George Clarke Fics - Blog Posts

Bob

Description: Y/n is a barista at a local coffee shop, too bad the newest Barista doesn't know about his past selves mistake.

George Clarke was far from proud of the situation he has put himself in. Coming to the same coffeehouse since he was 10, back when the barista asked his name and he jokingly answered as "Bob, like the Sponge"

Its been years and as the people cycled through the shop his nickname remained. No matter what he got or who with, his cup would say "Bob, like the sponge" at times it would even have pictures of the classic yellow sponge.

The reason of his sudden embarrassment? It was all thanks to the hot Barista who asked for his name and someone else answered for him.

"Oh that's Bob" Georges smirk fell from his face. The pick up line dying on his tongue.

Fuck.

The girl looked at him a moment longer before shrugging and writing it on the cup. As she did so her coworker started to explain the lore. George watched past the extra cups and the hundreds of packs of sugar. How his mistake as a little boy was making a pleasant afternoon hell.

"I don't think you look like a Bob" she said when she walked over, "More like a Cornelius" she said with a smile. Him shaking his head but never telling her the real one.

And so this continued. Him coming in and having her try to guess his name. She started off wacky, something George found cute.

Y/n knew who George was. Her brother was a huge fan, but she knew that if she told him she knew that he might stop coming around.

"I like your shirt, that's a great band" she pointed at his shirt, the band had been one he's seen many times.

They had great chemistry, something she wanted to pursue. Not sure how and trying to buy time she continued the game of guessing until it dawned upon her.

He had been posting about going to a concert she had gotten tickets for and finally used it as an open when he wore one of the bands t shirts.

"Right! I've been trying to get my friends to come with me to see them when they play in August" he says excitedly. He had been texting Chris about going that exact morning

"The one on the 20th or the 21st?" She asked as she set the cup of coffee down infront of him.

"The 20th, I have to take a flight the next day, either wise I'd go both days"

"Well I guess I'll see you there" she said with a warm smile.

He was caught off by it. His ears returned to red as he took the coffee and walked out. Looking at the name on the cup it didn't say Bob or Thomas rather a phone number and surprisingly George Clarke.

Of course when he found out the full of her plan he was amazed. He had no clue, of course now whenever he ordered coffee he always put down the name Cornelius.

Because in his wife's words, he looked like one.

Always Be You

Description: George is so scared of losing you that he puts all his cards on the table. Blurting out his feelings is always a good idea right?

Being friends with George was awesome. So fucking awesome. From being each others bus buddies from the age of 5 to 18 and having almost every class together. Y/n had been his neighbour since he began primary.

Now, several years later they were just as close. Eachothers emergency contacts, biggest supporters, and as you could probably guess long time crush.

His mum told him probably a thousand times that they would end up together. Everytime she caught her son waiting for her to text back or when he'd leave for school early to have enough time to pick her up.

George fell for her after though his soul knew since the first time they met. When he finally figured out she also liked him he thought it was something he had missed his chance on.

The day his mum telling him that she liked him, only for him to shake his head and run off to his bedroom.

Now, he stood infront of her apartment. He was there for a party and to meet her new "friend" Michael.

She had asked him to come as a favour and wasn't given any details.

He seethed at the thought of him. He had not wanted to go, but knew this meant a lot to you. Knocking on the door you opened it.

Wearing a dress he bought for you and earrings his mother gave you. You looked like a dream come true.

"George! Its about time you got here" you said as you ushered him in. He loved the feeling of her hands on him.

Walking in he was met with the smell of something delicious cooking on the stove and the flat empty.

"Where's everyone else?" He asked, he was mentally freaking out that it might just be the three of you.

"No one, just us" she confessed "I have something important I wanted to ask.

A million worries came to him as he stood in the same kitchen he spent many late nights in. He nodded for her to keep going.

"So I know you're worried about me and Michael-"

"I'm in love with you!" He shouted. The fuze of his heart being lit in the same amount it took to explode "And I have been for awhile. I know you don't love me anymore but I can't have you talking about him around me" he wanted to cry "I just can't"

He slumped into the barstool. You watching him with an open open mouth

"I'm in love with you too" you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 8 year old you would have fainted at this point. Admitting it to your diary was nothing to admitting it to the man himself.

She had known longer but let the feelings inside her simmer. She gave up hope, but a little bit of her never gave up. Now seeing the man in front of her she was glad she kept it.

He flung himself up, kissing you passionately. His weight on you a gentle indication of how much he truly loved you. Finally backing away yo let you each breathe. She looks at him with a Dazed look

"Now back to why I invited you over, Michael is getting married and I was hoping you'd be my plus one...everyone else is coming to the party in 20, I just wanted to ask before" George rolled his eyes, not at her but at his own silly jealousy.

"Yeah I'd love to come" he leans in, kissing her again "As long as I can go as your boyfriend" she pretended to think, tapping her finger but before she could answer he leaned in again.

"Your mum is going to explode when we tell her" his face fell. He had to do something he hated, telling his mum that she was right.

I'm going to preface this by saying I am Canadian so I call it Soccer sometimes.

Smooth As Soccer

Description: George hits Y/n with a football and as he makes sure she's okay...he notices how pretty she is.

It wasn't everyday that Y/n had the chance to go to the park and read her book. Probably closer to every two weeks, but when she got the chance she took it.

Sitting under a particularly comfortable tree with her book in her lap she could breathe easier. The noises around her blending into white noise as she was fully immersed.

That was until a soccer ball hit her face.

Square in the nose, the pain came after the confusion. A pulsating sting surged through her face as her hands came up to her nose.

If she hadn't been so disoriented she would have noticed how quickly he got to her. Almost as if he had kicked it this direction and kept going.

"Oh my fucking god I am so sorry!" George ran to her, kneeling down to get a better look at the damage he had inflicted.

"Should I call an ambulance?" A voice from over his shoulder called, she was too focused on the pain to respond.

"I Don't think I broke anything he shouted back" his voice shaky

"Yeah no- I don't need one" you said, bringing your hands down seeing no blood. The man infront of you took your chin between his fingers and took a good look at you.

In any other scenario you'd be dying of embarrassment at the touch of a stranger, but again you were focused on other things.

"Its swelling a lot, I am so sorry" he said letting go of your chin "Is there anyway I can make it up to you? Like anything?"

His guilt was weighing on him like a tonne of bricks. Not only had he hurt you but he had done it in a way where you may seriously hate him.

Y/n shook her head, finally getting a good look of the man her cheeks became warm. His soft brown curls moved with him as he tilted his head

"No, no I'll be okay" she stood up reaching for her book "Uh yeah" George found her newfound awkwardness cute, standing up as well he was quite a bit taller catching them both off guard.

He noticed the book she dropped, it had been one of his favourites. Another reason to like her he thought. He wanted to tell her but knew it probably wasn't the best time. Instead he introduced himself.

"I'm George" he said his a hand going to the back of his neck.

"I'm Y/n" she heard more noises coming from behind him, glancing she saw more men all waiting for their friend to return with the ball. One of the guys waving when he saw her.

As she was looking past, George's heart began beating fast. She was really pretty up close. Her hair was styled perfectly for her face, and her eyes were so bright.

He felt creepy staring at her like this, but he couldn't help himself. When she did turn back she didn't catch him

"I don't want to keep you from your game" she said giving him a small smile. It was hard to not notice how handsome he was, but wow did her face hurt

"Well maybe I can see you again? As an apology I mean" he suggested shyly, pulling out his phone "or like just to hang out?" She giggled at his sudden insecurity

"I'd like that, here's my number" She took the outstretched phone and put in her information.

Now, a few weeks later Y/n stood in a line with her new boyfriend and all his friends. Playing soccer was something they all really enjoyed, and she had been roped into coming.

"George, you hit another girl while we're here you can walk home" you jokingly warn. Of course it later came out that he had purposefully hit you to try and get your attention, though he wasn't expecting to hit you so hard.

"Pssh, you say that like he hadn't tried to get your attention plenty of times before" Chris jokes being met with a pink George and a confused Y/n.

"Wait...had you tried to get my attention before?" George looked away, nudging the soccer ball with his foot "God you're not smooth"

"But look at us now! No need to dwell on the past" he said loudly, earning eye rolls from his friends "Y/n is on my team" he directed as the group split in half.

Y/n could see her favourite tree from where she stood on the field. A direct line of sight to it. If she had looked up even once from her book she would have seen him.

With that she let out a small laugh.

Possessive George would be hot

Sweaty and Embarrassed

Description: George is a little protective over his girlfriend, especially when it comes to the handsome crew member she befriends.

If there was one thing George was embarrassed of, it was how jealous he was about his girlfriend. Not your checking her dms or not letting men talk to her type, no George was worse.

"Why can't I go?" Y/n whined, she had wanted to go out with George for a day of filming, only for him to flake at the last moment due to being sick.

"Because you love me, and I think I might have gotten you sick too. Best not to spread it" he explained from his room.

She had really been looking forward to this trip. She wasn't one to be on camera, but the area the boys were going to had a fabulous book store she was dying to go to.

"Sweetie please, I really want to go" she came into the room, seeing a pouting George laying in bed with his arms crossed.

"Fine, we can go. But I want you near me at all times okay?" He usually wasn't like this, but there was one man he was worried about.

Jordan was a new camera guy working for the crew. He was a good looking guy and George saw how he looked at you.

You two were a little too close in his opinion. Texting eachother occasionally and even rarer a phone call.

"What is going on with you??" Y/n asked confused. She had known he could be protective but forbidding her from going out with him was new.

"Just stick with me please!" He pleaded. She put her hands up, agreeing. When they finally showed up Isacc immediately gave them a fake hard time.

"Wow George, you take forever mate and you still look like you rolled out of bed" the other laughing. One person George thought was laughing too hard was Jordan. He let out a fake laugh before finding Chris.

You followed along, stringing along as to not make the pouty boy anymore upset. His behaviour was so confusing to her, one thing was for sure it was adorable.

"Okay, we should be able to film here. Oh Hi Y/n! Sabine just went to the book store if you want to go with her?" He pointed to the woman walking away, her turning over her shoulder and waving over Y/n.

"Yes! I've been dying to go!!" She kissed George's cheek and caught up. Once she was gone the man stood. He was happy with this, he trusted Sabine and was glad that Y/n was far away from Jordan.

Later when you and Sabine returned, the two of you were met with sweaty men covered in grass. Not surprised in the slightest, after dropping off your bags in your car you were sat behind the cameras when Jordan sat down next to you

"Oh my god Y/n, I thought you were avoiding me" he complained, "My boyfriend was asking about your date the other night. Did George like the shirt?"

Y/n pulled out her phone showing him the different photos of her grinning boyfriend proudly showing off his shirt that had "second best boyfriend" in large letters.

"Loved it, I think today is the first day he's not wearing it" she jokes.

George stood across the field when he saw Jordan sit with Y/n, the both of you having a conversation. He immediately looked to the camera before booking it over. Once there he grabbed you and pulled you away

"I need you for a second!" Once a little bit away he tore into you "Why were you talking to him!? He's practically eye fucking you" Y/n stood with her hands on her hips

"...are you being for real?" George's hurt expression grew "Jordan is gay" as soon as it was said his face changed. His lips forming an o shape.

"I'm going to let it go this time, because you were cute when jealous. But next time trust me ok?" She placed her hand on his cheek, "I only love you"

George nodded and leaned into her touch. His breathing becoming steady as he looked into her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just got- I'm sorry. I love you too" She kissed him, her having to lean up to reach his lips. She considered standing on his cleets but knew he'd freak out.

"Okay, now go finish up. You smell like sweat and grass" he kissed her again before running back out. He was glad the cameras were off him, because his cheeks were burning red.

George Clarke Masterlist

Headcannons

Sweaty and Embarrassed

Smooth as Soccer

Always Be You

Bob

Date night + Boys

George Clarke Headcannons

☆ Before you two move in together he never comes over empty handed. Always bringing either dinner, wine, or some desserts you mentioned being your favourite.

♡ Spends literal hours thinking about you at night. He has insomnia and in his sleep deprived state, he likes when his mind drifts to you.

☆ Is a bit of a drama queen when it comes to being sick. He needs constant attention or else he begins to get crabby. He doesn't mean to, it just happens.

♡ He loves to kiss your temple. It makes him feel tall and that he is keeping you safe, all from a peck on the head, but you don't mind.

☆ He loves messing with your hair. if you have long hair, he’ll twirl it around his fingers while talking to you. He is learning how to braid it for you too.

♡ Cooks for you in the mornings and always so proud of himself after. Even if the eggs are a little too crisp and the coffee is weak, you are happy to have it.

☆ Loves teasing you and being teased by you. Asks you to never go easy on him, pull no punches. Does he sometimes reuse your material in videos? Yes.

♡ Who never lets you pay something. When you go shopping and you take out your wallet to pay, he frowns dramatically before snatching it and paying.

☆ Spends every moment he can with you, if he's not literally holding your hand then you better believe he's filming and thinking about holding your hand. Its gotten to the point Max has called it his "Y/n Gaze".

♡ Asked you out when his football rolled over to you and instead of asking for you to kick it back he ran up and apologised before introducing himself.

☆ His family loves you so much, to the point they make jokes that you are their favourite. George rolled his eyes and answered "She's my favourite too"

You know I can’t - George Clarkey

words : 1.0k +

warnings : emotional manipulation, toxic relationship dynamics, angst & heartbreak, emotional cheating

George had convinced himself that this time would be different.

That this time, he wouldn’t come running. That this time, he would let you fade into the background, let himself breathe, let himself live without waiting for you to decide whether or not you wanted him.

For a while, it worked.

He had met someone—someone kind, someone who made him laugh without making his chest ache. She didn’t play games, didn’t make him question his worth, didn’t treat his love like something to be picked up and put down whenever it was convenient.

And for the first time in a long time, George felt like he could finally move forward.

But then his phone buzzed.

"Miss you."

Two words. That was all it took.

His stomach twisted as he stared at the message, knowing exactly what would happen next.

He didn’t respond, but it didn’t matter. Because his mind was already elsewhere. With you.

And the girl sitting across from him at the restaurant knew it too.

She sighed, setting her fork down as she studied him. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

George’s throat went dry. “What?”

She gave him a sad smile, the kind that made his chest tighten with guilt. “It’s always going to be her.”

He opened his mouth to protest—to say that wasn’t true, that he was trying, that he wanted to move on—but the words never came.

Because they both knew she was right.

Twenty minutes later, he was standing outside your door.

Again.

He hated himself for it. Hated that all it took was one message, one breadcrumb of attention, for him to come crawling back.

But he knocked anyway.

You answered almost instantly, leaning against the frame, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “I knew you’d come.”

He let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. “Doing what?”

His jaw clenched, frustration simmering beneath his skin. “This. Calling me back every time I try to leave. Keeping me on a string like I’m some—some backup plan.”

You exhaled, folding your arms across your chest. “If it bothers you so much, then leave, George.”

His breath hitched.

But you didn’t say it in anger. You didn’t want him to leave. You just wanted to see if he would.

And you both knew the answer.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “You know I can’t.”

Something flickered across your face then—something like guilt, or maybe even regret. “George…”

His voice broke slightly as he cut you off. “I know this is bad. I know I should walk away. I know I should stop letting you do this to me.” He took a shaky breath. “But I can’t.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words hanging between you.

And then, in the softest voice, barely above a whisper, you admitted, “Because I don’t want you with anyone else.”

His stomach flipped, but he refused to let himself fall so easily this time. “Why?”

You hesitated.

And for the first time, you looked uncertain.

“I don’t know,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

George let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t know?” His voice was sharp, wounded. “You don’t know why you don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either?”

You swallowed hard, your fingers twitching at your side. “I just—”

“Do you love me?” he cut in, voice raw.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Looked away.

And that was his answer.

His chest tightened, the same ache settling in—the one he knew all too well. The one he had learned to live with because he would rather have you like this than not at all.

You finally looked back at him, eyes searching his. And then, softly, hesitantly, you whispered,

"I don’t… not love you."

It was the cruelest thing you could have said.

Because as much as George hated it—hated the way you danced around the truth, hated the way you never gave him a real answer—those words gave him hope.

And hope was the most dangerous thing of all.

You reached for him then, fingers brushing against his. “You’re such a good person, George.”

He let out a breathless, broken laugh. “No. I’m just an idiot when it comes to you.”

And just like always, you stepped aside, letting him in.

And just like always, he stayed.

Checked in - George Clarkey

words : 1.0 k +

warnings : Food-related content (mention of a gross food challenge), Fluff overload (excessive cuteness that may cause butterflies!)

The Sidemen studio was buzzing with energy—cameras rolling, crew members adjusting lighting, and the boys already causing chaos before the video had even properly started. You stood off to the side, tucked just behind the cameras, watching as your boyfriend, George Clarke, settled into his seat amongst the Sidemen.

He looked completely at ease, chatting and laughing with the boys as the crew made last-minute adjustments. Even though this wasn’t his usual kind of content, he fit in effortlessly, his natural charm making it seem like he’d been doing this for years.

You, on the other hand, weren’t in the video. You had come along purely to support him, happy to be behind the scenes, just watching. But what you weren’t expecting was the way George kept checking in on you—over and over again, in the most subtle yet adorable ways.

“All right, today we have a very special guest,” Ethan announced, throwing an arm around George’s shoulders. “Mr. Architecture himself, George Clarke!”

The boys erupted into cheers and mock applause.

George chuckled, shaking his head. “I swear, you lot hype me up too much.”

JJ smirked. “Mate, it’s only ‘cause we know you’re gonna get roasted in this video.”

That was met with laughter, but as the challenge got underway—some ridiculous mix of trivia and forfeits—you noticed something.

Every few minutes, George would steal a glance in your direction.

At first, it was subtle. His eyes would flick over to you when the others were distracted, his brows lifting slightly as if silently asking, You okay?

You bit back a smile, giving him a tiny nod.

Then, the gestures became more obvious. A quick thumbs-up under the table, a casual stretch where he subtly formed a tiny heart with his fingers before dropping them back down.

You couldn’t stop the warmth from spreading through your chest.

JJ, who happened to catch one of these moments, narrowed his eyes playfully. “Oi, what’s this guy doing?”

Vik followed JJ’s gaze and smirked. “I think George is sending secret messages.”

Harry snickered. “Bruv, you’re in a Sidemen video, not passing notes in class.”

George, completely unbothered, just grinned. “Gotta make sure my girl’s alright, haven’t I?”

The teasing was instant.

“WHIPPED!” Harry declared dramatically.

Josh shook his head, laughing. “We’ve lost him.”

Ethan nudged George. “Mate, she’s literally right there. She’s fine.”

George just shrugged, throwing you another glance, his lips curving into the softest smile. “Still gotta check in.”

Your cheeks burned, but you weren’t about to complain.

As the game continued, George found new ways to silently reassure you—his fingers drumming lightly against the table in a rhythm only you would recognize, a small, barely noticeable wink when the others were too busy laughing, a soft smile that made your stomach flip every time your eyes met.

At one point, when the boys erupted into chaos over a particularly questionable answer, George leaned back slightly, resting his arm on the chair beside him. With a casualness that didn’t match the giddy feeling blooming inside you, he raised two fingers in a peace sign—his own silent way of asking if you were okay.

You did it back, mirroring the gesture, and he smiled so softly it made your heart race.

But then, he took it a step further.

While the others were arguing about the score, George turned slightly, facing you more. With exaggerated slowness—so that only you would notice—he lifted his hands to form a tiny heart, then pointed at you before quickly dropping them back down.

Your heart nearly burst.

You covered your mouth to keep from laughing, shaking your head at him, but the way he was looking at you—so full of warmth, so full of love—made it impossible not to smile.

Tobi, who had been watching quietly, chuckled. “That’s actually cute, man.”

JJ groaned. “Oh my days. Someone get a bucket.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Honestly, just propose at this point, George.”

George just smirked, clearly enjoying the teasing. But before turning his attention back to the game, he shot you one last look—the kind that made your stomach flutter, your breath hitch, and your heart race all at once.

As the game progressed, George continued his little check-ins. Whenever the boys were deep in conversation or focused on the challenge, he’d take a second just to look at you, his lips quirking up in a soft, secret smile meant only for you. And every time, you felt that same giddy rush, your stomach twisting in the best possible way.

Then came the forfeits.

George, unfortunately, ended up on the losing team, meaning he had to suffer through a ridiculous punishment—having to eat an absolutely revolting concoction that JJ had gleefully mixed together.

You winced as you watched the boys cackle over the disgusting-looking sludge in front of George. He picked up the spoon with a sigh, but before taking a bite, his eyes found yours.

He pointed at the bowl, then dramatically wiped a fake tear from his cheek.

You laughed, shaking your head. In response, you held up both thumbs, encouraging him, even though you were internally gagging at the thought of him actually eating that monstrosity.

George grinned, rolling his eyes playfully before finally taking a bite. His face immediately scrunched up in horror, and the studio erupted into chaos.

JJ was on the floor laughing. “Oh my God! His face!”

Harry was crying from laughter, while Tobi clapped his hands together in delight. “Nah, that’s bad. That’s actually bad.”

Through it all, George still found a way to check on you. Even as he dramatically coughed and shook his head at the taste, he sent you a wink between grimaces.

You burst into laughter, pressing a hand over your mouth.

As the video finally wrapped up, George wasted no time in making his way over to you, ignoring the teasing from the boys as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, his voice warm as he pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

You smiled, leaning into him. “Loved every second.”

He hummed, squeezing your side. “Told you I’d check in.”

Your stomach flipped, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you in the room.

JJ’s voice broke the moment. “You two are disgusting.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes, but George just grinned, pulling you closer.

If this was what being ‘whipped’ looked like, he had absolutely no problem with it.

A Few Pints Deep

The pub is packed, the kind of Friday night chaos that buzzes through your veins. You’re two drinks in maybe three and everything feels a little looser, a little lighter. George is only a few feet away, laughing with Chris and Arthur Hill, head thrown back and curls bouncing with every laugh. His hand wraps around his pint like it’s second nature, and he looks good unfairly good. Like he always does when he doesn’t even try.

You’re mid-conversation with a guy who’s definitely not from your usual circle. Someone someone brought along. He’s leaning in close, a little too close, saying something flirty, eyes lingering. His hand rests lightly on your thigh under the table a move you notice but don’t immediately shut down, partly because it feels like a petty test and partly because you’re a little tipsy and riding the buzz.

You catch George looking over. Correction: staring. His expression is unreadable, but the tension in his jaw is sharp as glass.

A minute later, he’s beside you. No warning. Just suddenly there, thigh pressed tight against yours, his arm tossed across the back of the booth so it brushes your shoulders. His presence is hot and grounding and just a little territorial.

The guy tries to keep talking to you, but George cuts in smooth, low voice. “Didn’t realise we were inviting strangers tonight.”

You snort into your drink. “He’s not really a stranger”

George’s eyes flick to the guy’s hand, still too familiar on your leg. “He’s not your boyfriend either.”

The guy looks taken aback. You, however, feel like your skin’s on fire.

“Alright, man,” the guy says, standing. “Didn’t mean to cause drama.”

“Yeah,” George mutters, “maybe find someone else’s date to flirt with.”

Your heart skips.

Once the guy’s gone, George doesn’t move away. If anything, he gets closer.

“You’re not my date,” you say, half-daring, half-breathless.

George turns to you, eyes dark. “You should be.”

His hand slides down not overtly, just resting on your bare knee under the table, fingers brushing the hem of your skirt. It’s nothing overt in the grand scheme, but it makes your stomach flip.

“You jealous, Clark?” you ask, voice teasing, but your heart’s pounding like mad.

He leans in, so close you can feel the heat of his breath against your ear. “I didn’t like seeing his hands on you. Because I’ve been dying to touch you like that for months.”

You swallow hard, cheeks flushed. “Then why haven’t you?”

He looks at you like he’s already undressing you with his eyes, but there’s something softer under it too. “Because you’re my best friend. Because I didn’t want to fuck it up. But seeing you like that tonight laughing, tipsy, letting him get close I realised I’d rather risk everything than let someone else think they’ve got a chance.”

You don’t think. You just grab his shirt and pull him in, lips colliding with his in a kiss that’s all heat and want and months of unspoken tension finally breaking. He kisses you like he means it hand sliding up your thigh, other curling into your hair, anchoring you to him like he’s scared you’ll disappear.

When you finally pull away, breathless, his forehead rests against yours.

“Tell me that wasn’t just the drinks talking,” he whispers.

You smile, brushing your thumb across his jaw. “Nope. That was all me. Sober enough to know I’ve wanted this longer than I’ll ever admit.”

His grin is cocky now, pure George. “Reckon we should get out of here before I kiss you again in front of the entire pub.”

You pretend to think. “Might not be a bad idea.”

George’s hand slips into yours under the table, fingers interlocking, possessive and sure. As you leave the pub together, his hand stays firmly on you like a promise.

And this time, you’re not going to stop him.

arrest me pls

how big dat puss