MASTERLIST :
Drunk Love ~ George Clarke
Pub Golf Lovin' ~ George Clarke
Glad I met you ~ Harry Lewis
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@georgiesworld4
MASTERLIST :
Drunk Love ~ George Clarke
Pub Golf Lovin' ~ George Clarke
Glad I met you ~ Harry Lewis

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I like talking to myself she just gets me
Drunk Love
George Clarke
The call came at 11:47 p.m.
You almost ignored it.
Unknown number, late at nightâusually not a great combination. But something in your gut told you to answer, and as soon as you did, the noise hit you first. Loud music, people shouting, laughter echoing in the background.
âHello?â
âY/N?â a voice saidâfamiliar, but slightly panicked. âItâsâuhâitâs one of Georgeâs mates.â
Your stomach dropped instantly.
âWhatâs happened?â
âItâs nothing bad,â he said quickly. âHeâs just⌠a bit too drunk.â
A bit.
Right.
You sighed, already grabbing your keys. âWhere are you?â
---
When you arrived, you spotted them immediately.
A small group stood outside, half-laughing, half-strugglingâand right in the middle of it was George Clarke.
Or at least⌠what remained of his dignity.
His hoodie was slightly twisted, hair a mess, and he was leaning heavily on one of his friends, blinking like the world wasnât quite staying still.
âThere she is!â one of them called as you approached.
Georgeâs head lifted slowly.
And the second his eyes landed on youâ
His entire face lit up.
âY/N,â he said, like heâd just found the answer to every problem heâd ever had.
Oh no.
You knew that tone.
---
âHi,â you said carefully, stepping closer. âYou alright?â
He immediately reached for you.
Not subtly.
Not gracefully.
Just fully let go of his friend and stumbled straight into you, arms wrapping around you like you were the only thing keeping him upright.
âYou came,â he mumbled into your shoulder.
His weight nearly knocked you back.
âI *had* to come,â you said, laughing despite yourself. âYouâre a mess.â
âNo, Iâm not,â he protested, tightening his grip on you anyway.
Behind him, his friends were tryingâand failingânot to laugh.
âHeâs been like this for the last half hour,â one of them said. âWouldnât stop going on about you.â
Your cheeks warmed. âOh, really?â
âOnly because I love her,â George slurred, lifting his head slightly.
You blinked.
His friends lost it.
âRight,â you said quickly, trying to regain control of the situation. âOkay. Weâre going home.â
âNo,â George said immediately.
You frowned. âNo?â
He shook his head, then winced slightly like even that was too much movement.
âI like it here,â he said.
âYou canât even stand.â
âI can,â he insistedâand promptly proved himself wrong by swaying straight back into you.
You caught him with a sigh.
âYeah,â you muttered. âVery convincing.â
---
Getting him to the car was⌠an experience.
He refused to let go of you the entire time.
Not even for a second.
âGeorge,â you laughed, trying to adjust your grip as you walked. âYou need to actually *walk*.â
âI am walking,â he mumbled, clinging to your side.
âYouâre leaning.â
âSame thing.â
âItâs really not.â
He just hummed in response, clearly deciding the conversation wasnât worth his energy.
By the time you reached the car, you were half-supporting, half-dragging him.
His friends waved you off, still laughing.
âGood luck!â one of them called.
âYouâre never hearing the end of this!â another added.
You shook your head, smiling despite everything.
---
Once you finally got him into the passenger seat, you turned to buckle him in.
Big mistake.
Because the second you leaned inâ
His hand caught your wrist.
âStay,â he murmured.
Your heart softened instantly.
âIâm just putting your seatbelt on,â you said gently.
âNo, like⌠stay,â he repeated, looking at you with that soft, slightly unfocused expression that somehow made everything feel more honest.
âI am staying,â you assured him. âIâm literally driving you home.â
He seemed to think about that.
Then nodded slowly.
âOkay.â
But he didnât let go straight away.
---
The drive was quiet.
Wellâquiet apart from the occasional mumble from him.
At one point, you glanced over to find him already looking at you.
âWhat?â you asked.
âYouâre pretty,â he said.
You nearly missed a turn.
âGeorgeââ
âI mean it,â he added, like it was the most important thing in the world.
You smiled, shaking your head slightly. âYouâre drunk.â
âAnd youâre pretty,â he repeated.
There was no arguing with that logic, apparently.
---
Getting him inside was somehow even harder than getting him into the car.
Because now he was tired.
And even more clingy.
The second you stepped through the door, he was back at your side, arms wrapping around you from behind this time, face pressing into your shoulder.
âDonât go,â he mumbled.
âIâm not going anywhere,â you said, laughing softly. âBut you need to let me move, or weâre both just going to stand here all night.â
âFine,â he said reluctantly.
He did not, in fact, let go.
---
Eventually, you managed to get him to sit down.
Barely.
The second he did, he pulled you with him, arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his head against you.
âYouâre warm,â he mumbled.
âSo are you,â you replied.
âStay here,â he said again, softer this time.
âI will,â you promised.
He relaxed almost instantly, his grip loosening slightlyâbut not completely.
Like even half-asleep, he still needed to make sure you were there.
And honestly?
You didnât mind.
Because even through the chaos, the clinginess, the complete lack of coordinationâŚ
It was still him.
Just softer.
And very, very attached to you.
Pub Golf Lovin'
George Clarkey x Reader

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
He so cuteee
bro this was quite literally the funniest thing Iâve ever seen in my life I was in tears with them
First Post, kinda nervous đ đ praying everyone likes it... feel free to give me requests, I am more than happy to write them. Hope you enjoy !!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You never expected your life to intertwine with someone like Harry Lewis. To you, he was just a voice behind a screen at firstâloud, sarcastic, and endlessly entertaining. Someone you watched on late nights when sleep wouldnât come easy. But somehow, through a mix of chance, mutual friends, and a bit of fate, he became someone sitting across from you in real life.
It started small.
A group hangout. Nothing special. You almost didnât go.
Harry had been quieter than you expected that night. Not the chaotic energy youâd seen in videos, but something more grounded. Observant. Heâd made a few jokes, sure, but mostly heâd been watchingâtaking people in, choosing when to speak instead of filling every silence.
You didnât talk much at first. Just a few passing comments, a shared laugh over something stupid. But when you did properly speak, it felt⌠easy.
âWait,â he said at one point, leaning forward slightly, âyou actually think that film was good?â
You shrugged, smiling. âIt wasnât bad.â
âIt was terrible,â he replied, but there was no bite to itâjust playful disbelief.
âYour taste is just questionable.â
He laughed then, properly this time. âAlright, weâre arguing about this another time.â
And somehow, you did.
---
The second time you met, it wasnât a group thing. Not exactly.
Youâd been invited out again, but most people cancelled last minute. It ended up just being you and him.
âGuess youâre stuck with me,â Harry said, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets as you stood outside the cafĂŠ.
âTragic,â you replied, trying not to smile too much.
But it wasnât tragic. Not even close.
You talked for hours.
About everythingâYouTube, yes, but also things you didnât expect. Music. Childhood memories. The weird pressure of growing up in completely different worlds. He told you about how strange it was having millions of people feel like they knew him.
âItâs weird,â he admitted, stirring his drink absentmindedly. âLike⌠they know a version of me. Just not all of it.â
You nodded. âThat sounds exhausting.â
âYeah,â he said quietly. âSometimes it is.â
There was a pause. Not awkwardâjust real.
âAnd you?â he asked. âWhatâs your thing?â
You hesitated, not used to being the one asked. But something about the way he looked at youâgenuinely interestedâmade it easier.
So you told him.
And he listened.
---
After that, it became a pattern.
Late-night messages.
Random memes.
âAre you awake?â texts that turned into conversations lasting until 3 a.m.
You started noticing the little things.
How heâd send you things that reminded him of you.
How heâd check in, even when he was busy.
How heâd call you out when you were overthinkingâbut gently, like he understood.
And then there were the moments in person.
Like the night you both ended up on a rooftop during another gathering, escaping the noise below. The city stretched out around you, lights flickering like stars that had fallen to earth.
âItâs quieter up here,â you said.
âYeah,â Harry replied, leaning on the railing. âBetter, innit?â
You nodded.
For a while, neither of you spoke.
Then, âYouâre different, you know,â he said suddenly.
You glanced at him. âDifferent how?â
He shrugged, but didnât look away this time. âYou donât treat me like⌠all this.â He gestured vaguely, as if referring to everythingâhis career, his online presence, the noise of it all.
âI mean,â you said softly, âyouâre still just you.â
He let out a small laugh. âMad concept.â
âI know. Revolutionary.â
That made him smileâone of those rare, genuine ones that didnât feel like it was meant for anyone else but the moment.
---
It wasnât a dramatic realization.
No sudden confession. No big, cinematic moment.
Just a quiet understanding that somewhere along the way, heâd become important to you.
And maybeâjust maybeâyou had become important to him too.
It showed in the way he looked for you in a room.
In the way his voice softened when he said your name.
In the way silence between you never felt empty.
---
One evening, as you sat side by side on his sofa, some random video playing in the background neither of you were really watching, he nudged you slightly.
âYou ever think about how weird this is?â he asked.
âWhat?â
âThis,â he said, gesturing between you. âUs.â
You tilted your head. âWeird good or weird bad?â
He thought for a moment.
âWeird good,â he decided. âDefinitely weird good.â
You smiled. âYeah. Iâd agree with that.â
Another pause.
Then, quieter this time, âIâm glad I met you.â
You looked at him, really looked at him.
âMe too, Harry.â
And for once, neither of you needed to say anything else.
First Post, kinda nervous đ đ praying everyone likes it... feel free to give me requests, I am more than happy to write them. Hope you enjoy !!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You never expected your life to intertwine with someone like Harry Lewis. To you, he was just a voice behind a screen at firstâloud, sarcastic, and endlessly entertaining. Someone you watched on late nights when sleep wouldnât come easy. But somehow, through a mix of chance, mutual friends, and a bit of fate, he became someone sitting across from you in real life.
It started small.
A group hangout. Nothing special. You almost didnât go.
Harry had been quieter than you expected that night. Not the chaotic energy youâd seen in videos, but something more grounded. Observant. Heâd made a few jokes, sure, but mostly heâd been watchingâtaking people in, choosing when to speak instead of filling every silence.
You didnât talk much at first. Just a few passing comments, a shared laugh over something stupid. But when you did properly speak, it felt⌠easy.
âWait,â he said at one point, leaning forward slightly, âyou actually think that film was good?â
You shrugged, smiling. âIt wasnât bad.â
âIt was terrible,â he replied, but there was no bite to itâjust playful disbelief.
âYour taste is just questionable.â
He laughed then, properly this time. âAlright, weâre arguing about this another time.â
And somehow, you did.
---
The second time you met, it wasnât a group thing. Not exactly.
Youâd been invited out again, but most people cancelled last minute. It ended up just being you and him.
âGuess youâre stuck with me,â Harry said, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets as you stood outside the cafĂŠ.
âTragic,â you replied, trying not to smile too much.
But it wasnât tragic. Not even close.
You talked for hours.
About everythingâYouTube, yes, but also things you didnât expect. Music. Childhood memories. The weird pressure of growing up in completely different worlds. He told you about how strange it was having millions of people feel like they knew him.
âItâs weird,â he admitted, stirring his drink absentmindedly. âLike⌠they know a version of me. Just not all of it.â
You nodded. âThat sounds exhausting.â
âYeah,â he said quietly. âSometimes it is.â
There was a pause. Not awkwardâjust real.
âAnd you?â he asked. âWhatâs your thing?â
You hesitated, not used to being the one asked. But something about the way he looked at youâgenuinely interestedâmade it easier.
So you told him.
And he listened.
---
After that, it became a pattern.
Late-night messages.
Random memes.
âAre you awake?â texts that turned into conversations lasting until 3 a.m.
You started noticing the little things.
How heâd send you things that reminded him of you.
How heâd check in, even when he was busy.
How heâd call you out when you were overthinkingâbut gently, like he understood.
And then there were the moments in person.
Like the night you both ended up on a rooftop during another gathering, escaping the noise below. The city stretched out around you, lights flickering like stars that had fallen to earth.
âItâs quieter up here,â you said.
âYeah,â Harry replied, leaning on the railing. âBetter, innit?â
You nodded.
For a while, neither of you spoke.
Then, âYouâre different, you know,â he said suddenly.
You glanced at him. âDifferent how?â
He shrugged, but didnât look away this time. âYou donât treat me like⌠all this.â He gestured vaguely, as if referring to everythingâhis career, his online presence, the noise of it all.
âI mean,â you said softly, âyouâre still just you.â
He let out a small laugh. âMad concept.â
âI know. Revolutionary.â
That made him smileâone of those rare, genuine ones that didnât feel like it was meant for anyone else but the moment.
---
It wasnât a dramatic realization.
No sudden confession. No big, cinematic moment.
Just a quiet understanding that somewhere along the way, heâd become important to you.
And maybeâjust maybeâyou had become important to him too.
It showed in the way he looked for you in a room.
In the way his voice softened when he said your name.
In the way silence between you never felt empty.
---
One evening, as you sat side by side on his sofa, some random video playing in the background neither of you were really watching, he nudged you slightly.
âYou ever think about how weird this is?â he asked.
âWhat?â
âThis,â he said, gesturing between you. âUs.â
You tilted your head. âWeird good or weird bad?â
He thought for a moment.
âWeird good,â he decided. âDefinitely weird good.â
You smiled. âYeah. Iâd agree with that.â
Another pause.
Then, quieter this time, âIâm glad I met you.â
You looked at him, really looked at him.
âMe too, Harry.â
And for once, neither of you needed to say anything else.