official, but when you do they’re the first to spot the clues.

notes: hiii! Thank you for the request lovely, I hope you enjoy💫. I’m back in the groove of attending to this account so here we are🤗. I also have a Valentine’s Day fic for Harry coming out on the 14th so look out for that!!💕🫶

Liked by chrismd10, max_balegde and 150,453 others

y/username: life📖🤍✨

Tagged: @chrismd10 @arthurtv

-comments-

arthurtv: I made it!!

-> y/username: hahaha sure did

anastasiakingsnorth: loveee👌🏼

-> y/username: mwah

y/nfanpage21: the art hello?!😍

user: just get together already PLEASE

y/username just posted a new story!

y/username just posted a new story!

y/username just posted a new story!

y/username and chrismd10

Liked by georgeclarkeey, faithloisak and 534,290 others

y/username: love love love...🤍🫧🌸✨

-comments-

arthurnfhill: thank god, it was getting hard to hide the fact you live with us now😆

-> y/username: hahaha

-> user: I knew it!🙌

tennesseethresh: congratulations cuties!💞

-> y/username: 🫶🫶

y/nfanpage21: OMFGGGGGG AHHELDGID

user: we all saw it coming👀😌

[candykissd]

Can you please write a George fic where he and the reader does not get on in the slightest always arguing you’re Chris’s best friend George went too far with one of his insults, reader goes on a night out then rings Chris to pick her up but he doesn’t answer instead it’s George that answers and he comes and picks her up, results in an argument but then they turn from enemies to lovers if that’s okay!

i don't hate you.

pairings : george clarkey x female reader

summary : you're at a party and want to go home, but have no means of transportation, you decide to call chris to come and pick you up, but end up with george instead

warnings : alcohol consumption, fluff, mentions of nausea, light angst, mature language, mentions of anxiety

beth's notes : is this slightly cheesy? yes, but we all love a bit of cheesiness from time to time!! first george clarkey fic!!! if this wasn't very enemies type vibe i apologise for that, i was lowk kinda stuck on this one! thanks for the request lovie 💘

you stood in the corner of the pub, the building bustling with life, all of the people coming out to watch the football before the start of the week ahead.

your head pounded, the mix of the loud chants and shouts from the football fans and the few vodka shots you'd had earlier taking a toll on you.

a nauseous feeling brewing in your stomach as you sighed, you knew coming out with your friends tonight wasn't the best idea, but sometimes you liked the thought of going out and drinking away all your problems with your girls on the dance floor.

but tonight was not the night for that.

you wanted to go home, desperately, but finding a taxi in london on a sunday at this time of night wasn't the easiest, nor safest, job to do.

you weren't sure what chris was doing today, but you thought it'd be worth a try to call him, see if he was available to pick you up, and if he weren't, then you'd just have to sit through the rest of the night hiding in the pub bathroom.

you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts list and stopping at chris - or rather, 'bilbo baggins variant❤️'.

you clicked the little phone icon, holding your phone to your ear. though, the music was too loud, and you could barely hear the ringtone.

you quickly shuffled towards the side exit, pushing the door open as chris picked up the phone, leaning against the wall, the cool breeze sweeping over you and washing away all of the tension in your body.

"hey, chris, i have a favour to ask!" you greeted, awaiting his response, except it wasn't chris, it was george. only your second favourite person !

"chris is in the shower, uh, want me to pass on a message?" george's voice rang through the phone awkwardly.

"oh, uhm, hi george, yeah. could you ask him if he could come and pick me up later? like... half an hour?" you mumbled, your voice losing the jolly tone from earlier.

"where are you?" he sighed out, you could practically see him placing a hand to his forehead, his eyes closed in annoyance.

"The Charles." "i'm on my way." he mumbled, the faint jingling of his keys heard in the background as he opened the door to their apartment, ending the call with no further warning.

you sighed, looking down at your phone before slipping it back into your pocket, making your way back into the pub to find your friends, letting them know you were heading out early.

leaving out the part where george was the one picking you up. why'd he decide on it so quickly? he hates you, or, atleast that's what he always says.

well, you're not the most keen on him either. he could've easily told chris when he got out of the shower. or maybe he's just in a good mood tonight?

you pushed your way through the crowds of people, weaving your way through the tables and barging through the front door of the pub, leaning against the railing as you looked out at the road.

the boys' flat wasn't too far away, maybe 20 minutes if there was bad traffic, you very easily could've walked. but it was late at night in london, and you were mildly tipsy. it wasn't the best idea.

around ten minutes later a black car pulled up, and you already knew it was george. you stood up properly and made your way over to the car, letting out a deep breathe, preparing yourself for whatever mood this man was in before getting in the passenger side.

"uh, hi." you smiled, buckling your seatbelt as he nodded. "hi."

the next few minutes were sat in silence as george drove, his hands desperately gripping onto the steering wheel, as if he'd fly away if he let go.

the car came to a halt at a red light, george's grip loosening as his left hand dropped to the gear stick.

"what did i ever do to you?" you asked, the question coming out of nowhere, you weren't sure what had possessed you to finally ask the question you'd been wanting to ask for months.

"what?" he looked over at you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"what did i ever do to you?" you repeated. "what's your issue with me?"

"i don't have an issue with you y/n-" "oh my god, george, you so obviously do! every time i'm around you, you go quiet, you won't have a civil conversation with me!"

he sighed, running a hand through his hair, and oh how you wished the light would turn green.

"i just... don't know how to talk to you, you're different to all of my other friends." he lied through his teeth, his grip returning on the wheel as the light turned green, and he turned the corner, growing closer to your apartment block.

you couldn't help but scoff, an eye roll following as you crossed your arms.

"don't scoff at me." he muttered.

you scoffed again, just especially to piss him off as much as you could. was it petty? yes, completely. but you could not give one less shit!

george pulled into the car park of your apartment building, the nauseous feeling in your stomach from earlier appearing again as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

you let out a deep breathe, placing a hand to your stomach as you used the other to open the door once he'd parked. you knew it was just your anxiety making you nauseous, and that was all, just the loss of adrenaline from earlier.

"are you okay?" george asked, a strange tone of sincerity filling his voice as he sat forward, unbuckling his own seatbelt.

"huh? oh... yeah, i'm fine, just nauseous, that's all." you mumbled, shrugging it off as you shut the car door, noticing george get out of the car too. "what're you doing?"

"what kind of gentleman would i be if i didn't walk you to your door?" he gave a playful smirk, resulting in an eye roll from you. "and besides, you don't feel well, if anything happened to you chris would murder me."

you couldn't help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you pushed open the door to the apartment building, holding it open for george.

the two of you made your way upstairs, stopping on the floor your flat was on as you made your way to your door, digging around in your pocket for the key and unlocking the door.

"i... don't 'hate' you." he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

you looked up at him in confusion, turning around to face him. "what do you mean? you never go out if you know i'm gonna be there, you never talk to me when you do, and every time you do speak to me - which is rare - it's always some bitchy comment?!" you exclaimed, your voice raising much louder than you'd intended for it to.

george just stood there, a shocked expression in his face as he let out a small chuckle. "y/n... it's because i like you."

"i- you- the fuck?" you spluttered out, completely gobsmacked at the fact that he'd just admitted his feelings for you out of nowhere.

"i. like. you." he smiled. "and the reason i'm always such a dick to you is because if chris, or anyone for that matter, knew i liked you i'd get the shit kicked out of me."

you let out a small laugh, knowing for a fact that chris certainly would do just that.

you thought it over. well, yes, you did always find him attractive, and he's funny, and he can be quite kind, and he's dedicated, and...

well fuck.

you like him.

"you okay there, love?" he laughed out, waving a hand infront of your face, trying to snap you out of your zoned out state.

"oh- uh, yeah..." you mumbled, a small smile on your face as he looked down at you intently. his gaze flickering from your eyes, to your lips, and back.

god, this man was not about to make you blush.

as much as you tried to fight it, you felt your cheeks flush, and you prayed to the lord that you weren't as pink as you thought you were right now.

he chuckled, stepping forward, his hands travelling down to settle on your waist, and you were sure that his grip around you turned your cheeks the same shade as a ripe tomato.

"george..." you muttered, shaking your head, a small laugh slipping past your lips as you looked up at him. it wasn't that you were objecting, goodness no it wasn't that, it was that you were trying to make sure that he actually realised what he was doing.

he rolled his eyes playfully at the way you said his name, as if it were the most stupid thing to have ever come out of your mouth.

a small smirk forming on his face before his lips connected with yours in a soft, gentle kiss. your hands slid up his arms, resting on his bicep. and it took everything in you to not let your legs buckle at the feeling of his lips on yours as you reciprocated.

the kiss wasn't long, short n sweet, some may say, but you thought it was just right.

when you pulled away a smile graced your lips as you looked up at him. "goodnight, clarkey." you said as you turned to your door, pushing it open, his hands falling from your waist to his side.

"sleep tight, y/l/n." he returned the smile, his eyes following you as you walked into your flat, the door shutting with a click of the lock.

and as you leant against the closed door, a look of pure joy on your face. you suddenly realised just how obvious the signs had been.

[clarkeysbedchem]

love language

george clarke x fem reader

summary: george’s love language is physical touch, yours is not

main masterlist | masterlist

You weren’t big on physical affection—you never had been. It wasn’t something you were used to. All of your past relationships had lacked in that department, aside from the sexual components.

It wasn’t as though your relationship with George was completely devoid of physical love. Behind closed doors, his hands rarely left your body, and that suited you just fine. He understood your boundaries when it came to privacy.

But when he tried to hold your hand in public and you instinctively pulled away, slipping your hands into your jacket pockets and out of his reach, it caught him off guard. He would panic and let his thoughts spiral worried that he did something wrong.

That panic melted away the moment you returned to the comfort of your flat, your legs draped over his, his fingers tracing idle shapes on your bare skin.

It confused him, to say the least, but he didn’t press.

You felt guilty sometimes. You knew George was a touchy person - he was that way with all his friends. And though he never said it outright, you could tell that not being able to express that side of himself with you, at least not publicly, brought him down. But he wanted you to feel safe and comfortable.

Now, you stood with Liv, Flo, and Sabina in the boys’ flat, celebrating at Chris’s annual New Year’s party. George watched you from across the room, unable to take his eyes off you. He was completely captivated - your curled hair framed your face perfectly, your dress fit you like it had been made just for you, the hem showing off your legs as the sequin tassels shimmered and danced with every movement.

He was so in love with you it almost hurt.

Your eyes flicked over to him, catching him mid-sip of his beer, standing alone. You smiled shyly and gave a small wave.

George returned it with a toothy grin that made your stomach flip and your face flush. Even after nearly two years together, he still had the power to make you feel like you had a schoolgirl crush.

Liv smirked, nudging you in his direction. You giggled, tipsy and lighthearted, and let your feet carry you to him.

“Having fun?” George asked, fighting the urge to pull you into his arms.

You nodded, looking up at him with your lip caught between your teeth.

“Don’t do that, sweetheart,” he murmured, gently freeing your lip with his thumb.

Your cheeks flushed darker, your eyes quickly scanning the room—not because you were worried or ashamed, but because you didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.

But as your gaze swept across the room, you realized every couple was entangled in their own world—arms draped, heads resting, hands intertwined.

You stepped a little closer to George, letting your pinkie brush against his free hand before slowly wrapping yours around it.

He smiled at the subtle gesture, looking down at you as you returned Flo’s tipsy grin when she stumbled over to join the conversation.

George didn’t want to push. He was always careful with you, making sure you were okay. But he couldn’t deny the giddiness blooming in his chest when you didn’t pull away. Instead, when he gently laced his fingers through yours, you gave his hand a soft squeeze - still chatting with Flo, but letting him know you were right there.

And that small gesture - your pinkie nudging his, your hand settling in his - meant everything to him. It wasn’t loud or showy. It wasn’t the kind of affection that drew attention. But it was real. It was you.

As midnight crept closer, the room buzzed with the countdown and clinking of glasses, friends pulling each other close in anticipation of the new year. George leaned in slightly, his forehead brushing yours, eyes searching yours for a sign - any sign - of hesitation, of discomfort but there wasn’t.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to.

You tilted your head just enough for your lips to meet his - soft, tentative, still unsure about being watched, but brave all the same. The kiss was brief, a quiet promise pressed against the noise of the world around you. And when you pulled away, your hand still wrapped in his, he was smiling like he’d just won something without even playing.

“Happy New Year,” he whispered, his voice almost getting lost in the chaos.

You nodded, eyes crinkling at the corners as you smiled back, “Happy New Year, George.”

He gave your hand one more squeeze, and this time, you didn’t let go.

[wroetominter]

Three Peaks - George Clarke

Warnings: none, some swearing

Thank you for the request! I have some serious writers block right now so bear with as the time between posts may be a little longer. I appreciate you!

———

"I don't know how I got roped into this one" I adjusted the microphone I was securing to Chris' t-shirt. He chuckled, patting my shoulder as I finished.

"Well, there aren't many of you fit enough to actually climb three mountains so it was quite the easy choice." Chris said. I sighed, shaking my head. Mentally slapping myself for telling Chris casually that I enjoyed a good hike.

Chris had the thought for a video that honestly, I couldn't even make fun of. It was a really well thought out idea. A group of his friends and crew tackling the three peaks challenge. Which is essentially just climbing three mountains in 24 hours. Seems damn near impossible, especially considering the group he had.

I had been part of Chris' camera crew for almost a year now, and I felt like I had really found a good group of friends in this job. Outside of filming I had been hanging out with Chris and his core group frequently. Many nights spent out at different pubs, or simply hanging out at their flat.

"Let's get going shall we?" Chris began to lead the group. I stuck towards the middle, filming the boys who had taken the lead.

Reev, Chris, and George led the pack as we began the ascent to the top of our first mountain.

"I can already tell this is going to be fucking awful." I heard from behind me. I turned my head to see Arthur Hill beginning the days complaints.

"George you owe me a tenner!" Television shouted from beside him.

"What?" I asked in confusion.

"I placed a bet that Hill would be the first to complain." Television explained. I threw my head back laughing, panning the camera to catch Hills reaction. He deadpanned and just stared at the camera.

"Don't worry Arthur, I'm not looking forward to this either."

Each boy had been given their own special challenge for the video, and I was really enjoying watching Reev attempt to put rocks in the boys shoes.

"What's your challenge?" I asked Chris as I caught up to him.

"I need to get someone to believe a fake fact about each mountain." He whispered to the camera.

"That feels alarmingly easy considering the group we're with." I said. He agreed and told me he was already scheming up his first lie to tell Arthur.

We had been climbing for close to two hours by this point, and we were nearing the peak.

"Enjoying yourself love?" George asked me as he took a seat on the rock next to me.

"It's not nearly as bad as I expected it to be, I'll be honest." I snacked on the apple slices I packed, offering one out to George.

We sat in a comfortable silence, watching the others as they bantered back and forth with each other.

I sat and admired George as he laughed, not being able to help myself from laughing along. He had an infectious laugh. Chris caught me staring at George and raised an eyebrow at me. He was the only one of the group who knew I had somewhat of a crush on George. I had unfortunately admitted it to him accidentally after one drink too many during a pub crawl.

We had all gotten up again to keep our pace going up the mountain. The terrain upwards wasn't too bad. The most annoying part by far was having to continue to film while simultaneously making sure I didn't fall down.

"I never thought this would end!" Arthur Hill screamed as we reached the peak.

"I'm sure you're used to hearing that in bed." Harry joked with him patting him on the back.

We all shared a laugh and took in the nice view. It wasn't long before we realized that 'huh, guess we just go down now' and begin to descend the mountain.

I trailed behind Chris and ArthurTV, catching some of their conversation as Chris tried to convince Arthur that some celebrity had been the first person to complete this challenge. I had to actively hold in a giggle as I knew Chris was having him on with his challenge.

During my distracted state, I felt myself slide to the side as my foot hit a loose rock that sent me falling down. Instinctively deciding to protect my camera, I took the full brunt of the fall to my hip and legs.

"Shit, are you alright?" George asked jogging to catch up to me.

Catching my breath after scaring myself with the fall, I nodded towards him. I turned my camera off and stuck it in its carrying bag beside me, examining my ankle.

It was fairly scraped up, and was slightly throbbing. Nothing that felt it would be too crazy but painful nonetheless.

A few of the others called out to see if I was okay. I gave them a thumbs up.

"I'll stay with her and help her down, you guys can go ahead we'll just be a few minutes." George called back to them.

"Does it hurt?" He asked me, grazing his fingertips over my ankle to assess.

"Not a ton, I think I was more shocked by the fall than anything. I'll be fine George, thank you for staying behind with me." I smiled at him, noting his features contorted with uncertainty at my words.

He stood up, holding his hands out for me to help me up. I happily grabbed them and put pressure on my ankle, feeling a tinge of pain but it was bearable.

I stood upright, George still holding onto my hands to make sure I was steady. He never took his eyes off of mine, scanning my face for any sign of pain.

"I'm good George, I promise." He smiled at me, squeezing my hands.

"I think it's time to reveal my challenge to you." His words took me by surprise as I had no idea where this topic had come from.

He let go of my hands, fishing around in his pocket and pulling out a cue card similar to the other boys. He unfolded it and turned it towards me.

In small, easily recognizable handwriting I read off 'tell Y/n you have feelings for her you dumb twat'. Chris. Of course Chris would write that.

I looked back up to him, his face flushed from either embarrassment or anxiety, I couldn't tell.

"I assume what's written there is true?" I asked George, looking to him for confirmation. He nodded, sliding the paper back into his pocket.

We both stood there a little awkwardly for a moment, neither of us being particularly good at the whole admitting feelings thing.

"Your feelings are mutual." I said, cutting the silence. His eyes widened at me, a smile breaking on his features.

He put an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer for a hug.

"How about we talk more about this over dinner once we’re done with the next two mountains?” He propositioned.

I groaned, “I forgot we still have two fucking mountains to go.” He laughed as I pouted.

He slid his hand up to my cheek, bringing his face closer to mine and connecting our lips in a short, sweet kiss.

“This should give you something to look forward to” he said as he pulled away. It was my turn for my cheeks to turn pink. Despite how tired and sweaty we already were, he still looked absolutely perfect.

“I suppose I can make it through as long as you promise not to let me fall again.” He laughed.

“I’ll do my best.”

We walked downwards, eventually catching up with the others who had stopped for a water break.

“Finally you two made it! Began to think you two were shacking up up there!” ArthurTV exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes at him, laughing.

“Not quite shacking up, but my challenge is complete.” George bragged, Chris’ head shot towards us at these words.

“No way.” He said, looking to me for confirmation.

“Yes way” I replied, George put his arm over my shoulder once again and we watched as the mental cogs turned in the other boys heads.

“Oh my god he finally got the balls to tell her!” Arthur Hill screamed, jumping around like a fangirl.

I looked to George who just shook his head in embarrassment. “Did everyone know except me?” I asked only loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

I knew then that the next two mountains would likely be sex jokes and embarrassing stories, and I was weirdly looking forward to it.

[clarkeybabey]

im finding out love aint what loves cut out to be

summary; it'd be a shame to let this go playlist; leaving - zach bryan word count; 1k note; if you relate, I hope you enjoy it a bit extra;). as always, if needed, you can skip out; I won't be offended. don't ever think you're not enough or too much because of trauma responses. i did not proofread this yall, I will eventually I promise</3

The relationship between the two of you was once never tainted by anything, now it seems every little thing causes a screaming match. He wanted nothing more than to be able to pull you in after a long day and tell you how much he loves and misses you. However, if either of you looks at the other in a way that is even the slightest distasteful, one is you either be sleeping the guest bedrooms, or someone ends up on the couch.

Chris grew up in a home where everything was damn near perfect for him, loving, adoring, and gentle was the only home life he ever knew. You, not so much, having seen the way your parents treated each other from a young age instilled something in you, something you never wanted to be but somehow you ended up just like them.

Another night with the two of you sat in your car, you turned toward him in the parking lot of his office. His eyes refused to meet your own as you blew up about something stupidly nitpicky, "Fucking look at me," you seethe, forcing him to do so.

He refuses to let any emotion seep from his features, keeping his face stone-scold, adjusting his jaw as he bites his tongue. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to rush back in the doors of the building, leave you here crying alone, and ask around for a ride and a place to stay for the night until you cool off.

Chris is not violent and never has been, but he wants nothing more than to feel the plastic of your dashboard crumble beneath his fist.

He's so tired of trying, but it's you. How's he supposed to let go when he's never done life without you? As cliche as it is, you both went to the same school your entire lives, and you've been practically attached at the hip since early on. "What," he asks, it comes out in a broken whisper, now he's really feeling his throat burn with the tears he's fighting off with every fiber of his being.

Your mouth moves but his mind doesn't even begin to register any of the words spilling from it. He's exhausted from filming and meetings, thanking the high heavens when you scoff, turn away from him, and throw the vehicle into drive. The whole way home he pretty much can feel the heat radiating off your form, he silently observes the clenching and unclenching of your jaw.

Despite the unexplained anger riddling your features, he sees right through you to the young girl who hates arguments or yelling due to years of having to put up with it at your parents' expense. When you pull the key from the ignition you feel his stare burning a hole through the side of your head and when you turn to look at him his eyes are filled with what you think is utterly undeserved admiration.

You look away, no matter how long you've been around each other; you always shy away from him. He watches you shove the keys into your pocket and look out for any cars before walking to the door.

He steps out behind you, watching you walk into the apartment building without a second glance in his direction. He hears your car horn honk as the doors lock; he follows, grabbing the door, practically forcing himself forward. Chris pauses, taking many deep breaths, not wanting to invade your space too much. He can hear you shuffling about just on the other side.

"I just think maybe I should go." Based on how harsh your words are, they should definitely be spoken with way more confidence than they are. Instead of them sounding firm, all Chris hears is uncertainty. "No," is all he can muster. He continues, "I'm not just going to let you walk out over something so silly."

"Glad you think it's silly, Chris." He shakes his head, stepping closer to you. When you attempt to back away from him, he stops you with a firm hold on your elbow, making sure it's not so tight it may cause any discomfort, but just enough that you realize the weight of the situation. "Darling, you know that's not what I mean." his voice is soft, and you can't help but wonder if this fight was for nothing. At this point, you don't even remember what you were arguing over.

You feel yourself visibly deflate. He steps even closer now, taking quick notice of how your eyes shift to find your mismatched socks. An immovable lump forms in your throat, and the all-too-familiar feeling of panic sets in. Chris, ever so attentive and kind, cupped your face, "You're alright, sweet girl. 'm not upset with you." He's nodding, trying to convince not just you but himself that everything will be okay.

He refuses to loosen his grip on you as your shoulders shake with the sobs that are beginning to escape you. "Take a breath, love." He follows his words with a deep inhalation, instructing you to do the same. Your exhale is almost as shaky as your hands that are fisting his hoodie.

A whisper escapes you in the midst of your trying to calm yourself down, but Chris doesn't quite catch it, he tilts your head up from its place on his chest, finding your tear-soaked cheeks which if his heart wasn't breaking before its in a million little pieces now, his brows raise with expectation, silently asking you to repeat your statement, and you do, "'m sorry, this is so stupid."

"Just a bit, yes. Do you even remember what you were upset about?" You don't have to respond; the sheepish grin on your face tells him everything he needs to know. "How about we watch some Temptation Island to make you feel better?" His suggestion makes you laugh, you both damn well that wouldn't be your first choice, but his love for the drama overpowers yours tenfold.

"Is that for me or you?" He shrugs, picking you up bridal style, walking in the direction of your bedroom, "It's a reward for putting up with you." You scoff, fist colliding with his shoulder, and he drops you onto the mattress.

His smile is contagious as your finger waves in his face, "Shut your stupid little mouth and grow, troll." his body weight is suddenly on you, dead weight holding you down. "You know I'm only joking."

[orchidniins]

Hidden | George Clarke

Summary: George dating ArthurTV's sister Pairing: GeorgeClarkey x f!Reader Warning: Fluff, Smut Word count: 2.7k+ A/N: Just a cute little smutty fic for the weekend. Thanks for the request anon! I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

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“George-”, you whine, pleasure coursing through your body.

He’s got you propped up on the kitchen counter, breath hitching as his fingers work their magic between your legs. His fingers plunge into you, abusing your cunt with two fingers while his thumb brushes against your clit in rough circles.

Your clothes had long been discarded, leaving you only in your bra. The cool kitchen air brushes against your exposed skin, heightening every sensation. George's mouth feels hot against the swell of your breasts, his lips and tongue kissing and nipping at the soft skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"Fuck," you gasp, "we shouldn’t be doing this here."

George chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. "What? I'm just returning the favor from last night," he teases, his voice calm, a stark contrast to how shaky your breath is.

He pulls his fingers out, moving them across your wet folds in slow, deliberate circles, teasing you, making your hips buck towards him in desperate need and you can feel him smirk against your skin.

When his fingers slide back into your tight cunt, you let out a sharp whine, feeling his fingers curl inside you. Your climax inches closer, your body arching towards him. Your nails dig into his broad shoulders as he quickens his pace, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

"God, George," you cry out, your moans bouncing off the walls, filling the room. Your orgasm crashes down on you, your heart beating erratically as you let out a strained cry, spilling all over his fingers. The intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, clinging to him as your body shudders with pleasure.

Eight months ago, when you decided to move from Jersey to England for work, the last thing you expected was to get fingered by your brother’s best friend in his own kitchen.

As your explosive high settles, your breathing levels out, and your eyes start to refocus. Just in time to see George bringing his glistening fingers to his lips, licking them clean of your juices. The sight sends a shiver down your spine.

He leans in, engulfing your lips in a hungry kiss, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue. Your hands dive into his soft brown hair, pulling and tugging, eliciting a low groan from him. 

You pull off his shirt, your fingers trailing down his chiseled chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin. Your hands finally settle over the hard bulge under his sweatpants, your fingertips slightly grazing over his hardness.

“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath, his voice thick with desire. You dig your fingers into the waistband of his pants, sliding them down along with his boxers, freeing his hard cock. It springs out, thick and ready, the sight of it making your mouth water. His hands dig into your thighs, and by the look in his eyes you know he isn’t done with you and you didn't want him to be either, even though the thought of getting caught was still floating in the back of your mind.

His cock twitches as your hand wraps around it, feeling the heat and the veins running along its length. You stroke him slowly, savoring the way he groans and his hips jerk in response. 

He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, his mouth immediately attaching to your breast, teasing your nipple with his tongue, swirling around the sensitive peak before sucking it into his mouth. The sensation sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you arch into him.

“George,” you whine, not caring how desperate you sound.

“Yes, darling?” His voice is taunting, pretending like he doesn’t know exactly what you’re going to ask. His hands brush against your thighs, inching closer to where you need him most.

“Use your words, baby,” he says, his hand moving to your inner thighs, spreading them gently.

“Fuck me, please,” you beg.

George hums, pleased with your words, covering your lips in a hot, passionate kiss, before he pulls away briefly. He quickly runs to his bedroom and returns with a condom. He gives his cock a few good pumps before rolling the condom on, and you watch him intently, your eyes raking over his toned body.

He lines himself up with your entrance, giving you one swift kiss before he pushes in. His cock deliciously stretches you out, knocking the wind out of your lungs as he sinks balls-deep into you. 

You let out a breathy moan, your nails digging into the firm skin of his biceps, trying to steady yourself. You can feel the tension in his muscles, the raw strength beneath your fingertips, making you ache for more of him. He groans at the sensation, the sound vibrating through his chest.

"You feel so good, Y/N" George murmurs against your skin, his breath tickling you. He thrusts into you with a rough, steady pace, filling you to the brim each time, causing your body to shake.

“You take me in so well,” he groans, his pace relentless.

“Fuck, George,” you moan, your eyes closing as your head falls back in pleasure. Your thoughts are muddled by the intense, overwhelming sensation of his cock. 

George tangles his hand into your hair, giving it a slight but firm tug. "Look at me," he commands. You obey, your eyes flying open to meet his intense gaze. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart race even faster. Making each thrust feel even more intense than before.

Just then, your phone rings, your head whipping in the direction of the sound, bringing you back to your senses. 

“George, okay, we really shouldn’t be doing this here.”, you manage to strain out. “What if Arthur catches us?” Your mind is fogged with pleasure, your cunt stretched around his cock.

He looks at you, eyes dark with desire. “Please don’t talk about your brother when I’m seven inches deep in you, darling,” he groans into your ear.

You can’t help but giggle. “Seven inches, Georgie?” you tease. 

He smirks. “You’ll be the death of me Y/N.” he says, shaking his head. Before you can respond, he silences you with a deep, intense kiss. His lips crash against yours, leaving you breathless.

He roughly grabs your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, burying his face in your neck. 

Leaning into your body, he groans and whispers obscene things into your ear, “Shit, Y/N, you look so pretty, darling, wrapped around my cock.” 

His thrusts are relentless, losing himself in the sensation of your walls clenching tightly around him. 

His warm breath against your ear edges you on, your orgasm approaching faster than before. George continues to fuck you senseless, each groan and whimper from him rippling through your body.

“George, I’m close,” you manage to choke out, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you becoming too overwhelming to bear.

George feels his own climax building, knowing he won’t last much longer inside you. His thrusts grow faster and sloppier, pushing you closer to your peak. “Cum all over my cock, darling. Let me hear you scream my name.”

“Fuck, George!” you cry out, fingers digging into his back, your body arching against him as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your legs shake as you reach your second orgasm of the evening, spilling all over his cock.

His nails dig into the flesh of your hips as he moans out, his thrusts slowing as he cums into the condom.

George gently pulls out of you, your body feeling limp as you lean on him for support. 

As you catch your breath, you feel soft kisses being peppered on your collarbone and the side of your neck, stopping by your ear. “You feeling okay? Can you stand up?” he asks, his tone soft and caring, a stark contrast to before.

You murmur a soft “Yes” and push yourself off the counter, your legs landing on the cold floor. George wraps an arm around your waist to steady you.

The two of you quickly clean up and put your clothes back on. As you begin to make your way out of the kitchen, you sense George's presence lingering behind you. Before you can take another step, his hand wraps around your arm, halting your movements.

“Not so fast,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. With a deft motion, he spins you around, pulling you back towards him with a firm yet gentle touch.

“C’mere.” George whispers, his lips barely grazing yours as he draws you close. The kiss that follows is soft and tender, completely different from your earlier exchange. You surrender to the sweetness of his touch, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours, his hand cradling your cheek with a tender touch.

Suddenly, the sound of the door opening makes you both freeze. The two of you quickly separate. George darts to the couch, pretending to scroll through his phone, while you busy yourself with the contents of the fridge, trying to appear nonchalant despite the racing of your heart.

Arthur walks in, kicking off his shoes. He walks over to you in the kitchen and gives you a hug and says. “Sorry if I kept you waiting for too long. Shoot ran longer than I thought. Have you been here long?” 

You offer a reassuring smile, “No, no, it’s fine. I only got here like 20 minutes ago,” you try to lie to the best of your ability.

Arthur nods, his gaze shifting to George, "George been keeping you company?" he asks with a slight smile.

You shoot a quick glance at George, before replying, “Yeah, he’s been tolerable,” you say with a laugh.

Arthur chuckles, his smile widening, “Good,” he remarks, "I’m gonna get changed really quick, then we’ll head out."

As Arthur disappears into his room, you exhale softly, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders. You exchange another quick glance with George, who winks back at you. You roll your eyes, choosing to just ignore him, and head into the bathroom to fix yourself up.

You didn’t even realize when or how you and George got to this stage—hiding your relationship from your brother, sneaking around behind Arthur’s back.

You had first met him the day you arrived in London, and Arthur had graciously offered you a place to stay until you found your own. He had picked you up from the airport, and as you arrived at his apartment, it was George who opened the door to their apartment.

You had seen him countless times in Arthur’s videos and thought he was funny, charming, and undeniably good-looking. But seeing him in person was different entirely.

He was handsome in every sense of the word—tall, with a toned body, broad shoulders, captivating blue eyes, and a smile that was the best thing you had ever seen.

Arthur often invited you to events with his friends, and the more time you spent with George, the more you two found ourselves drawn to each other. His personality was just as captivating as his looks, and you two got along well. It wasn’t long before you two started dating, and you found yourselves unable to keep your hands off each other whenever you were alone.

You had long since moved into your own place, but despite your best efforts to keep your relationship discreet, you had no idea how you hadn’t been caught yet. The lingering glances, the subtle touches, the excuses to be close to each other—you were making it quite obvious by not trying to make it obvious.

At this point, you didn’t even know why you were hiding your relationship from Arthur. You knew he was protective of you, and you just didn’t know how your brother would react to you dating his best friend, and you were not looking to find out either.

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Later that night, you joined Arthur and some of his friends for drinks at a pub. The group was lively, and the drinks flowed freely. You found yourself squeezed into a booth next to Flo and Sabina. You loved Arthur's friends; they were always super nice to you, and you always managed to have a good time with them.

“So, Y/N, do you have a boyfriend?” Sabina asked, leaning in closer to hear your answer over the noise.

You glanced up at George, who was sitting opposite you. He had heard the question as well and shot you a knowing look. Quickly, you looked away and back to Sabina. “No, I’m single,” you replied, smiling.

The girls exchanged disbelieving looks. “You’ve got to let me set you up on a date,” Flo insisted, adding, “Someone hot.”

Arthur laughed, shaking his head. “Guys, stop setting up my sister in front of me. It's weird.”

Throughout the conversation, George remained quiet, but his gaze never left you. You could feel his eyes on you, a constant reminder of your secret. As the topic shifted to something else, you noticed George get up from the booth and head towards the bathrooms.

A few minutes later, you excused yourself. “I need to use the loo,” you said, getting up and making your way in the same direction George had gone.

You found him leaning against the wall near the bathrooms, tucked away from view from the tables, his jaw clenched as he scrolled through his phone. “George, what’s wrong?” you asked softly.

“Shouldn’t you be worried about your brother catching us?” George said, his voice tense. “Can’t be seen with me.”

You looked at him, confused, “That’s rich coming from you. If you don’t want to tell people we’re dating, you can at least not get upset when I say I’m single. You know…You were the one that first suggested we keep our relationship secret in the first place. And also I can’t say I’m single but you can joke around about it with the boys?” you snapped, feeling your anger rise.

“It’s not the same,” George retorted. “If I say I’m dating someone, the boys will start digging. They’ll keep pestering us. Arthur is my mate.”

“And he’s my brother!” you shot back, your voice rising with frustration.

George looked away, taking a frustrated breath before meeting your gaze again. “You know what, I’m sorry. Honestly, I’m not even upset about this.”

You looked at him curiously, and he continued, “I’m just tired of having to share you with other people when we’re in public.”

You giggled. “Is that why you’re upset? Because I didn’t give you enough attention?” Moving closer, you gently rubbed his cheek and planted a small peck on his lips. He tried to hide his embarrassment, which you found absolutely adorable.

You deliberated for a second before saying, “Fine, let’s tell him.”

George’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“Let’s tell Arthur. Get it out in the open. Come on,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him back toward the table.

As you walked, he asked, “Are you sure?”

You turned back to him and said, “Yes! Now come along.”

You walk back to your table hand in hand. The group had thinned out, with only Arthur, Chip, and Freezy at you booth

Taking a deep breath, you approach. Arthur looks at the two of you, slightly confused.

“Arthur,” you begin, your voice slightly shaky. “George and I… we’re dating.”

Arthur looks at the two of you for a second, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you worry about his reaction. Then, he breaks into a grin. “I already knew,” he says, unbothered.

You look at him, surprised. “What?”

Arthur chuckles, “I know you guys are dating.”

You and George exchange a surprised glance before turning back to Arthur. “H-how?” you ask.

“I saw you sneaking out of his room once,” Arthur says, leaning back in his chair. “I was just waiting for you to tell me.”

“So, you’re cool with it?” you ask, hopeful but still cautious.

“Yeah, of course,” Arthur says, his tone gentle but firm. “But I am disappointed you didn’t tell me, especially because you two make it so painfully obvious.”

Chip chimes in with a grin, “Yeah, you two are not subtle at all.”

Freezy adds, “Yeah, mate, no surprise here either.”

You and George laugh, looking at each other, relieved.

“Well then, we’re leaving,” George announces, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, tucking you under his arm.

Arthur shakes his head. “Mate, she’s still my sister. Watch yourself!”

Before George can say anything, you playfully pull him away, laughing as you say, “Okay, bye Arthur!” With that, you and George head out of the pub together, leaving behind the laughter and chatter of the group.

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A/N: Thanks for reading guys! I'm trying to get through all my pending requests now that I'm back posting regularly.

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊

[eldulcopatato]

LOVE ISLAND: THE CREATOR CHAOS VILLA┊GEORGE CLARKEY

summary: A group of chaotic creators enter a villa in Mallorca to find love, fame, and maybe a little drama. But when you reunite with George Clarkey, everything changes—and not just for the cameras.

an: First time writing, kinda nervous... Just got this random thought and I just had to make this! I'm planning on making this a series (about ten chapters!) just for myself but don't mind some feedback! Hope y'all going to like this :p

the female characters are made up by me and do not resemble anyone!

next

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Chapter 1: Welcome to the Villa

The sun was a blazing orb above the Mediterranean, casting golden light across the rolling hills and glimmering coastline of Mallorca. The camera drone dipped low, zooming in on a sprawling whitewashed villa nestled in the cliffs, surrounded by palms, succulents, and an infinity pool that looked like it might spill into the sea. The soundtrack pulsed—pop remix, lots of bass, cheeky synth—and the narrator’s voice rolled in smooth as velvet:

"Tonight… six single creators… six potential chaos agents… one unforgettable summer. Welcome to Creator Chaos Villa."

You sat in the backseat of a sleek black SUV, window down, wind in your hair. There was something electric about this whole thing. You weren’t new to attention—hell, you’d built a platform off being bold, funny, and unfiltered—but the moment still felt surreal. The driver pulled up to the front gate, which swung open dramatically on cue.

You smirked. "Of course it’s automatic."

The villa came into view in pieces: white stairs, turquoise cushions, pink neon signs, and way too many mirrors. You could hear voices and laughter already coming from the pool area. You smoothed your outfit, checked your reflection in your phone screen, and whispered to yourself: "Let’s cause problems on purpose."

As you stepped out of the car, the camera caught your entrance from three angles. You took your time walking down the path, suitcase in hand, heels clicking, chin high. The sun hit just right. The villa loomed ahead like a set from a dream.

And then—you saw them.

They were all gathered near the fire pit, standing in clusters of two or three, drinks in hand, laughing too loudly, already posturing. A few of them turned at the sound of your footsteps. You clocked them one by one:

George Clarkey standing tall in a white tee and trousers, one hand on his hip, the other holding a beer. His eyes locked on you instantly, and for a fraction of a second, his casual smile faltered. Like he didn’t expect you to walk in.

ArthurTV leaned against the bar, talking animatedly to one of the girls. He raised an eyebrow when he saw you and gave a small, approving nod. Arthur was always observing.

Harry already shirtless, already yelling. He was halfway into some chaotic retelling of a story and didn’t even pause when you walked in—just turned slightly, threw up a peace sign, and kept talking.

ChrisMD lounging near the pool, sunglasses on, drink perfectly balanced on his chest. He sat up when he saw you, blinking behind the lenses like you’d just walked in from a completely different show.

ItalianBach sitting, crossed legged, on a beanbag like some European prince. He looked you up and down slowly, said nothing, but smirked. Of course he did.

Jenna, Malia, Sadie, and Odessa were already there too, making their mark. You caught bits of their conversation as you approached:

"...I’m just saying, if one more man says he’s 'emotionally intelligent' I’m gonna scream." "That’s how you know he’s not." "Jenna literally has death stare superpowers, I’m scared."

The girls turned as you arrived. Malia whooped. Jenna smiled politely. Sadie looked genuinely excited. Odessa narrowed her eyes like she’d just sensed a worthy rival.

You greeted them, shared hugs, compliments, little bits of charm you knew how to ration perfectly. But George’s eyes never left you. Not once.

You stood with the others at the fire pit, waiting for the voiceover to announce what you all already knew was coming.

"Islanders… it’s time to couple up."

The boys all looked at each other. One of them muttered, "Let the games begin."

The first match-ups happened fast. Bach paired with Sadie. Harry dramatically dropped to one knee to couple with Malia, causing her to nearly choke on her drink. Arthur went with Odessa after an unexpectedly poetic speech that left her blushing.

Then it was George’s turn.

He stepped forward, ran a hand through his hair, and looked between you and Jenna. You didn’t blink. You wouldn’t. Jenna had already made it clear that she liked him, but something simmered between you and George, unspoken and burning.

"I’m going to couple up with... Jenna," he said finally.

The crowd reacted. Jenna looked smug. George smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You kept your face neutral.

Of course he picked her. That’s what he should do.

When it was your turn, you hesitated a second longer than necessary before choosing Chris. He was safe. Sweet. He grinned when you picked him.

"Good choice," he whispered as you took your place next to him.

But George’s eyes were on you again.

You refused to look back.

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That night, as the villa filled with the sounds of music and drinks being poured, people slipped into their swimwear, laughter bouncing off the stone walls. The vibe was light and hot and buzzing with flirtation.

You sat on a couch with Sadie and Malia, watching George chat with Jenna across the pool.

"You and George know each other, don’t you?" Malia asked, sipping something suspiciously green.

You hesitated. "Kind of. We’ve DM’d."

Sadie turned. "Wait. Like, before the show?"

You shrugged. "Ages ago. Nothing happened."

Malia grinned. "Yet."

You tossed a cushion at her.

Across the villa, George excused himself from Jenna and wandered toward the kitchen, clearly just "looking for ice." You got up to grab water. You bumped into him by the fridge.

"So," he said, leaning on the counter, voice low, "this is unexpected."

You raised an eyebrow. "Me being here? Or me not throwing myself at you like everyone else?"

He grinned. "Both."

You stared at each other. Close. Too close.

"Be careful, Clarkey," you said, brushing past him. "You’re not the only one who knows how to play the game."

He laughed, low and quiet. "I know. That’s why it’s terrifying."

You didn’t look back.

But neither did he.

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word count: 1k