#Chrismd

[clarkeysbedchem]

passenger princess

will lenney x reader x chris dixon

summary: being wedged between chris and will in the backseat of a car leads to something quite unexpected

warnings: mature content (18+ only)

main masterlist

content warnings: threesome, titty sucking, public sex (kinda idk), fingering - if im missing any let me know <33

The car hummed steadily along the motorway, the soft rumble of tires on tarmac was drowned out by the boys relentless back-and-forth from the front and the back of the car. You sat tucked in the back, your camera resting on your lap, panning lazily between the boys as they bickered over Chris not being allowed to drive for more than two hours and Will snd Stephen getting drunk so they wouldn’t be able to drive.

Next to you, Will shifted slightly, one arm slung across the back of the seat, casual as ever. He looked unfairly good in the warm glow of the bright sun, his red football shirt slouched over his shoulders, his mullet curling perfectly at the back of his neck. His knee was pressed lightly against yours with a familiar weight that never bothered you.

You tried to keep your focus on the camera. Tried.

“Mate, you’ve literally been driving for ten years, course you can drive a fucking manual.” Chris scoffed.

Stephen rolled his eyes dramatically, “Ten years is along time, Chris.”

“And he’s pissed, so he legally can’t be behind the wheel,” Will teased from beside you, voice thick with that trademark Geordie lilt – which always became extra strong after a drink – and a shiver ran down your spine.

You turned the camera to him just in time to catch his grin making your stomach flip.

“So true, William,” Stephen laughed, tossing a crisp packet at the backseat. It landed on the carpeted floor between the two of you, and Will snorted, kicking it away with the toe of his trainer.

You leaned forward slightly, capturing the chaos, letting your laughter spill into the background of the recording. You hadn’t noticed Will’s hand had crept closer to your thigh until you shifted back again and felt the faintest brush of his pinkie against your skin.

You stiffened just slightly, eyes flicking to him. But he was still watching the front, still laughing, still being Will, acting as if he hadn’t just made the breath knock out of your chest.

Maybe it was an accident.

You turned your attention back to the camera, focusing on Chris’ exasperated face as Stephen downed another can of blue AU vodka. Then there it was. That hand again. Firmer now.

You gasped softly, head snapping to the side.

Will still wasn’t looking at you. His lips twitched into a knowing smirk, but his eyes remained forward. Bastard.

You swallowed hard and nudged his hand away, trying to keep your expression neutral, even as your skin prickled where his rings had brushed you. He just chuckled under his breath, shameless, fingers dropping back to the seat just barely grazing your skin.

Goosebumps spread across your thighs.

You hated how much you liked it. How much you wished he’d carry on with the teasing. How he was shamelessly doing it in front of his friends, in front of the cameras.

“We’re gonna have to stop somewhere,” Stephen announced, wriggling dramatically in his seat, “I have to piss so bad.”

The boys burst into laughter, and Chris nodded, “Find the next services then.”

You laughed too, but it came out a little breathless. You reached to turn the camera off and placed it on the seat beside you, ignoring the burning heat that was bubbling low in your stomach.

As the car rolled smoothly down the motorway again, your body stilled. Will’s hand was back giving a firm squeeze.

And this time, you didn’t move.

You tilted your head slowly, lashes brushing your cheeks as you glanced up at him. Will met your gaze, a smirk firmly in place, and the glint in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

This wasn’t a game anymore.

You exhaled softly, thighs tensing under his touch as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shorts. Your breath caught in the back of your throat, heat pooling between your thighs. You bit down on your lip, cheeks burning, but your eyes didn’t waver. They locked with Chris’ in the rearview mirror; his amused smirk all too evident.

Then Will’s fingers pressed firmly over your clothed clit, and a sharp jolt of pleasure shot through you. You gasped, instinctively clamping your legs shut, shaking your head, your mouth parting to say something, but Chris beat you to it.

“Alright, we’re here. Off you go, Stephen.”

“Yes, Dad.” Stephen laughed, unbothered as ever, jumping out and strolling off toward the services.

Chris turned in his seat to face you and Will in the back, “You two gonna finish your little show or what?”

“We’ve not even started it yet,” Will said casually.

“What if people see?” you asked, glancing toward the windows, heart hammering against your ribcage.

“Nobody’s gonna see, pet,” Will murmured, brushing your hair back from your face with one hand. The other slipped from your thigh, calmly unbuckling both your seatbelts, “C’mere.”

You shifted on the bench seat, nerves fluttering in your stomach. Gnawing your cheek, you leaned into Will’s side, his arm curling around your shoulder. His hand slid down, slipping into the waistband of your shorts and gliding over the damp patch on your underwear.

“Fucking hell, darlin’. This wet for me already?”

You hummed softly, letting your head fall to his shoulder, Will’s nimble fingers teasing slow, lazy circles over your clit through the thin fabric.

“Look at Chris f’me.”

You did as you were told, the vibrations echoing from Will’s chest as he chuckled at your obediance. Your gaze dropped to the front of the car. Chris was leaning back against the dashboard, his hand buried in his shorts, dark eyes locked on you as he watched every twitch and whimper as Will’s hands moved across your body.

Will cupped your tits through your shirt, squeezing, teasing, drawing a needy whine from you just as his fingers finally slipped beneath your knickers, gathering the slick from your folds.

“Shit, sweetheart. Look at you, so needy for Will,” Chris groaned.

You nodded, lips parted, breath stuttering as your hips rocked forward into Will’s hand. Your shaky fingers curled around Will’s wrist, eyes wide and pleading as you looked up at him with a pout. He gave you what you wanted, sliding a finger into your tight cunt, the intrusion slow and deliberate. You moaned at the stretch, turning your gaze back to Chris, wishing, aching, for his hands to be on you too.

Your eyes dropped lower, catching sight of his hand still stroking his cock beneath his shorts, “Chris,” you whimpered, reaching out toward him. The sheer desperation in your voice made him groan.

“You want Chrissy too?” Will chuckled, slipping in a second finger, “Needy girl.”

You whimpered again, squeezing your eyes shut, your bottom lip trembling as your nails dug into the leather of the centre console, “yeah…”

Will jerked his chin toward Chris, nodding. Without hesitation, Chris climbed into the back, wedging himself between your legs. The space was tight, but you barely noticed. All of your focus was on the feeling of Chris’ mouth wrapping around your nipple as he pushed your bunched-up top higher.

A string of incoherent moans and curses left your lips, pleasure biting under your skin. One hand buried in Chris’ hair, the other gripped Will’s wrist tight as he continued to pump his fingers inside you.

“More,” you gasped, eyes fluttering.

Will raised an eyebrow, letting out a laugh, “You sure you can handle more, princess?”

“M’sure please, Will?” you begged, blinking up at him through glassy, fucked-out eyes.

He melted, instantly giving in.

With his free hand, Will tapped Chris, who immediately brought his fingers to your clit, tracing sharp, precise circles. At the same time, Will slid in a third finger, your walls stretching around him.

“Fuck,” one of them muttered, but your mind was too fogged to know who.

Your throat burned from the moans tearing out of you. The sensations of Chris sucking at your tits, and Will’s fingers pounding into your cunt had your body coiling tight, your orgasm barrelling toward you fast.

The moment Chris’ teeth scraped lightly over your nipple, you broke.

Your body convulsed between them, hips jerking up into their hands as you rode your high. Will didn’t let up, fucking you through the aftershocks, his fingers working your fluttering cunt until your body finally gave in, slumping against him.

Your breath came in ragged gasps. A whimper escaped your throat at the loss as both of them pulled away. Will smirked, raising his glistening fingers to your lips, tapping lightly. You parted them, obedient as ever, sucking them clean, eyes locked on his the entire time.

Chris groaned at the sight, “Jesus Christ.”

With a sigh, he climbed back into the driver’s seat, giving you space to compose yourself before Stephen returned. You leaned over quickly, pecking his lips, making him smile despite himself.

“Right then.” Will huffed, crossing his arms with mock offence, “I see how it is.”

You laughed breathlessly, sliding back beside him and cupping his jaw, bringing his mouth to yours, “Happy now?” you teased voice rasped, pulling away only to find that smug smile etched across his face.

“Very. Thank you very much.”

The passenger door yanked open just as you slid away from Will and buckled your seatbelt again, trying to hide the satisfied smile on your face.

“That queue was ridiculous,” Stephen groaned. “But I got us more wine, William.”

“Nice one, mate.” Will grinned, grabbing the bottle from him and then he froze. His eyes snapped to the dashboard camera, blinking red. His face paled.

“Did you leave the cameras on, Chris?” he asked, choking on a cough, trying to play it cool.

Your head whipped around, eyes going wide. You leaned forward, peering past Stephen’s seat. Sure enough, the light was still blinking.

Chris just shrugged, a wicked smirk playing on his lips, “Oops. Must’ve forgot.”

He paused, then added with a wink, “Don’t worry though, I’ll be editing that footage.”

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[raekensluver]

Arthur let out a lazy hum, his hand moving to rest against your waist. “I slept well. Really well, actually.” He smiled, his eyes still not fully open. “What about you?”

SHUT UUUUUUP LIVVY. I CAN HEAR HIM SAYING THIS EXACTLY

hey girll im literally obsessed with your writing so I was hoping if maybe (if you aren't busy and are taking requests 😭😭) could you do a fic with anyone of your choice where they mumble I love you while they're asleep next to the reader and the reader hears and brings it up the next morning?

omg wait i literally love this but i dont know who to pick... ill just do more than one person HELPP. im afraid i didnt cook with this one

Quiet Confessions.

INCLUDES; arthurtv, chrismcdonald, george clarke. (in like seperate story things btw)

CHRISMD;

It had been a long day of recording and laughing, and by the time you both got into bed, you were ready to just relax. The warmth of your shared flat surrounded you, with the dim light of the bedside lamp flickering gently. Chris had a way of making everything feel more comfortable, and tonight was no different. He pulled you close, his arm draped around you as he snuggled in, his steady breathing soon becoming the background noise of your thoughts.

You were just about to slip into sleep when you heard it—soft, low, and barely above a whisper.

“I love you.”

Your eyes widened, your heart skipping a beat. You turned your head slightly to look at Chris. He was still asleep, his face relaxed in the way it always was when he was dreaming. His breathing had remained even, completely unaware of the words he had just said.

You lay there, wide awake for a moment longer than you wanted to admit, letting the words sink in. It was so simple, yet hearing him say it in his sleep, completely unguarded, felt special in a way that made you smile.

You decided to let it go, figuring he wouldn't even remember in the morning. But the feeling lingered as you eventually drifted off, holding that sweet moment close.

The morning came, and the sunlight filtering through the curtains made the room feel warm and inviting. You were already awake, quietly watching Chris as he slept, his hair messy and his face calm. You couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at your lips, remembering what had happened the night before.

Chris began to stir, stretching out with a quiet groan as he woke up. His eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head to meet your gaze, giving you a sleepy smile. “Morning, love,” he said, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well,” he mumbled, still half in dreamland. “You?”

“I slept alright,” you said, pausing just for a moment, letting the silence build. “Except I heard something interesting last night.”

Chris blinked at you, a sleepy frown forming. “What? What did I say?”

You smirked slightly, leaning closer. “You were talking in your sleep.”

His eyes widened slightly. “What? Seriously?”

You nodded, your grin spreading wider. “Yeah, you said ‘I love you.’”

Chris froze. His face turned a shade of red as he stared at you, clearly startled. “I... I did?”

You laughed softly at his reaction, loving how flustered he looked. “Yeah, you did. You know, I’m not complaining or anything... just wasn’t expecting to hear that while you were asleep.”

Chris ran a hand through his messy hair, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t—didn't mean to say it out loud, but...” He shrugged and gave you a cheeky grin. “Well, I do love you, you git.”

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I love you too, you doofus.”

He chuckled, the red in his cheeks fading as he pulled you into a tight hug. “Guess that’s one secret I can’t keep, huh?”

“Nope,” you teased. “And I’ll be holding it over your head from now on.”

“Good,” he whispered into your hair, his arms tightening around you. “Just don’t expect me to stop saying it anytime soon.”

GEORGE CLARKE;

It had been one of those long days where everything seemed to blend together, but the quiet, comfortable moments in your shared flat made it all worth it. You and George had been lounging on the couch, exchanging stories and laughter, until eventually, the exhaustion from the day caught up with both of you. By the time you finally found yourselves in bed, it was clear that both of you were ready to settle in for a peaceful night.

You lay on your side, your head resting against the pillow, while George snuggled up behind you, his arm draping over you, pulling you closer. His warmth surrounded you, the rhythmic sound of his breathing already starting to soothe your tired mind. There was something so peaceful about his presence, so natural, as if everything in the world just made sense when he was this close.

You felt yourself relaxing, your eyelids growing heavy as you snuggled deeper into his embrace. The comfort of his arms around you made sleep come easy, and you began to drift off.

But just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt George shift, his face pressing against your chest, his warm breath brushing against your skin. You smiled softly, about to drift away when you suddenly heard it—so quiet, so soft, it almost sounded like a dream.

“I love you.”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. You carefully looked down at him, but George was completely out cold, his face buried in your chest, breathing evenly and unaware of the words he’d just whispered. His arm tightened around you as he subconsciously snuggled in closer, oblivious to the confession he had just mumbled in his sleep.

You felt warmth spread through you, a small smile tugging at your lips as you stayed still, savoring the moment. It was so simple, so honest, yet hearing him say it without any hesitation—without any walls up—made your chest feel light.

Eventually, sleep claimed you too, the memory of his whispered confession lingering in your mind.

Morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. You were already awake, lying in George’s arms, watching him sleep peacefully. His hair was a bit messy, his face relaxed in that soft, innocent way he had when he was truly at rest. You couldn’t help but smile, remembering what had happened the night before.

George stirred a little, stretching with a groggy groan before slowly blinking his eyes open. His gaze met yours, and a sleepy smile tugged at his lips. “Morning, love,” he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you replied, your tone light, though you couldn’t resist the teasing glint in your eyes. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” he mumbled, still half out of it. “Pretty comfortable.” He yawned, snuggling closer to you. “You?”

“Not bad,” you said, giving him a little smile. “Though... I heard something interesting last night.”

His eyes blinked slowly, trying to focus. “Huh? What do you mean?”

You leaned in a little, your lips just brushing against his ear as you whispered, “You were talking in your sleep.”

George’s eyes widened, and his cheeks immediately turned a soft pink. “I... I was?”

You nodded, trying to keep your tone casual, though you couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, you said ‘I love you.’”

George froze for a moment, then looked up at you, his face now a full shade of red. “Wait... what? I did?”

You smirked, the playful tease taking over. “Yeah, you did. It was really sweet... though I wasn’t expecting to hear it while you were asleep.”

He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking utterly flustered. “I didn’t... mean to say that out loud. I swear, I was asleep!”

You chuckled softly, the sound warm and affectionate. “It’s alright. It was nice to hear, even if you didn’t mean it. You’ve got a habit of being sweet when you're half asleep.”

George grinned sheepishly, shrugging slightly. “Well... I do love you, you know. Even when I’m awake.” He kissed your cheek, his grin turning into a mischievous smirk. “I just didn’t mean to let it slip when I was snoozing.”

You smiled, leaning in to peck him on the lips. “I love you too, you dork.”

He pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. “Guess I’ve got no secrets left, huh?”

“Nope,” you teased, resting your head on his chest. “But I’ll hold this one over your head for a while.”

“Good,” he whispered into your hair, his arms tightening around you. “I like it when you’ve got leverage over me.”

ARTHUR TV;

The evening had been a perfect blend of relaxation and fun—after a long day of filming, the two of you had settled on the couch, talking about random things, laughing at inside jokes, and generally just enjoying each other’s company. You'd eventually migrated to bed, comfortable and tired, your body relaxing into the warmth of the blankets.

You lay on your back, arms stretched out, while Arthur, always the snugly one, had curled up against you. His head rested gently on your chest, right above your stomach, and you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair as you both settled in. The soft rise and fall of his breath against your skin was calming, and soon, you felt your own eyelids growing heavier.

Just as you were drifting off to sleep, you heard it—his voice, quiet and muffled, almost as if he were speaking in his sleep.

“I love you…” The words were simple, but the way he said them felt so pure, so unguarded.

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. You looked down at him, but his face was relaxed, eyes closed, breathing still steady. He was completely unaware of what he'd just said. His head rested comfortably against you, and he shifted just slightly, snuggling in closer.

You smiled softly, your hand still resting on his head as you let out a quiet sigh. The intimacy of the moment felt so special—how easily he could express his feelings without realizing it. You knew Arthur was a sentimental person, but hearing it in this moment, without him even being conscious of it, made it even more meaningful.

A few moments passed, and you heard him again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you…”

It was almost like a soft reassurance, a gentle reminder of the love he held for you. His face nuzzled further into your chest as he unconsciously sought out more comfort, his arm tightening a little around your waist. It was a tender, innocent moment that you wanted to hold onto forever.

You let yourself fall into a peaceful sleep, the sound of his soft breaths and his whispered words echoing in your heart.

Morning came gently, with soft sunlight filtering through the window. You awoke before Arthur, watching him as he slept soundly on your chest, his hair a messy tangle from a night of cuddling. The smile on your lips grew as you remembered his sweet words from the night before.

He stirred after a few minutes, letting out a sleepy groan as he stretched, his arms reaching above his head. His eyes slowly opened, meeting yours with a half-awake gaze. A sleepy grin spread across his face as he whispered, “Morning…”

“Morning,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual, though a playful grin tugged at your lips. “How’d you sleep?”

Arthur let out a lazy hum, his hand moving to rest against your waist. “I slept well. Really well, actually.” He smiled, his eyes still not fully open. “What about you?”

You hesitated for just a moment, your heart racing a little with excitement. “I slept fine. But you, on the other hand…”

Arthur blinked up at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “What do you mean? Did I snore or something?”

You chuckled softly, leaning down to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “No, not that... but you were talking in your sleep.”

His eyes widened in confusion, and he pulled himself up slightly, looking at you more attentively now. “Really? What did I say?”

You kept your tone light and teasing, not wanting to give him the full picture just yet. “You said ‘I love you’... twice.”

Arthur blinked, clearly caught off guard. His cheeks flushed with an adorable shade of pink, and he quickly looked away, running a hand through his messy hair. “I did? I... I didn’t even know I was saying that.”

You smiled at the sight of his embarrassed expression. “You did. It was pretty sweet, actually.”

Arthur chuckled nervously, his hands rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I mean… I do love you. Just didn’t think I’d say it while I was asleep.” He looked at you sheepishly, his eyes softening. “Guess I’m not very good at hiding it, am I?”

You couldn’t help but lean in to kiss him on the cheek, your heart full of warmth. “Nope, you’re not,” you teased. “But I’m not complaining.”

Arthur grinned, clearly relieved, and leaned in to kiss your lips softly. “Good. Because I love you, and I’m not afraid to say it—even if I say it in my sleep.”

You smiled against his lips, pulling him closer into a hug. “I love you too, you dork.”

Arthur’s arms wrapped around you tighter, holding you close as he mumbled, “I’m glad you know it.”

[clarkeyscvntymullet]

Would love a chris fic where they meet on a night out and she is afraid she's just another one night stand but he genuinely likes her but is too scared to say anything but they meet again and he apologises.

NOT JUST FOR TONIGHT

chris dixon x female!reader

You weren’t even supposed to go out with your girlfriends tonight, after last time, you swore you were done with Friday nights that turned into lazy Saturdays you spent curled up on the sofa, coffee in one hand, head in the other, swearing you’ll never drink again. 

But here you are, a vodka drink of sorts you were cradling, eyes scanning the crowd, wondering when it all started feeling so empty. 

Then you lock eyes on him. He’s not particuarly tall but he has devastatingly beautiful curls and some stubble – and he is exactly the kind of handsome that needs to come with a warning, and he knows it.

 

You don’t know him yet, but by the way he’s looking back at you - like you’re the only reason he’s here - that alone is dangerous, and it starts a fire in your heart. 

He walks over and leans in, breath hot on the shell of your ear, the only thing that is making his voice just loud enough over the music. “Thought you were looking at me for a rather long time, can’t say I blame you.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh I hate to tell you but I wasn’t trying to inflate your ego, sorry – what's your name?” 

He laughs, Jesus he had a beautiful laugh. “I’m Chris.” 

You give him your name, normally you wouldn’t but hey! Tonight you’ve decided that you’ll let Chris help you escape your comfort zone, all while getting to know him. He buys you a drink without asking, sambuca and lemonade – and you hate to admit it, but he’s got taste.  

The night goes on and you’re matching eachother. He talks, you talk back. He glances at you, you meet his stare, then awkwardly clearing your throat when you feel yourself getting lost in those stupid fucking beautiful brown eyes. Before you know it, he’s pulled you on the dancefloor, you arms around his shoulders, his hands gripping your waist. You know you’re too close, but you can’t pull away. The feeling is all-comsuming, powerful but needy at the same time. 

 

When he kisses you, it’s not rough or rushed - it’s slow, like he’s asking for approval, waiting for you to pull away, but you don’t, instead you meet his lips, and your hands are in his hair, his are all over you, and before you know it, you’re at his place. 

You don’t remember the walk there. You just remember hands, heat, lust, desperation. The sharp breath when he pushed your hair back to kiss your throat, him pinning you against the doorframe, hands holding your wrists above you. 

It’s messy, but not careless. Lips at your neck, his thumb brushing your jaw. 

You memorise his teasing chuckle he lets out against your collarbone when your whines turn to moans at his touch, or the way he says your name like it’s a secret he wasn’t supposed to learn, as he fucks into you. 

You fall asleep, legs tangled, his hand finding home on your hip once more, his breathing is slow and warm against your skin. It feels like it should be more, but you know it can never be. 

The morning hits you like a truck, and your heart plummets. You’ve seen this film before - the soft and longing looks, the intertwined hands and kiss grazed knuckles. It always ends the same. You can’t let yourself be hurt by what was simply a one-night stand. So you leave before he wakes. You don’t leave a note or a message, no goodbye, you leave guilt-ridden, hoping for his sake, you two never cross paths again. 

Days pass, then a month, and you try not to think about him, you delete his number before you can text, you chastise yourself and remind yourself you don’t do things like this. That he probably doesn’t even remember your name, and is on another date with someone much kinder, prettier, someone who can give him what he wants. 

But then, out of nowhere and completely unexpected, you see him again, at a birthday thing for a mutual friend you didn’t realise you both had in common. 

Your heart stops when you spot him - leaning against the wall, drink in hand, that and you could hear that gorgeous and fucking stupid smug laugh and you hate how he is standing and what it does to you, like the universe couldn’t be bothered to warn you. 

Unfortunately, he notices you before you can leave. “Hey.” His voice is quieter than you remember, but you hate that it still makes your stomach do somersaults. 

You try to sound cool and detached, like he wasn't constantly on your mind, “Oh hey Chris, I didn’t think I’d see you again.” 

He laughs once, but you weren't an idiot, you knew it was humourless, “Yeah, well, you left without a trace.” 

You cross your arms, putting up a barrier. “You didn’t stop me.” 

There’s a pause. Then he says, low and fast, like it’s been on his mind for days: “You walked out while I was asleep, and I didn't know what I did wrong.” 

You blink. “What should have I done then Chris. Please, I'd love to know.” 

He takes a breath, looks at you like you’re about to ruin him. “Stay and let me tell you that I liked you. That I wanted to see you again, that despite this, I still do, you certainly made a good impression.” 

Your heart stutters, and for a minute you doubt your hearing abilities. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.” 

He closes the distance between you, slowly, like he’s giving you tims to leave, but of course, you don't. “I fucked it up,” he says honestly. “But I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” 

You take a small step back, not away, just enough to breathe without feeling claustrophobic. “You really liked me?” 

He nods, eyes not leaving yours. “I still do.” 

You grin, heart palpitating a hundred miles an hour. "I don't think I heard you?.” 

His voice is barely more than a whisper. “I really fucking like you.” Before he crashes his lips onto yours.

(cheeky a/n - sorry to those expecting a smut,, was going to but I genuinely HATED it help)

[lxvchrismd]

| Wandering Eyes |

| Pairing: Alfie Buttle x Reader

| Summary: As Y/n finished her leg extension set, she lets her gaze wander. As she does, she spots a relatively attractive guy on the pull up bar. She’s too engrossed into checking him out, to realise him staring right back at her.

| Warnings: Moderate smut, MDNI 18+, Swearing.

| Notes: Hey ml! This is my first ever attempt at smut, so it may not be amazing. I hope you enjoy! <3 (I hope someone gets the Clash of Clans reference 😭)

Y/n was a frequent gym goer. She was always working out in her spare time, usually after work. As Y/n just finished with her leg extensions set she got off of the machine sweating, legs shaking like no tomorrow. As Y/n was fixing her headphones, she allowed her eyes to wander.

As she was looking around, she spotted a guy at the pull-up bar, who looked like he’d just finished his set. He was attractive, to say the least. Brunette curly hair, tall, and bulky as all hell. She was too distracted on thinking about how attractive he was, to realise he was staring directly at her.

As soon as she noticed, she was quite literally mortified. She quickly looked away, face red. She immediately walks towards the changing room, gets her bag and leaves.

Y/n and “hot gym guy” had ran into each other a few more times since the first embarrassing interaction. At the gym, grocery store, the parking lot of the gym. There were only a few limited “Hello’s”, nice smiles, and a few nods, but other than that they never really talked, just two random strangers.

Until, fate took its course. Y/n and her girls were currently on a girls night, a reoccurring scene every Friday. She was currently sitting at the bar with her friends, halfway through her cocktail as she felt someone tap her shoulder. As she turned around, she seen those oh-so familiar eyes again.

“I didn’t know you cleaned up this well outside of the gym, otherwise i’d have asked for your snap earlier”. He says, his signature smile on display. “Mmh, yeah? Well I didn’t know you were capable of expanding your vocabulary from the word “hello”. She says, smiling widely.

He rolls his eyes playfully, before pushing her shoulder gently. “I’m Alfie, you are?” “Y/n.” She answers, a cheeky tone behind it. “Are you always this sassy, or is it just the vodka?” “there’s only one way to find out.”

Its safe to say that they didn’t last long at the bar. Ten minutes later, they were in the back of an Uber, his hand on her thigh, her lips brushing against his jaw, tasting whiskey and want. The ride was a blur. They crashed into his apartment like a storm.

Alfie pressed her against the wall the second the door shut, his mouth crashing into hers, hot and hungry. His hands gripped her waist, sliding up her sides like he was trying to memorize every single curve.

They stumbled toward the bedroom, clothes falling in their path. Her dress hit the floor, followed by her bra. His jeans and top were next. He laid her on the bed like she was fragile, as his head automatically went between her legs.

Y/n sat up against the headboard as she looked down at Alfie, her chest rising and falling quickly. Alfie slowly takes her panties off, throwing them behind his shoulder. He looks up ar her, silently asking for permission. She immediately nodded her head with no hesitation.

He slowly stuck his finger inside of her, watching her reaction. She leaned her head back, letting out a small moan as she felt his finger stretching her out. “Alfie!” She moans, her back arching as her hand lands of top of his. He starts to move his fingers faster, wanting her hear more of her moans.

“Alfie- OH! Alfie, I need you. Please!” Hearing this; he snaps. He immediately takes off his boxers, and slides himself inside of her. It was slow, deep. A stretch that made her bite her lip to stifle the moan. He filled her completely, holding her legs apart, watching her fall apart under him. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You feel like heaven.”

His rhythm was teasing, almost like he was testing the waters with how much she could take. But as soon as she dug her nails into his back and begged for more? that’s when things started to speed up. He gripped her hips, thrusts hard and punishing. But his mouth never left hers for long.

Even though this was their first time together, it felt like he knew her body inside and out. She began to clench, her moans turning into loud whimpers as she gets close. She closes her eyes tightly, throwing her head back in ecstasy. However, Alfie didn’t like this. Not one bit.

“Look at me,” he growled when her eyes fluttered shut. “I want you to look at me when you cum.” And she did. Loud, messy, clenching around him as he followed not long after, spilling into her with a strangled moan of her name. They lay there for a moment, breathless, sweaty, bodies tangled together.

His body collapses next to hers, chest rising and falling heavily as he catches his breath. After a minute or two, he finally speaks.

“So… you play clash of clans?”

Y/n immediately looks at him, eyebrows raised. the room goes silent before they burst out into laughter. Needless to say, this isn’t their last time.

[headdinthewall]

NO MONEY ──  c.dixon  ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

summary : in which you do the ‘i cant help pay the bills trend’ on your boyfriend, chris a/n : sorry for there not being the inside part3, idk when it’ll be out because i have so many little one shot ideas rn but yeah! also og idea goes to @georgeclarkeys thank you for letting me use your idea!🫶🏼 this is quite short but i hope it’s okay x content : established relationship ,, innuendos & chris being dirty

─────── THE SOUND OF the tv played throughout the apartment as you shared the sofa space with Arthur Hill. George was currently out on a date with someone and Chris was doing some sort of content filming in his room, so you gave him the space he needed and yourself in the living room.

Some crappy soap was playing, neither of you paying attention to it as you were both scrolling on your phones.

Your doomscrolling came to an intriguing end as Faith’s tiktok video game up, one of her telling Ethan she couldn’t contribute to the bills for the month, resulting in him just kind of blankly staring at her and laughing.

You turned your phone to Arthur, “What if I did this on Chris?”

He chuckled and nodded, “Please do it.”

You smirked mischievously, standing up off the couch and shuffling towards Chris’ room. Your fluffy sock-clad feet slipped along the wooden floor smoothly and you knocked.

“Yeah?!”

You started recording on your phone, making sure the flash was off and opened the door, “Chris? I just need to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, sure, lovely.” He removed his headset so that it was resting around his neck and looked up at you with full interest.

“I just needed to tell you that I can’t help pay the bills this month.” You muttered, playing the ashamed, bashful role incredibly well.

Chris blinked up at you with a blank look on his face, “Uh … what?”

“The bills. I don’t have enough money to put towards the bills, so I’ll just do it for next month instead.”

He snorted, covering his mouth with his knuckles, “Sorry, when have you ever helped pay the bills?”

“Well …” Shit. He was right. And that wasn’t because you were selfish and made him pay, no. It was because he was adamant that you didn’t need to spend a penny on the bills, not when he was already ‘rolling in it’. His words, not yours. “I wanted to start.”

“Yeah, and I’ve already told you I’m not letting you.” Chris laughed, not taking this seriously at all.

“Chris, it’s not funny.” You suppressed your own laughter, “I can’t contribute any money.”

This time, he actually cackled at your whiny voice, “You have never paid the bills on this apartment in our entire relationship, why do you think I would suddenly care if you have no money to help contribute?”

“I just thought I’d tell you.” You shrugged.

“Okay, well don’t.” He sassed, “Just shush, yeah? I don’t expect you—“

“Chris!” You gasped at his attitude, chuckling slightly.

“What?!” His voice raised slightly in a playful manner, “What do you want me to do, bend you over my knee and spank you? Like, what?”

“Okay, well now you’re being inappropriate.” You huffed with fake dramatics, glancing down at your phone, making sure his face was in frame.

“You’d like it though.” Chris smirked, hands moving back to his headset, “Can I go back to editing this video now so that I can pay the bills so you don’t have to?”

“You’re too sassy.” You grumbled, walking out and stopping the recording.

You skipped back over to the sofa and replayed the video to Arthur, who laughed at it and told you to post it, which you did, making sure to tag Chris.

comments:

chrismd.official ffs i should’ve known

↳ willne it’s your own fault for not noticing the massive fucking phone in her hand. it’s bright blue lad.

↳ chrismd.official too distracted by her beautiful face x

↳ yourusername ergh…

user1 i love her she’s so funny☠️

user2 HELP? THE SPANKING THING???

user3 it’s so obvious they get down and dirty, despite him being a tiny little man

↳ yourusername he does it on stilts

↳ chrismd.official it’s just not true though is it

↳ georgeclarkeey he has a little trampoline to help him get up on the bed, i’ve seen it in their wardrobe

user4 iconic couple

user5 surprised he found someone shorter than him to be honest with you

↳ yourusername im pushing 6’0

↳ arthurhill69 you’re 5’3

user6 chris’ search history a year ago: ‘how to get the girl that’s shorter than me, funnier than me and hotter than me’

faithlouisak why do men always get so sexual with it😒😒

↳ yourusername men☕️

↳ behzinga ????

↳ chrismd.official what??

user7 ‘okay well dont’ gosh why is he part of the sassy man apocalypse

[honeymilkbeez]

ME, YOU AND PARADISE | a.buttle

summary : in which ab surprises you with a holiday trip starring : alfie buttle x fem!reader content : established relationship | genre : fluff | warning : none a/n : dedicated my first blog to ab in sc!au style. hope you all like it (sorry it's a bit short but more to come soon), and don't forget to reblog! mwah x <3

@yourusername: surprised! finally made it out of the grotto chat xxx tagged: @alfiebuttle ------------------- ❤️ alfiebuttle, sabinablair_ , and others | 💬 6,825 | ➤ 22,482 ------------------- @sabinablair_: omg im so jealous ! hope you're having fun x -> @yourusername: @sabinablair_ thank you my love! it's absolutely gorgeous here x

@livvydimartino: my favourite (minus ab, ofc) -> @yourusername: @livvydimartino i love you wifey <3 -> @alfiebuttle: stop flirting with my gf @livvydimartino -> @livvydimartino: @alfiebuttle sorry but we're married, she's my wife xx

@taliamar: can ab fight? -> @yourusername: @taliamar nah i dont think so xx -> @alfiebuttle: @yourusername excuse you, he absolutely can thank you very much.

@faithlouisak: stunning girl xx -> @yourusername: @faithlouisak thank you queen! miss you and cant wait to see you and little olive soon xx

@user: utterly obsessed with you!! where's the stunning dress from? ❤️ -> @yourusername: @user thank you angel! i got it from @ohpolly <3

@mollymae: holy mother smoking hot -> @yourusername: @mollymae you're my girl crush <3

@alfiebuttle just added to their story

@yourusername just added to their story

@alfiebuttle: took the missus on a holiday and now she doesn't want to go back to the grotto ... chat am i cooked? tagged: @yourusername ------------------- ❤️ yourusername, georgeclarkeey and others | 💬 8,235 | ➤ 24,340 ------------------- @yourusername: i'll only agree to go back to the grotto if you let me keep that kitten -> @user: @yourusername i hope you got your kitty ! -> @alfiebuttle: @yourusername fine fine you win, now pls can we go back to the grotto, wifey? -> @yourusername: @alfiebuttle ofc gimpy gimpy perm boy <3 -> @alfiebuttle: @yourusername i thought you love me ...

@georgeclarkeey: ab finally touching grass? -> @alfiebuttle: @georgeclarkeey i can do a whole lot more than touching grass ;) -> @yourusername: @georgeclarkeey @alfiebuttle you can keep him xx

@theburntchip: let her stay, i'll moving into the grotto with you -> @alfiebuttle: nah i'm good unc. @sabinablair_ he escaped again... -> @sabinablair_: @alfiebuttle keep him x -> @alfiebuttle: @sabinablair_ door

@user: post the vlog!! -> @alfiebuttle: lemme cook first

@yourusername just added to their story

@alfiebuttle: generational vlog coming soon | yt: ABvloggin tagged: @yourusername ------------------- ❤️ yourusername, theburntchip and others | 💬 9,238 | ➤ 18,992 ------------------- @yourusername: guys subscribe so he can get me that chanel bag pls xx -> @user: @yourusername ahahah you're so real queen x -> @alfiebuttle: @yourusername yo wtf

@calfreezzy: can't wait to talk about the yacht story on the podcast -> @alfiebuttle: absolutely not happening -> @yourusername: @calfreezy ahaha can't wait to tell the world about this generational fall x

@user: sounds like a bit of a movie you're cooking there x @user: yooo family

@user: when's the vlog out boss? -> @alfiebuttle: editing as we speak

@alfiebuttle just added to their story

@yourusername: never want to leave this place (also george said you lot better sub to my channel. yt: yourusername - vlog dropping this week) xx tagged: @alfiebuttle ------------------- ❤️ alfiebuttle, taliamar, and others | 💬 4,591 | ➤ 13,297 -------------------

@user: SHES SO FIT WTF -> @yourusername: @user thank you xx

@user: you're so fine, marry me instead @user: jealous of u @user: that tan and ur bodyyy omfgggg @user: not george having fomo xx @user: shes dropping a vlog whilst on holiday, what a queen x

@faithlouisak: my wifeyyyy so hott -> @yourusername: @faithlouisak i love you myyyyyy wifey for life <3 -> @alfiebuttle: how many goddamn wives do you have? @yourusername

@myamills: i need to know how many kinis did you packed ahaha x -> @yourusername: apparently not enough for a 2 weeks trip xx

@glambyflo: what a woman @glambyflo: my gorgeous gorgeous bestie xx -> @yourusername: @glambyflo i luv u bby xx

@bambinobecky: oh my lawwwd get on my bed rn x -> @yourusername: @bambinobecky omw hunnie xx -> @alfiebuttle: @yourusername did i just lost my gf to becky wtf

@yourusername: meet little sweet boy myko (named after mykonos) - our new member of the family <3 tagged: @alfiebuttle ------------------- ❤️ faithlouisak, chrismd10 and others | 💬 7,484 | ➤ 20,521 ------------------- @faithlouisak: oh my sweet, how adorableeeee!!! -> @yourusername: @faithlouisak i'll bring him to london next time so you can meet him! he's an absolute sweetheart! -> @alfiebuttle: @faithlouisak you can keep him

@theburntchip: happy wife, happy life, right? @alfiebuttle -> @alfiebuttle: haha absolutely mate

@chrismd10: i'm stealing your cat btw -> @yourusername: don't be upset just because shannon took smudge away from you -> @chrismd10: @yourusername you're evil y/n -> @georgeclarkeey: @yourusername pls he still has a photo of smudge's in his room ahahaha -> @alfiebuttle: @chrismd10 good luck with that mate ahaha

@bambinobecky: is it too early for another cat yet? -> @alfiebuttle: don't encourage her (she's already looking at adoption shelters...) -> @yourusername: @bambinobecky never too earlyyy ahaha!!

@alfiebuttle: cutie patootie -> @yourusername: @alfiebuttle soooo you do like him huh? -> @alfiebuttle: @yourusername he's alright i guess

@yourusername just added to their story

YOUTUBE - ABVloggin just posted a new video !

@ABVloggin : AB unlocked a new sidequest in Greece with @yourusername 221K views | 1 day ago 265 comments -------------------

user: yooo family user: generational vlog from gimpy gimpy perm boy user: we need more @yourusername in your vlog ❤️ by ABVloggin user: top 3 ab's vlogs for sureeee (thanks to y/n) yourusername: you cut out the clip of you falling down the stairs off the yacht?! • ABVloggin: the world will never see that.

YOUTUBE - yourusername just posted a new video !

@YOURUSERNAME : TRAVELING TO GREECE FOR THE FIRST TIME 🇬🇷 ft. AB 190K views | 1 day ago 135 comments -------------------

📌 pinned by yourusername ABVloggin: i can't believe you kept that clip in smh • yourusername: the world deserves to see that ;) user: y/n's vlogs are top notch. soo aesthetically pleasing, relaxing and therapeutic! her vlogs are so well edited! ❤️ by yourusername user: i've been waiting for this vlog ! user: 9:22 when ab fell down the stairs omfg i'm dyinggggg ❤️ by yourusername user: she is actually living the dream for real user: we need more vlogs asap pls ! • yourusername: they're coming i promise !

[clarkeyszn]

# A BOY WHO’S JACKED & KIND ! george clarke

summary: you convince george to film a tiktok video with you. warnings: none although it is mentioned that george is able to lift reader onto his shoulder?? pairing: george clarke x fem! reader, established relationship. word count: 1.3k author’s note: inspired by the tiktok the useless hotline boys made bc i wish it was me! this wasn't proofread very well as i, yet again, prioritised my writing over my life commitments and i am now running late for work 👍

slim pickins — sabrina carpenter

it starts on a quiet friday afternoon. you and george both had a day off work and so you had taken the opportunity to have a cozy day in, just the two of you. you're sprawled on the sofa, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. george was spread out next to you, half asleep, when you nudge him with your phone. 

when he doesn’t respond, you nudge him again. “george.”

“hm?” he mumbles, peeking one eye open. 

“can we do this tiktok?” you showed him your phone. it was from one of your friend’s account to sabrina carpenter’s ‘slim pickins’ where her boyfriend lifts her up onto his shoulder. 

“you want me to lift you up for a tiktok video?” he blinked. 

“yeah,” you nodded, enthusiastically. 

“absolutley not,” he laughed, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes.

you sat up straighter, “what? why?”

"i'm not doing a trend called 'slim pickins'. what even is that?"

"don't act like i didn't catch you saving sabrina carpenter edits into a folder." you glared at him, "all you have to do is pick me up. what's even the point of all that muscle if you don't wanna use them?" you pinched his arm.

"first of all, ouch." he glared at you, "secondly, it's cringe."

you huff and flop back against the cushions of the sofa,, dramitically wounded. "you're so boring."

"i'm saving us from tiktok humiliation." he says, "the lads'll never let it go if i start doing coupley tiktoks." he complains, already closing his eyes again like the conversations over.

"please." you scoff, "you're mpre affectionate with chris and arthur than you are with me."

george just snorted, eyes still closed.

you sulk for exactly ten minutes, then you let it go. for now.

the next day

you woke up the next morning alone. george had left early, before the sun even rose, to film the next episode of the useless hotline. this meant you got to enjoy yet another blissfully quiet day.

that is, until you open your tiktok for you page.

there he was, your boyfriend, with his podcast co-host on his shoulder to the sound of the exact sabrina carpenter song you had shown him not even twelve hours prior, grinning like it was the most fun he had in weeks.

it was funny, of course, the running joke that you and andrew were merely side pieces in max and george's borderline romantic dynamic. but, still, you weren't letting this go easily.

later that night, you're sitting cross-legged on the bed, phone in hand. waiting for george to finish streaming. he's been live for hours now. talking, laughing, completely unbothered as he plays games for the people watching. eventually, you get bored of waiting, so you get up with your phone in hand and walk down the hall.

george is mid-sentence, laughing at something on his screen, when the door creaks open behind him. at first, he doesn't notice you, not until his chat explodes.

'Y/N!!!' 'she looks so done 😭' 'uh oh george is in trouble'

george grinned at the chat before turning in his chair to face you, "hey, baby. what's up?"

"not much." you shrugged, walking over to him and standing behind his chair, leaning down so you were visible on stream, "whatcha doin'?"

"watching random tiktoks." he said, showing you his screen.

you gasped, "oh! i saw a really good one earlier, can i show you?"

"yeah, go for it." he nodded, getting up from the chair so you could use the pc.

you took a seat and began typing into the search bar.

@/theuselesshotlinepod

you clicked onto the profile and went to the most recent video.

"oh no," george sighed and started nervously laughing behind you, hiding behind his gaming chair.

"no, no!" you said sweetly, tapping his arm like you weren't plotting his downfall, "watch it."

you pull up the video in full screen and hit play. sabrina carpenter's voice began echoing through the room.

"a boy who's jacked and kind—"

"it was max and calum's idea, i swear." he laughed.

"was it?" you asked, "chat, i literally asked him to do this exact video yesterday. and he said no!" you laughed.

'LMAOOO' 'the other woman😭' 'i wonder if andrew feels the same' 'she bought RECEIPTS.'

george hides behind the chair again. "i'm being cyberbullied."

"you deserve it." you grinned.

you let the video play one more time, just to drag it out a little while longer. then, satisfied, you grabbed your phone, said goodbye to the chat and left the room.

a while later, you were curled up on the sofa, still scrolling through tiktok when george emerged from his streaming room with a sheepish smile on his face.

"are you actually upset?" he asked, standing in front of you.

"not upset, upset." you shrugged, "but it would be nice if my boyfriend would make tiktoks with me."

he grabbed your hands and pulled you up from your place on the sofa, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. "you're so petty." he chuckled, kissing your forehead.

you hummed, burying you head into his chest. "you love it."

he pulled away, picking your phone up from where you left it on the coffee table. "i do. that's why i'm gonna do it once. and if i throw my back out, you owe me physio."

you looked up at him, "you're not doing this out of guilt, are you?"

"absolutley not," he said, already walking over to the window sill. "i'm doing it because i'm jacked and kind."

his poor joke made you burst into laughter, "you're so annoying."

"come on, let me hoist you."

you clapped your hands, jumping up and down on the spot. "thank you! thank you! thank you!"

the two of you prop your phone up on a stack of cookbooks that have never been touched and an empty coffee mug like this tiktok was some high-level production.

you queue up the audio, bounce on your feet a little as the countdown begins, you turn to george. "ready?"

"not really." he huffed, rolling up the sleeves of his jumper as the music starts playing.

you stood in front of him, his hands found their place securely around your waist.

"a boy who's jacked and kind..."

george lifts you up, effortlessly, onto his shoulder. for a second, everything's going perfectly. you're sitting on his shoulder, balanced like a princess, while he beams at the camera.

"can't find his ass to save my life."

then, because he cannot be serious for one minute, he pretends to wobble.

"george!" you shriek, grabbing a fistful of his hair for stability.

"you're fine!"

you're both laughing so hard, he actually nearly drops you the next time. but he manages to power through to the end of the audio and gently, and safely, lowers you to the floor.

you stuble your way over to your phone, still laughing, george comes up behind you, the pair of you watching the video back before you posted it.

it looks like it was filmed by a couple of sleep-deprived toddlers, which honestly checks out.

within minutes, the comments start rolling in.

'THIS is couple goals.' 'she won 😭' 'petty always wins, ladies.' 'max_balegde: jealousy wasn't a good look on you, babe x'

george scrolls through them from where he’s flopped next to you on the sofa, grinning. “okay, i’ll admit,” he says, nudging your knee, “that was kind of fun.”

you smile, nudging him back. “told you.”

he tilts his head, watching you for a second. “still not doing another one, though.”

“sure,” you say, already opening your tiktok app and queuing up the next audio.

he groans, dragging a pillow over his face. “i’ve created a monster.”

but when you peek over the pillow and raise an eyebrow, he’s already laughing, and you know damn well he’ll do it again.

[clarkeybabey]

hanging up on them without saying "i love you"

Arthur Television

He calls back IMMEDIATELY bless him

you hear what sounds to be him running and based on the echo probably up a stairwell out of breath

"what the... are you okay?" there's a pause and he seems to have stopped sprinting

"'m fine, open your door." "what."

you stand perplexed in your kitchen for a moment until there's knocking on your door.

when you open it he is standing outside, his hair windswept with chocolate and your favorite drink

"What is this for?" "i just love you," he shrugs, pulling you into a hug, kissing the crown of your head

Arthur Hill

He's in soundcheck so he can't call back at that second

but he sends a text instead:

"ubereats'ed a coffee for you, baby💓"

you didn't understand why, but now your cheeks hurt from smiling.

"thank you, see ya tonight. I love you<3"

ChrisMD

calls back like 5 minutes later, and literally steps out of a meeting w/ his producers

"i said i love you, you gimp." "WOAH, is that really called for"

"just calling it how it is" The smile on his face can literally be heard in his voice, and then all you hear is the click of him hanging up

bro is such a bully wtf

George Clarke

stares at his phone thinking of every remotely terrible thing he's done in his lifetime

he swears there's nothing he can think of.

hes never done the whole relationship thing before so he texts you trying not to freak you out. he doesn't wanna be overbearing

after typing, deleting and retyping the same message a million and one times, he finally sends it: "everything okay?"

"sorry, I hung up with my cheek. i love you!!!"

he lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow.

Harry Lewis

doesn't notice at first, as he's filming with the boys

when he has a second to sit down he sees a text from you

as he reads it he thinks back "holy shit, I'm in trouble"

he dials your number so damn fast

you answer and don't get a chance to speak

"baby, what'd I do?" "harry, what?" "you didn't say you loved me"

"Im sorry?" you're confused and he can hear it in your voice

"when you called earlier. you hung up and didn't say it back."

"That was four hours ago????" "doesn't matter. what happened?"

WillNE

he doesn't call back, but jim does!

"mrs. lenney, will's losing the plot, please tell him you love him."

"james, fuck off, mate." you burst out laughing, realizing your mistake but before you can correct it james cut in again.

"you don't even have to mean it," followed by shuffling and shouting.

now will's on the other end of the phone, "oi! of course she does. right, darlin'?" the uncertainty in his voice makes you laugh again

you decide to toy with him just a bit and skip over his question completely, "James, how are you?"

"both of ya can fuck off actually."

[themdera]

I have no clean thoughts about this

[live-laugh-lenney]

temptation | george clarkey

summary; george misses his girlfriend, yn, so the sidemen bring her in during his time on 'inside'... but her visit comes at a cost.

word count; 4.2k

** warnings; slight mention of sex but just some sickening fluff. **

'inside' really re-ignited my love for george, not that i didn't love him enough already, so thank you for that, sidemen. in a real funk for him so this is a little something to bring both my feels and the beauty of george on 'inside' together! let me know what you think. enjoy! x

“Whatever you do, just resist whatever they throw at you.”

“I mean, I don’t really think I should be taking spending advice from the one guy spending the most of our prize money in here,” George taunted playfully, a guilty look spreading across PK’s face that soon broke apart with a cheeky grin before his hands came up in a surrender, acting like the innocent man he was portraying to the cameras yet those around him could just about see right through him, “but that was the plan, my man.”

George shot a playful finger gun in PK’s direction with a wink following suit before he disappeared around the corner of the fake living room, all put together in a studio for the sake of the show, and away from the chatter and the laughter coming from the other housemates. Their conversations becoming distant, almost inaudible mumbles, as he rounded the corner to the Temptation Room and awaited the fate of his next decision. His thoughts raced through his mind because he wasn’t sure what his plan was. 

He’d seen the temptation that Whitney had faced, knowing it was one she definitely couldn’t resist,  and he’d seen the temptation Jason had accepted, just a day prior to his own moment in the temptation room, that had been something he was passionate about happening. 

George really didn’t want to follow suit.

He wanted to resist. 

He was going to resist…

… or that’s what he told himself.

He told himself to be strong and to remember that whatever they were going to put before him, he could probably have once he’d left the show. He told himself to ignore what the Sidemen were about to put before him because he knew they were doing it for the content of the show. Yet he had a gut-feeling it was going to be something difficult for him not to be tempted by, and they knew what his weaknesses were, telling himself to think about how the prize pot would be worth splitting if he chose to resist, if he ever had the chance of becoming a finalist.

“Welcome to the Temptation Room, George,” Vik’s voice echoed around the empty room, catching George’s attention as his eyes dodge where the cameras were placed, looking anywhere but the lenses that were filming his every move because he knew he was going to be sussed out, “if you take a look to your left, there’s another door. Resting on top of the doorframe, above your head, is a card which has your temptation in. If you could reach for it and read it out loud.”

“Yes, Vikstar.”

And he did as he was told.

“In the room before you-” George started reading but he caught a glimpse at what was next to come on the card and his words, as well as his breath, caught in his throat, “shut up, you’re joking me?”

“If you could finish what’s written on the card,” Vik warned him gently but there was a hint of a smile in the words that came through the speaker, “please, George.”

“In the room before you is your girlfriend, YN. For thirty thousand pounds of the prize money, you can spend half an hour with her. Do you accept your temptation, George?” He read from the card and he could feel his heart pumping sporadically in his chest, his hands trembling and his legs turning into jelly as he stood before the door, knowing just who was on the other side. “This is a new low, Sidemen.”

“We know you miss her, George. We’ve heard you speak of her a lot whilst you’ve been in here so it wouldn’t be so bad if you accepted it,” Vik said with a hint of mischievous and cheekiness in his tone and George groaned exasperatedly, rolling his head back and letting go of the card, completely dismissing it as it floated to the floor and landed by his feet, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes out of frustration, “she’s made it very clear to us how much she misses you, too.”

“But the final is only a couple of days away and I swore I wouldn’t take this temptation so we could keep the money. The guys back in the house, they thought I was the strongest member who wouldn’t get tempted,” he said, almost as a reminder to himself as he spoke aloud his thoughts, “but, God, I do miss her though. A whole lot. We spend almost every single day together so it’s strange for her not to be in bed when I wake up in the mornings or walking around telling me stupid jokes in the silence. Instead, we have KSI’s hollering to get us out of bed.”

There’s no response to him - part of him wanted Vik to give him some guidance but he knew that was a long shot - and he frowned.

He wanted nothing more than to accept.

When he woke up in the morning, he thought of her routine. Not that he knew the time but he checked off a list that he thought she’d have done by then; made the bed, ate her breakfast, got herself showered and dressed for the day, watched what she missed on television before she started her work day. He thought about what she might have had for lunch, what she might have been planning for dinner, who she was out and about with as she passed the time and filled the void of him not being there.

He missed her small daily updates as she informed him what she was up to. Silly pictures to accompany her tasks, updating him on how she’d bumped into Arthur unexpectedly for lunch or went out for an impromptu pint with Chris because she’d seen him out and about, expressing how she couldn’t wait to come home and have him all to herself because that feeling was always matched and he was never ashamed to tell her how he wanted to a night in with her.  

When he went to bed at night, all he could think about was YN. Wondering what she was up to, whether she was asleep or scrolling through TikTok because she couldn’t drift off, knowing she would be frustrated at herself because she liked to be up early so she could plan out her day. He wondered whether she was thinking about him like he was thinking about her, wondering if he was okay like he was wondering if she was okay, wondering if she missed his cuddles and how she wanted nothing more than to be curled up by his side which was a feeling he missed a lot.

His routine had changed, not that he had much of a routine to follow, and having a YN-shaped hole in his life for that week was tough for him to deal with.

“Your radio silence makes this so much easier for me,” George grumbled sarcastically, sitting himself down on the floor and resting his back against the wall beside the door, “I don’t want to spend money because I haven’t spent a lot of money but because I haven’t spent much money in here, it almost feels like it’d be acceptable for me to go ahead and agree.”

He sighed with slight aggravation because the decision that he needed to make had the cogs in his mind working overtime.

“I’m surrounded by strangers here and as nice as they are and as great a conversation they hold, and it’s been nice getting to know them but no-one beats YN and that’s why I’m so stuck. I want some normalcy and the feeling of home, just to feel like I’m in my safe space,” George argued with himself, the back of his head colliding with the wall behind him, “I know she’s in there and I know she would say we only have two days left before we see each other and that it would be a waste this far into the week.”

“What’s your answer, George?”

“I need a moment,” he admitted and, for the first time, he looks into the camera lens and it’s evident he’s torn up over both sides of the decision that he needed to make. His eyebrows are pinched together on his browline, his cheeks are a rosy-pink colour from how heated he was making himself feel over his thoughts, his eyes full of desire to see her yet his mind was telling him a whole something different, “I think-”

He cuts himself off and there’s a smile that twitches his lips.“I think you might want to turn off the cameras because I’ve really missed her and I might not be able to hold back,” he said with cheekiness in every word that rolled off his tongue, “I want to see YN. I need to see her.”

“I accept the temptation, Sidemen,” he said with slight trepidation to the sentence; he was really about to see the one person he’d been craving to see for the last few days and he felt… nervous. Of course he felt nervous. Because he didn’t know how the rest of the house would react to him spending 30k on seeing someone he had a possibility of seeing as soon as the next elimination rolled around but, at the same time and almost blurring the lines between the two, there were excited nerves that were fluttering around his insides because it was his girlfriend he was about to see. “Let me see her, please.”

The lock of the door clicked beside him and it caught his attention from where he was still situated on the floor, a creak soon following as it opened, and he saw her trainers before he saw the rest of her. The Adidas Campus trainers that were coloured an off-white cream and a deep-green, that he always took the mickey out of because the laces were so chunky and made her feet look tiny compared to his own, were matched with baggy jeans and a white t-shirt fitted to her frame that was paired with one of his zip-up hoodies that seemed to swallow her up… yet she still looked comfortable and cosy. And seeing her face was all it took for him to feel all of his emotions flooding through him.

“Are you going to get up and hug me or what?” She wondered and he scoffed out a gentle laugh, his eyes glossing over and he refused to let his tears spill because he didn’t want to be deemed an emotional wreck all over Twitter when the show came out on Netflix, “come on, you silly billy.”

She held her hands out and he took them, without hesitation, pulling himself to his feet and wasting no time in wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to his body, her head slotting nicely underneath his chin, her arms linking around his waist as she gave him a squeeze that the both of them seemed to need in that moment. The first ounce of true happiness he’d felt in five days, the desired touch of the one person he wanted around, breathing in the scent of her perfume. His stresses from the previous few days, and the knowledge of him being on a television show that kept him away for a week, seemed to disappear and, in that moment, it was just the two of them.

In their own little bubble.

And they stood like that for a good few minutes.

Neither one of them wanted to break the silence that surrounded them as they stood together, arms wrapped around each other as they swayed from side to side in the baron room, their rhythmic breathing being the only thing that seemed to fill it. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered into her ear, a tickling sensation coursing down her neck from where his facial hair brushed over her skin. In the five days he’d been unable to groom himself, it had gotten a lot longer than she was used to (not that she was complaining - if someone asked her how she felt, a complaint would be the furthest thing from what she would say, if she was being honest), sending goosebumps down her arms and a shiver down her spine, “so much.”

“I’ve definitely missed you more,” she giggled sweetly and she reluctantly pulled away from him, loosening her arms around his middle and bringing her hands to cup his cheeks in her palms, “the boys have been driving me crazy, you know? They let me stay for the week whilst you’re not there and I have no idea how you put up with them.”

“You learn to drown them out,” he said and tilted his head to the side and into the gentle touch caressing one of his cheeks, “but I’m glad you’ve had some company this week. Even if they are annoying, they mean well.”

“I think they miss you a lot, too,” she informed him, “Chris has been coming to me for advice like he would go to you for. But I don’t know if I can give good advice as someone that isn’t a bloke.”

“Anything can be better than what I tell him,” George snickered and she rolled her eyes, “seriously. You think I tell him what he should do? He goes and does the opposite of what we say, anyway.”

He wrapped his hands around her wrists, pulling them from his face and along with him as he went back to the place he was sitting when she entered the room, the both of them sliding down the wall as they sat beside each other. He bent his knees up, resting his elbows on them and stretching his forearms out, whilst YN stretched out her legs and placed her hands in her lap.

“How are you finding this whole thing?”

“Not as hard as I thought I would,” George said and YN nodded softly as he spoke, a warm smile on her lips as she listened to him tell her everything he wanted to get off his chest, “but I think I’m just struggling to feel a part of something here. Everyone has someone they can go to, like a small group, when things get a bit difficult or when something happens so I just feel like I’m stuck in the middle. I’m friends with everyone here now which I think is helping me but,” he shook his head in denial, “I don’t know how the hell I’m still here. These guys have so much more going for them than me. They’re louder than me, have more of a personality, are definitely going to be shown a lot more than me so I have no idea what the hell I’m still here for.”

“You deserve your place here,” she clarified, “you must be doing something right if you’re two days away from the final day.”

“There are moments during the elimination rounds where I wish it wouldn’t play into my favour but I can’t seem to fail on purpose. I’m so thankful to be here and grateful that the Sidemen asked me to be here but, at the same time, I want to come home. I want to be back where I feel comfortable, in my own bed and my own flat, with my idiot friends and lovely you,” he looked at her and slotted his fingers through hers, holding her hand tightly, “I want to be back with you. I hate not walking into a room and not seeing you sitting on the sofa or waking up next to you in bed and watching you sleep or hearing you sing in the shower or see you making me some breakfast in the mornings, even if it is just some scrambled eggs on toast.”

“It’s not long and we’ll be back doing those small things you love,” she reminded him and her thumb rubbed across his knuckles in a soothing manner, “I can’t wait to watch you on Netflix either. I can’t wait to tell people all over the place that my boyfriend is a Netflix star.”

“A Netflix star may be a bit of a stretch,” he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “you’ve not told anyone, have you?”

She shook her head.

“I know you and how bad you are at keeping secrets,” he teased and nudged an elbow into her side, and she rolled her eyes in response to him, “reckon I could smuggle you back in there? I don’t think they’ll notice if I sneak you in under my jumper and hide you in my bed.”

“Oh, I reckon they would,” she laughed and he groaned at her answer, rolling his head back and letting it collide softly with the wall, “I was really hoping you wouldn’t accept your temptation, you know?”

“Why?”

“Because it means saying goodbye to you again,” she said, turning on the spot and she sat herself upright so she was facing him, her vision looking down at her lap as her fingers played with the digits on his hands to distract her mind from thinking about the half an hour that was passing too quickly, “I hated it the first time so this one sucks even more.”

It was a night she couldn’t forget, still fresh on her mind, and she could feel the heartache so vividly. As if every time she thought about it, she was reliving that morning.

The morning started off early but slow. They woke up hours before they needed to so they could squeeze in a cuddle in bed, which soon turned into the slowest sex they could make that allowed them to drink in every single emotion in every single moment, holding each other close as if they would disappear if they let go. They showered together, they got ready together, all whilst shedding a few unwarranted tears as they prepared themselves to spend a week without any form of contact. They stretched out breakfast-time which consisted of quick goodbye sex on the counter as they waited for their food to cook and, by the time mid-morning had come by, they’d already squeezed in enough time together to feel satisfied in how they parted ways. His suitcase packed for the week and stood upright at the front door beside his shoes as well as the jacket he was going to wear for his entrance, the two of them holding each other as they whispered their goodbyes to each other.

A morning she was going to need them to relive once he was home so the memory had a positive connection. 

“I needed to see you though. As much as I hate saying goodbye, too, I just needed a little boost before the end.”

“I would have done the same though,” she admitted, shrugging nonchalantly and looking up at him, “you have such a strong hold on me, George Clarke.”

“As do you, YN YLN,” he repeated in the same manner, “I couldn’t not say yes knowing you were on the other side of the door. So close to me. I wasn’t going to let the opportunity of holding you and having you next to me pass me by. Some of these guys have accepted theirs and they’ve spent so much more than me through the week. I feel it was an okay choice to make.”

“Spoilers,” she warned him, pointing an accusing finger at him before covering her ears in protest to hearing anything else that she was going to watch in the show when it aired, “don’t tell me anything else, mister.”

Before they knew it, as if no time had passed at all, it was soon time for them to say their goodbyes. 

George could feel it in the pit of his stomach, heavy and twisting up into knots that made him feel sick, knowing that it was soon approaching the half an hour mark and he hated how quickly it seemed to go. And YN could feel her emotions building up, with an ache in her throat that made it hard to swallow and a feeling of dread coursing through her that made her feel tense and sad, trying not to look at him in fear that she would crumble on camera.

The door that she had entered opened again and they took that as their cue to stand back to their feet.

“What’s stopping me from walking out with you?” 

“You’d be an idiot to do that,” she laughed softly, shaking her head at his bizarre proposition, “you’ve got this far so you need to see this through till the end, you donut.”

His fingers connected with hers, keeping a tight grip on her as if she would walk out that door and never be seen by him again, and his thumbs stroked across the back of her hands. She could feel the shaking of his limbs from the disdain of having to see her walk out and disappear behind the door, and it was enough to bring tears to her eyes. 

“I love you,” she smiled sweetly, contradicting the tears that had threatened her eyes and had slowly started to dribble down her cheek, “forty-eight hours and you’ll be back with me.”

“It could be less,” he reminded her, bringing his hands up to wipe away the tears away from her cheeks with his thumbs, “I could see you tomorrow.”

“Be optimistic, mister. You’re going to that final,” she says, leaning up on her toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek and she allowed her lips to linger a little longer against the soft curve of his cheek, “I would give you a great big smacker on the lips but Netflix might have to change the rating of the show because I don’t think I can control myself.”

He smirked at her and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks.

“Yeah, we best not do anything too risqué. We’ll save that for the privacy of the bedroom,” he whispered with an almost growling tone, “I love you.”

“George, YN. I’m afraid your time together is up.”

“Yes, thank you, Vikstar. You don’t need to remind us,” George grumbled to the camera and, as saddened as she was, she giggled at his attitude to the voice that echoed around the room, “I guess this is it.”

“Sadly,” she pouted and neither one of them could take their eyes off each other, “someone’s going to have to pry me away from you, I think. I can’t bring myself to step away.”

“Go on,” he mumbled dejectedly, his eyebrows pinching together, “forty-eight hours to go.”

“I’ll see you on the other side,” she grins, pulling her hands away from his at an agonisingly slow speed, “good luck. I love you.”

“I love you more,” he watches as she steps towards the door. 

Deep down, she didn’t want to turn around to look at him and, truthfully, George didn’t think he could handle it if she took one last look at him; he was okay with watching the back of her as she disappeared around the door and, as it slowly closed behind her, he felt his heart plummet to the floor.

As he stepped foot back into the small bubble of Inside, he felt sad yet he seemed to find a new found excitement to finish the show. That one half an hour with her being a pick-me-up, giving him a new lease of happiness, and he was determined to finish. The quicker the time went, the sooner he’d be back with her. The laughter and distant chatter seemed to get closer as he rounded the corner and ascended up the three stairs back into the main area, poking his head around the corner and looking into the room, a timid smile on his lips.

“You didn’t get locked in the room then,” Jason teased as George fell to the sofa and slouched down into the cushions with a grumpy expression on his face, “what was it? What happened?”

“Uhm,” he coughed into his fist to clear his throat, as well as to drag out the moment for dramatic anticipation for those around him and for those who would be watching when it was released to the world, “so, they uh- they tempted me with YN.”

“Oh, no way! Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” George nodded, “I couldn’t resist saying no so I took it. I had to see her. I needed to see her.”

“I think I’d have done the same if it was my partner,” Milli-Jo said, sitting beside George and resting her hand on his shoulder and rubbing it soothingly, “I don’t think anyone is going to be crazy mad at you for giving in. It happened last season, it was bound to happen this season. We should have seen it coming, truthfully.”

“I think I just needed to feel a sense of home. My normal life,” he admitted, guilt soaring through his veins at how the entirety of the room was watching him as he explained his reasoning, “she gets me through a lot, always has done since I’ve known her, so there was no way I was passing the opportunity. I thought about it but,” he shrugged, “I don’t think I’d have been happy walking out of that room if I turned it down.”

[gabbytvclarke]

The dog and the postwoman

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

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

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Woah, manners Chip!” George retorts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bone Appetite: 1 point

The Fe-Mails: 2 points

Gherkings: 3 points

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nerds?!” Arthur fake cries.

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

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

“Honestly, a little,” y/n replies.

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

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

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

“You’re not wrong there!” Arthur chuckles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bone Apetit: 3 points

The Fe-Mails: 3 points

Gherkings: 6 points

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur: “Alsatian”

Y/n: “Bulldog”

Becky: “Chihuahua”

Chris: “Uhh… Dalmatian!”

Chip: “Errr…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chip: “Avocado! Yes!”

George: “B…Banana”

Arthur: “Cantaloupe”

Y/n: “Dragon fr-“

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

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

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

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

“Y/n, hesitation!” Cal exclaims.

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

“That’s not fair!” Y/n retorts.

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

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

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

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

“I did!” Becky adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely not.” Chris says.

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

“I’m sorry, no.” Chris continues.

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

Arthur: “Calendar”

Y/n: “Desk!”

Becky: “Eeeeenvelopes”

Chris: “Ummm… F…”

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

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

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

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

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

Chris: “Argentina”

Chip: “Belgium“

George: “China”

Arthur: “Denmark”

Y/n: “England”

Becky: “… France”

Chris: “Germany”

Chip: “Hhhhhungary!”

George (laughing): “Iceland”

Arthur: “Japan”

Y/n: “Um… Kazakhstan”

Becky: “L…ondon!”

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

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

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

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

The scores at the end of this game are:

Bone Appetite: 4

The Fe-Mails: 5

Gherkings: 7

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

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

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

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

“Point. No, shot!” Chip shouts.

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With that round over, the scores are:

The Fe-Mails: 6

Bone Appetite: 7

Gherkings: 8

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Fe-Mails: 6

Bone Apetit: 6

Gherkings: 7

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get him, y/n!” Becky cheers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too,” George adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur makes his way back to the table, juggling three glasses of water. He offers Chip some of his water, to which Chip declines. They chat away about the day for the next few minutes, Arthur’s arm brushing past y/n’s every so often while talking, and occasionally his leg touches hers too. George being a ‘bro’ to both Arthur and y/n, excuses himself to go to the toilets, subtly gesturing for Chip to leave too. Chip says he wants some fresh air and heads outside, leaving Arthur and y/n alone. The booth suddenly feels more intimate.

Arthur shifts on the bench so he’s facing y/n more, his right arm resting on the back of the bench, his hand by y/n’s head. She turns to face him too, her elbow resting on the table and her head on her hand. “Did you enjoy today?” He asks quietly, struggling to maintain eye contact now they’re alone and off camera. She nods, sitting up straighter but looking at her lap awkwardly.

“It was probably the best video I’ve ever been a part of, including my own” she replies with a giggle.

“Really? That fun, huh?” Arthur responds, now looking at her. She nods again.

“Was there anything in particular, or the whole day as a whole?” He queries.

“The whole day,” y/n beams. Arthur then nods, y/n looks around the pub before feeling brave. “Actually, you definitely made things more fun” She adds. Arthur’s eyes widen as he takes a sip of his water, trying to come up with something to say. Y/n follows suit, although it’s because her mouth has become extremely dry.

“What do you mean?” He questions, studying her face with a flattered grin.

“You just made me feel super comfortable, not that anyone made me UNcomfortable, but yeah. It really helped calm my nerves.” Y/n explains.

“Aw well, I’m so glad to hear that,” Arthur replies, moving his hand from the back of the bench to y/n’s shoulder and giving it a gentle jostle. “I think this was my favourite pub golf, by far,” He continues, “and that was down to you, most definitely.”

There was a cozy silence between the two. Y/n nods gleefully as she takes another sip of her water. As she sets the glass back down, she looks to Arthur to see him studying her face. His smile still visible, although more so in his eyes rather than his lips, as his gaze flutters over her features, pausing at her mouth before darting back up to her eyes. They can feel each other slowly leading in.

“Arthur, y/n,” Chris startles them with a hand tapping on the table, “uh sorry, we’re all heading off now. You coming?” Y/n checks her phone, surprised to see it’s getting late. She didn’t originally know how long these pub golf videos take, and it certainly didn’t feel like it took a whole entire day. Arthur turns back to look at y/n with an inquisitive smile. “We’re gonna head back to theirs to watch a horror movie or something, if you want to join?” He asks.

“Yeah, you can crash if you’re not busy tomorrow too, Arthur’s staying over.” Chris chimes in. Y/n of course, accepts the invitation.

Chip makes his own way home, promising to text once he’s back safe. George, Chris, Arthur, and y/n head into a taxi to travel back to the boys’ flat. Chris sits in front with the driver, chatting away with him. Whereas y/n is sandwiched in the back between Arthur and George. “Come on y/n, put us out of our misery,” George starts, his odd sentence gains him confused glances from y/n and Arthur, “who do you think you’ll be shipped most with by the viewers after this video goes live?” He continues with a cheeky grin.

“Probably Becky again.” Y/n chuckles, replying fast without much thought.

“You and Becky, ey?” George enquires, pretending to think as he looks to the ceiling of the taxi and rubs his chin before adding: “Now there’s an image.”

“Don’t be such a perve!” Arthur scolds half-heartedly. They all share a snigger.

“I recon you two.” Chris chimes in, turning in his chair and gesturing to y/n and Arthur with a genuine smile, though his voice raspy.

“Oh really?” Arthur questioned, his cheeks beginning to burn again as y/n turns to look at him. The closeness of their faces in the cramped taxi adding to the heat as they lock eyes and share giggle.

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

[PART TWO]

A/n: my first fic! I hope you enjoyed, sorry it was long. I basically wrote out an entire YouTube view lol but I loved writing it nonetheless. I love a good fluffy slow burner, but I also love smut too so watch this space, hehe Part two at the boys’ flat? Also, shall I write a follow-up where y/n and Arthur end up in a pub golf pair after popular demand from the viewers? - Gabby xo

[livvymd]

keep quiet for me.

CHRIS'S DOOR clicks softly shut behind you, the sound quiet but final, like a held breath finally released.

You don’t hesitate. Your hands find the front of his hoodie as you push him back, step by step, your mouths crashing together in a kiss that’s all heat and urgency. His lips are soft but greedy, moving against yours with an almost frantic rhythm, tongue brushing yours, tasting like mint and something sweeter beneath it. His fingers slide up your spine beneath your shirt, warm and a little rough from calluses, dragging goosebumps in their wake as they pull you closer, closer still, like he doesn’t want a single inch between you.

He grunts softly when his knees bump the bed and sits with a thump, breath knocked from his lungs as he lands. The mattress dips under his weight, springs groaning quietly beneath him. His legs part naturally, not even thinking, just instinct ⸺ welcoming ⸺ and you move with purpose, stepping forward until your knees slot against the outsides of his thighs and you’re straddling him.

The warmth of him hits you immediately. His joggers are soft against your skin, but the heat of his cock pressed against them makes your breath catch. You sink onto him slowly, letting your body settle onto his lap, and the thick, straining bulge of him slots perfectly against your center. Your panties are already damp, silk clinging to your folds, and when your clothed cunt grinds down against the rigid length of him, you both gasp ⸺ low, involuntary, hungry.

“Wait,” he breathes, pulling back just enough that you feel the whisper of his breath against your lips. His chest rises and falls against yours. “They’re all in tonight. Arthur’s literally in the next room.”

You nod slowly, lips brushing his as you speak. “Then you better be quiet.”

Your hips tilt forward again, slower this time, more deliberate, and the drag of your heat along his cock sends a visible shiver down his spine. You feel him twitch beneath you. His grip finds your waist, fingers flexing once, hard, like he’s grounding himself ⸺ like he might come apart from just this alone.

“Fuck,” he whispers. His voice cracks around it.

You do it again, hips rolling with a teasing smoothness that makes your core throb. The friction is molten, the wet heat of your cunt pressed tight through two thin layers of fabric. Every movement makes your thighs clench, your breath hitch. You can feel him swell under you, thick and desperate, the outline of him unmistakable now, twitching each time your hips rock forward.

Chris groans, long and wrecked, tilting his head back slightly. His lashes flutter, jaw clenched tight, teeth sinking into his bottom lip like it’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely. You watch the flush creep up his throat, the sweat beginning to collect at his hairline. His hands stay right where they are, trembling against your sides, like he doesn’t trust himself to do more.

You lean in, kissing along his cheek, your voice a breath against his skin. “Want me to stop?”

His head jerks in a panicked shake. “No. No, don’t. Fuck, don’t stop.” His voice is all gravel and need. His hips twitch up beneath you without meaning to. “Just ⸺ come here. Please.”

His hands slide up to your back, dragging you forward until your chest presses to his, your mouths meeting again in a kiss that’s suddenly messier, wetter, full of tiny gasps and choked moans. His tongue slides against yours like he needs it, like he’s starved for you. And all the while, his cock throbs through his joggers, grinding up against the soaked fabric between your legs with every slow, maddening roll of your hips.

You’re soaked. He’s leaking. Your breaths are tangled and hot. And this is just the beginning.

You kiss him again, slower this time. Deeper. The kind of kiss that melts time, that makes the room fade around you until there’s only the slick glide of your mouths and the soft puff of your breaths. You can taste how badly he wants it ⸺ how his lips part just a little sooner, how his jaw tenses under your fingers, how a low, involuntary sound catches in his throat when your tongue brushes his.

He trembles beneath you, subtle but constant. His thighs are taut where you straddle them, hands gripping your waist like he’s scared you might vanish if he doesn’t hold tight. His fingers flex again, tighter now, pulling you flush against him. You can feel his cock through the fabric, thick and straining, every twitch sending sparks through you as it presses snug between your bodies.

You sit back for just a moment, enough to reach for the hem of your shirt. The fabric peels away from your skin slowly, your breath catching as the cooler air of the room brushes your flushed chest. He doesn’t move ⸺ just watches, lips parted, chest rising and falling beneath you ⸺ until you tug your top over your head and let it drop to the floor.

Chris’s hoodie follows, clumsy in his haste. It gets caught briefly at the back of his neck and you help him pull it free, both of you laughing softly into each other’s mouths before the kiss catches fire again. You push him back down gently and the clothes come off like petals, quiet, instinctive, left wherever they fall in the darkened room.

Now you’re down to skin and heat and the thinnest layers left between you. His boxers ride low on his hips, yours already soaked, clinging to your folds. When you sink down onto his lap again, his breath hitches so sharply you feel it echo in your own chest. Your lace brushes against the bare skin of his stomach, his chest, as you press flush to him. He’s so warm, flushed all over, his skin damp beneath your palms.

And his cock ⸺ fuck ⸺ it’s like iron beneath you, painfully hard, the thick head nudging perfectly between your folds even through the fabric. You can feel the heat of it, the pressure, the way it pulses up against you every time your hips shift. It sends a tight flutter through your core, need curling low and hot.

Chris groans softly, his head falling back against the pillows. One hand runs up your spine, dragging slow, grounding heat, while the other stays at your waist like an anchor.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he mutters, voice low and hoarse with restraint. His hips twitch up beneath you again, helpless. “You’re actually gonna fucking kill me.”

You smile against the curve of his neck, lips brushing the rapid pulse beneath his jaw. Then you lean in, nose grazing his ear, your whisper nothing more than breath.

“Not if you keep quiet.”

He shivers under you. Visibly. Almost violently.

HES INSIDE you slow.

The stretch steals your breath. His cock presses against your entrance, hot and thick, and as you ease down onto him, every inch slides deeper with excruciating care. The drag of him against your walls makes your thighs tremble. It’s not just the stretch ⸺ it’s the way he fills you, how warm he is, how sensitive everything feels under your skin.

Chris lets out a strangled noise, barely more than a whisper. His back hits the headboard with a dull thump as he grips the sheets, knuckles white, like it’s the only thing keeping him from losing it.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, voice shaky and raw.

You plant your hands on his shoulders for balance. The muscle there is tense beneath your palms, twitching faintly. Then you roll your hips, just once, slowly, testing the angle. The response is instant. His whole body jolts under you. He gasps, jaw slack, head falling back to knock softly against the wall.

“Shh,” you murmur against his skin, pressing a kiss to the curve of his jaw. “You said you could be quiet.”

He nods fast, blinking up at you with wide, glassy eyes. “I can, i can. Just.. slow.”

So you give him slow.

Measured, steady, your hips grind in a controlled rhythm. Every movement sinks him deeper, nudging the softest, most sensitive part of you. Your breath catches as heat coils low in your belly. Chris clings to your thighs now, his grip flexing with each roll, guiding but not forcing, grounding himself on you.

His mouth finds your collarbone. He doesn’t kiss ⸺ just breathes there, nose buried in your skin, trying to stay quiet. You feel him suck in a sharp inhale through his nose as your hips rock down again, and the little whimper he stifles into your shoulder sends a thrill through you.

Then, from outside the room, a burst of muffled laughter. Familiar. George.

You freeze, heartbeat stuttering.

Chris’s eyes fly open. He meets your gaze, pupils huge and dark, but there’s mischief blooming in his expression too. His hands smooth up your back, featherlight.

“They have no idea,” he whispers, voice thick with heat.

You clench around him deliberately.

His whole body jerks.

A breath escapes him. half-gasp, half-moan, before he catches it, biting his lip so hard the skin blanches. His head thuds back again, sweat gathering at his hairline.

“Bastard,” he mouths, chest heaving.

You smile, saccharine. “I didn’t hear a please.”

His fingers twitch at your hips. Then again, tighter, almost desperate.

“Please,” he whispers, voice cracking. “Please keep going. Please.”

So you do.

You ride him slow, every movement heavy and deliberate, fire pooling deep inside you. The friction between your slick folds and his rock-hard length beneath you sends scorching heat spiraling through your veins. His arms clamp around your waist, holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. Your foreheads press together, breaths shallow and ragged, the quiet hum of his heartbeat thudding beneath your cheek.

Your fingers twist into the back of his neck, skin warm and rough against your palms, while his breath ghosts over your lips ⸺ hot, trembling, sending a faint rush of warmth that makes your skin prickle. “You feel unreal,” he whispers, voice thick and cracked, “Every fucking time.”

You hush him with a kiss, slow and messy, tongues tangling, teeth grazing, breath mingling in a silent plea for quiet. His hands slip between you, thumb brushing over your sensitive bundle, moving in slow, burning circles that coil tighter and tighter inside you.

Your breath catches, chest tightening as the first wave crashes through you. A firestorm of pleasure blooms, muscles clenching tight then trembling loose, every nerve ending screaming in delicious overload. The slick heat of your wetness coats him, sticky and warm, the slickness making every subtle roll of your hips against him a friction of molten silk.

Chris groans, deep and guttural, the vibration of his voice rumbling against your skin as his hips jerk frantically inside you. The first pulse of his release bursts hot and thick, flooding you with a warmth so intense it feels like it’s melting you from the inside out. His hands dig into your hips like anchors, fingers splayed wide, trying to hold himself steady as his whole body shakes violently, limbs trembling and muscles spasming.

There’s barely time to catch your breath before the second surge hits, hotter, more urgent, thrumming through your core like an electric current. His breath catches, ragged and uneven, scent sharp with exertion and want, filling your senses as he bucks against you wildly. His cock pulses inside you, thick and warm, every shot sliding deep and sticky, making you ache with a desperate, beautiful fullness.

You sink your nails into the taut planes of his shoulders, skin taut and hot beneath your fingertips, leaving shallow crescent marks as he shudders uncontrollably. His muscles ripple beneath your hands ⸺ solid and trembling all at once—his body raw and surrendered. The scent of his sweat mingles with the faint musk of his arousal, intoxicating and heady.

You hold him close, your own breath ragged, the taste of him—salty, sweet ⸺ lingering on your tongue as you press closer, moving in tandem with the frantic rhythm of his hips.

Then the third wave crashes ⸺ long, ragged, and relentless. His voice breaks into a desperate, guttural groan, vibrating through you, the sound a shuddering echo in the quiet room. His body convulses beneath you, a trembling storm of need and release as he pours himself deep inside, pulsing with every thrust, thick heat spilling and coating you, warm and wet and impossibly full.

His arms tighten around you, the strength in his grip grounding you both as his entire frame quakes with the final tremors. You claw at the muscles of his shoulders, rough fingertips dragging over hot skin, seeking to hold onto him through the last waves of ecstasy.

The scent of your mingled sweat, his ragged breath, the slick warmth pressed between your bodies ⸺ all of it wraps you in a cocoon of raw, blazing intimacy. The tremors slowly ebb, leaving behind the heavy, electric silence of two bodies utterly undone and impossibly entwined.

You stay like that for a moment, just breathing, tangled up, quiet, glowing with the aftershocks still humming low in your veins. The air between you thick with heat and soft, steady heartbeats. Theres a sudden knock at the door. Sharp. Impossible to ignore.

You both freeze.

“Chris,” Arthur’s voice drifts through, muffled but way too close, “You coming to watch the game or have you literally died in there?”

Chris coughs, voice cracking slightly as he yells back, “Yeah! Just ⸺ uh ⸺ getting changed!”

You press your face into his neck, biting back a laugh as his breath tickles your skin. Arthur mutters something about him being weird and shuffles away.

Chris exhales slowly, his hands still locked on your hips. “That was way too close.”

You grin, brushing your lips against his again. “Maybe next time we put a sock on the door.”

“Maybe next time,” he murmurs, voice rough with amusement and lingering desire, “we wait till they’re out.”

You roll your hips once ⸺ just enough to make him flinch and jerk beneath you.

His eyes snap wide, dark and gleaming. “You’re evil.”

You smile, sweet and teasing. “But you love it.”

[authortelevision]

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

words: 2,312 ✦ .ᐟ

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

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

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“George—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…” you started.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay baby," he replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"George stop smiling you dick” you weakly whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tomorrow? Was I that good?”

“Fuck off.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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

MERRY CHRISTMAS <333

[lxvchrismd]

| Character.AI Bots |

Hi Guys! I am also on Character.AI (C.AI) if you guys are looking for some bots. The links below are for some of them! If the links aren’t working, feel free to let me know. <3

Will Lenney

| Will Lenney • Coming to an End.

Chris Dixon

| ChrisMD • Drunken Adventures.

Arthur Fredrick

| ArthurTv • Abnormally Obsessed.

| ArthurTv • Left on read?

George Clarkey

more to come….

Alfie Buttle

| Alfie Buttle • Shared Hatred

| Alfie Buttle • Historic Love

Arthur Hill

more to come….

[headdinthewall]

TWENTY ONE?! ── c. dixon ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

summary : in which chris’ friends are a little sceptical of your age gap, causing you to feel out of place and slightly insecure. a/n : my first request post! thank u to the anon who suggested it!💞 also you guys tysm for 465 followers! really appreciate all the love and support on my stories🫶🏼🫶🏼 content : established relationship ,, angst&comfort ,, implied sexual content at the end ,, reader is 7 years younger than chris ,, talks of reader being shorter than chris (5’2–5’4)

─────── THE TWO MONTHS that you’d had with Chris so far with absolutely perfect. After meeting him on a Sidemen Tinder IRL shoot, he’d caught up to you at the end and offered to take you out for coffee at some point. You’d accepted — of course, and since then everything was blissful. He’d asked you out after three months of consistently pleasurable dates and you now had been together for two months.

He was the biggest sweetheart, showing up to your apartment three times a week in the morning with a coffee and a toastie, he’d watch the football on his phone so you could watch your crappy reality tv shows on the tv.

You didn’t have anything to complain about — except one thing; publicity.

None of his friends knew you were dating, his viewers didn’t know you were dating, and you were nearly 90% sure that some part of him was a little embarrassed that he was dating … well, you.

It wasn’t because you were unattractive, or boring, or unfunny, or lacking in character, it was simply because you were seven years younger than him.

When you laid in bed at night thinking about it, it really wasn’t that serious. Most people tend to draw the line at 10+ years, so what was so wrong with you two being together?

His parents were oddly supportive — not that you perceived them to be arseholes — but some parents are likely to be weirded out when their son’s girlfriend is younger than their youngest child.

His mum was a little hesitant at first, asking what you do for a living, if you’re in university, and what you do in your spare time. But, after discovering that you were fairly well-rounded and quite relaxed compared to most girls your age, she seemed to grow a likeness towards you.

His sister — Kelly — adored you. She called you at least once a week, showing you an item she was really contemplating buying, or complaining about Chris and telling you to ‘sort your dwarf out’. She was never really concerned about your age, though she was shocked when he first told her how old you were.

As of right now, you were curled up on your couch, scrolling through Instagram as Chris bustled around your apartment, claiming he’d left a shirt here a couple nights ago. Him and the rest of the UK youtubers were having a barbecue at a rented air bnb to celebrate some sort of milestone for one of the creators.

“Check the washing basket.” You hummed, “I did a load last night.”

“Cheers, love.” He said, going into your room.

You pursed your lips, wondering if now was a good time to express how down you’d been feeling about your lack of exposure to his friends.

“Chris?” You called out.

“Hello.” He poked his head around the door frame.

“Can I come with you?”

“To the barbecue?”

“No, to the toilet.” You deadpanned, “Yes, to the barbecue. I just … I feel like I’m really disconnected from … your world. You only ever come to my apartment, you don’t let me come to yours, your friends don’t know about me, you maintain this ‘single loser’ persona online—“

“Hey!”

“You do, Chris. You know you do.” You sighed, “All I want is … I just want a bit of … y’know? Not care, because I know you care about me, it just feels like you’re a bit … ashamed, is all. Maybe it’s because sin younger, I dunno—“

You frowned, sitting down beside you on the couch and staring you dead in the eyes.

“Reader, you’ve never been more wrong about anything in your life.” He stated, “I’m not ashamed to be with you, I don’t care if I’m older than you. I chose you. You chose me. I don’t care what my friends have to say about it, I’m just trying to protect you from … public scrutiny, I guess. People are horrible, especially when your fanbase is mainly boys, and I don’t want to subject you to any hate. But … if you really want to come to the barbecue, I’ll gladly walk in there hand-in-hand.”

Your heart swelled in your chest, a shy smile stretching on your face at his wholesome words.

─────── THE BARBECUE HAD been taking place for about thirty minutes now. The minute you arrived, Chris' hand tightened around yours, yet his grin never faltered as he introduced you to all of his mates with the utmost enthusiasm.

"This is reader, we've been together for ... two? Months now."

"Hi, it's nice to meet you." You'd heard about a hundred times over, but you were still grateful for everyone being so accepting and not butt hurt and uptight about the fact that you'd kept your relationship hidden.

"Oh, shit, you were in our shoot!" JJ exclaimed out of shock when he'd finally recognised your face.

"Glad I made such a good impression." You quipped sarcastically, making Simon laugh beside him.

"Wait, aren't you like ... 21?"

You pursed your lips taking an awkward sip from your drink and nodding. His eyes widened and he laughed slightly. Though he probably didn't mean anything by it, his reaction sent a pang to your chest, feeling a slight gaze of judgement.

"21?!" Arthur Frederick exclaimed, jaw hanging low. "Fucking hell, Chris!"

"Oh, shut up, mate, it's not that deep." Chris scoffed, thumb rubbing back and forth over your hip.

"Finally someone my age! All these gimps are a different generation." Alfie chimed in, making you feel a little lighter and better about having most of the eyes on you.

"It would make more sense for you two to date." The other Arthur said in a complaining tone, and though you knew it was all part of his jokey attitude, it still made you feel a little self conscious.

Was it really that deep that you were 7 years younger? It's not like it was illegal, or even controversially that young.

"Wow, Josh is a whole decade older than you." Ethan commented, "So you're ..."

"2003." You confirmed, nodding, "Makes it sound a bit worse when you put it like that." You laugh off the awkwardness, and it seemed to work as a handful of others joined in laughter at your joke.

"Well, you've been more fun in half an hour than Chris has been in his entire life, so you can stay, pal." Chip clapped you on the shoulder.

“Smells better than him too.” Ginge added.

"Yep, cheers mate." Chris muttered and you chuckled, feeling more comfortable and lightweight as people were beginning to forget about your age and focus more on the fact that you had a genuine, nice presence about you and obviously made Chris look like the happiest man on the Earth.

Seriously, he hadn't cracked a mean joke at anyone this evening (or, less jokes than he usually did) and every time he looked over at you to make sure that you're alright, his smile only broadened upon seeing you get along with the girls, causing his friends to tease him and take the mick slightly.

"So, did the age not bother you?" Arthur asked, a sense of genuine interest in his tone.

"It would bother me, personally." Danny shared his thoughts.

"Good thing no one asked you, then." George snorted, causing everyone to chuckle.

"No, but, like, bro, c'mon. It's a bit odd." JJ agreed with Danny

"J, what's the age gap between your parents?" Tobi pointed out.

"Yeah, most parents have a 5 year age gap." Josh added.

"No, yeah, but they're parents."

"So if Chris and reader were to have kids it would make it better?" Simon questioned, making JJ rub his chin in thought.

"No offence, don't really care what you think, not your relationship." Chris said fleetingly, s if defending you was a second-nature to him. An instinct. "I was ... iffy about it at first, not because it made her less attractive, but because I thought it made me seem weird. But, it doesn't matter to us now, it's not like it's a significant gap. It's a few years, not a whole generation."

"Yes, Chris it is." Arthur laughed, "Gen Z starts at '97."

"Oh my God! Nonce, nonce!" George joked, pointing at Chris.

"Yeah, keep it coming." Your boyfriend sighed, taking a sip of beer.

"It's a good thing that she's shorter than you too, otherwise there'd be two red flags in your relationship."

The boys broke out into laughter.

"No, but she seems lovely. Really sweet girl." Arthur said once they'd calmed down.

"Nah, you're happy and that's what matters." Will agreed, "She’s a nice lass."

Chris thanked them for their compliments and turned his head to spot you but couldn't see you in the garden anywhere. He frowned slightly, really craning his neck in every direction to hopefully catch a glimpse of you. But all he saw was Liv approaching.

"Which one of you has said something?" She asked, taking her spot naturally beside Isaac.

"What do you mean?"

"About reader, she's really upset. Went inside."

Chris sighed, putting his Corona down and going off to find you.

You were stood in the bathroom, thumb in your mouth as yo anxiously chewed on your nails, little tears slithering down your cheeks.

Unfortunately, you hadn't caught the end of the conversation between the boys, only hearing the slight dig about your age being a 'red flag'. While the girls seemed to be very accepting and warming towards you, questioning you on everything but your age, the boys took the opposite approach.

You didn't know what was more awkward: The boys asking you about it to your face or them talking about it behind your back and making sly comments.

Maybe you were overreacting, but you really didn't like how they were all acting like yours and Chris' age gap was the biggest scandal or controversy to happen on the UK youtube scene.

"Reader? You up here, love?" You heard Chris' voice call out from the other side of the door.

His knuckles tapped on the wood.

"One second." You croaked out, sniffling and using tissue to blot under your eyes.

"Can you let me in?"

You cleared your throat and undid the lock, allowing him to slip inside and close the door behind him.

He sighed when he saw you trying to fix your makeup and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you clutched onto his waist, burying your face in his neck.

Chris pressed light kisses to your temple and forehead, whispering soft phrases into your ear in hopes of soothing your emotions.

"What did you hear? Because I guarantee it was a misunderstanding."

"I heard George say something about me being a red flag or something along those lines." You whispered.

"No, that's not what happened." Chris shook his head, pulling away slightly (but still keeping his arms around you) so he could look down at you. "He made a joke about our age gap being a red flag, not about you personally."

"Yeah, but so what if I'm seven years younger than you?" You huffed, feeling more agitation now, "Like, what is the big fucking deal? They act like I'm a twelve year old or some shit."

"None of them have said anything rude, I promise you. They've all been jokes or little comments—“

"Sorry, Chris, I understand that's their humour, but I don't find jokes funny when they're at the expense of someone else's feelings and emotions." You scoffed shaking your head.

"The only person out there who made a genuine, disrespectful comment was JJ and Danny, and I told them that it wasn't any of their business. Reader, this relationship," Chris gestured between the two of you, "Is none of anyone's business except ours. What happens here, the circumstances here, the situations we get ourselves in, are no one else's concern except for ours. Okay? I don't care what they think, and you shouldn't either, because it's me and you, babe. Okay?"

You nodded, still resting your cheek on his chest just for the comfort of being close to him.

"I love you." He dropped.

You blinked, staring up at him, "You do?"

"Yeah. If you think I'm moving too fast and you want me to back off, I will, but ... I need you to know that I love you, and their opinions and comments won't change that."

"I love you too." You smiled, kissing him chastely.

"Is that all? I just dropped 'I love you' and all I get is a little peck?" Chris feigned offence.

"What else do you want?" You smirked playfully.

He rolled his eyes at your attitude and leant forwards, kissing you deeply.

His tongue slid against yours and his hands cupped the back of your head.

"Don't you think we should go back out?" You asked, voice hoarse.

"Uhm, let me think about that one ... No." Chris said, "I'd much prefer my head between your legs right now."

Your eyes widened, "Chris!"

"What? I've gotta make up for my friends shitty comments, don't I?" He laid kisses down your neck, hands moving to the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it up inch by inch.

A cheeky grin spread across his face as he gently lowered himself to his knees, glancing up at you as you peered down at him — he wholeheartedly believed that when you gave him that look, he immediately got hard.