#george clarke fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clarkeyzzz · 3 months ago

Note

could you do a George Clarke one shot where him and maxs sister are secretly hooking up? All good if not x (love your work btw)

Off Limits

george clarke x balegde!reader

summary: george is secretly hooking up with max's sister. what starts as no-strings-attached turns into something more

warnings: brief mentions of sexual content

note: if this feels a little rushed im sorry, i tried not to have to write it as two parts.

4.4k words

Masterlist

₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊

You weren’t meant to be here.

The rational part of your brain knew that.

Yet, lying in George Clarkey’s bed, tucked under his sheets, skin still warm from his touch, you feel the weight of his arm draped over your waist. You know this is a disaster waiting to happen. But at this point, it’s almost tradition.

A night out turns into tipsy flirting. Flirting turns into one of you cracking first and texting where u at? And before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re tangled up in him, his hands gripping your waist, his mouth pressing hot, lazy kisses against your neck, and the world shrinking to just you and him. The way his mouth moved against your skin, the way his hands gripped your body—it always felt like an electric current between you.

This had been going on for months now—longer than you ever expected. What started as a drunken mistake had turned into a routine. Nights out ended with you texting him, or him texting you, or one of you finding an excuse to be at the same place at the same time, until you ended up here. Sweaty, satisfied, and entirely too comfortable in his bed.

It was just sex. Really good sex. That’s all.

But it couldn't be more complicated.

For one, George Clarkey was one of your brother's closest mates.

And Max had made it painfully clear that dating YouTubers was off the table.

"They’re all walking red flags, babe," Max had said once, waving his hands for emphasis. "All of them. You’d just become another London Content Creator’s Girlfriend, and I won’t be having that."

Not that you and George were dating.

You were just… shagging George Clarke in secret.

And maybe that was worse.

But that was the key difference—the thing that made this somewhat okay.

You weren’t a couple. You weren’t sneaking around because of some grand forbidden romance.

You were just fucking.

And it was casual.

Totally.

Absolutely.

…Okay, maybe there were some complications.

Like the fact that George could be an oblivious idiot at times and that you were slowly falling for him.

As you turn your head on the pillow, watching George lazily stretch in front of you, his hair a messy tangle on the pillows, you can't help but admire how good he looks even after just waking up. He catches you staring and a smirk tugs at his lips.

"You're thinking too much," he says in a rough, sleep-filled voice, and when you glance over again he’s watching you through lidded eyes, his dark hair sticking up in every direction.

You scoff, turning onto your side. “I’m thinking about how screwed we’ll be if Max ever finds out about this.”

George smirks, his grin only grows wider as he pulls you closer until you’re pressed against his chest, his warm skin against yours sending shivers down your spine. “Then we just don’t let him find out.”

You let out a resigned sigh. "Easy for you to say. You don't have to live with him."

George chuckles, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder, and fuck—that should not feel as nice as it does.

“Relax,” he murmurs against your skin. “We’re being careful.”

You want to believe him, but a nagging doubt persists. "Are we though? Being careful?"

George's fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Course we are. Max hasn't got a clue, has he?"

You bite your lip, remembering all the close calls. The time Max almost walked in on you two in the kitchen. The suspicious glances when you laughed too hard at George's jokes. The way your cheeks flushed whenever he was mentioned.

"I don't know," you mumble. "Sometimes I think he suspects something."

George's hand stills on your waist. "You worried?"

You turn to face him, studying the lines of his face in the dim light. His blue eyes are soft, filled with concern. You hate how much you like looking at him.

"Maybe a little," you admit. "It's just... Max has always been so protective. And he's made it clear how he feels about his friends dating his sister."

George's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Good thing we're not dating then, eh?"

You roll your eyes, but can't help smiling back. "Right. Just fucking."

"Exactly," George says, pulling you closer. "Nothing to worry about."

But as he kisses you, slow and deep, you can't shake the feeling that this is far more complicated than either of you want to admit.

Weeks pass, and your "arrangement" with George continues. The sneaking around gets easier, the guilt less noticeable. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

But then there are nights when you catch yourself staring at him too long. When your fingers linger in his hair, when you laugh too hard at his jokes, when his hands slip under your hoodie, and you realize—this doesn’t feel casual anymore.

You don’t just look forward to those stolen moments—you need them. You tell yourself it’s about the thrill, the secrecy, the rush of slipping out of Max’s flat unnoticed. But the truth is, you like waking up in his sheets. You like the way he pulls you back into bed, groaning that it’s too early. You like how he makes you tea in the morning, knowing exactly how you take it, without needing to ask.

And suddenly, the thought of this ending makes your stomach twist.

You should say something. You should ask him if he feels it too.

But you don’t.

Because once you say it out loud, you can’t brush it off anymore.

If you admit it, you can’t take it back.

And you’re not sure if you’re ready for that.

One night, after a particularly wild party at some private club celebrating another one of the Sidemen’s achievements, you end up with a group of friends back at George‘s. The bass from the music downstairs thrums through the walls as George presses you against the door, his lips hot on your neck.

"We shouldn't," you gasp, even as your fingers tangle in his hair. "Someone could come up..."

George grins against your skin. "That's half the fun, innit?"

You're about to retort when the door handle rattles. Your heart leaps into your throat as you hear a familiar voice on the other side.

"George! You in there?"

It's Max.

You freeze, panic flooding your system. George's eyes widen, but he quickly springs into action. He shoves you towards his closet, motioning for you to hide. You slip inside just as George opens the door.

"Yeah, mate. What's up?" George's voice is impressively casual.

"Have you seen my sister? Can't find her anywhere."

You hold your breath, praying Max doesn't decide to search the room.

"Nah, sorry. Maybe she went home early."

There's a pause, and you can picture Max's suspicious frown. Your heart pounds as you listen to the conversation through the closet door. You can practically feel Max's suspicion radiating through the wood.

"Right," Max says slowly. "Well, if you do see her, tell her I'm looking for her."

"Course, mate," George replies smoothly. "I'll let her know if I spot her."

You hear the door close and let out a shaky breath. A moment later, the closet door opens and George's face appears, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes.

"Coast is clear," he whispers, helping you out.

You stumble slightly, the adrenaline making you unsteady. George's hands catch your waist, steadying you. The touch sends a familiar spark through your body, but the fear of almost being caught overshadows it.

"That was too close," you mutter, running a hand through your hair.

George nods, his expression sobering. "Maybe we should call it a night. I'll sneak you out the back."

You agree, and with George's help, manage to slip out of the house unnoticed. As you make your way home, you can't shake the feeling that your luck is running out.

The next few weeks are tense. You find yourself jumping at every sound, convinced that Max is about to burst in and catch you in the act. George notices your unease and suggests taking a break, but the thought of not seeing him makes your chest ache in a way you're not ready to confront.

As autumn creeps in, painting London in shades of gold and crimson, you find yourself spending more time at George's flat. The cozy nights in, wrapped in blankets and each other's arms, start to feel dangerously domestic. You catch yourself imagining a future where you don't have to hide, where you can walk hand-in-hand with George down the street without fear of being spotted.

One chilly evening, as you're curled up on George's sofa watching a movie, the weight of the secret becomes too much.

"George," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think we need to tell Max soon."

He turns to you, surprise etched on his features. "You sure? I thought we agreed to keep this under wraps."

You nod, twisting your fingers nervously. "I know, but... I'm tired of sneaking around. And honestly, I'm starting to think that this might be more than just casual."

George's expression softens, and he pulls you closer. "Yeah," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I've been thinking the same thing."

-------------

It wasn’t meant to happen like this.

but apparently, George is an idiot.

The tension in the air was palpable as you walked into your shared flat to find Max holding George's hoodie like a piece of evidence at a crime scene. His eyes narrowed as he asked, "Why is this in our flat?" Your heart raced as you tried to play off the situation nonchalantly. "Maybe George left it here," you suggested with a shrug.

Max's gaze flicked between you and the hoodie. "In your room?"

Your throat tightened as you replied, "Maybe."

Max's mind worked like a detective on a true crime documentary at that moment, piecing together the puzzle before him. And then, his expression changed from confusion to horror, his jaw-dropping.

"You're shagging George," he exclaimed.

You winced and tried to downplay the situation. "Max—"

"YOU'RE SHAGGING GEORGE," he repeated, his voice growing louder.

Frustration and embarrassment washed over you as you dropped your head into your hands. "For fuck's sake, can you not say it like that?"

But Max was already caught up in the drama of it all, looking around wildly like he was in an episode of punked. "How long has this been going on? When did this start? Why am I just finding out now?!"

You shifted uncomfortably. "Uh...a while?"

"A while?!" Max's disbelief was evident.

"...A few months?" You offered weakly.

"MONTHS?!" Max couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"It's not a big deal!" you insisted.

"Not a big deal?! You’re shagging my mate!" Max's frustration reached its boiling point.

You flinched and pleaded with him to lower his voice, but he continued to express his disbelief that this was happening behind his back. In a desperate attempt to calm him down and protect your relationship with George, you blurted out, "It's nothing serious! We're just...having fun. Casual."

Max blinked in surprise. "Casual? With George?"

You nodded, trying to defend yourself. "Yes?"

"With George?"

"Yes, Max!" you exclaimed in frustration.

Max's expression shifted as he absorbed the information and then whipped out his phone.

"What are you doing?" you asked nervously.

"Texting George," he replied, his thumbs flying across the screen. "He has five seconds to explain himself before I track him down and make him piss himself."

Before you could stop him, George walked into the flat at that exact moment.

Perfect timing, you thought sarcastically.

George froze upon seeing the tension between you and Max. His eyes flicked from you to his hoodie in Max's hands, and it was clear he knew exactly what was going on, it doesn't take a genius to figure that out.

"...Shit," he muttered under his breath.

"So it's true!" Max shouted. "You absolute little—"

But before he could finish his sentence, George raised his hands like a hostage negotiator. "Alright, before you get mad—"

"I'M NOT MAD!" Max yelled, which only confirmed how mad he actually was. "I'M JUST CURIOUS AS TO WHY YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?"

Max paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "I can't believe this. My best mate and my sister. It's like a bloody soap opera!"

You and George exchanged nervous glances as Max continued his tirade.

"How long has this been actually going on? And don't lie to me!" Max demanded, his eyes narrowing as he looked between the two of you.

George cleared his throat. "About... six months?"

"Six months?!" Max's voice rose an octave. "You've been sneaking around behind my back for half a year?!"

You winced. "We didn't mean for it to go on this long. It just... happened."

Max let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, it just happened, did it? What, you tripped and fell onto his dick?"

"Max!" you exclaimed, scandalized.

George stepped forward, his hands raised placatingly. "Look, mate, I know this isn't ideal—"

"Ideal?!" Max interrupted. "This is the opposite of ideal! This is a bloody nightmare!"

He turned to you, his expression a mix of hurt and betrayal. "And you. I warned you about getting involved with YouTubers. I told you they were all walking red flags!"

You felt a surge of defiance. "George isn't like that. He's different."

Max scoffed. "That's what they all say. And then next thing you know, you're just left high and dry”

"It's not like that," George interjected, his voice firm. "This isn't just some fling."

Max's eyes widened as he looked between you and George. "What are you saying?"

You took a deep breath, reaching for George's hand. "We didn't mean for this to happen, Max. But... it's more than just casual now."

George squeezed your hand, a small smile on his face. "We care about each other. A lot."

Max stares at you both, jaw clenched so tight you think he might actually crack a tooth. His fingers twitch at his sides, like he’s debating whether to pace, punch something, or just scream into the void.

Finally, he exhales a sharp breath and rakes a hand through his hair, pacing a tight circle before stopping in front of George. His glare could burn a hole straight through him.

"You," he says, voice tight. "You, out of all people."

George swallows, standing his ground. "Look, mate—"

"Don’t 'mate' me," Max cuts him off, shaking his head. He lets out a humorless laugh, but there's no amusement in his eyes. "This is actually happening. You—" he jabs a finger at George's chest, then turns to you, scandalized. "And you?!"

You don’t answer. What could you possibly say? Sorry I broke your one rule? Sorry I fell into bed with your best mate and accidentally started catching feelings?

Max lets out another deep, exhausted sigh, dragging a hand down his face. "I can’t believe I’m saying this, but—" He levels George with a look so sharp it could cut glass. "You actually give a shit about her?"

George doesn't hesitate. "Of course I do."

Max narrows his eyes, searching George’s face like he’s waiting for him to blink, to crack, to say something stupid that will give him an excuse to deck him. But George holds his gaze, unwavering.

After a long beat, Max scoffs, shaking his head. "Fuck me."

He turns away, pacing again, muttering something under his breath. You barely catch the words "This is my villain origin story."

Finally, he stops, pinches the bridge of his nose, and points a finger directly at George.

For a long moment, silence filled the room. You could practically see the gears turning in Max's head as he processed this new information. Finally, he looked up at you both, his expression resigned.

"You're serious about this? Both of you?"

You and George nodded solemnly. "We are," you said softly.

Max sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "I can't believe this is happening. My best mate and my little sister. It's like some bad rom-com."

He stood up suddenly, pointing an accusatory finger at George. "If this is just some game to you, Clarke, I swear to God—"

"It's not," George interrupted, his voice firm. "I care about her, Max. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time."

You felt your heart flutter at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest.

Max's gaze softened slightly as he looked between the two of you. He could see the genuine affection in your eyes, the way you unconsciously leaned towards each other.

"Fine," he said finally, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I can see this isn't just some fling. But I swear, George, if you hurt her—"

"I won't," George assured him quickly.

Max continued as if George hadn’t spoken. "—I will end you, I will make your life a living hell. I will start beef with you publicly. I will make a YouTube exposé, I will get you cancelled on Twitter. I will make sure your brand deals drop like flies. I will be so fucking annoying that you will never know peace again."

George nodded solemnly, as if this was a completely resonable response " Understood."

Max turned to you, his expression softening. "And you. You're sure about this? You know what you're getting into, dating a YouTuber?"

You smile softly at Max, touched by his concern despite his outburst. "I'm sure, Max. I know it won't be easy, but hes worth it."

Max groans dramatically, flopping back onto the sofa. "I can't believe this is my life now. My best mate and my sister. What's next, Mum dating KSI?"

You and George both choke back laughter at the mental image. The tension in the room eases slightly as Max's dramatics break through the awkwardness.

George chuckled nervously. "Does this mean we have your blessing?"

Max shot him a withering glare. "Blessing? Don't push it, mate. I'm still processing the fact that you've been sneaking around with my sister for months."

You winced. "We really are sorry about that, Max. We didn't mean for it to go on so long without telling you."

Max ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "I just... I don't understand how this even happened. When did you two start... you know?"

You and George exchanged glances, silently debating how much to reveal. Finally, you took a deep breath and launched into the story.

"It started at Cal's birthday party," you began. "We were both a bit drunk, and one thing led to another..."

Max groaned. "Please spare me the details."

You rolled your eyes. "Nothing happened that night. But after that, we kept running into each other at events and parties. We'd flirt, maybe share a dance or two. It was harmless at first." As you speak, Max's expression cycles through disbelief, anger, and grudging amusement.

"...and then we just kept finding excuses to see each other," you finish lamely. "We didn't mean for it to become anything serious, but..."

"But it did," George adds softly, squeezing your hand.

Max groans, flopping back dramatically on the sofa. Muttering something about how this wasn’t how his day was supposed to go.

He sits up suddenly, pointing an accusing finger at George. "And you! What about all those girls you're always banging on about in your videos? That better all be a lie?"

George has the decency to look sheepish. "Ah, well... might've exaggerated a bit there, mate. For content, you know”

Max's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Exaggerated? Or flat-out lied?"

George shifted uncomfortably. "Well..."

You jumped in, trying to diffuse the tension. "Look, Max, the point is, George and I are together now. For real. No more sneaking around or lying."

Max sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. "I still can't believe this.” He stood up suddenly, pacing the room. "And what about when this all goes public, eh? Have you two geniuses thought about that? The fans will go mental. You'll be harassed non-stop."

You and George exchanged glances. It was clear neither of you had given much thought to the public aspect of your relationship.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," George said finally. "For now, we just want to focus on us. And making sure you're okay with this."

Max scoffed. "Okay with it? I'm far from okay with it. But..." he trailed off, looking between you and George. Despite his anger, he could see the genuine affection in your eyes, the way you instinctively leaned towards each other.

Then, after a beat—reluctantly, begrudgingly, like it physically pains him to say it— " I mean, I'd rather you weren't shagging one of my mates, but honestly?" He turned to George with a knowing look. "You could've picked worse. At least I know George. Even if he is an idiot sometimes."

George protested, but there was no real heat behind it. He knew Max was right - he could be an idiot sometimes. But when it came to you, he was determined to do better.

Relief washed over you as you threw your arms around your brother. "Thank you, Max. Really."

He hugged you back, then pulled away to point a finger at George. "And you. No funny business when I'm around, got it? I don't need to see my best mate snogging my sister."

George nodded solemnly, though you could see the mischief dancing in his eyes. "Wouldn't dream of it, mate."

Max gives him one last death glare before sighing dramatically and turning back to you. “I hate this. I hate it. I swear, if I ever walk in on anything, I'm moving out and never speaking to either of you again."

You laughed "Deal."

You and George share a glance, and suddenly, it doesn't feel as scary anymore. The weight that had been pressing on your chest for months lifts, replaced by a giddy lightness. You can't help the smile that spreads across your face, mirrored on George's.

As Max continues to grumble and mutter about the unfairness of it all, you and George gravitate towards each other. His arm slips around your waist, pulling you close, and you lean into him, reveling in the feeling of finally being able to do this openly.

The autumn sun streams through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. Outside, you can hear the bustle of London life - cars honking, people chattering, the distant rumble of the Tube. But in here, in this moment, the world has shrunk to just the three of you.

George's thumb traces lazy circles on your hip, sending shivers down your spine. You breathe in his familiar scent - a mix of cologne, laundry detergent, and something uniquely him. It's comforting, and grounding.

Max catches sight of you cuddling and makes exaggerated gagging noises. "Oh God, it's starting already. I'm going to need therapy after this."

You and George laugh, the sound mingling together in a way that makes your heart skip. You realize that this is the first time you've been able to laugh freely together in front of others, without worrying about giving yourselves away

As the days turn into weeks, you and George settle into a new rhythm. No more sneaking around, no more hushed whispers and furtive glances. Instead, there are lazy Sunday mornings spent tangled in his sheets, the London rain pattering against the windows. There are impromptu double dates with Max and Andrew, where you catch yourself marvelling at how natural it feels to be out in public with George, his hand intertwined with yours.

You find yourself falling deeper in love with George every day. It's in the little things - the way he makes your tea just right without asking, how he laughs at your terrible puns, it just makes your heart swell.

The YouTube world explodes when news of your relationship finally breaks. Your social media notifications blow up, a mix of excited fans, shocked friends, and the occasional hater. Your DMs are flooded with a mix of congratulations and jealous messages. You learn to ignore the hate comments and focus on the supportive messages from friends and fans.

Max, true to his word, makes a show of dramatically covering his eyes whenever you and George so much as hold hands in his presence. But you catch him smiling softly when he thinks you're not looking, and you know that deep down, he's happy for you.

As autumn fades into winter, you find yourself spending more and more time at George's flat. Your toothbrush migrates to his bathroom, your favourite mug finds a permanent home in his kitchen cupboard. One night, as you're curled up on his sofa watching old Sidemen videos (George insists it's "research"), he turns to you with a nervous smile.

"Move in with me," he says, his voice soft but sure.

Your heart skips a beat. "What?" you ask, barely above a whisper.

George takes your hand, his thumb tracing circles on your palm. "Move in with me," he repeats. "Half your stuff is here anyway. And I... I want to wake up next to you every morning."

You study his face, taking in the hopeful glint in his eyes, the slight flush on his cheeks.

Your heart swells with emotion as you look into George's eyes. The nervous hope there, the vulnerability – it's a side of him you've grown to cherish over these past months. You think about how far you've come from those first furtive encounters, sneaking around and convincing yourselves it was just casual fun.

"Yes," you whisper, a grin spreading across your face. "Yes, I'll move in with you."

George's face lights up, and he pulls you into a kiss that leaves you breathless. When you finally part, you're both laughing, giddy with the promise of this new chapter.

The next few weeks are a whirlwind of boxes, packing tape, and furniture rearrangement. Max helps you move, grumbling good-naturedly about being demoted to "pack mule" status. But you catch him giving George a stern talking-to when he thinks you're not listening, something about "taking care of my little sister, or else."

As you unpack your life into George's space – now your shared space – you're struck by how seamlessly your belongings fit together. Your books nestle comfortably next to his on the shelves. Your favourite blanket drapes over the back of the sofa, adding a pop of colour to the room. In the bedroom, your clothes hang side by side in the closet—proof that you’re done sneaking around, done pretending this is casual. Proof that this is real.

#george clarke #george clarke fics #george clarkey #george clarkey imagine #george clarke x reader #george clarkeey #george clarke fluff #georgeclarkeey #uk youtube #british youtube #youtube #youtube fanfic #british youtubers #max balegde #uk yt

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wifelivvyx · 26 days ago

Note

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

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tammyjackson50-blog · 10 days ago

Note

Hi!!

Just a random george clarke drabble request. Just maybe something like he meets reader's dog and LOVES her. like everytime he comes to reader's apartment he says something like "how're my two favourite girls?" sorry for the vague-ass request ahaha

Hey!!

So this is my first time doing a request, so I hope that you like it:)))

- His favorite girl's - G.C

George x Reader

You hear the knock at your door, and before you even open it, you know exactly how this is about to go.

The second you turn the handle, George walked in like he pays rent here.

"Where is she?” he asks, scanning the room like a detective in a crime drama.

Your dog’s already on high alert, little paws skittering against the floor as she runs toward him at full speed.

“There’s my girl!” George crouches just in time to catch her, scooping her up like she’s the most precious thing in the world. He lifts her in the air like she’s Simba while she licks his chin excitedly.

You cross your arms, leaning against the door. ��No hello for me?”

George, still dramatically holding your dog, finally glances at you.

"Oh, hey.” Then he goes right back to smothering her in kisses. “You don’t wiggle when you see me. Maybe if you did, I’d say hi faster.”

You looked at him disgusted. “You want me to wiggle?”

He snorts, finally standing up, your dog in his arms. “I’m just saying, take some notes.”

You let out a sigh, walking past him. “I should’ve never introduced you two.”

George, completely ignoring you, sets your dog down and dramatically clutches his chest. “Every time I leave, I feel like I’m leaving a piece of my heart behind,” he tells her. “Does that make you sad? Well, it should.”

You shake your head, already moving to grab a drink from the fridge. “You do realize she forgets you exist, like, five minutes after you leave, right?”

George gasps “Take that back.”

“Nope.”

"She cries when I leave,” he argues.

“She literally just wants a treat.”

George glares. “You’re heartless.”

You smirk, taking a sip of your drink. “And you’re obsessed with my dog.”

George shrugs, stepping closer, hands settling lightly on your hips. “Maybe I’m just obsessed with you.”

Your stomach flips, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. “Mmm. Doesn't look like it”

His grin is all mischief. “You’re right. I love her way more.”

You shove at his chest, but he just laughs, grabbing your wrist and pulling you in before you can escape. “Oi, where d’you think you’re going?”

"Anywhere that isn’t here,” you tease,

“Sounds fake,” he murmurs, and before you can say anything back, he kisses you,slow and warm, his hands sliding up to your facee.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, and just when you start to melt into it—

BARK

Your dog, actually offended, shoves her nose between your legs, whining like she’s caught you cheating.

George pulls back, absolutely losing it laughing. “She’s got jealous girlfriend energy.”

You groan, flopping your forehead against his chest. “I knew this would happen.”

George reaches down, petting your dog apologetically. “You’re right,I should’ve asked first.”

You stare up at him. “I hate you.”

He smirks, kissing the top of your head. “Nah. You love me.”

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Debatable”

But you’re smiling.

And George definitely sees it.

He grins, takes your hand, dropping onto your couch and pulling you down with him, slotting you against his side while your dog curls up directly on top of him like she planned this.

“I’m just lucky I’ve got both my favorite girls,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

---

Yeah, maybe I'm not creative or something, but I think that it's pretty okay :)

#George clarke #george clarkey x y/n #george clarkey x reader #fanfic #george clarke x reader

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clarkeybabey · 4 months ago

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❝ but i'ma be under the mistletoe with you ❞

# prompts; 6: "They kiss under the mistletoe." 7: ^ but A does the, "Oops, I'm holding mistletoe above us, guess we have to kiss." thing.

# playlist; mistletoe - Justin Bieber

# word count; 737

# note; merry christmas to all who celebrate, & Happy Holidays to those who don't<333 i missed writing for arthur so much omg.

The holidays are always a stressful time, however, more than half of your family was abroad for Christmas this year, so you all had chosen to do your family celebrations on New Year instead. Arthur and Lisa were more than happy to have you with them instead.

You spent the morning making and eating a full English, exchanging gifts, and going through their old photo albums much to your boyfriend's protests.

His parents turned in early after a bit of chatter over a few glasses of wine, leaving you lying on the couch stuffed from both dinner and copious amounts of cookies. You tap the arm he has lazily resting on your chest, "'m gonna go get some water," he whines but when you lift his arm he sighs, dramatically letting it fall back against his chest.

"Don't be long," he calls out when you disappear off into the kitchen, his eyes catch a branch of mistletoe on the mantle he presumes his mum set out to add to her decor, giving him an idea.

He listens for you intently, when he finally hears you rummaging through the the freezer for ice, he takes the opportunity to set his plan into motion, he grabs the branch and leans against the door frame, silently watching you.

When you turn, you raise the cup to your lips until you spot him and more importantly the mistletoe he's holding above the door, making you snort, "if you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked," you mumble, shaking your head.

You shuffle toward him agonizingly slow. Arthur reaches out for you, his free hand pulling you into him by the front of your matching, festive pajamas. A confident smirk falls from your face, and a gasp escapes you at the sudden movement.

The feeling of the water swishing in the glass, the only sound now is the ice clinking against it. His voice interrupts the silence, suddenly having dropped an octave compared to earlier, "Oh look at that," his eyes flick up to what's pinched between his fingers, "Guess we might have to kiss, now..."

Setting the glass on the counter next to you, before you hum, "Think you might be right."

He smiles content with the fact that you're going along with things, he shrugs, "I don't make the rules," he pulls you into him impossibly closer, watching how your lips twitch slightly. You're floored and Arthur can simultaneously see and feel it, "May I?"

Smiling once more at how he never fails to make sure you're comfortable, "You may," somehow you've found yourself breathless at his words and demeanor alone. He dips down to catch your mouth with his, facial hair tickles your upper lip when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

Arthur's hands, warm and strong, slowly slide under the hoodie you had stolen earlier that morning. As he presses you back against the counter, your bodies locked together, you both freeze at the sound of a voice calling out just behind you, "Arthur, you've got a bedroom for a reason."

Lisa, shit. He steps away from you quickly, running his hands over his face and through his hair, "Sorry, mum," he mutters, he always talks about how comfortable they are with talking about certain things but you find yourself wanting to giggle at how he can't meet her eyes.

"She's a nice girl, she doesn't need to be done on my counter," you can't stifle your laughter now, you watch in your peripheral the way his face twists, "Mum! I understand, please," he pleads, obviously hating this conversation.

Lisa scoffs as she turns on her heels deciding she's said enough to his face, but she continues mumbling about raising him to be a gentleman as she disappears around the corner and shuts her bedroom door loudly.

"That's so embarrassing," he groans, hiding his face in his hands with a sigh. You reach for his wrists, tugging them away gently to reveal his reddening cheeks. "'ts not embarrassing," you reassure him, a small smile on your lips. "It's sweet; she cares."

He shakes his head, letting out a low chuckle as he drops it onto your shoulder. "Such a cockblock," he mutters into your ear. You flick the back of his neck, making him step back, rubbing the spot with a mock frown. "Maybe it's a sign we shouldn't be shagging in your parents' house, hm?"

#arthur hill #arthurhill #arthur hill x reader #arthur hill x you #arthur hill fanfic #arthur hill imagine #arthur hill fluff #arthur hill fics #arthur hill smut #arthurtv #george clarke #italianbach #chrismd #fluff

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clarkevision · 3 months ago

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George Clarkey | Interruptions

Summary: You and George are on a date when you are interrupted

The restaurant was perfect, in that understated way George always seemed to find. Cozy booths lined the walls, each lit with the warm glow of hanging Edison bulbs, and soft jazz music hummed in the background. It wasn’t too fancy, but it wasn’t casual either—just the right amount of charm to make the night feel special.

George sat across from you, his elbow resting on the table, his chin propped in his hand as he gave you that familiar, mischievous smile. His hair was slightly messy, like he hadn’t quite managed to tame it before he left the house, and his shirt—simple but fitted—clung just enough to remind you why you couldn’t stop looking at him.

“So,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “did I manage to impress you with my choice of venue? Or are you going to roast me for not picking somewhere with a view of the Thames?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I think this place is perfect. Honestly, I’m more impressed you didn’t go for something over-the-top ridiculous. No themed restaurants, no 20-course tasting menus… Who are you, and what have you done with George Clarkey?”

He gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over his chest. “Wow. I invite you on a romantic evening, and this is how you repay me? Ruthless.”

“Romantic evening, huh?” you teased, arching an eyebrow. “That’s a big claim for someone who picked a place based on its five-star Yelp reviews.”

“Okay, first of all, Yelp doesn’t even exist here. And second, it’s not the restaurant that makes it romantic—it’s me,” he said, leaning back with a self-satisfied grin.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Sure, George. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

As the evening went on, the teasing and laughter gave way to softer, quieter moments. Between bites of food and sips of wine, you talked about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, places you wanted to visit, the kind of future you dreamed of.

George had a way of making even the smallest things feel important. He listened like every word you said mattered, his eyes never leaving yours, his expression shifting with every twist and turn of the conversation. It was in those moments that you felt the depth of what you had with him—something that went beyond the jokes and banter, something real.

“You know,” he said, his voice lower now, “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

“What, dinner?” you asked, feigning nonchalance even as your heart started to race.

“No,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “You. Spending time with you. Just… being with you.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. He always had this way of catching you off guard, saying something so genuine and unexpected that it left you speechless.

“You’re such a sap,” you finally said, but your smile betrayed how much his words had meant to you.

��Only for you,” he said, grinning as he reached across the table to take your hand in his.

By the time the plates were cleared and the bill was paid, the restaurant had begun to empty out, leaving just a handful of tables occupied. The soft hum of the music and the dim lighting made the space feel even more intimate, like the rest of the world had melted away.

As you both stood to leave, George hesitated for a moment, glancing around before looking back at you. “Wait,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“I just… I don’t want the night to end yet,” he admitted, stepping closer. “Can we stay a little longer?”

You nodded, unable to hide your smile. “Of course.”

He led you over to a quieter corner of the restaurant, where a small booth sat tucked away from the main floor. The atmosphere felt different now—more private, more charged. As you slid into the booth, George sat beside you instead of across, his leg brushing against yours.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, slowly, George reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he said softly.

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second.

You kissed him back, your heart racing as you leaned into him, his hand sliding to the back of your neck to pull you closer. The world outside seemed to disappear entirely, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, stolen moment.

But then—

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

You froze, your lips still inches from George’s, as the unmistakable voice of Arthur Hill cut through the air like a knife.

Slowly, you turned your head to see him standing at the entrance of the restaurant, holding a pint in one hand and wearing a grin so wide it could rival the Cheshire Cat’s.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, your face burning with embarrassment as you pulled away from George.

Arthur, clearly enjoying himself, sauntered over, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Clarkey, mate, you didn’t tell me you were going on a date tonight. Thought we were mates, huh?”

George groaned, running a hand down his face. “Arthur, can you not?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be shy now,” Arthur teased, plopping down on the seat across from you. “You two looked very cozy back there. Don’t let me interrupt—carry on.”

You buried your face in your hands, mortified. “I can’t believe this is happening,” you mumbled.

George laughed softly, clearly torn between annoyance and amusement. “Arthur, seriously, can you not ruin this for me?”

“Ruin it? I’m enhancing the moment,” Arthur said, gesturing broadly. “What’s more romantic than a third wheel with excellent commentary?”

You peeked out from behind your hands, shooting him a glare. “You’re the worst.”

“I’ve been told that,” he said, unfazed. “But honestly, I’m happy for you two. Clarkey’s been talking about you non-stop for weeks, so it’s nice to finally see him make a move.”

Your eyes widened, and you turned to George. “You’ve been talking about me?”

George’s face went red, and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh… maybe a little.”

Arthur snorted. “A little? Mate, you’ve been practically writing poetry.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” George said, standing up and grabbing Arthur by the arm. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Arthur laughed but didn’t resist as George dragged him toward the door. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you two get back to your little love fest. But just so you know—I’m telling Chris all about this.”

“You do that,” George said, shoving him out the door.

As George returned to the table, his cheeks still faintly pink, you couldn’t help but laugh. “That was… something.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, sitting down beside you again. “Arthur has a talent for showing up at the worst possible moments.”

“It’s fine,” you said, smiling. “Honestly, it’s kind of funny. In a horrifying, mortifying sort of way.”

George grinned, taking your hand in his again. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad we had this night. Even with the interruption.”

“Me too,” you said softly, leaning into him.

And as the night went on, you realized that no amount of interruptions could take away from what you had with George. Because even in the most awkward, unexpected moments, he still made you feel like the only person in the world.

#fanfic #fanfiction #george clarke fics #george clarke x reader #george clarke fluff #george clarkey #george clarkey fic #george clarkey x reader #arthur hill #george clarke #british youtubers

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tomsparkyr · 2 days ago

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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓!

following episode five of 'inside' — george clarke x fem!reader

by any means i do not own 'inside' and all credit is theirs (!!)

(… just read and see… but apparently i grinded out this many words idk how i did that ANYWAYS)

(ps. i will warn u that this is my favourite taylor swift song, if that’s not a big enough hint then we'll find out xx)

wc: 10.1K

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“Who’s taking the first shift y’all?” Jason questioned as the room consisted of two chairs facing CCTV screens. You groaned as you realised what the challenge was and the lack of sleep you would get as a result.

George and Jason were given the first shift. George let go of you and leant in to press a kiss against your cheek, but as he crouched down to do so, you turned your head to face him which caused him to accidentally peck the corner of your mouth.

Both of you jumped back in surprise and your faces flushed red, “Oh, God! Y/N, I’m sorry!” George laughed and held your face which was stucken with a shocked facial expression and held back the opportunity to burst out laughing.

“Jesus, George!” Jason groaned, “Kiss your girlfriend goodbye later, we’ve got money to save!” You shoved George towards the American and wished him good luck, linking arms with Milli and walking out the room.

George sat down and pulled on the high vis jacket, “I think we’re gonna be okay. We’ve got the first shift.” Jason nodded, “Yeah, we’re good.”

George placed his hands on the table, mind still reeling from accidentally nearly kissing you moments before, “We seem to understand the rules. I think we might be losing a lot of money tonight.”

Jason rocked on his chair and smirked, “How about this?” George glanced over at him, “Do you fancy anyone in that room?”

George rolled his head back with a smile, “Come on, man. You know the answer to that.” He laughed as Jason hit his shoulder. “When are you gonna make a move on her, dude?”

George shrugged his shoulders and gestured with his hands, “I don’t know, everytime I try to in this fucking house people always walk in!” He furrowed his brows and shook his head while laughing.

Jason smacked the table through his laughter, “Swear down, brother. Put a note on the door or something, get down with her, and none of us will interrupt you! We’re all waiting for it!” George covered his face as his cheeks grew a shade red, Jason’s teasing getting to him.

George chuckled, “Just blokes being blokes, chatting about girls.”

Out of boredom, the boys decided to switch seats and Jason asked, “What temptation would you take? What if it said, ‘George, sign the contract?’”

George lifted an eyebrow, “They wouldn’t risk that.” He laughed at his own joke (as per usual) “Uh, I think a sleeping pill.”

“Immunity. That’s the only one. Yeah.” George decided, his legs kicked up on the desk as he shifted in his chair. Jason nodded at his answer, “Why’s that?” George sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Because I could be in here longer with her.”

Jason covered a smile with his hand, “Really?” George nodded and stared forward, thinking about you. What were the chances you were fast asleep on the floor right down, curled up in his hoodie that he gave you. Were you also still thinking about how close you two had been to kissing; which time? He mentally cursed himself for the dozens of cameras and people who constantly decided to tune in at the worst timings.

“I’m doing this all for her now, ever since I saw her enter on that first day.” George admitted, “If I have the chance to be in here as long as I can and enjoy… whatever we’ve got on at the moment with no pressure from the outside world; I’m gonna take it, man.”

Jason patted George on the shoulder, “To be in love, huh?” George jokingly rolled his eyes and shoved Jason’s hand off him.

“How about at the start of the next four minutes, you name 100 women.” George laughed, “Your top 100 women and then at the start of my four minutes, I then name my top 100 women.” The duo laughed and nodded their heads.

George started, “Okay, Biff from the Biff and Chip books. Uh, I’m gonna go for Hermione Granger.” Jason agreed with that one and started laughing. “Why are you laughing, man?” George asked through chuckles.

“I’m waiting to hear Y/N’s name.” He smiled. George winked at him, “Oh, don’t you worry, Jason. I’m saving my girl for top spot.” He licked his lips and cockily shrugged his shoulders, leaning back in the chair.

The screen in front of them changed, “Next on shift is Whitney and Mya.” George read out loud, “We have to go get them. That is… Oh, fuck.” George muttered and quickly stood out of his chair, Jason following suit and sprinted out of the room with the boy, shouting “Whitney and Mya!”

You jumped as you heard loud footsteps bounding down the hallway, sitting up abruptly from your uncomfortable seat on the floor sitting in between Milli and Cinna. Standing up, you saw George flinging off his high vis jacket and tossing it at Mya as she caught it.

George found himself gravitating towards you, his shoulder brushing yours as you stood opposite Jason, him explaining what had just gone on. “We didn’t have temptation. We were just talking about women.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “Women?” Jason laughed at you, “We were doing, like, name 100 women in four minutes. Don’t worry, Y/N, George put you first.” “Jason, you don’t tell her that!” George groaned and covered his face with his hands, turning away from the group in hopes they didn’t see his blushing face. Farah burst out laughing with you and you both pointed at George’s embarrassment.

“Wait, Jason! What did he say?” Farah exclaimed. Jason smirked and recited George’s words, “I’m saving my girl for top spot.”

DDG barked out in laughter as Farah wheezed next to you, as you giggled and covered your mouth. You walked over to George and wrapped your hand around his bicep to pull him close to you, his face hovering over yours as his height towered over you. “I think it’s sweet.” You mumbled for only him to hear.

He pulled his face out of his hands and looked at you, he pulled you into a tight hug and swayed the pair of you as the others in the room conversed. George tilted his head down to your ear, “God, I hope we get chosen to go on watch soon because I need to be with you alone for once.” Your stomach swarmed with butterflies and you couldn’t help the grin from spreading onto your face as George’s breath tickled your face and the manner of his words sent a rushing feeling into your stomach.

Some time had passed and you hadn’t been called in to watch for the night yet. The challenge was painfully slow and you found yourself drifting off ever so slightly. You were sitting on the sofa with George and Milli was sitting on the beanbag on the floor, opposite you.

Your head was leaning on George’s shoulder and his arm was draped on the back of the sofa. The position was a little uncomfortable as George’s shoulder was a lot higher than you could reach; groaning, you readjusted yourself and tried to get somewhat comfy.

“What’s wrong?” George asked, seeing you shuffle away from him. You sighed, “I can’t get comfy.”

George nodded and eyed you, “Come here.” He tapped his thighs. Tilting your head, you questioned him. “What?”

Suddenly, George pulled your figure onto his lap, adjusting you so you sat with you back against his but your legs could be sprawled out on the sofa where you had just been sitting. He snuck his arms around your waist and tugged you tight against his strong chest, hands slipping underneath your shirt and his cold hand settled on your stomach.

“That better?” He whispered from behind you. You nodded contently and leaned your head back to rest against his shoulder, having a better height advantage now you were at his level. “Much better.”

You heard Milli scoff from opposite you, “Jesus, if we’re gonna be here a while; please keep the PDA to a minimum, I don’t wanna look over in a minute and see you two humping each other.”

Others in the room who heard Milli’s outrageous statement covered their mouth to suppress a laugh, while you lifted your hand and flipped her off without sparing her a second glance, but understood that she saw it as her giggles rang around the room.

You found yourself dozing off in George’s comfortable hold; the position familiar as you had spent all but one night attached to him in this house. The soft rise and fall of his chest against you helped your eyes flutter closed, and his fingers rubbing small patterns into your skin sent a chill down your spine.

The blaring alarm noise and the lights beaming red caused you to jolt up on George’s lap, your hips accidentally grinding against his in the process which went unknown to you.

You looked in front of you to see Milli had gone and Cinna’s presence in the room had disappeared too. You blinked in surprise as you tried to calculate how long you had been out for.

Upon realising you had lost money as Milli and Cinna hadn’t reached the room in time, you tossed your head back and readjusted yourself on George’s lap again. George’s hand suddenly found your hips to halt your movements and he suppressed a groan by hiding his head in your shoulder, “Fuck, don’t do that.”

You turned around to face him in confusion until you felt something digging into your thigh. You hid your laughter and shook your head at him, “Fucking hell, George. There’s a time and a place.” You teased him.

He groaned again and mumbled, “I can’t help it.” His strong hands situated you on his lap for full coverage, now fully aware he was in a room full of cameras and couldn’t handle people and the public seeing something so embarrassing from you simply sitting on his lap.

Meanwhile in the watch room, Milli and Cinna sat looking at the cameras.

Milli nudged Cinna and pointed at the camera which was facing you and George in the main area, his arms wrapped around you and his head tucked into the crook of your neck. “Why can’t they just shag and get it over with?” Milli laughed.

Cinna whipped her head around and nodded wildly at Milli, “Literally! I’m just waiting to wake up and see an open condom wrapper chucked in the middle of the bedroom!” They both laughed and wheeled their chairs around to inspect the scene at hand.

They watched as you tried not to laugh and ran your hands through George’s mullet while he dared to show his face. “What’s she laughing at?” Cinna tilted her head.

Milli shrugged, “I don’t know.” They realised it had nothing to do with anyone else in the room as your attention was solely on George, yet he didn’t want to remove his face from hiding behind you.

The girls raised their eyebrows as you hopped to get up jokingly, only to be yanked back down on George’s lap immediately and his arms wrapping around your waist tighter so you couldn’t pull a stunt like that again.

Their jaws dropped as they saw George’s flushed face peek out from your second departure, “George! You dirty dog!” Milli yelled and Cinna covered her mouth to not burst into laughter.

“We’re never letting him live this down, right?” Cinna raised a brow at Milli. “Never.” The blonde girl confirmed.

The screen in front of them changed and said ‘George and Y/N’. The pair jumped up and screamed, “George and Y/N!” as they rounded the corner.

You head shot up from teasing George upon hearing your name, “Shit!” You cursed and stood up quickly with George still attached to you. “Oh, you’re joking.” George murmured as he tried to conceal his issue by waddling behind you as you tried to make a sprint for the room.

The entire group laughed at him, “George, you can let your girlfriend go for one second!” George shook his head and refused to look at them as they luckily hadn’t realised the need for George to keep his lower half hidden, “I can’t!”

Milli and Cinna passed you and George on the way to the room, seeing the predicament up close caused them to double over in laughter. The two girls walked back into the main area holding onto each other and giggling.

“Young love, am I right?” PK gestured to where you and George had left the room. Milli’s brows raised, “If that’s what you want to call it.” “What did you say?” Mya asked. “Nothing!” Milli and Cinna said at the same time, but not without looking at each other with a mischievous glint in their eye first.

You and George entered the room and quickly entered the code in, sighing in relief as the timer reset.

George stood back from you while his hands still rested on your waist, you heard him sigh and leaned down to catch his breath. You turned in his hold and sent a cheeky smile his way. “Don’t even.” He grumbled, shaking his head.

You laughed, “Well, I can’t pretend it didn’t happen, George. I felt it--” “Alright! Alright!” He cut you off and sat down on the chair, crossing his legs.

You followed suit and sat down in the other chair, “I’m flattered, really--” “Fuck off, Y/N.” He laughed and shook his head.

The pair of you sat in silence for a moment, comfortable in each other's presence. George groaned, “I swear if Netflix put this in the show…” You looked at him and giggled, sliding your chair closer to his so there was no space between them.

George looked intently into your eyes, “I meant it, you know.”

Your eyes flickered from his own to his lips, “I know.”

The two of you stared at each other and found yourselves growing closer, neither of you realising you had leant in at any time. “I’m just waiting for you to make a move.” You whispered and never broke eye-contact with him.

George’s smirk grew and he leaned back in his chair, eyes scanning the room before they landed on you, “We’re alone. No one’s in here.” He licked his lips and pulled your chair against his.

You nodded with a grin, “Just us.”

George’s hand brushed a stray hair away from your face and cupped your cheek, his face leaning into yours. “No interruptions.” He whispered as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

You hummed in agreement, mind frazzled from his face being so close to yours and the knowledge that no one could interrupt this moment. George swallowed and shook his head, “Fuck, Y/N.”

His lips connected softly with yours, sighing into the kiss and his unoccupied hand finding home on your waist. Your hands wound into his mullet and tugged his face closer to yours as his mouth opened to deepen the kiss.

He pulled back for a moment, “God, I’ve waited so long for this.” You were about to respond but he pulled you back in for a searing kiss, his fingers digging into your waist and his thumb stroking your cheek.

Your hairs round to cup his face, feeling him groan into the kiss as you traced his jaw and pulled his face closer to yours. His breath quickened and he wanted to be as close to you as possible, hands pulling your figure tight against his that you were practically back sat on his lap.

His lips parted from yours and you began to protest, but the words died on your lips as his connected with your neck. You sighed and tilted your head back to allow him better access which he appreciated, pressing your body against his and his mumbled praises got lost in translation as he littered kisses along your neck.

Your hands tugged at his hoodie, biting your lip to quiet yourself as George’s lips never parted from you. You lulled your head back and glanced at the screen for a moment, this time it read: ‘Jason’.

“Shit!” You shouted and pulled George off of you, pointing at the screen as he yelped out, “What? What?” His eyes widened and he jumped out of his seat, hand attached to yours as the pair of you shouted for the American’s attention.

You sprinted back into the main area as Jason passed you, out of breath and cheeks flushed (not for the reasons the other Insider’s thought).

DDG tilted his head, “Why were you gone for so long?” Your head snapped to him, “Were we long?” You furrowed your brows.

PK nodded with squinted eyes, “Yeah, you two had like an extra 2 minutes than everyone else.”

Beside you and hand in hand with, George shrugged nonchalantly, “Take that up with the Sidemen, we didn’t know.” That answer seemed justifiable according to everyone else as they returned to their previous conversations.

You sighed in relief and felt a tug on your hand, “I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.” George said to you, pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head before strolling out the room.

You tried to contain a smile and fell back onto the sofa that Milli was sitting on, the blonde girl already looking at you with a knowing look, “What’s got you all smiley?” She tilted her head.

You raised your brows, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You couldn’t look her directly in the eye because you knew your face would give everything away.

Milli tutted and leaned in to whisper to you, “Maybe George’s boner or your little hickey forming there can give me more detail.”

Your mouth dropped open and gasped loudly in the quiet room, causing everyones head to snap around to you. “You alright, Y/N?” Whitney asked. You nodded quickly with bright red cheeks, “Yeah! All good here!” She nodded with a confused face.

You turned back to Milli who was sipping out of her bottle, before facing you and dusting her clothes off, “Your secrets safe with me.” She winked and walked away from you sitting gobsmacked on the sofa.

interview!

“Well, that challenge was… something! I’m happy that I, personally, didn’t lose any money but I can’t say the same for everyone else. But, who cares? We all need to sleep for 10 hours straight now!”

“I’m feeling good about the last few days, with George, with everyone… It's all good. I feel like I’ve sort of solidified my friendships here now. I’m definitely closest with George--”

“Yeah, physically!”

“Shut up, Milli! Anyway, I’m closest with George, Milli and Cinna. They’re like my little quad, we’re like the group from The Hangover; I’m Bradley Cooper, of course, being the sexiest!”

“Oh my God! I didn’t feel like the lights would ever go off!” George exclaimed as you entered the room after the long day (and night).

You settled into bed again, a shirtless George already laid underneath the covers. The pair of you hadn’t spoken since the kiss, and neither had made a move to bring it up.

You shuffled under the covers and pulled it up to your chest, resting on your side and facing George who was already looking at you.

George’s arms were open for you to cuddle into, and seeing this made you smile with a blush coating your cheeks before you obliged. You curled into his figure and tangled your legs with his, George’s hand resting on the back of your head as it tangled in your hair.

“Y/N?” He whispered. You shifted to tilt your head up and look at him, “Yes?”

He licked his lips, “I’m serious about this, about us.” You cleared your throat and lifted your hand to stroke his cheek, “Me too. I don’t wanna mess this up.” His head leaned into your touch and his face softened.

He slowly nodded at you with a bashful smile etched across his face in the dim light, “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” He decided for the pair of you, seeing your eyes fight to stay open as the tiredness crept up on you.

You leaned up and pressed a kiss against his pink cheek, “Night, Georgie.” You rested your head against his bare chest and intertwined your hand with his. “Night, Y/N.” He whispered, hearing your breathing even out as you fell asleep in his comfortable hold.

time skip!

You woke up around 11:00 the next day, face buried in George’s chest and his arm wrapped around you if he didn’t want to let you go. You peered up at him in your sleepy daze, him being wide awake and his other arm tossed behind his head, flat against the pillow.

He noticed you shift in his hold, looking down at you and brushing a stray hair away from your face. You blinked some of the sleep out of your eye, looking around the room and seeing that it was just you and George in bed, everyone else’s had been void of who owned it.

You lifted your hands and rubbed sleep out of your eyes, “Where is everyone?” Your voice croaked out. George looked at you, “All getting ready for the day, I just didn’t want to wake you up.” He explained his reasoning for staying in bed with you.

You appreciated his gesture and shifted to press a sweet kiss on his cheek, “You’re adorable.” He blushed and ruffled your hair. “Come on.” You pulled at his hand and helped him out of bed alongside yourself.

You ran your hands through your hair to brush out any knots that had formed in your snooze, stretching your limbs and yawning in the process. George reached down to the end of his bed and pulled on his t-shirt he had discarded the night before; not without you sneaking a subtle glance at his torso before it was hidden from your sight.

The alarm to signal lunch was ready to collect from the shop made your head perk up and caused you to sprint out of the room and collide with Milli as she walked the same way, “Morning, Sleeping Beauty!” She grinned at you and linked your arm.

The pair of you skipped down to the shop clad in your tracksuits, “Oh, yay!” Milli said as the doors opened and revealed your lunch. Picking up the pot, you groaned, “I’m never getting used to this food, it’s rancid.” You inspected the items inside.

Milli agreed with you and ventured off to see the new items in the shop, “Oh my God.” She breathed out.

“There’s lube on there!” You turned your head round to see George entering the room, his figure covered in a beige jumper that suited him a bit too well.

You followed George’s eyeline and saw what Jason said out loud, “Lube for £200.” He laughed and walked over to the food.

George positioned his body behind yours and let his hands drift to your hips, squeezing them lightly as he said, “I’m down for some lube.” In doing so, George had leant down and said this so his words brushed your ear; his fingers teasing the joggers that rested on your hips.

“You’re so stupid, George.” You laughed and shook your head, but didn’t make a move to shove him away as you normally would.

George’s chest vibrated against your back as he laughed. His head was still beside yours as he whispered, “Wasn’t what you said last night, beautiful.”

Your cheeks burned red as you recalled your kiss last night on duty, how his lips peppered kisses down your neck; and how far he would have gone if it wasn’t for being in the middle of a challenge.

The sound of Farah cursing the Sidemen brought you out of your George-infiltrated mind, momentarily pausing your inappropriate thoughts you knew your friends would mock when the show aired. “You think this is a motherfucking joke…” Farah gasped, holding her iced tea in a huge block of ice.

As you offered Farah some help and advice with how to tackle her ice-issue, you didn’t notice George walk towards the camera in the corner of the room, stare at it for a moment and spare a glance your way, “I would like to confirm one portion of lube, please.”

You looked his way in time to see him turn away from the camera sporting a proud smile. “Oh God, what did you buy?” You groaned knowing he was up to no good.

George just shrugged and scooped his spoon into his lunch, grinning while stuffing his face with the salad. Cinna looked at him and sighed in realisation, “You bought the lube, didn’t you?”

George happily nodded, his smile widening. You and Milli both looked at him with your mouths dropped open, “Want to fondle yourself, you sad, sad prick.” Milli tilted her head at George.

George’s gaze flickered from her to you who stood behind Milli. Noticing this, Milli turned around to be met with the sight of you and quickly snapped her head back to George, sticking her thumb out in your direction, “Want to fondle and get down and dirty with Y/N, you filthy bastard!” She exclaimed at his boldness.

Your cheeks blushed pink, “Milli, what the fuck!” You said through a mouth full of salad, shocked by her way of wording.

George simply laughed, not denying the statement and walked away from the scene. Milli followed, “Just because you have a mullet doesn’t mean you have to act like a guy with a mullet.”

He found himself drifting towards you, “What’s that even mean?” George said. You sighed and brushed shoulders with him, avoiding his teasing smile as you suspected his purchase had something to do with you.

The door opened and proudly presented George’s confirmation of lube. “Hey!” He cheered and gestured for you to follow him as he picked up his item. “Oh, look Y/N, it’s tingling lube.” His eyes squinted as he read its description.

You tilted your head, “Why did you single me out, George?” You said through a chuckle. George licked his lips and nudged you with his shoulder, “Well, it’s not exactly a one person job, Y/N.” He winked.

You scoffed a laugh as Jason slapped George on the back, “Get in there, man!” You shook your head at the boys and made your way for the shop’s exit. “I just wanna feel something.” George shook the bottle.

“Wait, Y/N!” You heard his voice call out, you poked your head back into the room, “Tingling lube, cheeky and fun!” He flipped the bottle so you could read what he was saying.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” You muttered and left him and his lube in the shop.

time skip!

“We’re just lubing everything up now.” George turned and squirted some of the lube on the table. “Y/N, look at the lube.” Mya said to you, making you lift your head from your lunch as you see George reach for your bottle.

He placed your bottle on the ping-pong table and slid it across where he had spread the lube, only for it to fall off the table as it reached its end. George covered his mouth to suppress a laugh and turned to you, “Aren’t you impressed, Y/N?”

You blinked, “Not really, no.” You bit back a smile through your deadpan tone of voice.

George pointed at you, “You’re next, Y/N.”

“Whoa!” The whole table erupted in surprised and shocked sounds, George’s eyebrows rising and he covered his mouth quickly after realising what he had just said and how it had come out.

You sat there in shock and eyes wide, “I’m what now?” Milli laughed and hid her head in your shoulder to not be too loud. George stuttered and waved his hands around, “No, no! I meant--”

“We know what you meant, George!” PK snorted and hit the table laughing, the girls opposite him giggling at the scene.

Luckily (for George), the usual noise rang out of the house and everyone’s attention turned to the screen which read: ‘Y/N, please come to the Temptation Room’.

“Shit.” You winced, rubbing your eyes with your hands as everyone cheered for you. “Come on, Y/N!” Milli whooped in support.

George’s hand grabbed yours, “You’ve got it.” He smiled at you and your heart raced. You looked directly in his eyes and for a moment it felt like you were the only two people in the room, “George?” You asked him.

His heart thumped in his chest, thinking you were about to have the conversation he’s been waiting years for now, in a room full of people. “Yes?” He whispered back.

“Your hands are covered in lube.” You whispered back, gently pulling your hand out of his. “Shit! I’m sorry!” His eyes widened, rushing to grab a tissue from the table.

You laughed and shook your head at him and he frantically rubbed your hands free of the lube that coated his, “That’s not what you need when the Sidemen are about to torture you.” He said through laughs, wiping off the remaining essence.

You watched his movements in awe, not exactly the romantic scenario you had imagined but it’ll do. “Hey,” His head lifted to meet your eyes, “We’ll talk about it when I’m back.”

He knew what you were talking about; the kiss. How George had you practically on his lap and neck presented to him as he mumbled how bad he had been wanting this. He nodded his head at you, “Damn right we will.”

You laughed at him and retracted from his hold, bidding goodbyes and accepting good luck messages thrown your way, eyes locking with the door to the temptation room as it entered your sight.

“Here we go.” You whispered to yourself and pushed the door open.

The room was empty besides a plinth displayed in the centre of the room with cards stacked on top of it, and one single door against the back wall. The room was bare of any life or hope, your stomach twisted with nerves as you knew it wasn’t as simple as the room appeared.

“What the…” Your voice trailed off. Walking towards the plinth, you picked up the first card and read aloud its content.

“Y/N, behind this door is your family, friends and your dog.” Your heart stopped at the thought of them all behind the door, especially your little dog, his little face and wagging tail you missed oh so much. “You have the option to spend an hour, no supervision, with them before returning to the Inside house.”

“However, if you wish to take this you will not receive a punishment of £30K being removed from your prize fund.” Your brows furrowed as you reached the end of the card, flipping it over to see if you read it correctly, which you did.

You scoffed, “Well, I’m fucking taking it. It’s a no brainer!” You shrugged and headed towards the door, a smile growing on your face as you knew everyone you loved stood behind that door, ready to meet you once again.

“Y/N, please may you read the second card.” The voice of Josh rang out in the room, stopping you in your tracks.

You obeyed and took slow steps back to the plinth, reluctantly reaching for the second card and reading it out loud.

“We must tell you that George is also in his Temptation Room right now.” Your heart pounded in your chest, “And he has been granted the opportunity for immunity in the next round of eliminations.” You swallowed as you finished the second card, mentally begging for George to take the immunity; you couldn’t handle it if he was eliminated.

You sighed as the final card was in your sight. Picking it up, you cleared your throat.

“If you wish to give into your temptation; George’s immunity, if he wishes to take it, will not be valid and he is at risk of being eliminated in the next round.”

“However, George could reject the immunity. And you could have missed out on a chance to be greeted by your loved ones with zero consequences.”

You shook your head and knelt down, arms leaning on the plinth and your forehead rested on its edge. “You’re fucking bastards.” You whispered, trying to hold back tears as the situation became overwhelming.

George’s fate was balanced in your hands while everyone you loved stood waiting for you. You could accept and pray on the fact that George rejected the immunity and no one would be hurt, you’d simply be doing what’s best for you.

But if George had taken the immunity, and you had chosen to see your friends and family. George would be at further risk of being eliminated and you’d be betraying him and his intuition.

And if he had rejected immunity and you had rejected the huge chance you were being offered, no one wins. Everyone’s feelings are hurt and it’s every man for themselves during the next round of elimination.

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” You muttered the mantra over and over. You rubbed the brewing tears from your eyes and groaned seeing the door begging to be opened.

To make matters worse, a knock came from the door you were staring at and echoed, “Y/N? Are you there?” Emerged from the other side. You sunk onto the floor as you heard the voice of your family on the other side, inches away from holding you in a tight hug.

You hid your face in your hands and cried, unshed tears spilling into your palms as the room was engulfed in silence.

“Y/N, please make your decision.” Josh’s voice sounded out, almost sympathetically.

You really wished George had taken that goddamn immunity, every fibre of your body willed that he was walking back into the living room now, the token tight in his grip. You wanted him to stay, you needed him to stay; to be selfish for once in here and protect himself as he wouldn’t understand the lengths you would go to keep him here, with you. To be in his hold for a couple more nights, the bed being yours to share. The stolen kisses and whispered confessions that stayed between two tortured hearts, two people who had suppressed these feelings for so long that who knew being locked in a house for seven days and no access to the outside world would push you to admit that he was all you wanted. George Clarke, please take the immunity.

You stood up and sniffled, “I’m not taking it.” You turned and walked out the room, hearing and seeing the lights shut off as you ventured out.

The walk back to the living room felt longer than usual, heart pounding with each step you took; praying that you would turn the corner and see George proudly showing off his immunity token to everyone on the couch.

When you turned the corner, the couch was void of him. Everyone’s head snapped to you and your bloodshot eyes.

Milli was the first one to stand up and pull you into a tight hug, “What happened? What was it?” She rubbed your back while bombarding you with desperate questions.

Your eyes scanned the room, “Where’s George?” Cinna shook her head and stood up to comfort you, “He’s still in the Temptation Room. Y/N, are you alright?”

You shook your head and your bottom lip wobbled, “That was fucking awful.” You whispered and reciprocated Milli’s hug, tears staining her hoodie as Cinna held your hand and rubbed the back of it. Farah joined and played with the ends of your hair, “What did they do?”

Your voice broke, “It was my family, friends and my fucking dog.” Everyone’s mouth dropped open and their eyebrows knitted together in sympathy, “So, you didn’t take it?” PK asked, voice softer than usual.

You shook your head and wrapped Milli back into the hug, the blonde pulling you in tighter. “Hey, you saved £30K though, you can be proud of that, babe.” She tried to comfort you, trying to make the best out of a bad situation.

You didn’t deny her statement, preferring to lie and keep to yourself that losing £30K was never a threat in your case; rather George’s future was taunting you and your plagued mind.

The girls guided you to the sofa, letting you take up most of the space as they all drifted off for a nap, letting their minds rest as they debated George’s willpower. While everyone was confident he wouldn’t give in, you wished, for once, he would.

You couldn’t sleep a wink, your mind was running wild and your cheeks were stained with more tears that no one saw. Your bottom lip was chewed to borderline blood, heart never faltering and sniffles never persisting.

The sound of footsteps makes your heart leap in your stomach, sitting more upright on the sofa while everyone remains asleep.

George’s figure rounded the corner and your body moved before your mind could comprehend it, “Holy shit.” You muttered.

You flung your arms around George’s shoulders and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, taking him by surprise but his hands naturally wove their way around your waist. You buried your head into his chest and let out hollow sobs, “Hey, hey, hey. What happened?” You didn’t respond to his pleas, only shaking your head and tightening your grip on him.

Everyone else woke up to his voice comforting you. “What was it?” Mya asked out loud, the other joining in with her question.

George kept his arms around you. “It was fucking horrible, man.” He swallowed and wound his hands into your hair as your face remained hidden from everyone. “I went in, and there was this plinth with a box on it, card on top.” He explained the room similar to your own.

“Read the card, says, ‘If you take this, it will cost your team £30K, but you have immunity for the next voting.’” You winced at the reminding, waiting for the punchline that he took the immunity.

“I obviously deliberated for a while, and I said, ‘No, look, if my team want me gone, they want me gone.’” Your heart dropped into your stomach. No, no… surely he took the immunity, right?

“So I put it down, tried to mic-drop out of there.” He said through a forced grin.

Your face fell against his chest, pulling back slowly and locking eyes with him. “You didn’t take it?” You whispered, cheeks flushed and eyes watering.

George shook his head at you, “No, I didn’t.”

You froze. Your head pounded with the image of your family and friends behind the door, knocking for you to see them, confide in them; but you had chosen George over them, and it had all backfired in your face.

Tears fell down your face, George furrowed his brows at you and reached out to brush them away, you gently pushed his hands away and looked everywhere but him. “No, no, no…” Your voice came out coarse, throat dry from the sickening feeling.

“Hey, what happened--” “I need to be alone.” You cut him off and scrambled out of George’s embrace, the warmth of his chest against your cheek no longer providing you with comfort; now just a mockery of what you could have had.

“Y/N.” His hand wrapped around yours before you snatched it away, “Please.” You begged him, tears welling in your eyes and forehead creasing in desperation. George studied your face with his heart clenching at your distress, he reluctantly let you go, seeing your figure bolt out the room and into the bedrooms.

time skip!

You sat in silence in the bedroom for a while, the only noise that filled the void was your sniffles and you fumbling with your makeup sat on the desk in front of you. You pulled out some makeup wipes from your bag, hands shaking as you removed mascara that had smudged under your eyes.

“That was so fucking embarrasing.” You mumbled to yourself and your reflection. You were humiliated at how you had blindly chosen George over everyone else in your life, because you were stupid enough to think you understood him and what he would do. It seemed you didn’t know George as much as you thought you did.

You felt someone appear behind you in the doorway, “Hey…” Milli said quietly, not pushing you too far due to your current vulnerability. You looked at her in the mirror, “Hey.” You whispered back and cleared your throat.

“You alright, babe?” She walked slowly towards you. You were about to lie and admit that you were perfectly fine, whereas you knew you weren’t. Opting for honesty, you shook your head, “No, Milli. I’m not.”

She sighed and sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug, “Take your time.” She rubbed your back and let you cry into her shoulder. You stayed there for a while, mind dwelling on George and his now lack of immunity, and how your throat closed up the second he confessed he didn’t have the token between his fingers.

“I wish I took it.” You whispered into Milli’s shoulder, “I wish I opened that door and saw them.” Milli winced and hugged you tighter, “I know, I know.”

“Why didn’t he take it?” You said through broken sobs. Milli furrowed her brows, “Who?”

“George. Why didn’t he take the immunity?” Milli pulled back from the hug, “Is that why you’re upset, Y/N?”

Your face fell a little bit, biting back the confession slipping from your lips. “No, no…” You backtracked, “It’s just all so overwhelming right now.” You covered your alibi. Milli seemed to buy it and smiled sympathetically at you, shifting herself closer to you and on the edge of her chair so she could comfort you.

You two stayed like that for a while, your cries settled to a stop, just bloodshot eyes exposing your inner turmoil. You had grown really close to Milli being inside this house, knowing to catch up with her outside of this place and do streams together, considering her one of your best friends now despite the chaos that ensued in this house.

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” You heard George stutter from the doorway. You didn’t look over at him, focusing your attention on the table in front of you instead. Milli looked up at the new identity in the room and reluctantly pulled her arms away from you, “Uhh,” She glanced between you two and noticed the tension, “Yeah, sure.”

“Y/N, you gonna be okay?” Milli said, hand grazing your shoulder. You looked up for once and nodded slowly, not trusting your words.

She made an exit for the room, passing George on her way out and locking eyes with him. She nodded at him as his face seemed nervous, silently wishing him good luck.

You heard George take slow steps towards you and he sat himself down on the chair that Milli previously preoccupied. From where she had shuffled her chair closer to you, George’s shoulder brushed yours but neither of you made a move to pull each other in your arms, instead letting the tension simmer in the room.

George opened his mouth to say something but stopped, lips parting and closing after. He looked at you through the mirror, seeing your tear stained face made his heart stutter in his chest. He wanted to reach out and touch you, to comfort you, but due to your lack of eye contact he assumed it would be inappropriate to do so.

You felt sick at the awkwardness in the room. You could see George trying to make conversation from the corner of your eye, but glad he restricted himself because you didn’t know if you could handle talking to him at the moment. Not that it was his fault, it was yours completely, but a part of you hated him because you perhaps didn’t know the person you loved as much as you thought.

“I took it.” George broke the silence.

Your head snapped to face him, seeing his anxious face properly for the first time today; heart dropping as you could practically see his mind racing behind his head.

“What?” You expected him to be messing with you, but his face was etched with seriousness and looked you dead in the eye. He wasn’t lying. “Please tell me you’re serious.” You whispered.

George nodded at you, “I took the immunity.”

You stared at him in shock, every feeling you felt was overstimulating your poor mind. George watched your reaction with nerves swarming his stomach; would you think he was selfish for taking it? Would you call him a traitor and storm out the room? Did he do it for all the right reasons?

“Thank fuck.” You groaned and rubbed your eyes with your hands. You lulled your head back and felt like crying again as all the tension dropped out of your shoulders, relief flowing through your body.

George’s eyes widened, “What does that mean?” His eyes followed you and your body language.

You took your hands away from your face, tilting your head to look at him and bit back a soft smile. “Mine was about you.” You admitted.

George furrowed his brows and his breathing got quicker, “What was about me?”

“The Temptation Room. It was about you, George.” You smiled through your watery eyes, his confused expression not mirroring yours of relief.

“I’m gonna need you to explain, Y/N. I don’t understand--” “I wouldn’t have lost £30K.” You cut his ramble off, slowly guiding your hands closer to his that your fingertips brushed.

George’s silence was your prompt to go on, “They put me in a room with the option to see my family, friends and my dog.” “But he’s with--” “Chris. I know.” You finished his inquiry.

“They said I could see them and not lose £30K.” George furrowed his brow, “Why didn’t you take it?”

“If I had accepted, it would have made your immunity invalid.” You confessed, winding your hand into his, his warmth spreading across your body.

“But you didn’t know if I had taken it yet.” George intertwined his fingers with yours. You nodded at him, “I know. I did it for you.”

George’s mouth dropped open just slightly, eyes searching yours as your confession slipped past your lips. You had never intended to tell him this, but after his admission, you couldn’t let it go unspoken.

The more the silence extended and the longer it took for him to respond made your heart sink a little bit, scared you had said too much; exposed yourself and let him understand the lengths you would go to for him.

“I did it for you, too.” George finally responded.

Now it was your turn to be stunned into silence, “What?” You blinked at him.

George bit back a wide grin, licking his lips and tightening his grip on your hands, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

“If I knew I had the chance to be in here with you as long as possible, I knew I was gonna take it.” He started and shuffled closer to you, he took it as a good sign when you didn’t move away from you. “I’ve liked you for so long and if I knew I could be safe from elimination in the next round, all my time could be spent with you.” His hand lifted to cup your face.

“And after our kiss last night,” Your cheek burned under his touch. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Everything about you, Y/N.” He whispered, heart sinking at your silence, “Please say something.” He pleaded.

Instead of saying anything, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his harshly. He grunted in shock and quickly settled into the kiss, hand rounding to the back of your head and tangling in your hair, pushing your face closer to his. George tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips. You sighed at the contact and wound your hand through his mullet, finding yourself leaning forward to practically sit on his lap.

George noticed this and placed his hands on the backs of your thighs, hoisting you onto his lap, catching you by surprise. You yelped into the kiss which caused him to part from you for a moment, “You drive me insane, Y/N.” Your hands cupped his cheeks and you could feel his jaw moving from the intensity he was kissing you with, heat flowing through your body.

You pulled back from the kiss and his lips connected with your jaw, “George, this isn’t some joke to me. I like you so much and I don’t wanna mess this up.” You mumbled through soft sighs as his kisses increased in passion.

Parting from you, he lifted his head and rested his forehead against your own. “I’m not joking, Y/N. I’m so serious about you and this is real to me.” You smiled at him and your cheeks burned red. “Get back here, Clarkey.” You shook your head and pulled him back in for a soaring kiss, one in which he didn’t object to.

George’s hands drifted underneath your hoodie with the intention to lift it over your head. Just as you raised your arms to let him do so, you heard footsteps rounding the corner which made you and George part immediately and stand on opposite sides of the room.

Cinna’s head popped round the corner, “Do you mind if I speak to George alone, Y/N?” She swallowed and narrowed her eyes at the distance between you two, but cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

You nodded at the American with a loose smile on your face, “I was gonna get in the shower now, anyways.” You said and left the room; not without seeing Cinna point at George, “Might wanna fix your hair, George.” She said through a teasing voice. You could practically see him fumble to tame his hair with pink cheeks.

You entered the bathroom and stripped down to enter the shower, groaning in displeasure as the cold water hit your skin.

You estimated that you were in there for about 10 minutes before you heard a soft knock on the glass door of the shower. You furrowed your brows at the greeting and saw a blurred figure rocking back and forth with their hands stuffed in their pockets on the other side of the shower.

You opened the door and poked your head out to keep the rest of your body hidden, “George?”

George stood there with a teasing grin on his face, and he pointed to the shower you were in, “Cold shower?” He questioned with a tilt of his head.

You nodded at him with squinted eyes, a smile forming on your face as your mind caught up with intentions. You hummed at him while he took a step back.

As he leaned back, he turned his head in either direction to scan the area before they landed back on you once he determined the coast was clear, “Interesting.” He mumbled.

You smirked at him, eyeing his figure as he bit back a cocky grin. You raised your eyebrows at him in confirmation and he looked down to suppress his smile. Looking back at you, he quickly pulled his white t-shirt off and chucked it behind him, doing the same with his bottoms; joining you in the shower before anyone else could walk past and see what was happening.

time skip!

“Y/N, come here!” You heard Cinna’s whisper from round the corner as you sat in George’s arms on the couch. Standing up and out of his touch, you turned to George and said, “I’ll be right back.” He nodded and winked at you, subtly pinching your ass on your way out without anyone seeing. You turned back to him and flipped him off, which caused him to laugh and throw his head back.

“What’s up?” You asked Cinna as you two stood in the gym where she led you. Cinna opened her mouth to start talking but shut it with furrowed brows, eyes inspecting your shirt, “That’s not your shirt.” Your eyes widened and looked down at the item of clothing that was way too big for you, “Yes it is.” You lied through your teeth, fingers tugging at the material to tighten it around you, acting as if it fit you.

Cinna laughed and shook her head, “Y/N, it’s massive on you. That’s not yours!” You faked nonchalance, “Definitely mine, Cinna.”

“It’s definitely not yours, Y/N.” She looked you up and down with a raised eyebrow. “How do you know that?” You tested her.

“Because it’s loose on the neckline and I can see your hickey’s poking out at the top.” Cinna tutted. You flinched and yanked the material further up your neck to hide yours and George's previous rendezvous.

“Anyway, Y/N! Something serious,” She shook her head and cut off your inner panic, “I’m working for the Sidemen.” You tilted your head in confusion, “What?”

“There will be an elimination tonight. Remember the code: 372. You can’t tell anyone, not even George.” You nodded, “I promise I won’t say a thing.” You held her hands and swore to her.

She jumped up and shook you, “Thank you, thank you! Y/N, I love you!” She cheered and sprinted out the room, leaving you laughing and strolling back to the living in which George laid.

You saw George waiting for you with open arms, ones you fell into on the couch. “All good?” He nudged you. “All good.” You confirmed and glanced over to Cinna, sending her a wink as she smiled gratefully at you.

“Hello Insiders!” The voice of Vik rang out in the room, everyone's eyes switching to the door to see him and Specs enter the living room. You all cheered at the arrival but nerves were brewing at the sudden appearance.

“We’ve got some fun for you. We’re gonna be doing a talent show tonight.” Vik announced, everyone clapping in response. He then revealed that there were free drinks downstairs, everyone jumping up and collecting their beverage of choice.

Returning to the room, Vik displayed cards in front of you all. “Behind these cards lies your fate. There is a talent that each of you will have to perform. One of them is a pair, so two of you get to do the talent together.”

You were chosen to pick a card first. You read it outloud with a bashful smile on your face, “Relationship Yoga for two people.”

Everyone cheered and pointed at George, slapping him on the back, “Come on, Georgie!” PK shouted and pushed him closer to you. George sighed with a smile on his face, “Time to simulate sex positions on Netflix.” You laughed at him and hid your face in his neck.

Being given 15 minutes of practice time, around 10 of the 5 was spent with your lips locked with George’s, claiming you needed the gym alone to ‘rehearse’.

“You’re so beautiful.” George grunted through kisses, hands gripping his shirt that clung to your back. You smiled into the kiss and parted to say, “You’re not too bad yourself, Clarkey.”

Just as he was about to reattach his lips to yours, a soft knock on the door broke the pair of you apart. Milli’s head poked through the glass in the door, “I need help.” Her muffled voice said past the door. You nodded for her to come in.

“You could do Donald Duck or Kermit the Frog, they’re animals.” George suggested as Milli entered, his arm still slung around your waist.

“Yeah, you have to just… ‘Hi, I’m Kermit the Frog.’” He said in Kermit’s voice. You glanced up at him, “So attractive.” You joked and shook your head, his elbow coming out to nudge you.

Milli smiled and nodded, “So, what have you two come up with?” Both yours and George’s smiles faltered and you looked at each other, “Uhh… we’ve got the…” George clicked his fingers, “That one move! Yeah, we have the….” Both of your minds searched for an excuse or answer.

Milli tilted her head with a teasing smile, “Y/N, get your ass in the air and do some yoga with your boyfriend.” She winked and left the room, laughing out loud at yours and George’s flushed faces.

In the short time span, you and George had come up with a few moves. But none of them were executed without laughing or hands drifting from their original position, “George, you can’t grab my ass in front of everyone!” “It’s part of the move!” He deflected.

Entering the living room again, Vik said, “Okay, it’s time to kick off the show!”

Teased with the shop token, you looked at George and grabbed his face, “Game faces on.” He reciprocated your intensity, sporting a beer in his right hand.

Once it was yours and George’s turn, you stood up and laughed through PK and DDG’s wolf whistles as George fist bumped them on his way up.

You and George stood side by side, calming music being played in the background as you began your ‘relationship yoga’.

First of all, you simply sat back to back with George with your legs crossed, both of you giggling in the process. Everyone cheered your movement and clapped for you two, chanting for the next position. The next was George lent in a plank position, body shaking as he laughed, “You can’t laugh, I’ll fall!” You cursed at him, making him laugh even more. “Y/N, just get on!”

You copied his position on his back, this time the other way round. The pair of you shook with laughter bubbling around the room, Vik and Specs pointing and covering their faces to suppress a smile as you performed the move. You hopped off him before you could fall on your face, George letting his arms relax and lie flat on the floor.

“Last move, please.” Vik instructed. You looked at George, “Right, I’ll go into the handstand this time.” You recalled George trying to do it beforehand, obviously failing if it had reached this point.

You bent down to fall into a handstand, committing to it. Meanwhile, George wasn’t paying attention, instead facing the mockery of PK and Jason who pointed at him, “George, we saw that!” Jason shouted. “Stop looking at her ass, brother!” PK laughed loudly.

With George’s attention elsewhere, he didn’t see you in the handstand. “George!” You shouted from upside down which made his head snap towards you, catching your shin at the last minute before you fell onto your back.

Everyone screamed and laughed as George let you slowly down on the ground, “Oh my God, I didn’t see you! I’m so sorry!” He shouted apologies profusely, your laughter reassuring him it was alright. You relaxed on the floor, “Fucking hell, George!” You shook your head at him and he lifted you onto your feet, pressing kisses to your forehead, still feeling guilty despite you promising it was all good.

Vik and Specs looked at each other and deliberated, “We’ll give you two a solid 7 for effort!” You shrugged your shoulders and high-fived George, skipping back to the sofa to watch everyone else.

Once everyone was finished, Vik announced the winner. “So our winner of the Inside talent show is Milli Jo!” She stood up and jumped around in excitement. You joined her and cheered for her, “Yes, Milli!” You screamed and held her hands as she was given the shop token.

Vik and Specs left the room, leaving everyone still cheering for Milli. “So proud of you, babes!” You nudged her. “You were so good even though George nearly killed you.” “I didn’t see her!” George joined in with the conversation with mock offense, the two of you laughing at his reaction.

“Jason, you wanted a twist?” Vik popped his head back into the room.

“No!” Cinna immediately vocalised your inner thoughts, “Go away!” You and Milli said at the same time. “We can do a twist.” Vik ignored everyone. “I knew it!” Farah shouted in despair.

“The twist is that there will be an elimination.”

bonus!

@wherethezoes-at @sidemenslver @multifanxtvshows @bibissparkles @le-le-lea @tiamonetsworld @dopeysunflowers @viagracex @rebeccaw05-blog @sundarksposts @sabbrriiinnaa @lovingaphroditesworld @evisceratedmuke @youtubewag @happyclifford @liz140569 @addiemb8332 @isabellem2909 @madforgeorge @pookietv @georgeclarkeyscakeyass @marijas-stuff @maggie-readss @bambidollstar @lottiewills @lmaowhathaha @sukimoves @randomstufflol29 @isabelle-2934 @sophiexxclarkey @levidazai @smogballsstuff @loveheart-123 @alysbaby @octopusoptimusprime @mylillstuff @landoslvr @essieswurld @swaggerjagger2014 @isla-finke-blog @amyissocool @k0ul1ss @musicforsnoopy @bowielovesyou @fly-me-away @7leb-kakaw @je33123 @theresglittleronthefloor @geliophobias @w2sfever @grantgustluv @yourfavartistsfavartist12

#sidemen x reader #sidemen #george clarke x reader #george clarke fics #george clarke fanfic #george clarke fluff #george clarke smau #george clarkey #george clarke #george clarke inside #george clarkey x reader #ukyt #uk youtubers #george clarke fic

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deejayrockz · 7 days ago

Text

˚‧☆ﾐ arthur hill dating headcanons!¡ •ଓ.°

in which deejay is obsessed with arthur hill and creates their own dating headcanons 🤍!

i think he makes it known you two are together, however nothing much is said. some photos are posted of eachother on date nights, holidays, etc, but things are still very private.

he's quite shy. you give him a compliment and he's covering his face either in your shoulder or just with his hands. you tease him for this !!!

i think he's also very very domestic ! when sitting on the settee, your legs will find their way onto his lap, and his hand will just automatically go to your socked feet and start massaging them.

another domestic headcanon, he loves when u cook and loves to put on a fake deep singing voice, forcing you to dance around the kitchen, while you're trying to cook dinner. obviously you have a love-sick smile on your face, but he's apologising when you spill some food (despite the fact that his face is also covered in a huge smile)

he finds his way next u no matter where he is. apartment game night? he's sat next to you, or on the floor infront of you, as his head rests on your knees behind him. in the pub? he's stood next to you, with a careful hand on your waist. shopping? he's holding your hand and memorising all the things you point out so he can buy them later.

i don't think he'd be a very jealous type, not confrontational anyway.

he'd probably get jealous and tell you in private about the guy flirting with you and how it pissed him off, but he wouldn't make a scene in public.

he's very cuddly, and i think he might just be the little spoon? especially after a few drinks he loves to lay on your chest or have your arms around him. however sober, he likes u on his chest so he can run his hands through your hair, or trace patterns on your back.

he loves to do small somewhat stupid things just to make u smile. he'll fill your hot water bottle before bed, despite the fact that it makes him sweat. he refreshes your cup with iced water whenever it's running low. he grabs your favourite drink anytime he walks past a coffee shop. small things that he doesn't need to do, but he enjoys doing them anyway!

when kissing he grabs both sides of your face like a starved man.

he loves kissing !!! it's his favourite thing ever (confirmed actually guys!)

he likes small pda. rubbing a hand on your knee or thigh when sat next to each other, hand holding, arm wrapped around your shoulder (this one is mainly when he's using you for support after a few drinks).

i think as the relationship develops, you will get your own place, but as long as you're okay with it, he's enjoying living with you chris and george for the time being.

he gets so excited to write songs about you !! he wants to show u off so badly, but knows the repercussions of a public relationship, so sticks to singing about you for now.

( slight nsfw below )

i do believe he is very vanilla, but is so whiny

he loves kissing down your stomach omgggg

no1. pussy lover

i think he enjoys being on top, having his face buried in your shoulder as he whines about how good he feels !

i think he gets shy during bjs but once he gets into it, he starts to feel more confident, and holds your hair up for you. either that or his fingers are just tangled in your hair.

gets turned on by pretty much anything you do.

kissing? he's hard. ur cooking? AND wearing an apron? he's hard. ur sitting on the settee, editing a video he has asked for help with? he's hard. this explains his song 'late for the reservation' as he got turned on by watching you put in earrings for date night.

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inevesgf · 1 year ago

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SOCIAL MEDIA⠀,⠀ chris dixon.

synopsis ✩ a walk through of your social media presence! inspired by @mrstelevision mwahh

face - claim: the LOVELY courtney eaton

authors note: first social media au <3 let me know what you guys think of it, reblogs are appreciated!

liked by chrismd, arthurtv and 900K others

youruser from the stands to the pitch, guess being in all those chrismd videos benefited me after all! — tagged sidemen and bambinobecky.

taliamar was rooting for you the whole time xx

youruser the kiss i blew at the camera was for u xx

xotbjzl MOTHER MOTHERED I LOVE YOU

chrismd youre telling me being in my amazing presence doesn’t benefit you? i’m heartbroken

youruser 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

chrismd youre so mean to me

xixlibs please just kiss already

theobaker best player on the pitch, besides me

youruser this is why you got injured

w2ksi y.n here bullying everyone and i am so here for it

liked by arthurhill, callux and 849K others

youruser a not-so-aesthetic photo dump (chris ruins it) — tagged chrismd, theburntchip and taliamar

bambinoyn they are so in love i can’t explain it

chrismd love you too ❤️

youruser 😚

wroetomd i know theyre joking but im holding on to CRUMBS. ok??????

taliamar peep us being wasted af in the first pic

youruser oops..

arthurtv tag yourself. im the dog

youruser that you are! 😊

geenelly arthurtv disstrack when?????

liked by miniminter, calfreezy and 865K others

youruser so lucky to b apart of your beautiful day 🤍 heres uk youtubes royal wedding on film x — tagged taliamar, calfreezy, polaroid and theburntchip

taliamar love you beyond comprehension 🤍🤍

youruser the most beautiful bride ever xx

freyanightingale most beautiful photos ever 😍

theburntchip freezy and i are such stunners

calfreezy Real mate

xixjzl everyone looked so good :,)

chrismd what a handsome devil .. and then there’s freezy and chip ..

talsmar4ever HELLO??? HELLO?? CHRISYN NATION ARE WE SEEING THIS???

xodixon WE ARE WHAT THE FUCK

liked by arthurtv, calfreezy and 799K others

youruser ski trip shenanigans 🎿 — tagged chrismd, calfreezy, willne, wroetoshaw and arthurtv

calfreezy you slayed on the slopes

youruser please NEVER say slay again, but thank u ☺️

w2love harry lookin TOO fine

chrismdlvr SO MUCH CHRIS LATELY they HAAVEE to be together i swear

chrismd can ski better than me

youruser yeah it’s because you’re not tall enough to ski, the skis are too far apart for you x

xow2s yeah girl you tell him

bambinobecky where was my invite!!

youruser youre lucky you weren’t there, i had to share a room with arthur and he smells like shit

arthurtv EXCUSE ME??!??

youruser love u ☺️

liked by chrismd, zerkaa and 932K others

youruser having one shell of a good time in croatia

hrtzerkaa THIS HASSS TO BE A HARD LAUNCH

calfreezy bunch of studs on a boat

theobaker your puns are terrible

youruser almost as bad as your sun burn?

chrismd she tried to drown me

youruser yeah with my love and affection duhhh

whiped4lewis OK EVERYONE STAY CALM

obsessedwyn OH MY GOD????

taliamar twitter will have fun with this one!

youruser you know it ;)

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sdmnpact · 3 months ago

Note

Hey I heard u like writhing fan fics based of songs well I have a idea for George Clarke the song sports car by Tate McRae

Sports Car.

George Clarke x Reader fic, smut

♪ Now Playing: Sports Car by Tate McRae ♪

**This contains a bit of smut, so please read at your discretion. These parts will be labeled with asterisks(*) **

~~~

You and George were driving around trying to find something fun to do. It was a cold Friday night and you two were bored out of your minds. Going to a pub was the plan but you just know it was going to be rowdy and it made you lose interest in the idea. You looked over to George who was driving. He was concentrated on the road, so you stared at him taking in his features, his curly brown mullet covered by a baseball cap, his jacket which resembled that of a letterman, his bluish eyes as they scanned the road in front. No doubt that you thought he was handsome, but it was never like that.

Friends was all you were, neither of you had a partner so you mostly spent your free time together. Unbeknownst to you, he loved spending time with you. Everyone knew he didn't have a missus but they always suspected you based on the way he would talk about you. You didn't make many appearances in his videos but when you did, the comment section would go wild shipping you two together, begging for it to be a real relationship.

You wanted it as well but you knew it would just complicate things. You'd rather just spend time with him, like this, as friends.

"Bowling?" He questioned turning to look at you causing you to quickly look away. "Um, nah, not feeling very athletic tonight." You turned to look out the windows feeling the blood rush to your cheeks slightly embarrassed he had caught you staring. He continued driving aimlessly. He didn't mind it at all, just being here with you was enough to satisfy him. After a few more minutes he pulled over on an empty road as most people were either at home or at the pub. You looked up towards the blue tinted streetlight that illuminated the vehicle.

"So… what now?" you asked, your voice softer than usual. He glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips, and you suddenly felt warmer despite the cold night. He unbuckled his seat belt , then leaned over to undo yours. "Why don't we just hang out here for a bit?" His warm breath hitting your face as he turned towards you, scooting as close as he could. "Okay..." You said with a slight laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Usually there was never an awkward moment between you two. The silence always felt easygoing or comforting, but right now, it felt different. It didn't feel like it was between two friends but instead two people, both with feelings for each other, feelings that needed to be released. A sort of tension was building up as he stared into your eyes, a sense of lust filling his. "Maybe it'd be more comfortable if we sat in the backseat?" He suggested as you just nodded your head. The two of you shifted towards the backseat, one seat with nothing separating you.

He sat close to you, both of you feeling comfortable enough to interlock your legs or grab each others arms. Your legs rested on top of his lap as he pulled you closer by your waist. In his mind, he was trying to warm you up in this already heated car. You didn't mind as you wrapped your arm around his waist under his jacket, feeling the warmth that was harboring underneath. Not a single word was spoken as you stared longingly into each others eyes.

You saw his gaze move towards your lips, you slightly tugged on his shirt as a way to let him know, it was fine. He leaned forward and planted his lips on yours. You felt you heart begin to flutter as you leaned into the kiss moving against his lips. His grip on your waist getting tighter as he pulled you closer. Your hands moving out from under his jacket moving towards his face, cupping his cheeks. You went from resting on him to fully straddling him.

The small space only pushing you two closer together. The heater on full blast and the grinding of your bodies together creating a sauna in there causing both of you to get very hot, very fast. He quickly pulled off his jacket, pulling yours off in the process. You were both hungry for more, he pulled off your shirt leaving you in only your bra and pants. He moved his kisses from your lips, down your neck making sure to plant gentle kisses down to your collarbone. You slightly moaned as he continued his way down, lowering a strap of your bra, kissing your shoulder, looking up at you for a second wanting to see the pleasure he was causing you. His hand reached for the back of your bra undoing the clips, one by one, he removed it leaving you fully revealed to him.

He kissed you again starting from your shoulders down to your breast making sure to give equal attention to both. You let out a louder moan as he caressed them. His tongue doing wonders on you. You desperately wanted him pulling on his pants as he looked up and grinned at you. You reached, unzipping and pulling them down revealing his member. You reached for it, stroking it gently, slowly increasing your pace with each moan that escaped his lips.

He grabbed your face, kissing you rougher than last time as you continued to please him. You enjoyed hearing his precious moans and loving the way you're making him feel. Shortly after, you felt him twitch as you let go of him making him unable to finish.

You smiled slyly as you grabbed your bra off the floor. He was breathing heavily, sweat droplets on his forehead as his front hairs were now drenched. He sat back, watching you put your clothes on, licking his lips. You wanted more of him but you wanted him to wait for it.

"Done already?" He said pulling his pants back up. You looked at him as he was grinning sheepishly. You rolled your eyes as he pulled you back towards him wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Wanna take this back to my place?"

~~~

A/n

I assumed based on the lyrics that it would be okay to write a bit of smut but if not, feel free to lmk and I'll write another one! Thank you so much for the suggestion!! I hope you enjoyed!!

#george clarke #george clarkey #george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #fanfic #british youtubers

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w2soneshots · 22 days ago

Note

a saying bye to george before inside fic would be sooo cute :( maybe eith a little bit of smut too?

One week -George clarkey

words: 1.0k+

warnings: smut, head (fem rec), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, aftercare.

summary: before George leaves for a week to be on sidemen’s INside you and him spend a steamy night together.

notes: living for watching George on netflix every morning🙂‍↕️. Love this request, thank you babes🫶🏼. I hope you enjoy!!❤️‍🔥✨ (mini part two here)

Tomorrow George is leaving you for a week to participate in the sidemen's 'inside', a netflix television show where twelve people live in a house together with one million pounds up for grabs, though everything costs money.

When he told you he was going to be doing it you were so excited for him. Though, since you spend most of your time with him and you message whenever you're not together you knew you were definitely going to miss him.

You walked into your shared bedroom to see him packing. "Hi," you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his torso. "Hello darling." He turned around, now looking down at you.

"You alright?" He asked softly. You nodded slowly before replying, "just gonna be weird not having you here." He squeezed you tighter in agreement. "I know, I'm gonna miss this face," he said, running his thumb over your cheek.

"What're you packing?" You asked once you'd broke apart, inspecting his suitcase. "An toothbrush-" you interrupted him with a chuckle. "What?" He smiled, confused. "Just, 'A toothbrush', still can't believe a Jeremy Clarkson quote has become apart of your daily vocabulary."

"Oh, right. Yeah, I don't know why I picked that up to be fair," he replied. You took a step closer to him with a bright smile. "I think it's hilarious."

An hour later he'd finished and had everything at the door, ready to go for the morning. He sighed deeply as he plopped himself down on your large, comfy sofa. "Done?" You asked, putting your phone down. "Done," he confirmed.

You spent the rest of the night watching a movie and cuddling after you'd ordered one last big takeaway, since George was most likely going to be on a diet of rice and beans for the foreseeable.

Somehow, as the credits of the film played in the background, you'd ended up on George's lap, while the two of you slowly made out.

"Not gonna see you for a whole week... a whole week without sex," he whispered into your ear. You breathed heavily, lips puffy from kissing as you took in his words.

Your sex life was un-fucking believable in the beginning and the flame just never really burnt out... meaning, -even though you weren't animals and could go a week without fucking each other- you knew when he came home you were going to get straight into bed.

"Mmm... yeah. We should probably do it twice to make up for it?" You smirked. "Definitely." He flipped you onto the couch and your back hit the cushions. "Ow!" You yelled. The vibe changed and George's face turned white.

You reached behind you and pulled the tv control from underneath your back and flung it onto the rug covering the floor. He immediately calmed and let out a breath of relief. "All good, continue." You both burst out laughing before getting back to business.

He reached a hand back to pull his shirt over his head, discarding it... somewhere, you weren't paying attention and didn't actually care. You hummed happily as he leaned down to pepper kisses along your collarbone.

The both of you were savouring the moment, though were completely naked within a few minutes. George slowly made his way down your body, leaving bright purple marks as he went. When he settled between your legs you ran a hand through his hair. "Sure?" You asked. "Always," he replied before placing a kiss to your clit, making you tense in pleasure.

"Oh m' god George...!" You moaned out as he ate you out. His tongue going from circling your clit to sliding down your folds to dip into your aching cunt.

"George, George, George," you chanted, extremely close to the edge, which he was well aware of, "don't stop- I'm gonna-" you sank back into the pillows as your orgasm overcame your body, vision turning white.

"That was- fucking-" "yes it was fucking, good analysis sweetheart," he teased as his face met yours once again. You giggled as you pushed his shoulder playfully. "Very funny, now are you gonna fuck me or should I go to bed?" "The first one," he replied quickly. "Thought so."

George grunted and his face twisted when he finally pressed into you. "Jesus- god- always so- hmf- tight baby," he husked as he reached the hilt. Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your skull at the sensation.

"Move George, move." Your arms and legs wrapped around him, heels pushing on his lower back. Without hesitation he pulled his hips back until just his tip remained inside of you, then he plummeted back into you.

His rhythm picked up and you met his thrusts as the room filled with your lewd sounds. "I love you- ugh- so fucking much y/n," he breathed out as your bodies collided over and over again.

"I'm gonna miss you- and this, you and this," you said as his thrusts grew sloppy and you approached your second orgasm. "y/n I-" "I know, me too. Come for me," you cut him off.

The both of you came hard, one after the other. His body fell onto yours. Your breath's heavy as you recovered from the last thirty minutes. Nether of you said a word as he got up, reached down, took you in his arms and walked towards the bathroom, your head resting tiredly on his chest.

"Okay?" He checked as he set you down on the toilet before leaving for a split second to grab two towels, then he moved to turn the shower on, steam beginning to fill the room from the hot water. "Yeah, incredible," you replied, voice quiet as you remained slightly dazed.

You got up and joined him in the shower a moment later, the water immediately making you feel ten times better and cleaner. "Here," he poured your favourite body wash onto a loofah and began running it gently over your body.

Five minutes later you were both clean, dry and lying in your bed, savouring one of your last moments together before he became a netflix star. "Night," you whispered, breathing in his scent as he cuddled you. "Good night gorgeous, love you."

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clarkeyzzz · 3 months ago

Note

could you do one where the reader and george have an argument and she goes non verbal bcs of past trauma?

Bruises, Silence, and Bandages

george clarke x fem!reader

summary: a tense argument with george pulls you into the shadows of your past, but his patience and love remind you that healing doesn’t have to be done alone

warnings: Domestic Abuse, PTSD, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse, Mentions of Alcohol Abuse, Self-Worth Issues

note: Hey everyone, I just want to say that I truly apologize if this chapter made anyone uncomfortable. I wrote this with the knowlegde of an outsider, someone who has seen the effects of abusive relationships and the struggles of healing after them. I’ve done my best to approach these themes with sensitivity and respect, but I understand that everyone’s experiences are different. If anything in this story resonates with you, please know that you are not alone, and I hope you have the support and love you deserve. Thank you for reading, and please take care of yourselves. My mesages are always open 🤍

6.8k words

Masterlist

₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊

The afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your shared apartment. You stood in the kitchen, hands trembling as you gripped the edge of the countertop. George paced back and forth in the living room, his usually cheerful face contorted with frustration.

"I just don't understand why you won't talk to me about this!" he exclaimed, running a hand through his tousled hair. "We're supposed to be partners. How can we fix things if you won't even tell me what's wrong?"

You wanted to respond, to explain the tangled knot of emotions constricting your chest, but the words wouldn't come. It was as if an invisible hand had reached down your throat and stolen your voice. Your heart raced, and you felt the familiar panic rising.

George's voice grew louder, his accent thickening with emotion. "Is it something I did? Something I said in a video? For God's sake, just say something!"

The room began to spin, memories of past arguments crashing over you like waves. Your chest tightened as George's voice echoed through the apartment, his words blurring into distorted sounds. The room tilted, and you gripped the counter harder, your knuckles turning white. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the flood of memories threatening to overwhelm you.

Suddenly, you were back in that cramped, dimly lit apartment from years ago. The air was thick with the acrid smell of stale cigarettes and cheap beer. His voice—not George's, but his—rang in your ears, each word laced with venom. "You stupid bitch! Answer me when I'm talking to you!"

The sting of his palm against your cheek, the crash of a bottle shattering against the wall—it all felt so real, so present. You could almost feel the phantom ache of bruises long faded. You could feel yourself shrinking, becoming smaller and smaller until you were nothing but a speck of dust, desperate to be overlooked.

Back in the present, George's frustrated sighs pierced through the fog of your memories. "I don't understand," he muttered, his accent thicker than ever. "We were fine yesterday. What changed?"

You wanted to tell him, to explain that it wasn't his fault, that the raised voices and tense atmosphere had triggered something deep within you. But your throat constricted, and your tongue felt like lead in your mouth. The words were there, trapped behind a wall of fear and shame.

George's frustrated voice faded into the background as you sank deeper into the flashback. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps. The kitchen tiles beneath your feet seemed to tilt and sway.

"Are you even listening to me?" George demanded, his voice closer now. You flinched instinctively as he entered the kitchen, your body tensing for a blow that wouldn't come.

George's footsteps halted abruptly. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by your ragged breathing. Slowly, you opened your eyes, blinking away the haze of memory. George stood frozen, his expression shifting from anger to concern as he took in your hunched posture and pale face.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice gentler now. "What's happening? Are you alright?"

You tried to nod, to reassure him, but your body wouldn't cooperate. Instead, you slid down to the floor, your back pressed against the cool cabinet doors. George hesitated for a moment before carefully lowering himself to sit beside you, leaving a respectful distance between you.

The familiar scent of his cologne—a mix of sandalwood and citrus—helped ground you in the present. You focused on it, using it as an anchor to pull yourself away from the memories threatening to drag you under.

"I'm sorry," George whispered, his accent softening the words. "I didn't mean to shout. I just... I worry about you, you know? When you go quiet like this, I feel so helpless."

You wanted to reach out, to squeeze his hand and tell him it wasn't his fault. But your body remained frozen, trapped between past and present. In your mind, you could still hear the other voice—his voice—berating you, mocking your silence, twisting it into another reason to lash out.

"You're pathetic," the voice in your head sneered, an echo of your ex-boyfriend's cruel words. "Can't even speak up for yourself. No wonder he hates you."

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the intrusive thoughts. But they persisted, a poisonous whisper in the back of your mind.

George shifted beside you, the fabric of his hoodie rustling softly. "I'm here," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Whatever's going on, whatever you're feeling, I'm here."

His words, so gentle and understanding, were a stark contrast to the memories swirling in your mind. You remembered the constant walking on eggshells, the way your ex would fly into a rage at the slightest provocation. The way he'd grab your arm, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises, whenever you tried to leave during an argument.

You could almost feel the pain of those bruises now, your skin prickling with the memory of his touch. Your breath hitched, and you curled in on yourself, making your body as small as possible.

In your mind's eye, you saw yourself cowering in the corner of that dingy apartment, arms raised to protect your face from the blows you knew were coming. The smell of cheap vodka and sweat filled your nostrils, making your stomach churn. You could almost feel the cold, hard floor beneath you as you curled into yourself, trying to become as small as possible.

The memories shifted, and suddenly you were reliving the night you finally escaped. The adrenaline coursing through your veins as you hastily shoved clothes into a bag, the heart-stopping fear when you heard his key in the lock, the burning in your lungs as you ran down the street, not daring to look back.

In the present, George's warm hand gently touched your shoulder, causing you to flinch violently. "Love, you're scaring me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, tell me what's wrong."

You couldn't respond. Your mind was trapped in a loop of painful memories, each one more vivid than the last. The sound of shattering glass echoed in your ears, mingling with the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. You remembered the feeling of rough hands gripping your arms, shaking you violently as angry words were spat in your face.

George noticed your constant flinching every time he he spoke. His brow furrowing with concern. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly, his accent wrapping around the words like a warm blanket. "I would never hurt you. You're safe here, I promise."

A part of you wanted to believe him, to trust in the sincerity of his words. But another part, the part still trapped in the past doubted every word.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's okay. You're safe here."

His words, so gentle and reassuring, stood in stark contrast to the memories swirling in your mind. You remembered the constant walking on eggshells, the way your stomach would churn with anxiety every time you heard keys in the lock. The other man—your ex—had been unpredictable, his moods shifting like quicksand beneath your feet.

There were good days, of course. Days when his smile was genuine, his touch tender. But those moments were fleeting, always overshadowed by the looming threat of his temper. You recalled the first time he'd struck you—a slap that left your ears ringing and your cheek stinging. He'd apologized profusely, showering you with gifts and promises to never do it again. You'd believed him, desperate to cling to the man you thought you loved.

But the violence escalated. Slaps turned to punches, shoves became throws. Your body became a canvas of bruises and cuts, each one carefully hidden beneath long sleeves and thick makeup. The physical pain was excruciating, but it paled in comparison to the emotional torment. His words cut deeper than any blow, chipping away at your self-worth until you felt hollow inside.

The night it all came to a head. He caught you in the middle of packing your bags. He had obviously been drinking heavily, his words slurring as he hurled insults at you. The bottle of whiskey in his hand glinted menacingly in the dim light of the apartment. You'd tried to leave, to escape the suffocating atmosphere, but he blocked your path.

"Where do you think you're going?" he'd snarled, his breath hot on your face. "You're nothing without me. No one else would ever want you."

The memory of his fingers digging into your arms made your skin crawl. You could almost feel the sting of glass shards as the whiskey bottle shattered against the wall, inches from your head. The fear had been paralyzing, rooting you to the spot as he towered over you, fist raised.

In that moment, something inside you had snapped. With strength born of desperation, you'd shoved him aside as hard as you physically could and ran. You remembered the burn in your lungs as you sprinted down the street, the icy rain soaking through your thin t-shirt. You'd left most of you things behind—clothes, possessions, your entire life—but you were finally free.

The months that followed were a blur of cheap motels and sleepless nights. Every shadow made you flinch, every loud noise sent your heart racing. You'd changed your number, your email, even your appearance, desperate to erase every trace of your past life.

Slowly, painfully, you'd begun to rebuild. A new job, a tiny studio apartment, a handful of cautious friendships. But the scars remained, both physical and emotional. You jumped at sudden noises, flinched away from physical contact, and struggled to trust anyone who showed interest in you.

Then George had entered your life like a whirlwind of laughter and warmth. His YouTube videos had been a source of comfort during your darkest days, his goofy smile and infectious laugh a balm for your wounded soul. Meeting him in person had been surreal, like a dream come to life.

At first, you'd been guarded, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But George had been patient, his kindness unwavering. He never pushed, never demanded more than you were ready to give. Slowly, you'd let your walls down, allowing yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you deserved happiness.

Now, sitting on the cold kitchen floor with George beside you, you felt those walls threatening to rebuild themselves. The argument had triggered something deep within you, unleashing a flood of memories you'd tried so hard to suppress.

"Love," George's voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, soft and hesitant. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Can you look at me?"

You wanted to, to reassure him that this wasn't his fault. But your eyes remained trapped, held hostage by the ghosts of your past.

"Love," George's voice broke through the fog of your thoughts. "I can see you're struggling. Can I hold your hand?"

You wanted to say yes, to reach out and anchor yourself in his warmth, but your body remained frozen. Instead, you managed a small nod, the movement barely perceptible.

George slowly extended his hand, palm up, leaving it within your reach but not touching you. "Whenever you're ready," he murmured. "No rush."

His patience was a stark contrast to your ex's demanding nature. You remembered how he would grab you, forcing physical contact even when you shrank away. George's respect for your boundaries was both comforting and overwhelming.

You stared at George's outstretched hand, your vision blurring with unshed tears. The gentle invitation in his gesture was almost too much to bear. You wanted desperately to reach out, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, but fear held you back.

Slowly, trembling, you extended your own hand. Your fingers hovered just above his palm, not quite touching. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in your bones.

George remained perfectly still, his breathing slow and measured. "Take your time," he whispered, his accent wrapping around the words like a soft blanket. "I'm not going anywhere."

The kindness in his voice made your chest ache. You remembered a time when gentle words were rare, when every interaction was laced with tension and fear. Your ex had wielded words like weapons, each syllable designed to cut and wound.

You recalled the way he would twist your silence against you, using it as justification for his anger. "Why won't you answer me?" he would snarl, his face contorted with rage. "Are you stupid? Can't you even speak?"

The memory made your throat constrict, choking off any words that might have formed. You curled your fingers into a fist, pulling your hand back towards your chest.

George's expression softened with understanding. "It's okay," he murmured. "You don't have to if you're not ready."

With trembling fingers, you reached out, barely brushing George's palm. His hand remained perfectly still, allowing you to dictate the level of contact. Slowly, you pressed your palm against his, feeling the warmth of his skin seep into yours.

George's thumb gently stroked the back of your hand, the gesture soothing and grounding. "That's it," he whispered encouragingly. "You're doing great, love."

The gentle praise washed over you, chasing away some of the darkness clouding your mind. You focused on the sensation of George's hand in yours, using it as an anchor to pull yourself back to the present.

"I'm going to tell you five things I can see," George said softly, his voice steady and calm. "Is that okay?"

You managed another small nod, grateful for his attempt to ground you.

"Alright," he began. "I can see the sunlight filtering through the curtains, making patterns on the floor. I can see the little cactus on the windowsill that you bought last week. I can see the framed photo of us at the beach on the fridge. I can see the stack of cookbooks on the counter that we never use. And I can see you, love, right here with me."

As George spoke, you felt your breathing begin to slow, matching the rhythm of his words. The vivid flashbacks began to fade, replaced by the reality of your shared kitchen.

His last words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You felt a flicker of warmth in your chest, a tiny spark pushing back against the darkness that had consumed you.

"Can you tell me four things you can feel?" George asked gently.

You took a shaky breath, focusing on the physical sensations around you. Your voice was barely audible as you whispered, "Your hand. The cold floor. My... my heartbeat. The cabinet against my back."

George's smile was soft and encouraging. "That's brilliant, love. You're doing so well. How about three things you can hear?"

You closed your eyes, concentrating. "The clock ticking. A car outside. Your breathing."

"Perfect," George murmured. "Two things you can smell?"

"Your cologne," you said, the familiar scent bringing a sense of comfort. "And... coffee from earlier."

George's thumb continued its soothing motion across your hand. "Last one. Can you tell me one thing you can taste?"

You ran your tongue over your dry lips. "Salt," you whispered, realizing there were tears on your cheeks.

"There you go love," George said softly. "You're here, in our kitchen. You're safe."

The grounding exercise had helped pull you further from the grip of your memories. The kitchen came into sharper focus - the pale yellow walls you and George had painted together, laughing as you got more paint on each other than the walls. The mismatched chairs at the dinning table and the various pictures around the room.

George's smile was warm and encouraging. "That's brilliant, love. You're doing so well."

The praise washed over you like a soothing balm, easing some of the tension from your shoulders. You focused on your breathing, trying to match the slow, steady rhythm George had established.

"I'm sorry," you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse and unsteady. "I didn't mean to... to shut down like that."

George shook his head gently. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have raised my voice like that."

You wanted to explain, to tell him about the memories that had overwhelmed you, but the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you tightened your grip on his hand trying to get rid of the pins and needles from your fingertips.

George's thumb traced gentle circles on the back of your hand, his touch feather-light and comforting. "You don't have to explain anything right now," he murmured. "But whenever you're ready to talk, I'm here to listen."

His words, so full of patience and understanding, made your chest ache. You almost couldn’t believe that there was a time when silence was met with anger, when every moment of hesitation was twisted into an excuse for violence. Your ex had never been able to handle your non-verbal episodes, viewing them as a personal affront rather than a symptom of your trauma.

You could still hear his voice, harsh and mocking, echoing in your mind. "What's wrong with you? Can't even string a sentence together? Pathetic."

The memory made you flinch, your body tensing involuntarily. George noticed immediately, his brow furrowing with concern. "It's okay," he soothed. "You're safe here. No one's going to hurt you."

You wanted to believe him, to trust in the sincerity of his words. But years of conditioning had left their mark, making it difficult to separate past from present. In your mind's eye, you could see your ex looming over you, his face contorted with rage. You remembered the sickening crack of his fist connecting with your jaw, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth.

The phantom pain made you wince, your free hand instinctively moving to touch your face. George watched the movement,his eyes widening with a mix of realization and horror. "Oh, love," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Did someone... did someone hurt you?"

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, shame and fear warring within you. What if George saw you differently once he knew? What if he decided you were too broken, too damaged to love? Your silence was answer enough.

George's grip on your hand tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to ground you in the present. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, his accent thickening with emotion. "I had no idea. I never meant to... God, I'm such an idiot."

His self-recrimination made you want to protest, to assure him that it wasn't his fault. But the words were stuck, your throat constricting around everything you want to tell him.

As if sensing your inner turmoil, George spoke again, his voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable with. But I want you to know that whatever happened, it wasn't your fault. And it doesn't change how I feel about you."

His words pierced through the fog of your anxiety, touching something deep within you. You felt the tears now slipping down your cheeks, then another, until you were crying silently, your body shaking with the force of your sobs.

"Can I..." George hesitated, his voice uncertain. "Would it be okay if I hugged you?"

The question caught you off guard. Your ex had never asked for permission, taking what he wanted without regard for your feelings. George's consideration brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

Slowly, you nodded, uncurling yourself from the tight ball you'd formed. George moved carefully, telegraphing his movements as he shifted closer. He wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in warmth and the comforting scent of his cologne.

For a moment, you tensed, your body remembering a time when embraces led to pain. But George's touch remained gentle, his arms loose enough that you could easily break free if you needed to.

"I've got you," he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. "You're safe. I promise."

Gradually, you allowed yourself to relax into his embrace, your tears soaking into the soft fabric of his hoodie. George held you patiently, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back while the other cradled your head against his chest. You could hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat, its rhythm grounding you in the present.

As your sobs subsided, replaced by quiet sniffles, George began to hum softly. It was a familiar tune, one you recognized from his videos - a silly little jingle he'd made up for a brand deal. The gentle vibrations of his chest as he hummed sent a wave of comfort through you, chasing away the last tendrils of your panic.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. "I didn't mean to fall apart like that."

George's arms tightened around you fractionally. "You have nothing to apologize for," he said firmly. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I never meant to trigger you like that."

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at his face. George's eyes were red-rimmed, his cheeks damp with tears of his own. The sight made your heart ache. You'd never meant to cause him pain.

"It's not your fault," you managed to say, your voice hoarse from crying. "You didn't know."

Slowly, you allowed yourself to relax against him, burying your face in the soft fabric of his hoodie.

George took a hesitant breathe, his hands rubbing your back. "It's okay," he murmured. "You don't have to tell me about it. Just... can you look at me? Please?"

Slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his. As George's eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of concern and tenderness that made your heart ache. "I love you," he said softly, his accent wrapping around the words like a warm embrace. "I love you, and I would never, ever hurt you. You know that, right?"

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with sincerity. You wanted to believe him, to trust in the love shining in his eyes. But years of abuse had left their mark, making it difficult to separate past from present.

"I..." you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know you wouldn't. Not on purpose. But..."

George waited patiently as you struggled to find the words, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. The gentle touch grounded you, giving you the courage to continue.

"My ex," you said, the words feeling like broken glass in your throat. "He... he wasn't a good person."

George's expression darkened, but he remained silent, allowing you to speak at your own pace.

"At first, it was great. He was charming, funny. Made me feel special," you continued, your gaze fixed on a point over George's shoulder. "But then... things changed."

You told him everything. The first time your ex raised his voice, making you flinch. The way he'd grab your arm, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. The constant criticisms, chipping away at your self-esteem.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself to continue. "It started small. He'd get angry over little things, yell and throw things. I told myself it wasn't that bad, that everyone argues sometimes. But then..."

Your voice trailed off, memories flooding back. George squeezed your hand gently, encouraging you to continue.

"The first time he hit me, I was so shocked I couldn't even cry," you whispered. "He apologized immediately, swore it would never happen again. I wanted to believe him."

George's jaw clenched, but he remained silent, letting you speak.

"It only got worse after that. The violence escalated, and so did the emotional abuse. He'd call me worthless, stupid, tell me no one else would ever want me. And I believed him."

Tears streamed down your face as you recounted the worst moments - the times you'd hidden bruises with makeup, the nights you'd lain awake in fear, the way you'd slowly lost touch with friends and family until he was your whole world.

"I lost myself," you admitted, tears streaming down your face. "I stopped talking to friends, quit my job. Everything I did, every decision I made, was about keeping him happy. But it was never enough."

George's arms tightened around you, a protective gesture that made your heart ache with a mixture of gratitude and residual fear.

"The night I left," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, "He was angry about... God, I don't even remember what. Something small. Insignificant. He left. I could take it anymore, I started to pack. When he came home he was so angry.” You took a strained breathe as you continued.

“But that night, I thought he might kill me," you admitted, your voice barely audible. "He'd been drinking, and he was so so angry. Something in me just... snapped. I ran, and I didn't look back."

George's arms loosened around you as he took in the severities of you words, his own tears falling into your hair. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "You didn't deserve any of that. You're so strong, so brave. I'm in awe of you.

George's voice broke as he whispered, "I love you. I love you so much, and I swear I would never, ever hurt you like that."

His words, so earnest and heartfelt, broke something inside you. The dam you'd built around your emotions crumbled, and suddenly you were sobbing uncontrollably, your entire body shaking with the force of your cries.

George held you tighter, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other rubbed soothing circles on your back. He murmured soft words of comfort, his accent thickening with emotion.

"It's okay, love. Let it out. I've got you. You're safe now."

You cried for what felt like hours, releasing years of pent-up fear, anger, and pain. George never wavered, his embrace warm and steady, anchoring you in the present.

As your sobs finally subsided into quiet hiccups, George gently pulled back, just enough to look into your eyes. His own were red-rimmed and puffy, his cheeks damp with tears.

"Thank you for telling me," he said softly. "I know how hard that must have been. You're so brave, love. So incredibly brave."

You shook your head, feeling anything but brave. "I should have left sooner. I should have been stronger."

George's expression grew fierce. "No," he said firmly. "You did everything you could to survive an impossible situation.”

George cupped your face gently, his thumbs wiping away your tears. "Listen to me," he said, his voice soft but firm. "You are not weak. You are not stupid. You are a survivor, and I am in awe of your strength."

His words, so different from the cruel taunts you'd grown accustomed to, made fresh tears well up in your eyes. George continued, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I love you," he said, each word weighted with sincerity. "I love your kindness, your humor, your resilience. I love the way your eyes light up when you talk about things you're passionate about. I love how you always remember to water the plants, even when I forget. I love the little dance you do when you're excited about something."

You felt a warmth blooming in your chest, pushing back against the cold fear that had gripped you earlier. George's words washed over you, soothing the jagged edges of your pain.

"I love the way you scrunch up your nose when you're concentrating," he continued, a soft smile playing at his lips. "I love how you always make sure to ask our delivery drivers if they want a bottle of water. I love your strength, your courage, your ability to keep going even when things get tough."

"I promise you," George continued, his accent wrapping around the words like a warm blanket, "that I will spend every day showing you how much you're worth. I'll remind you of your strength when you forget. I'll hold you when the memories get too much. And I'll always, always ask before I touch you."

As if to demonstrate, he held out his hand, palm up. "May I hold your hand?"

The simple gesture, so respectful of your boundaries, brought fresh tears to your eyes. You couldn’t understand stand how you shed so many tries in such a short amount of time. Wordlessly you took his hand. His words, so full of admiration and love, broke something inside you. You sobbed openly, clinging to him as years of pent-up emotions poured out. George held you through it all, his presence steady and comforting.

As your tears subsided, George gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the lingering wetness on your cheeks. "Thank you for trusting me with this," he said softly. "I know it couldn't have been easy to talk about."

You managed a watery smile, feeling lighter than you had in years. "It wasn't. But... I'm glad you know now. I've been carrying this alone for so long. Thank you for listening," you whispered.

George pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Always," he promised. "You don't have to carry it alone anymore," he said, his voice filled with quiet determination. "I'm here, whenever you need me. Whether that's to talk, or just to sit in silence, or... anything through everything. The good days, the bad days, and everything in between."

You leaned into his touch, allowing yourself to believe in the sincerity of his words. The fear and shame that had held you captive for so long began to loosen their grip, replaced by a tentative hope.

"I love you," George said again, his voice thick with emotion. "Every part of you. Your strength, your resilience, your kindness. I love the way you laugh at my terrible jokes, and how you always remember to water the plants even when I forget. I love how passionate you get about your favourite books, and the way your eyes light up when you talk about your work."

His words washed over you, chasing away the lingering shadows of your past. You looked up at him, really looked at him, taking in the sincerity in his warm brown eyes, the gentle curve of his smile, the faint stubble on his jaw that he'd forgotten to shave this morning.

"I love you too," you whispered, your voice hoarse but steady. "So much that it scares me sometimes."

George's smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you adored. "Good scared or bad scared?" he asked, a hint of his usual playfulness creeping back into his tone.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound watery but genuine. "Good scared," you assured him. "Like... like standing at the edge of something amazing and wonderful, knowing that jumping in might change everything."

"Well," George said, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, "I'm right here beside you, ready to jump whenever you are."

George's smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you adored. He leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn't. Instead, you met him halfway, your lips meeting in a kiss that was soft and sweet and full of promise.

When you finally pulled apart, George rested his forehead against yours. "I know I can't erase what happened to you," he said softly. "But I promise, I'll spend every day trying to show you what real love looks like. If you'll let me."

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. George understood, pressing another gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Come on," he said, slowly getting to his feet and offering you his hand. "Let's get off this cold floor.

How about we make some tea?"

You nodded, allowing him to help you up. Your legs felt shaky, and you leaned against him for support as you made your way to the living room. George guided you to the couch, wrapping a soft throw blanket around your shoulders before heading to the kitchen.

You could hear him moving around, the familiar sounds of kettle boiling and mugs clinking providing a soothing backdrop. The apartment was bathed in the warm glow of late afternoon sunlight, casting long shadows across the floor. You focused on the little details around you - the framed photos on the wall, capturing moments of laughter and joy with George and your friends; the collection of houseplants on the windowsill, each one carefully tended; the stack of board games in the corner, evidence of cozy nights in.

George returned a few minutes later, carrying two steaming mugs. He handed you one - your favourite oversized mug, the one with little cartoon cats all over it. The scent of chamomile and honey wafted up, warm and comforting.

"Thank you," you murmured, wrapping your hands around the mug and letting its warmth seep into your palms.

George settled beside you on the couch, close enough that you could feel his presence but not so close as to crowd you. The two of you sat there on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms, as the afternoon sun slowly shifted across the room. The argument that had been forgotten.

As the afternoon light shifted, painting the room in soft golden hues, George spoke softly. "I've been thinking," he said, his voice gentle. "Maybe we could look into couples therapy? Not because there's anything wrong with us," he added quickly, "but to help us communicate better, especially about... about your past."

You considered his words, turning the idea over in your mind. The thought of opening up to a stranger was daunting, but the idea of having professional help to navigate your trauma and its impact on your relationship was appealing.

"I think... I think that might be good," you said slowly. "But can we maybe start with individual therapy for me first? I feel like I need to work through some things on my own before I'm ready to tackle them as a couple."

George's face lit up with a mixture of relief and pride. "Of course, love. Whatever you need. I'm so proud of you for considering it."

His words warmed you from the inside out, chasing away the last lingering chill of your earlier panic. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," you murmured. "For being so patient with me. For not giving up when I shut down."

George pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for a moment. "I'll never give up on you," he murmured. "You're worth every bit of patience and understanding I can give."

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, sipping your tea and watching the play of light across the room. As the shadows lengthened, George spoke again, his voice soft and hesitant.

"I've been thinking about my videos," he said. "I know I get pretty animated sometimes, especially when I'm gaming. Do the loud noises or sudden movements ever... trigger anything for you?"

You considered his question, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Sometimes," you admitted. "But it's not just you. Loud noises in general can be difficult. And when you get really competitive with the boys, the shouting can be a bit much."

George nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration. "What if I put up soundproofing foam?" he suggested. "It would cut out the really loud bits. And I could try to be more mindful of my volume when we're filming."

The fact that he was willing to make changes to his content, his livelihood, for your comfort brought tears to your eyes. "You don't have to change your whole style for me," you protested weakly.

"I want to," George said firmly. "Your comfort and well-being are more important than any video. Besides," he added with a grin, "my editors have been begging me to tone it down a bit anyway. They say I'm giving them hearing damage," he chuckled softly.

You managed a small smile, touched by his willingness to adapt. "Maybe we could work on some signals?" you suggested hesitantly. "Like, if things get too intense during filming, I could give you a sign to dial it back a bit?"

George's eyes lit up. "That's good idea. We could have a little system, like traffic lights. Green for 'all good', yellow for 'getting close to the edge', and red for 'need to stop now'."

His enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself nodding along. "That could work. And maybe... maybe we could have a code word? For times when I'm feeling overwhelmed but can't quite explain why?"

"Absolutely," George agreed immediately. "What word would you like to use?"

You thought for a moment, then smiled. "How about 'cactus'? Like that little plant you got me when we first moved in together."

George's face softened at the memory. "Perfect," he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Cactus it is."

As the evening wore on, you and George continued to talk, making plans and setting boundaries. You discussed ways to handle future arguments, strategies for dealing with your non-verbal episodes, and how to navigate intimacy with your trauma history.

As you sat there, wrapped in George's arms, you felt a sense of peace settling over you. The weight you'd been carrying for so long felt lighter, shared between the two of you. The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow across the room and highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air.

You could hear the faint sounds of the city outside - cars passing by, the distant laughter of children playing in the park down the street. Inside, the apartment was quiet save for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and the gentle rhythm of George's breathing.

Your gaze wandered around the room, taking in the little details that made this space feel like home. The bookshelf in the corner, filled with a mismatched collection of your favourite novels and George's gaming guides. The framed photo on the coffee table from your first vacation together, both of you grinning widely at the camera, your eyes shining with excitement.

Your eyes landed on George's filming setup in the corner - the ring light, the carefully arranged backdrop, the high-end microphone. It was a stark reminder of the public life he led, the thousands of fans who watched his every move online. For a moment, anxiety gripped you. What if they found out about your past? What if they judged you

Your anxiety must have shown on your face, because George squeezed your hand gently. "Hey," he said softly, "what's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

You hesitated, not wanting to burden him with more of your fears. But his patient, loving gaze encouraged you to open up.

"I was just thinking about your fans," you admitted quietly. "What if... what if they found out about my past? What if they judge me, or think I'm not good enough for you?"

George's expression softened, a mix of understanding and determination crossing his features. "Love," he said, his voice firm but gentle, "my fans don't get a say in our relationship. And anyone who would judge you for surviving what you've been through isn't worth our time."

He shifted, turning to face you more fully on the couch. "But more importantly, you are more than good enough for me. You're brilliant, kind, funny, and so incredibly strong. I'm the lucky one here."

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, chasing away some of the chill of your anxiety. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I love you," you whispered, the words feeling inadequate to express the depth of your feelings.

"I love you too," George replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "More than I can ever say."

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching as the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, casting the apartment into a gentle twilight. The soft hum of the city outside became a soothing backdrop to the quiet moment you shared. George shifted slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around both of you, his warmth a steady presence against your side.

"Hey," he murmured after a while, his voice thick with exhaustion but filled with tenderness. "No matter what happens, we're in this together. Okay?"

You nodded against his shoulder, the weight of his words settling deep in your chest. For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel so terrifying. It felt possible when filled with quiet moments like this, with laughter, with love.

George pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, and you closed your eyes, letting the steady rise and fall of his breathing lull you into calm.

The past had left its scars, but as you sat there, wrapped in the quiet strength of his love, you realized something profound: you were healing. Not all at once, not perfectly, but step by step. And with George by your side, maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t have to do it alone.

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