louistomlinsonslover

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You know I can’t - George Clarkey

words : 1.0k +

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

George had convinced himself that this time would be different.

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

For a while, it worked.

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

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

But then his phone buzzed.

"Miss you."

Two words. That was all it took.

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

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

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

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

George’s throat went dry. “What?”

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

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

Because they both knew she was right.

Twenty minutes later, he was standing outside your door.

Again.

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

But he knocked anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

His breath hitched.

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

And you both knew the answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hesitated.

And for the first time, you looked uncertain.

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

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

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

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

The silence that followed was deafening.

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Looked away.

And that was his answer.

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

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

"I don’t… not love you."

It was the cruelest thing you could have said.

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

And hope was the most dangerous thing of all.

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

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

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

And just like always, he stayed.

Checked in - George Clarkey

words : 1.0 k +

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

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

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

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

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

The boys erupted into cheers and mock applause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The teasing was instant.

“WHIPPED!” Harry declared dramatically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then, he took it a step further.

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

Your heart nearly burst.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then came the forfeits.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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