#georgeclarkeey fluff

[gabbytvclarke]

pls could you do one where r doesn’t drink- maybe because of childhood or something else, and is worried what the boys (like the Arthurs, Chris, batch) will think, but George just supports and loves her? comfort and fluff omg 💔

I love this idea, sorry it took so long to come out! ____________________

Party Pooper // George Clarke

• Summary: George and Chris throw a surprise homecoming party for Arthur Hill, but y/n is nervous about being pressured to drink. • Pairing: Boyfriend!George Clarke x female!reader • Angst and fluff • Warnings: crying, trauma, alcohol • Word count: 2,167 words

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

She flicks through Netflix on her boyfriend’s TV, her free hand grips her thigh to stop it from bouncing. Struggling to concentrate on picking a film, her mind races with the thoughts of tomorrow’s party. George and Chris are planning a homecoming party for Arthur Hill, following his recent tour. Naturally, the party is at their shared flat and of course, y/n is invited.

Chris is visiting his family at the moment, planning to return in the evening, so y/n and George have had the place to themselves the past couple of days. Not enough noise to block our her worries. George returns from the bathroom, having seemingly found a couple of packets of balloons on the route back to the sofas. His eyes are furrowed as he counts how many are in each bag, ensuring the amounts match the numbers listed on the front.

“Still not decided on a movie yet?” He asks casually as he briefly glances to the TV.

“Hm? Oh, no not yet.” Y/n replies quietly, gazing towards the floor.

“I know I’ve asked this already this morning, but are you sure you’re OK? You don’t seem your usual self.” He asks, dropping the packets on the table and taking a seat next to his girlfriend. They haven’t been together long, 3 months officially since meeting on Hinge a month prior. Already he knows her too well.

“I’m OK, just a little nervous about tomorrow…” She mumbles.

“Nervous? You��ll be fantastic, the guys adore you. And don’t worry about helping me decorate, Chris will be here.” He rubs her leg gently with his hand, his eyes glued to her face as she continues glancing ahead. “I can send an Uber closer to the time if you’d rather spend more time relaxing and getting ready.”

But y/n knows she won’t be relaxing, she’d rather be there to help get the place ready to distract her if anything. Actually, she'd not go if she could, despite wanting to. “You won’t be driving so you don’t need worry about drinking either.” He adds.

Just the word sends shivers down her spine. She feels awful, she loves his friends too, but she ran out of excuses to not drink ages ago.

“Y/n?” George asks, his voice laced with concern. She doesn’t want to talk about it, but she doesn’t want to worry him by avoiding the topic either. She puts her hand on his, giving it a gentle squeeze and paints a smile on her lips.

“Sounds good, now what shall we watch?” She asks as nonchalantly as she can, picking the remote back up and pointing it towards the TV.

“Oh no you don’t,” George states with a small smile, reaching over and taking it off her. He switches the TV off and turns more to face her, taking her hand in his. “Something’s been bothering you recently, what’s wrong darling?” He asks, tilting his head down but looking up at her through his eyebrows. She’s struggling to find her words as she gets lost in his beautiful but worried eyes.

“It’s nothing, I’m all good.” She dismisses. She wants to tell him, but he’s so excited for tomorrow and she doesn’t want to bum him out.

“Look at me baby.” He reaches over and takes her other hand, his thumbs gently brush over her knuckles. “Please, just tell me.”

She feels her chest begin to tighten, her eyes sting. “I… I need the toilet.” She stands to her feet suddenly and awkwardly heads toward the bathroom.

“Do you not like my friends?” George calls out abruptly, a hint of sadness in his tone. She stops in her tracks. “Because if you don't, you really should tell me.” His voice softens. She turns to him and her heart sinks at his anxious expression. “They’re good people.” He adds.

“It’s not that at all.” She states.

“You’ve been avoiding hanging out with them for a while now, I can't help but worry.” He says, watching her face. Her eyes begin to water, the dam breaking.

George’s eyes go wide, he rushes to his feet and approaches her softly. “Oh no, I’m sorry y/n. I didn’t mean to-“

“You didn’t… you didn’t do anything. It’s me.” She speaks slowly, wiping her tears. George’s breathing shallows, thinking the worst. Thinking this is their relationship over, or something to that effect.

“Did something happen?” He asks, trying to keep his voice calm, but his eyes scream his real thoughts. He reaches his arms out and she accepts, stepping into his warm embrace. She sighs as she lets the tension in her body fade.

“It’s the drinking.” She states, the most coherent and yet painful sentence she’s been able to utter all morning.

His shoulders relax a little, but he’s still confused. “The drinking?” He leans back and looks at her again, his hands resting on her shoulders.

“Yeah.” She murmurs. His hand slides down and takes hers as he leads her back to the sofa. They sit down together as her sobs die down a little. “I’m not comfortable with drinking alcohol. It sounds ridiculous, but I went through a lot as a kid.”

Still holding George’s hand, y/n retells the traumas of her childhood, all of her bad memories linked directly to alcoholism. George listens and nods along. It all makes sense now; their dates never involved alcohol and if they did, y/n was the designated driver. Or she had an 'early start' the next day, or simply nominated herself to be the sober friend of the night.

What he hears hurts him but right now, he knows that she needs him to be strong. She cries harder once she's done explaining, as George pulls her into a hug, rubbing his hands up and down her back. “There, there.” He whispers as his eyes well up. They remain hugging for a couple more minutes as they both calm themselves.

When y/n pulls away, she sees George’s red eyes, making the blue stand out more. “Oh George, this is why I didn’t want to say anything.” She coos, brushing her hand over his cheek.

He leans his head into her palm and presses a small kiss into it. He lets out a defeated sigh, a faint smile on his lips. “Don’t be daft, thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.” He whispers. They both head to the bathroom to wipe their faces down.

His bloodshot eyes gaze at her through the mirror. “If you don’t want to come over tomorrow, I’d understand. I can make up an excuse for you.”

“I want to be there, that’s why I’m so frustrated with myself.” She replies calmly. “And I don’t even mind if everyone else drinks, I just don’t want to be a party pooper by being the only one not drinking ”

George chuckles as he hugs her from behind, still looking at her in the reflection. “The only way you can poop on this party, is by not being there, and by not being your amazing self.” He kisses her cheek.

“Noted.” She giggles as she takes his hand and they head back out to the lounge area.

She’s back scrolling through Netflix again, the fog in her mind clearer and a weight off her shoulders. “Are you OK now darling?” George asks, carrying a blanket and snacks over.

“I really am, thank you, and of course I’ll help you decorate by the way. You boys will do a terrible job without me!” George chuckles and tickles her side.

———

The next day, she hears George’s cheerful rhythmic knock on her door. His jaw drops when she opens it. She looks gorgeous. “Wowee!” He shouts as he twirls her and gives her a tight hug, making her giggle. “Ready?”

They get in the Uber together. “How are you feeling?” He asks her quietly. She gives him a playful smile. “I promise I won’t keep asking.” He adds.

“I’m excited, but a little nervous still. Nothing compared to how I felt before though.” She smiles at him genuinely this time as she answers. George nods, relieved.

The decorating takes no time at all. It would’ve been even faster if y/n didn’t have to keep rehanging things that Chris shoddily puts up. More people begin to show up, bringing drinks and snacks, and helping the three lay them out for the party.

As people mingle and wait for Arthur’s return, George shows y/n that the top shelf in the fridge is full of her favourite still drink. She gives him a peck on the lips to thank him. “I still don’t know what to tell them though.” She whispers in his ear.

“If they offer you a beverage, a ‘no thank you’ should suffice.” He smiles back, stroking her cheek. “And if anyone persists, come get me.”

———

“SURPRISE!” They all yell as Arthur drags his suitcase through the door. He is a little taken aback, his grin wide.

“Ah! Thank you!” He yells awkwardly, his reaction a little underwhelmed.

“Did you know we were here?” Isaac asks, a party blower hanging out his mouth.

“A bit,” Hill sheepishly replies, “Arthur said something about it yesterday.” He gestures to Arthur TV, who’s donning a guilty smile. Chris starts telling him off as he puts his hands up to surrender.

“I’m sorry, it just slipped out!” Arthur TV pleads.

The party is a hit. With George being the social butterfly and fluttering between the guests, y/n sits more comfortably with the girls. Liv makes herself a cocktail. “Do you want one y/n?” She offers kindly.

“Oh, no thanks, I’ve still got mine!” Y/n replies, holding up her non-alcoholic drink. Sabine take a sip of her freshly made 'Liv special' cocktail.

“You’ve been drinking those all night, you sure you don’t want to mix it up?” She asks, holding her glass out closer for y/n to smell the drink.

“No really, I’m fine. These are my favourites.” Y/n replies sweetly.

George, Isaac, and Chip join them, having missed their girls already.

“Having fun?” George whispers in her ear, his voice a little off from his drinking.

“I really am, thank you baby.” She giggles back, keeping him steady.

“Sorry, you probably don’t want my beer breath in your face.” He mutters with a guilty grin. Y/n waves his worries away.

“You smell great George.” She replies with a smile, before pecking his lips. He’s then called over by Danny to take shots.

“Duty calls!” George smirks, he rushes off to their table. Y/n decides to make herself useful, acting as a photographer and taking pics and videos on her phone.

Arthur Hill slides in next to her while she scrolls through her photos. “Thanks for this y/n.” He says with a smile, resting his elbow on her shoulder.

“It was George who arranged it, Chris and I just helped decorate the place.” Arthur looks around at the stringers, banners, and balloons while she replies sweetly.

“Yeah but, this is all you.” He protests, gesturing at the decorations. He gives her a hug. “Thank you. Feels like it’s been ages since we’ve hung out.” He murmurs against her cheek.

“Oi! Hands off!” George shouts with a smirk, pointing his finger at the pair and making them cackle.

———

Y/n fetches another one of her still drinks from the fridge. She’s hoping that keeping one on her at all times will stop her from being offered anything else. The plan was working, until she sees the table.

“Beer pong!” Chip roars with his fist in the air. Some of the boys gather around him, while George is across the room chatting to Harry. Picking up a ping pong ball, Chip peers over at y/n. “Ladies first.” He says with a sneer, handing the ball out towards her.

“Oh, no thank you!” She replies, raising her own drink and taking a sip.

“Aw come on y/n! A beer won’t hurt!” Chip whines. Y/n declines further, her cheeks heating up, but the other boys join in with begging her too.

George, having heard his girlfriend’s name from across the room, casually joins the table.

“Clarkey, tell y/n to man up and join in!” Chip whinges, the Arthurs and Isaac nodding in agreement. George puts his arm around y/n’s shoulder.

“Oh, she won’t be playing,” George states nonchalantly, “y/n doesn’t drink, but I'll take her place.” Her breathing hitches for a moment, she looks at the boys’ expressions and awaits further complaints. She waits for them to say the party’s ruined, that she's spoiling it for everyone else. But they don’t.

“Fair enough, sorry about that y/n.” Chip replies with friendly grin, shrugging and passing the ball to George instead. The boys begin their game as if nothing happened. He turns to y/n and winks at her.

“What just happened?” She asks him with a confused smile.

“I told you, they’re good people. Love you.” He beams, kissing her cheek before bouncing the ball across the table.

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

A/n: Thank you anon for the request, this was my first angst piece. I hope I did your prompt justice ♥ - Gabby xo

[w2soneshots]

Hello I was wondering if u can write a George Clarke fan fic based on the sidemen charity match and also I REALLY LOVE your writing it’s so amazing like I can never stop reading it like damnnnnnnnn

My man -George clarkey

words: 0.8k+

warnings: none!

summary: you watch George play in the sidemen charity match… along with all the trials and tribulations before and after the game.

notes: heyyy! Thank you love🫶🏼. I’ve done a match fic for Harry and I had a few people ask for a George one so of course I’m delivering, because he looked gorgeous🙂‍↕️. I hope you enjoy girlies!!���💫

Liked by arthurtv, behzingagram and others

y/username: my man scored at Wembley today!!🥹💗

-comments-

georgeclarkeey: 88th minute babyyy

max_balegde: don't you mean OUR man?!😌

-> y/username: hahaha of course Max😂

y/nfanpage21: he did so well omfg

user: THE MULLET. I'm gonna faint

"Good morning darling," George greeted you just as you opened your eyes. He stood looking down at you, already fully dressed in his kit. "I've got to go to breakfast but I'll see you before we leave," he said before pressing a kiss to your forehead, "love you."

You spent your morning slowly getting ready and he returned to your room just as you finished. You smiled as he walked towards you, arms extended for a hug. "Good luck baby. You'll be fine... don't stress too much," you whispered reassuringly before he hugged you tighter and then pulled back.

He let out a deep breath. "I'm shitting myself." You chuckled quietly. "I'm sure you won't be on long enough to fuck it up anyway," you joked. He playfully squeezed your hip. "Go and enjoy it. I'll see you afterwards. I love you," you spoke softly. He nodded then turned to leave, though he stopped himself, gave you a long kiss and only then did he leave.

y/username posted a new story!

"Oh my god. There he is!" You shouted -a little louder than you'd meant to- as you spotted George on the field, warming up with the rest of the sidemen team. Max perked up next to you and began filming him. You looked at the zoomed in screen and laughed loudly when you saw the picture he'd just taken. "That's hilarious, please send it to me."

y/username posted a new story!

George wasn't in the starting eleven for the game, but after a little while he was finally subbed in. You, Max, the two Arthur's, Bach and every fan girl in the stadium cheered when his name was called on the intercom.

You watched intently as the game progressed. It was a little bit hard to fully keep up with what was happening, since you were so high up, but your eyes just followed the brown, curly mullet.

When it reached half time everyone that was in one of the friends and family boxes headed inside to get some food. You were sat opposite max when you received a message from George, "everything good? x" You smiled slightly at your phone. "Just enjoying the free food. You're doing so well, everyone's cheering you on babe! xx" you replied swiftly.

y/username posted a new story!

After half time, the game continued. Goal after goal was scored and it was unbelievably close. Everyone was on the edge of their seats. Just as it was nearing the end the score was even on eight all.

Tobi took a kick from the corner and then just as you thought it was going in George followed and kicked it into the net. "Ahh!" You all stood and cheered, your hand covering your mouth in shock.

You watched the screen to see the close up video of him celebrating, Chris and Will hugging him as well, even know they were on the opposite team. You were close to tears seeing how happy he looked. He'd been so nervous so you were glad he got his moment.

y/username posted a new story!

Unfortunately Theo scored just before the game finished, equalising. It went to penalties and ultimately the sidemen's team lost, though it was all for charity and you weren't really bothered about the final result since you just wanted to see your boyfriend.

y/username posted a new story!

y/username posted a new story!

You didn't see George after the game since he went back on the team bus with the rest of the players and you got a taxi to the after party with the Arthur's, Bach and Liv so you only got to see him once you were both back at the hotel.

When you finally saw the players walking through the doors your eyes searched the crowd of black and red kits until you saw him. A bright smile spread across the both of your faces when your eyes met.

The minute he reached you he flung his arms around you and sighed into your shoulder. "You were incredible George," you whispered. "That's made my year," he replied gently. You pulled back and kissed him, which is something you don't do often since nether of you are big on pda but it just felt right.

y/username posted a new story!

y/username posted a new story!

The rest of the night was spent celebrating and getting slightly pissed. As soon as you and George got back to your room and your heads hit the pillows you fell straight asleep, back against his chest; his arm wrapped around your middle while the both of you soundly slept, after one of the best days ever.

[viagracex]

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.

[mrsclrakey]

Omg new request!

So again its about Inside. So what if the reader and George have been dating before the show and they decidated to keep it secret so nobody knows that they are dating. And then its gets reavelad in the shoking questions or spill your guts or spill the tea.

OR

Just simply reader being in the temptation room because George has been whining constantly about how much he misses his girlfriend, and he obviously loses it the moment he steps into the room.

Thank you for the request I did the one about the temptation room so hope I you like it

STORY NAME-The Temptation Room

George had been suffering.

It had been days of filming, and at this point, he didn’t even care about the challenges, the punishments, or the embarrassment. No, what was truly breaking him was the fact that he hadn’t seen you.

And he would not shut up about it.

“I actually think I’m dying,” he groaned, dramatically flopping onto the couch. “I can’t function properly without her.”

“Oh my God,” Simon sighed. “Can we please get this man a picture of his girlfriend or something?”

“A picture wouldn’t do shit,” George grumbled. “I need to see her. I need to hold her.”

JJ snickered. “Man’s acting like he’s been deployed.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “If I have to hear about this girl one more time—”

“Then let’s do something about it,” the producer cut in, smirking. “George, welcome to the Temptation Room.”

The room erupted in laughter and cheers, clapping as George shot up, immediately on edge.

“What? No. No, no, no.” He pointed at the producers. “You lot are evil.”

“Go on, then.” Harry smirked. “Let’s see if you actually have the willpower.”

George let out a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he stood. “It’s fine. I’ve got this.”

The others burst out laughing as he walked toward the door.

And then he stepped inside.

The second his eyes landed on you—sitting there, comfortable, waiting for him—his entire body froze.

It was dead silent.

His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. His hands shook. His breathing hitched. His brain short-circuited.

And then—

A broken noise escaped him as he sprinted toward you, launching himself onto you so hard that you nearly toppled over. His arms crushed you against him, his face immediately burying into your neck as he clung to you like he was afraid you’d disappear.

The mic picked up everything.

The sharp intake of breath. The little gasp he let out. The slight shake in his voice when he breathed out, “Oh my God.”

The reactions outside were instant.

“WAIT—”

“NAH, WHO IS THAT?!”

“GEORGE, ARE YOU ACTUALLY CRYING?”

The boys were losing it, banging the walls, shouting over each other.

But George didn’t care. He was too busy inhaling the scent of your perfume, wrapping himself around you like a lifeline. His voice was muffled against your skin as he rambled.

“You’re actually here. I’m not dreaming. I haven’t gone insane. Oh my God, babe.”

You laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. “Hi, love.”

He whined—physically whined—before pulling back just enough to look at you. His hands cupped your face, eyes scanning every inch like he was memorizing you all over again.

“You are so unreal for this,” he whispered. “I don’t even care that they know. I missed you.”

And then, in one swift motion, he kissed you—deep, desperate, like he was making up for every second apart.

The moment was immediately interrupted as the boys stormed in.

“AYO, WHAT THE F—”

JJ’s cackling filled the room. Simon was doubled over. Ethan was literally screaming. Harry was just standing there, hands on his head.

“THIS IS A SETUP.”

George, still holding you, turned to them with zero shame. “Yeah. And?”

And just like that, the secret was out.

But judging by the way he refused to let go of you, you doubted he cared.

[lvrslvt3]

CHRISTMAS TREE DANCING | g.clarke

main masterlist | youtuber masterlist

౨ৎ george clarke x reader

౨ৎ summary : reader tries to get her boyfriend and his friends to dance

౨ৎ warnings : none

౨ৎ notes : this is so boring but i just wanna post icl

the glow from the christmas tree reflected on your face, casting shadows as you danced around the kitchen. the cookie dough you had been making was finally in the oven - despite you starting it almost an hour ago - but your playlist distracted you once again.

“what the hell are you doing?” arthur giggled at you as he came out of his room, confused on what the noise was. you motioned him over, but he shook his head. “do you not know how to dance to proper music?” you questioned him teasingly.

“I don’t dance unless i’m drunk, end of.” he muttered as chris came out, the sound of conversation luring him out of his room. “chris!” you glanced over at him, “care to dance?” you questioned, which he chuckled and shook his head at.

you threw your head back, moving your way over to them and grabbing them, spinning them around one at a time. “you guys have to start dancing, that’s why your so stressed all the time.” you informed them, which they clearly disagreed with as they shot you looks.

you ignored them and instead turned to the doorframe, feeling the stare of your boyfriend. george was leaning against the doorframe as you tried to persuade his roommates to dance with you.

“george.” you didn’t even have to ask, all uou had to do was smile and dance over to him, grabbing his hand and spinning him around. it took some effort, going on your tip toes and still not reaching over his head but he bent down so you could.

he let you pull him into the kitchen, watching with a giggle as his friends laughed at the pair of you before turning around and retreating back to there rooms. he then focused on you as you spun around and bumped into his chest.

you broke you into a fit of laughter as you wrapped your arms around his neck, swaying side to side as he circled his arms around your waist. “i love you.” you looked up at him with a cheesy grin, to which he quickly returned.

“I love you mostest, sweetheart.” he leaned down to give you a kiss. once he pulled back you separated the two of you, keeping his hand in yours as you continued to dance with the christmas tree reflecting on the pair of you.

[clarkeyhill]

Pick Me Up| Arthur Hill

Fluff

You'd been having a stressful few days, Arthur was away for a trip with the boys and you were at home. You didn't realise how much you would miss Arthur until he left for the trip, he was in hvar with Chris and George.

It was the last of Arthur's trip, he'd sent you multiple pictures of his finds that "made him think of you" whether it be sea shells, buildings he thought you'd like, or flowers that he googled the meaning of which resonated your green flag traits.

arthurnfhill posted:

Liked by chrismd10,yourusername,georgeclarkeey & 5,000 others

arthurnfhill : As much as I'm enjoying Hvar, I can't help but be reminded of what I have back in London. Just some of the things I've spotted that reminds me of @yourusername 🤍

Yourusername: crying on the tube😭

Chrismd10: pass the sick bucket 🙄

Georgeclarkeey: so this is why we stopped at the seashell stand multiple times

-

Your face lights up at Arthur's post, no matter how far apart you were there was always a reminder of you somewhere that he couldn't help but notice. You continued working round the flat, preparing the boys return in a mere few hours. Although the boys never make you do anything around the house. You had your eyes set on doing atleast something. You stripped everyone's beds, empty any rubbish they might have, lit a candle in each other rooms as the washer run. You blitzed the house with the mop, unable to resist the urge to change the house round a tad. You placed new sheets on every bed. You'd been busy the few days they'd been gone and invested in a "mini bar" for each of their rooms for when they're editing/filming or just chilling in their rooms.

You assembled their little drinks fridges as you filled them with their favourite drinks& snacks. Plugging them into each of their walls so they'd be cold for when they got home. The boys were due to land at 7pm and it was now 6pm. You'd offered to go and pick them up from the airport instead of them waiting for an Uber with a load of luggage. You'd not driven round London for a while so the nerves racked in as you walked to the car park. The air warm as you started the car. Heading to Heathrow.

You park the car in the car park and head to their terminal, your heart races as the thought of being reunited with Arthur. You'd missed him and it'd only been 4 days.

Suddenly you hear the clatter of suitcases from above the escalator and you a familiar laugh. You stood at the bottom as the walked round the corner, a smile plastered on Arthur's face as he speed walked down the escalator, dropping his case to roll as he scoops you up. Embedding his head into your neck

"I've missed you so much" he squeezes you tightly

"I've missed you too baby, welcome home" you kiss his cheek as he places you down

"Have fun boys?" You gesture walking over to George and Chris for a hug

"It's beautiful out there, we'll arrange to go again all of us this time, so we don't have to stop at the sea shell stand every two seconds" George chuckles

Arthur shakes his head as he laughs "I've got something for you" he says gesturing to his hand luggage

"Is that so?" You look at him intrigued as he unzips his bag

He pulls out a square box, with a little seashell font on the front as he hands it you

You open the lid to reveal a necklace with little seashells around it, the middle a little heart with your initials engraved onto them, your eyes well up as you stand in the middle of rhetorical airport

"I love it" you look up to it as tears form once more, you embrace him for a hug as the boys smile at your both.

"Let's go home" you say as you grab Arthur's suitcase, making your way to the car.

The drive home was full of laughter, sharing the stories of their trip and how amazing it was, Arthur's hand brushed against yours as you changed gears. A feeling of warmth rushed over you as you were glad to have him back home.

You get back to the flat and kick your shoes off, wheeling all the luggage in

"Now before you all disappear, I want you to all look in your rooms next to your filming desks" you say smiling

The boys look at you confused as they start to walk to their bedrooms. You stay in the kitchen as you wait for their reactions.

"Oh my god" Chris says shocked

They all emerge at the same time "our own fridges?" George asks

"Yes, your own fridges filled with your favourite snacks and drinks so you're always stocked up. I know I don't have to do anything around here but I feel as though apart from being Arthur's girlfriend, you're both my bestfriends too who have welcomed me so effortlessly and I wanted to pay you all back" you say with a smile

They all walk over to you for a group hug, smiles appeared on everyone's faces

"We've all missed you" Arthur's says with a smile

"Yeah y/n, we really have. You're like our mum at this point" Chris chuckles as does George

You shake your head as they all wheel their luggage to their rooms, Arthur holding back to hug you once more. "It's good to be home" he says with a soft smile

"you don't know how good it is" you say kissing him softly

-

🫶🏻

[clarkeybabey]

❝ swirled you into all of my poems ❞ | masterlist

i prefer my readers to be 16+, suggestive/smutty stories will be marked with [ * ], id like to keep those strictly 18+. angst with [ a ], fluff with [ f ]. if you spot a ✦ before the story, its one of my personal favorites;)

if you are below the ages mentioned, please don't interact!! however, if you choose to proceed im not responsible for what you consume.

multiple part stories will be marked as such, they can absolutely be read as standalone.

Alfie Buttle ✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ abvloggin!

coming soon!

Arthur Frederick ⋆₊ ⊹★🔭 arthurtv!

wish you were sober [ f + a ] — if only he was sober.

i'll do it better than he can [ * ] — he doesn't really like your new boyfriend

i wanna tell the world that you're mine, girl [ f ] — the unplanned relationship announcement

✦ I wouldn't give these nobodies no sympathy [ a + f ] — some things do get under his skin

Arthur Hill ✩°｡⸜ 🎧 arthurhill69!

playing my heartstrings like a rockstar [ a + f ] — you're messing with his feelings and he doesn't know why

but i'ma be under the mistletoe with you [ * ] — kissing under the mistleto

Chris Dixon ₊˚⊹ ᰔ ⚽️ chrismd10!

coming soon!

George Clarke  ⊹₊ ⟡⋆🍒 georgeclarkeey!

everybody wants a taste [ a + f ] — unfortunately, you are the jealous type

✦ i need you to fill the void [ f ] — someone spoils your secret

cuddle up to me [ f ] — anonymous asked: Please can you write something about clarkey loving a cuddle and the boys come home and tease him

Harry Lewis 🥂 ࿔*:･ wroetoshaw!

✦ we don't even fight anymore [ a ] — watching everything come to a slow end

James Marriott 🎸˚｡𖦹☆° jamesmarriottyt!

coming soon!

Morgan Burtwistle 𓍢ִ໋ 🏟 ✧˚ ༘ angryginge13!

coming soon!

Tobi Brown 📜࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ tbjzl!

coming soon!

Will Lenney ༄˖°.🍂 willne!

coming soon!

🖇·˚ ༘ + Friends !

no seriously get your hands off my man [ f + * ] miss possessive, ft. miniminter

‧₊˚ ☁️ Headcanons + Social Media au's!

hanging up on them without saying "I love you" [ f ] — ft: arthurtv, arthur hill, chris, george, harry, & will

charity match!bf!clarkey [ f + * ] — ft george clarke

she's insane, she wrote a song about me — ft: exbf!chrismd x oc, singer/songwriter!reader x lando norris - sm!au

[tinycoffeeroom]

podcast crush | arthur hill

face claim: steph bohrer ♡

request: here !

requested: Hey just wondering if you could maybe write something like either Arthur’s girlfriend or crush goes on the podcast and it’s just like cute fluff or Arthur’s girlfriend supporting him at Leeds festival and like calming him down hahah no worries if not x

��──────── ౨ৎ ─────────

👤 max_balegde liked by max_baledge, arthurnfhill and 79,038 others

y/nstagram on a date, do you think he's nervous?

andrew_spanndy rue, when was this ↳ y/nstagram andrew, baby, you weren't supposed to find out like this... ↳ max_balegde can you blame me? look at her xx ↳ andrew_spanndy i'm just mad i wasn't invited 😞 ↳ y/nstagram next time it's just you and me babygirl 💗 ♥️ andrew_spanndy

arthurnfhill i would do the same thing ↳ y/nstagram awww you flatter me xx ↳ fan my parents who don't know they're my parents and aren't together but should be

fan y/n is so gorgeous please i am on my KNEES

fan not arthur flirting in her comments AGAIN can y'all just kiss or smth

arthurtv what did you say to make him do that? 😭 ↳ y/nstagram wdym i just looked hot and it happened ↳ arthurtv humble as always y/n ↳ y/nstagram ok mr "posts topless selfies to distract from his lack of rizz" ↳ fan gagged a lil ↳ arthurtv :((((((( ↳ y/nstagram i'm sorry pooks, you know ily xx

georgeclarkeey so... getting you on the pod when? ↳ y/nstagram you couldn't afford my fee x ↳ max_balegde your fees a redbull and a blue razz vape ↳ y/nstagram unprovoked??? ↳ max_balegde THE LAST PICTURE SAYS OTHERWISE???

mummysboypod we could afford your fee y/n (heart) ↳ y/nstagram i'd do it for free for lisa xx ↳ lisahull_hill y/n my lovely girl ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram absolutely adore you ❤️ ↳ arthurnfhill can't believe my mum loves y/n more than me ↳ fan 🤨 ↳ arthurnfhill more than she loves me* oops ↳ fan ur not slick arthur.

👤 arthurnfhill liked by mummysboypod, arthurnfhill and 80,829 others

y/nstagram charitably graced his podcast and he thanks me by mocking my poses 🙄

fan EP OUT WHEN??? ↳ y/nstagram mummysboypod? ↳ mummysboypod next week! :)

fan WHERE IS LISA???? ↳ y/nstagram the lisa pics are for me and me only ↳ lisahull_hill silly girl, we all know the real reason why i'm not on here! ↳ fan LISA SPILL PLEASE ↳ lisahull_hill you'll have to wait for next weeks podcast! :P

arthurnfhill maybe i just thought it was a snazzy pose ↳ y/nstagram hmm ofc you did 🙄 ↳ arthurnfhill full of attitude today aren't you 🤨 ↳ y/nstagram who me? 😇

fan MUMMYS BOY POD WITH Y/N I DREAMED OF DAYS LIKE THIS

fan i need y/n biblically ♥️ arthurnfhill ↳ fan like i said before ur not slick arthurnfhill

bachandarthur us next? 🥺 ↳ y/nstagram anything for my pookies 🫶 ↳ arthurtv don't bother

MUMMYS BOY PODCAST WITH Y/N L/N TRANSCRIPT EXCERPT

LISA: So, my sweet Y/N, how have you been? Y/N: I've been good! My youtube and tiktok have been taking off so it's been a bit hectic! LISA: Oh yes, I forgot you did the tikkytokky thing like Arthur. [ARTHUR AND Y/N LAUGH AT LISA SOFTLY] Y/N: Yes, I do the tikkytokky thing. It took a while to find my niche but I think I've finally found my place on there. LISA: I asked Arthur to help me set up an account so I could follow you. I love seeing your, oh, what are they called, Arthur? ARTHUR: Get ready with me's? LISA: Yes, that. You're always so happy, it makes me want to just... [LISA REACHES ACROSS TO PINCH Y/N'S CHEEK] ARTHUR: Mum, please unhand our guest. LISA: [LAUGHS] Y/N doesn't mind, do you sweetie? Y/N: Of course not! If it was Arthur on the other hand... ARTHUR: Ah yes, it's bully Arthur hour again. [LISA AND Y/N LAUGH] Y/N: What else are we supposed to do?

--

LISA: Oh, sweetie, before I forget, I still have the book you leant me last week! Y/N: The Song of Achilles? How did you find it? ARTHUR: I got a phone call of her crying her eyes out, you wicked woman. I thought something bad had happened! Y/N: Something bad did happen! They kept Achilles and Patroclus apart for so long... LISA: Oh, don't! You'll set me off again! I'm too scared to ask you for another recommendation! Y/N: [LAUGHS] I promise the next one won't be so sad! I just finished Romancing Mr Bridgerton which I think you'll really like! You've read the first Bridgerton book, haven't you? LISA: Oh yes, I loved it! Which sibling is the one you just finished? Y/N: It's Colin and Penelope! LISA: Their season is coming out soon, isn't it? Are you still coming round to watch it? Y/N: Where else would I be?! I've already planned the drinks and snacks for our Bridgerton marathon! ARTHUR: Can we not recommend regency porn to my mother in front of me? Y/N: And how do you know it's regency porn, Mr Hill? You told me you hadn't watched it. LISA: He wanted to know more about it since he knows you love it so much. ARTHUR: Mum! [LISA AND Y/N LAUGH AS ARTHUR LOOKS SCANDALISED] LISA: Oh, sorry, was I not supposed to say that? Y/N: How sweet of you Arthur, maybe you should come watch the new season with me and Lisa? ARTHUR: I refuse to watch the carriage scene in the company of my mother. [Y/N SQUEALS WHILST LISA BATS HER ARM] Y/N: So you've read the books? [SILENCE] ARTHUR: Ok, maybe I did...

--

LISA: You know, Y/N, you're such a lovely girl. Beautiful face, amazing personality and limitless prospects, how are you still single? Surely the guys must be beating down your door. Y/N: Thank you for that stellar review Lisa [LAUGHS]. Honestly, I'm quite happy with what I have at the moment! My careers taking off, I'm doing things I could only dream of and visiting places that are all over my pinterest boards. i'm not exactly looking for a relationship, but if one came along I wouldn't be opposed to seeing where things go! ARTHUR: Mum - LISA: [SHUSHES ARTHUR] so if you were looking for someone, what do you look for? Y/N: Why? Do you have someone in mind for me? [LAUGHS] [LISA SHRUGS] Y/N: Well I guess, if I had to choose, I'd love someone family oriented. I love my family more than anything on this earth so it would be nice to find someone who has the same ideals as me. Someone kind, of course, warm and funny. Someone with hobbies and passions we share but also separate ones so we can have our independence. The appearance really doesn't matter to me, I'm more someone who leans into personality. But, I mean, if they were smoking hot, it wouldn't hurt! [LAUGHS] LISA: And your hobbies are...? Y/N: Why do I feel like I'm on take me out or something? [LAUGHS] I like music and craft... Hiking is fun sometimes! I have to include reading as well!. [LAUGHS] I also like visiting museums and art galleries. And, of course, makeup! LISA: Arthur likes art galleries too, he took me to the Tate Modern the other week to show me the new exhibit! Y/N: [SHOCKED EXPRESSION] without me? Arthur, how could you? ARTHUR: Oh, so now I can speak? Also, you said you were busy! LISA: You also like hiking, don't you Arthur? I remember all the selfies you sent me when you were in LA. ARTHUR: I do... where is this going, Mum? Y/N: Yeah, where is this going Lisa? [LAUGHS] LISA: [SHRUGS] Nowhere, was just making some observations.

--

liked by lisahull_hill, arthurnfhill and 89,028 others

y/nstagram bridgerton s3 pt 1 watch party with MOTHER ❤️ (lisa makes the best snack tables, i'm moving in immediately)

lisahull_hill there's always a bedroom here for you sweet y/nnie ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram lisa i'll cry right now, i love you 🥹

arthurnfhill that was the most awkward 4 episodes of my life ↳ y/nstagram i am so sorry (not) for laughing at your expression in ep 4 ↳ fan Y/N HOW DID HE REACT TO THE CARRIAGE SCENE ↳ y/nstagram he got up and walked out the room, we had to stop the show we were Howling ↳ arthurnfhill i will never forgive you for this ↳ lisahull_hill it's just a bit of sex arthur, grow up 😆

fan lisa loves her daughter (in law) ♥️ lisahull_hill, y/nstagram ↳ fan ur delusional (i believe you) ↳ fan real! ↳ fan i love her daughter (in law) too

fan y/n i NEED to know where that corset is from!!!! ↳ y/nstagram i got it from amazon, one sec i'll dm you the link 💓 ↳ fan everyone's favourite girl's girl

👤 lisahull_hill liked by y/nstagram, lisahull_hill and 139,028 others

arthurnfhill absolutely no reason why i'm uploading this specific set of pics :)

arthurtv bro is smoking hot

georgeclarkeey absolutely fuckin smoking babes

chrismd phwoar did it just get hot in here or is it me

italianbach who's this hottie over here? one could say he is smokin'

fan the gang hyping arthur up im SCREAMING

fan not him shooting his shot over ig... just message her my guy

fan museums ✅ family oriented ✅ music ✅ reading ✅ y/n please put him out of his misery

fan he wants y/n so bad but jokes on him so do we

fan y/nstagram please come get your man... ↳ fan y/nstagram ↳ fan y/nstagram ↳ fan y/nstagram ↳ fan y/nstagram ↳ fan y/nstagram please it's painful at this point ↳ fan y/nstagram

y/nstagram ??? wait you like me??? ↳ fan come the fuck on y/n he's fancied you for MONTHS ↳ y/nstagram ???!!!!!! i did not know????? ↳ arthurnfhill my mum has literally been trying to get us together for ages ↳ fan put him out of his misery PLEASE ↳ y/nstagram lisahull_hill ???!!!! elaborate lisa??? ↳ lisahull_hill oh he likes you a lot, i do too, that instagram user wasn't wrong when they said i love my daughter (in law)

y/nstagram come over right now. ↳ arthurnfhill 🫡🫡 ↳ fan WE WANT TO KNOW TOO???? Y/N SHARE WITH THE AUDIENCE????

👤 arthurnfhill liked by arthurnfhill, lisahull_hill and 92,820 others

y/nstagram smoking hot ✅ funny ✅ family oriented ✅ likes music and crafts (he made the tshirt and mug) ✅ kind and warm ✅ perfect boyfriend material if you ask me

fan OHHHH HOW I PRAYED FOR DAYS LIKE THIS

georgeclarkeey idk about funny? ↳ y/nstagram ur just salty i took ur man ↳ georgeclarkeey he may be your boyfriend but it's MY bed he comes home to xx

arthurtv HE'S ONLY GONE AND DONE IT LADS!!!!! ♥️ arthurnfhill, y/nstagram

chrismd maybe now he'll shut the fuck up about how pretty you are ↳ arthurnfhill jokes on you i'm about to double down ↳ chrismd i need to move out so bad

arthurnfhill the penelope to my colin 💚 ↳ y/nstagram come back rn i need to kiss you

fan he's pulled off the heist of the century!!!! ♥️ arthurnfhill

fan my gf's not my gf anymore :(

lisahull_hill my sleuthing works wonders! ↳ y/nstagram love you lisa ❤️ ↳ lisahull_hill arthur was right, i do love you more than him ↳ arthurnfhill MUM??? (understandable)

[w2soneshots]

Two becomes three -George clarkey

words: 2.4k+

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, sickness, worrying, birth.

summary: you and your husband George’s journey to unexpectedly becoming parents along with your social media posts during your pregnancy.

notes: hello my loves! Here’s the request. I love writing fluffy fics like this🥹. I hope you all enjoy this extra long one shot!!🧸🎀🤍 (please lmk what you think!)

Liked by wroetoshaw, mollymae and 934,125 others

y/username: baby has entered the chat @georgeclarkeey

-comments-

chrismd10: congratulations guys❤️

faithloisak: how cute!! So happy for you two🥹✨

max_balegdae: ahhhhhhhhh

y/nfanpage21: there's no fucking way!!🙊

user27549810: the random George jump-scare at the end lol

user60286430: didn't they just get married like five seconds ago?😅

I met my now husband George four years ago. He followed me on instagram, I followed him back and not long after that we were dating. Last year he proposed and just under a month ago we had our wedding, which was beautiful and only had our closet friends and family.

An hour ago I took a pregnancy test. I was only a day late on my period but I took it just in case. I could hardly believe it when I saw two lines and it was so faint that I convinced myself I was seeing things so I decided to sleep on it and then tell George when I knew for sure.

But I just couldn't keep it a secret. I blurted out, "George, I think pregnant." As soon as he walked through the front door after his shoot with Arthur tv. He was baffled. "You- woah- you think?" I nodded. He took a moment to process what I just said. "And you took a test?" He finally asked. "Yeah, the lines were really faint though. I was gonna wait until tomorrow to tell you but- it just came out."

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I let out a soft sigh of relief. "If you are then I'll be so happy," he whispered into my hair. I smiled, though he couldn't see me. "I'm so overwhelmed," I mumbled. His hand made its way up to my hair and he gently ran it over my scalp, silently reassuring me.

That night everything felt so strange. You're supposed to take the tests in the morning anyway for the most accurate results so we were just waiting and trying not to get our hopes up in case it wasn't positive.

The next morning I woke to an empty bed. I reached for my phone and then read the text George had sent me just ten minutes ago; "gone to buy more tests, hopefully I'll be back before you're awake x" I sighed softly then got up.

As I was brushing my teeth the front door clicked open and soon George was walking into the ensuite. He smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, looking at me through the mirror. "Ready, love?"

"You look. I can't." I quickly passed the upside down test to George as we sat on the end of our bed. Just seconds before, the alarm on my phone rung but I couldn't bring myself to look at the test.

He took it and flipped it over. A wide smile spread across his face as an excited chuckle escaped his mouth. "Seriously?" I asked, shocked. "Y- yeah, you're pregnant!" He shot up of the bed. I giggled. "I'm gonna be a dad!" He pulled me up and into a bone crushing hug.

The next two months weren't very fun. At the beginning we were both so ecstatic. Then the morning sickness hit. I could barely eat, sleep and it was becoming impossible to make up excuses for why I couldn't go out.

George was like my rock through the entire ordeal. He was by my side every time I had to run to the bathroom, he held me and gently stroked my back as I tried to get some sleep, he pleaded with the doctor when we went for my first appointment hoping there was something, anything they could do and he let me ramble on about how I just wanted to feel normal again.

Slowly our friends figured it out and offered their help. The girls put together a basket and Faith made sure to include everything that helped her through her first trimester, Chris came round to keep me company while George had to go and film something for a brand deal and George's sister sat with me as we online shopped since I couldn't really go out.

When the sickness slowly started to ease off everyone was so relieved, George especially because he hated seeing me constantly upset. I was finally able to enjoy pregnancy, announce it on instagram and suddenly the last few months were erased from my mind.

Liked by faithloisak, arthurtv and 513,290 others

y/username: love, hate relationship with the heat

-comments-

taliamar: you're glowing babe!!💞

-> y/username: 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

georgeclarkeey: 🐊

y/nfanpage21: the puppy🥹

user85299106: this is adorable

At twenty two weeks we went on our little baby moon. I spent twelve days relaxing in the sun while George fussed about suncream and making sure I was in the shade. Since becoming pregnant he's been much more protective, which I don't mind since it's never overbearing. He's just trying to help in anyway possible.

"Good morning sleepy head." George greeted me quietly, sitting on the side of the bed next to my sleepy form and gently pushing the messy hair from my face. "Mornin'" I mumbled, shuffling slightly. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead before asking if I wanted some breakfast, to which I immediately nodded.

We left our little apartment after getting ready and walked hand in hand down the street towards the cute little outdoor café we'd spent quite a few mornings in the past week and a half.

"Thank you." I smiled at the young girl handing me my pancakes. "Will that be all?" She asked politely after placing George's breakfast in front of him. I nodded and she walked away.

"Mmm, I'm so glad I can actually enjoy food again," I said after swallowing a mouthful of food. George just stared at me. "What?" "I just love watching you." I chuckled. "That sounds a bit creepy babe."

When the day came that our baby moon was over I was sad to be leaving such a beautiful place that I'd made life long memories in but I was secretly very excited to be going home and getting back into normal life.

Liked by chrismd10, taliamar and 623,309 others

y/username: clearing out my camera roll✨

-comments-

arthurtv: fifth slide?😭

-> georgeclarkeey:🫃🏼🤰

faithloisak: stunning!!!

y/nfanpage21: you, the bump, the flowers, all so cute💝

user10479624: you're both going to be the best parents

The next few months were spent relaxing and preparing for the arrival of our baby, who we found out the sex of just after our baby moon. We had a little gender reveal at our apartment with our families and a few special friends. We decided on a cake, classic, cute and delicious.

"I can't tell!" George announced. I stood next to him, my hand holding the knife that was cutting through the cake. Both of us were trying to peek at the sponge but it wasn't until I pulled the slice out that we spotted the pink.

Immediately the room erupted into cheers. I placed it down on a plate along with the knife and I turned to my husband. Tears welled in my eyes and when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body off of the ground the commotion around us seemed to disappear and all I could focus on was us.

"We're having a girl," I whispered, as though I was trying to convince myself that this was actually real. He gently placed me down, his hands landing on my hips. "I knew it. Dad intuition goes crazy." I giggled before pushing onto my tip toes and placing a loving kiss to his lips.

After that day I was suddenly obsessed with buying baby clothes, what the nursery was going to look like and the realisation hit me that I was actually going to have to push a human being out of my body, though George was quick to reassure me about that.

"Baby's the size of a small pineapple this week," I informed George as we sat on the couch, my feet resting on his lap as he slowly massaged them through my socks. I turned my phone around so he could see the app that keeps track of the baby.

"That's huge." He muttered, eyes widening slightly. I chuckled. "When she's done cooking she'll be the size of a pumpkin." "Oh god, I'm sorry." My brows furrowed, an amused look on my face. "What are you apologising for?"

"You're gonna have to lug around a pumpkin sized baby," he replied, deadly serious. I just laughed, though I wasn't particularly looking forward to that.

The months flew by and suddenly I was actually carrying a pumpkin sized baby in my stomach. At thirty seven weeks my back constantly ached, I needed to pee every five minutes, I wasn't sleeping properly since I had a future gymnast kicking around in my stomach and all in all I was just uncomfortable.

Since I could now go into labour at any second George was watching me like a hawk. Every grimace when I felt an extra strong kick, every sigh and every time my hand touched my stomach he would sit upright and just wait for me to say something.

"I'm fine, George," I'd say. "Just checking," he'd reply and that interaction would repeat itself another one hundred times before the day ended.

"I won't go if you don't want me to, Chris can find someone else last minute," George whispered as we lay in bed, my back pressed against his chest as he gently drew circles on the side of my bump. "No, I'll be okay. It's only a few hours," I mumbled back, half asleep. "Okay, just promise you'll call me if anything happens?" "Promise."

He left early the next morning to film the football video for Chris' channel, meaning I woke up alone. I went about my routine like normal though it felt like it was taking me longer to do my usual things, like I was moving at snail pace, which was slightly strange but I brushed it off.

An hour later I lay on the couch scrolling through instagram when I felt a twinge in my lower stomach. My brows furrowed slightly. "That was weird," I thought but I continued to scroll.

Until I felt it again. This time I decided to keep my promise to George and phone him. It ring a few times before he picked up. "Everything okay? Is it the baby?" He said immediately in a rushed tone. "I'm not sure, I just feel... weird."

He took in a shaky breath. "I knew I shouldn't have come today! I'm coming home." "It's fine, I'm- we're fine. Calm down-" "no no, I'll be there in twenty minutes, love you." And with that he ended the call. I sighed, feeling slightly bad that he'd had to leave the shoot but also a little relieved.

Just under twenty minutes later he burst through our apartment door. I stood in the kitchen, hands on the countertop as I took a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut. I heard his bags drop then the sound of his feet racing towards me.

"You said you just felt weird!" He placed his hand on the small of my back. I looked up at him as the pain subsided. "I did! It started getting worse after I called you."

George collected himself. "Okay okay, you're having contractions?" "Mhm, think so," I responded quietly. "How far apart?" "Like five minutes." He thought back to the birthing class we'd gone to last month. "I think we've got some time and the woman said the first kid always takes a while so let's not stress," he tried to reassure me and himself.

"I'll go get the bag, you just- uh... breathe." I chuckled softly, already calmer now that he was here. He emerged from our bedroom minutes later with the small suitcase in hand.

It took half a hour to get out of the door, drive to the hospital and get checked into a room. After that we could both relax.

The contractions weren't unbearable but I wanted the epidural as soon as possible. "Hmf-" I squeezed George's hand. "Another one?" He asked softly. All I could do was nod. "You're doing amazing sweetheart, so so good. I'm so proud of you."

Once I got the injection I felt like a million bucks. I couldn't feel the contractions, just a little bit of pressure. I sat in the bed happily as I ate my ice chips. Before I knew it, it was time to push.

Liked by sidemen, prettylittlething and 1,004,586 others

y/username: we've been in our little baby bubble this week but I wanted to officially introduce you to Maddie Clarke🤍👼🏼💫

-comments-

georgeclarkeey: my girls❤️

max_balegdae: yasss mother

taliamar: congratulations🥺💓

y/nfanpage21: I'M CRYING

user02781643: they're literally living the dream life omg!!

"She looks just like you," I said as I watched George's eyes fill with tears, his arms secured around his daughter, just ten minutes after she'd entered the world. He glanced down at me. "I love you so much, this is officially the best day of my life," he whispered. I smiled fondly and somehow I fell in love with George all over again, in a completely different way.

We spent a day and a half in the hospital before being discharged. It had been just me, George and the baby in a little room so it felt amazing to go home. I waddled after my husband as I watched him carry our newborn -who slept soundly in her car seat- out and toward the car. He strapped her in then helped me into the backseat.

"I get what people were taking about now," I said as he stared the engine. "Huh?" "I saw a video about the 'hot dad walk' out of the hospital and I totally get them." He chuckled, though he was cautious of the sleeping baby.

After a few days and once we were in somewhat of a routine his family came over to visit. His slightly younger sister was so excited and could barely keep quiet. "She's adorable. Oh my goodness, look at her little feet!" "Okay everyone, no touching until you've washed your hands!" He announced, pointing towards the kitchen sink.

I watched with a smile on my face as he fussed over whether Maddie's head was supported, it was extremely sweet how much he cared for and loved our daughter. I couldn't wait to watch as he became the best dad ever.

[viagracex]

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.

[w2soneshots]

a george clarkey x reader fic where they just constantly flirt and joke around but its in a video so everyone sees it and they start shipping them🥹

if not, thats totally okay!🫶🏽

Obvious -George clarkey

warnings: none.

summary: the internet impatiently wait for you and George to announce your extremely obvious relationship.

notes: hello lovely! I decided to make this into a social media au since I haven’t done one in so long and I’ve been waiting to use all the good George pics🤭. I hope you enjoy!!🌟💕

Liked by _gkbarry, arthurtv and 213,358 others

y/username: @georgeclarkeey had me working tirelessly to film content for you all today so he bought me lunch😏✨

-comments-

georgeclarkeey: ft my incredible camera skills

-> y/username: yeah tbf that first photo slaps

max_balegdae: slayed

y/nfanpage21: yassss f1!!🏎️

user64332985: they'd be so good together

y/username & georgeclarkeey

Liked by chrismd10, taliamar and 694,655 others

y/username: umm... sorry for the wait?

-comments-

_gkbarry: woooo so happy for u two❤️

arthurnfhill: hard launch!!!!!

y/nfanpage21: cutie patooties🥹💞

user45130946: omfg I didn't think this day would ever come

[mrsclrakey]

Hii! First time requesting!

Anyways could you make a fanfics about us being in the inside season two, while were dating George? But we didnt know that we would be there together? So like a fun surpise? And some sweet moment moments of us?

Tysm for requesting I really love writing this one and also I really love the show so far . The edits of George I have been seeing he looks so hot like look at our man , but anyway thank you for everyone liking and following me it’s means so much I didn’t know how many people out there really like reading my fics thank you I am so grateful to have a community like you guys❤️

STORY NAME-Unexpected Reunion

The bright studio lights shone down as you stood among the other contestants, nerves buzzing through your veins. You had signed up for Inside the Sidemen Show Season 2 on a whim, thinking it would be a fun challenge, but now that you were actually here—standing under the scrutiny of the Sidemen—you couldn’t help but feel a little anxious.

“Alright, time to introduce our final contestant,” Ethan announced, grinning as he glanced toward the entrance.

Simon smirked. “This one’s a good one.”

You raised a brow, confused, but before you could question it, the doors swung open.

And standing there, just as stunned as you were, was George.

Your George. Your boyfriend.

His mouth dropped open when he saw you, blinking in disbelief before breaking into a huge smile.

“NO WAY!” JJ cackled. “They KNOW each other?!”

“Wait, wait, wait—” Simon pointed between you two, narrowing his eyes. “Are you—?”

George let out an incredulous laugh, walking toward you. “What are the chances?!”

You laughed in shock, shaking your head. “Did you know about this?”

“Not at all!” He stopped in front of you, still grinning. “This is insane.”

The Sidemen watched in amusement as you and George shared a quick, slightly awkward hug—partly because you were still processing the surprise, partly because you knew you were on camera.

“This is either gonna be adorable or absolute chaos,” Tobi said.

“Both,” you and George replied in unison, making everyone laugh.

Challenges, Banter, and Sweet Moments

Throughout the episode, the Sidemen took full advantage of the situation, pairing you and George against each other in ridiculous challenges.

During a bizarre taste-testing challenge, George dramatically gagged at a mystery food. “Nope. Nope. This is actual poison.”

You smirked. “It’s literally just pickled onions.”

“I stand by what I said.”

Later, in a physically demanding challenge, the Sidemen made you and George compete head-to-head. At one point, you shoved past him to grab an item, and he gasped in fake betrayal.

“Wow. I thought we had something special.”

“You thought wrong.”

The Sidemen were howling with laughter.

But in between all the chaos, there were sweet moments, too. During a blindfolded challenge, George carefully guided you through an obstacle course, his voice soft and reassuring.

“You’ve got this, just take one step to the left—yeah, perfect. Now reach out, I’m right here.”

Somehow, hearing his voice made you feel calmer.

The Ending – A Sweet Victory

By the end of the show, you didn’t even care about winning—it was just fun getting to experience this with him. But when the Sidemen announced that you and George had won the final challenge, he immediately pulled you into a spin-hug, laughing.

“Power couple energy,” Vik teased.

JJ groaned. “Alright, get off the set before I throw up.”

George just grinned, slinging an arm around you. “Nah, you love it.”

And as the cameras stopped rolling, he turned to you, his voice quieter. “That was actually so much fun.”

You smiled. “Yeah. Kinda crazy how it worked out.”

“Kinda crazy,” he agreed, squeezing your hand. “But I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else.”

[w2soneshots]

Hormones -George clarkey

words: 0.7k+

warnings: angst (but mostly fluff), mention of periods.

summary: George’s humour slightly pushes you over the edge while you’re dealing with the worst week of the month, though he’s quick to make it up to you.

notes: hi! Here’s the request🫶🏼. I’m sorry for going MIA, I’ve just had a lot going on in my personal life recently and didn’t have the inspiration to write. George has been looking a little too good though so I was inspired to write something for him😌. Enjoy!!🤍✨

"Good morning darling," my boyfriend George cheerfully greeted me as I shuffled into the kitchen. I groaned as I sat down on a stool, placing my head in my hands. "You okay?" He asked softly. I looked up to see his eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Period," I replied bluntly.

"Ah," he sighed. "Well, uh- the boys are coming over today and we're supposed to be going to the pub later." "Okay." I mumbled. "Okay? Great. I thought you were going to throw a tantrum," he joked, though it didn't sound as funny as he thought it would.

"I'm not a child George," I turned towards the fridge. "Uh, didn't mean it like that... sorry." He rambled. "Mhm," I responded, the annoyance in my voice extremely audible.

I ate a quick breakfast then got back into bed. George, Chris and Arthur sat in the living room watching last night's darts game while I slept for a bit longer. I was woken to the sound of shouting, rage suddenly filled my veins. I threw the covers back and trudged towards the bedroom door.

"Could you be any fucking louder?!" I angrily exclaimed as I reached the end of the hallway. All three men turned to look at me, shock evident on their faces. "Sorry, uh- did we wake you up?" Chris asked calmly.

The anger faded and it was replaced with regret. "Yeah, it's fine. I shouldn't have snapped like that. Carry on, sorry," I mumbled before turning around, embarrassed.

The boys shared a look then George got up from the sofa. He followed me into the bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed. "They understand," he reassured me, squatting down so we were at eye level.

I ran a hand through my hair. "I was so mean," I muttered, my voice cracking slightly. I felt like I was about to cry. George wasn't sure what to do so he just sat next to me and pulled me into his chest, silently comforting me.

Subconsciously I drifted off to sleep in his arms. He stayed in the same position, gently stroking my hair, for another ten minutes before he carefully picked me up and tucked me into bed.

When I woke up the boys had gone out but George was sat next to me, scrolling through his phone. "Hey," I whispered as I turned onto my side so that I was facing him.

"How'd you sleep darling?" He asked softly, after immediately putting his phone down. His hand reached out and he softly pressed it to my cheek. "Good, I think that's what I needed. I thought you were going to the pub?"

"They went without me, I'd rather be here with you," he replied with the cutest smile ever. "As if I couldn't love you more," I muttered as I shuffled toward him. He slid his arm under my neck as I cuddled up to him. I let out a content sigh.

After lying there for a few minutes he took a deep breath. "So..." my head perked up. "Wanna fuck?" He joked with his silly little voice. "Oh shut up you dick." I chuckled and playfully slapped his chest.

The next day I felt a little better but still spent most of my morning in bed. George had to go film a video and left early in the morning. I woke up to a cold bottle of water, my favourite chocolate and a beautiful bouquet of flowers on my bedside table.

A huge smile spread across my face as I also noticed the cute little note that read "Get some well earned rest. Love you x". I knew he'd have to have gotten up even earlier to get those things for me so I sent him a heartfelt thank you text.

I got up, took a shower and put on some sweats. After making myself some lunch I got comfy on the sofa and picked one of my comfort movies to get lost in.

George got home just as the film finished and I jumped off of the couch to greet him with a kiss. "Woah!" He chuckled as I hugged him. "Feeling better I see." I smiled. "Yeah, much." He squeezed me slightly. "I'm glad." He whispered into my hair.

We spent the rest of the night in the apartment. We ordered a takeaway, chatted, watched whatever crap was on the tv and did a whole lot of laughing at each other's corny jokes.

[mrsclrakey]

Master list- August , fluff ,NO SMUT

⚽️🏟️More Than Just a Game🏟️⚽️

Silent Goodbye

Unexpected Reunion

The Quiet One

Rocking Out

Why Did You Let Me Go

Under His Care

Just YouTubers

Fun times

Just Pretend

me and you

Electric Nights

here with you

Against All Odds

Sun-Kissed

step away love

💤Dreaming of You💤

Stirring the Waters

Lost in Translation (But Not in Love)

Whispered Confessions

👐Too much👐

☺️Oblivious☺️

📸Lights, Camera, Heartbeat📸

👨Meeting the lads👨

🏃catch me if u can🏃

💞You might as well stay💞

💞My love💞

More then scars

Silver Screen Sweethearts

A Love That Faded

The Temptation Room

[mrsclrakey]

Can we get some George angst like dating reader but things get dicey because he always jokingly flirts with ppl and it ends in heartbreak on both sides .

Thank you for the request this story goes deep in my opinion I hope u guys like it

STORY NAME-Silent Goodbye

The night started off the way it always did. Laughter, drinks, the sound of everyone talking over each other in that chaotic, familiar way. You sat curled up on the couch next to George, his arm draped loosely over your shoulders. It should’ve felt perfect. But lately, there was a crack in the foundation—small at first, now widening with every passing joke, every lingering glance he gave someone else.

You tried to ignore it. You always did.

Then it happened again.

“Wow, you look amazing tonight,” George teased, grinning at one of your friends across the room. “If I wasn’t taken, I’d be all over you.”

A few laughs. A playful shove. The same old routine.

Except this time, it felt different. This time, something in your chest tightened, and before you could stop yourself, you let out a hollow laugh. “Right. Because boundaries don’t apply to you, do they?”

The room went quiet for a beat, but George just looked at you, confused. “Oh, come on. You know I’m just messing around.”

“No, George. I actually don’t.”

The air shifted. Everyone was watching now—friends sitting awkwardly, unsure whether to step in or stay silent. You could feel their eyes darting between you and George, waiting for what came next.

George let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “You’re seriously mad about this?”

Your nails dug into your palm. “I’m mad because it never stops. Every night, it’s a new person. A new joke. And every time, I’m supposed to just laugh it off like it doesn’t mean anything.”

He scoffed, sitting up straighter. “Because it doesn’t.”

“Then why does it hurt?” Your voice cracked on the last word, and you hated it. Hated that it made you sound weak when all you wanted was for him to understand. “Do you even care how this makes me feel? Or am I just supposed to sit here and smile while you flirt with everyone in the room?”

George’s jaw tightened, and for the first time, he didn’t have a quick response. Just silence.

That silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on both of you while the rest of the room watched, frozen in place. The realization settled in like a slow, sinking weight. This wasn’t just an argument. It was a breaking point.

And neither of you had anything left to say.

[mrsclrakey]

Could you write about having surgery scars that you're insecure about, but George makes you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world?

Tysm for the request I really enjoyed writing it, it kind of made me overthink a bit but I’m fine I hope you guys are doing ok if you need anyone to talk to I’m here and I can help you out

STORY NAME-More then scars

You stand in front of the mirror, fingertips ghosting over the faint, raised lines on your skin. The scars are a part of you now—reminders of what you’ve been through, what you’ve overcome. But sometimes, they feel like flaws, like something that makes you less.

You let out a quiet sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“You okay?” George’s voice comes from the doorway, gentle but curious. He steps closer, his reflection appearing beside yours in the mirror. His gaze drops to where your fingers rest against your skin.

You nod, but he knows better.

“Hey,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Talk to me.”

“It’s stupid,” you say, shaking your head.

“Try me.”

You hesitate, then sigh. “I just… I don’t like looking at them sometimes. I know they mean something, that they show what I’ve been through, but I don’t always want to be reminded.”

George doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, right where one of the scars fades into smooth skin. Then another. And another.

You shiver at the tenderness of it.

“I think they’re beautiful,” he finally says. “Because they’re yours. They tell a story, yeah, but they don’t define you. You do that.”

Your throat tightens, emotion creeping in, but George isn’t done. He turns you around, cupping your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, and nothing—nothing—is ever gonna change that.”

A small, wavering smile tugs at your lips. “You really mean that?”

“With everything I’ve got.” His expression is so sincere, so full of love, that the doubt in your chest loosens just a little.

And when he kisses you, slow and reverent, you believe him.