Seth and Summer in The OC
As TV romances go, it’s not the most original. A nerdy teen boy finally wins over the queen bee he’s loved since childhood, launching a four-season cycle of dramatic breakups and grand-gesture reunions. Yet through all the slightly ridiculous plots, their romance is anchored by that elusive on-screen magic: genuine, palpable chemistry. There’s the sarcastic banter, the physical spark (who could forget that Spiderman kiss?), but also a deep care and real friendship—one that helps both characters grow into promising young adults by the end. Watching them navigate insecurities, battle identity crises, and make spectacularly poor choices lets us all feel better about the emotional chaos of our own teenage years. And the fact that they keep choosing each other speaks to that part of our teen selves that longed to find someone who might jump on a coffee cart to declare their love—or at least wait all summer while we campaigned to save sea otters.
Mae and George in Feel Good
How do I love Mae and George? Let me count the ways. I love that they’re one of sitcom’s classic odd couples—so wrong in practice, so right at the soul level. I love that Mae’s name is saved in George’s phone as “Corn,” because her hair is like a head of corn. I love how, in a genre often lacking hilarious and tender portrayals of queer love, they’re so silly, horny, sweet, intense, traumatized, awful, and adorable—in short, so real.
I love that they’re kissing within the first 10 minutes of the first episode of Mae Martin’s exquisite semi-autobiographical show. I love that, 12 brilliant and increasingly profound episodes later, Mae has begun transitioning, faced her past, and dodged the bullet of going mainstream as a comedian—and that our lovers are still together. And I love how it all ends outside a log cabin overlooking a Canadian lake, the two of them under a tartan blanket, dreaming of becoming ice fishermen in Norway and discussing the chemical process of photosynthesis. It is pure romance.
Sun and Jin in Lost
Sun and Jin’s love still has the power to make me weep in public, usually when I’m listening to Lost’s emotional score. I couldn’t have predicted it: Jin is controlling of his wife when they first crash on the island; Sun doesn’t even want him to know she speaks English. But flashbacks reveal their complicated history—a tangle of honor, tradition, and pride—and Jin slowly becomes the husband Sun deserves, just in time for the arrival of their baby.
It was groundbreaking at the time: Daniel Dae Kim spoke of his pride in playing Jin, because “stereotypes or tropes were overturned by great writing and an exploration of humanity, rather than relying on cliché and caricature.” It was also one of the first romantic kisses on mainstream US television between two Asian characters. And what kisses! Their old Hollywood-style smooch on the beach, after an entire season spent yearning, is one for the ages. But, alas, many great love stories end in tragedy.
When Sun is trapped on a sinking submarine, Jin reminds her in Korean that he promised never to leave her again. After their goodbye “I love you”—unforgivably, from the writers, in English—they clasp hands and let the water take them. I sobbed for a whole weekend after seeing them together again in the finale. They weren’t a perfect love, but I felt it in my bones. I still do.
Dawn and Tim in The OfficeSecret admirer … Martin Freeman as Tim and Lucy Davis as Dawn in The Office. Photograph: Youtube
It’s a set of paints that seals the deal. Bored receptionist Dawn Tinsley (Lucy Davis) and sarcastic-but-sensitive sales rep Tim Canterbury (Martin Freeman) are the heart and soul of the Wernham Hogg mockumentary. For two series, they’re unrequited soulmates, rolling their eyes at boss David Brent and winding up colleague Gareth Keenan. Yet their relationship, like most workplace crushes, remains one of unspoken longing. After all, Dawn has a fiancé: boorish, controlling Lee from the warehouse, who proposed via the personal ads. As Dawn explains: “He had to pay by the word, so it just said ‘Lee luv Dawn. Marriage?’ It’s not often you get something that’s both romantic and thrifty.”
Following several agonising near-misses, their moment comes in the Christmas finale. After Lee belittles her dream of becoming an illustrator, Dawn tearfully unwraps her Secret Santa gift in the taxi home. She finds a set of oil paints, a sketch she’d drawn of Tim and a note saying “Never give up.” Deeply touched, Dawn breaks off the engagement, hurries back to the office party and kisses Tim. As DJ Keith played Yazoo’s Only You, the nation punched the air and wiped away a tear. Not the most epic love story, perhaps, but the most relatable. Michael Hogan
Bill and Frank in The Last of Us
Off grid … Murray Bartlett as Frank and Nick Offerman as Bill in The Last of Us. Photograph: Warner Media/HBO
The Last of Us is often unrelentingly brutal. Based on the post-apocalyptic video game of the same name, it shows a collapsed society ravaged by a mysterious fungal infection that turns its victims into bulbous, zombie-like creatures. As you can imagine, romance is often low on the list of priorities, and while there’s a lot of grunting and spilling of bodily fluids, it’s very much not of the loving kind. Which makes season one’s third episode, Long, Long Time, all the more beautiful. Via flashback, we meet misanthropic survivalist Bill (Nick Offerman), whose life is softened after he encounters the more extroverted Frank (Murray Bartlett). Their idyllic domestic life – growing fruit, drinking fine wines, painting – is a haven from all the horror, and as they grow older together their love becomes as strong as their home’s defensive fortifications. “I was never afraid before you showed up,” Bill says at one point, capturing his joy at his new life and the overwhelming fear of losing it all. As Frank’s body is slowly ravaged not by the fungus but by mundane human illness, the pair choose to end their lives together, in a house that has been transformed into a home. It’s a true example of, as Rihanna once put it, finding love in a hopeless place. Michael Cragg
Fleabag and the Hot Priest
‘His beautiful neck’ … Phoebe Waller-Bridge and Andrew Scott in Fleabag. Photograph: BBC
Everyone knows that tragic romances doomed to fail make the best on-screen love stories. And there’s no greater tragic romance than the one between Fleabag and the priest. Their relationship develops over flirty chats, cheeky beers and a mutual adoration for Winnie the Pooh – but there’s no happy ever after here.
They meet during a phase where Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Fleabag is trying to turn over a new leaf, away from her former self-destructive behaviour and grief over the loss of her best friend towards a calmer way of living. She lusts over him (“His beautiful neck!”) and kneels down at his command during a sexually-charged confession. Their chemistry is white-hot; it scorches the screen.
Sadly, their romance is short-lived, although a long-term relationship was never the point, not really. For once Fleabag, so used to distracting herself with sex or jokes, allows herself to be vulnerable. The priest is the only person in Fleabag’s liShe notices when she withdraws into herself and talks to us, the audience, breaking the fourth wall. And isn’t that what we all want, really? To be seen and accepted for who we are?
Ann Lee
Charles, Sebastian and Julia in Brideshead Revisited
ITV’s languid 1981 adaptation of Evelyn Waugh’s hymn to “the splendours of the recent past” remains one of television’s most sumptuous heartbreakers. Charles Ryder’s (Jeremy Irons) doomed infatuation with the exquisitely unhappy Flyte siblings gives viewers a love story as much about Catholicism and self-sacrifice as it is about romance. Poor, hopeless Charles. Poor, hopeless Sebastian (Anthony Andrews) and poor, hopeless Julia (Diana Quick). Watching this trio cling to their faith while their hopes and youth circle the drain was enough to make this lapsed Catholic, for one, weep like a fool.
Sarah Dempster
Hal and Kate Wyler in The Diplomat
Almost all political dramas sell a fantasy, and The Diplomat is no different. It imagines a world where politics is driven not by money, but by emotional intelligence. Relations between Britain and America depend on someone sensing what another is thinking and feeling, then communicating with them on their level. Kate Wyler (Keri Russell), the US ambassador to the UK, is better at that than anyone—except for her on-again, off-again, semi-estranged husband, Hal (Rufus Sewell), who is both the love and bane of her life.
Theirs is not a romance you’d necessarily want for yourself, built as much on stimulating rivalry as affection. Kate and Hal have each found the only person who can keep up with them and the only one who truly knows them. The ongoing storyline, where either could outdo the other by becoming vice-president, adds a spicy metaphor for spouses not realizing how shared their ambitions are, or how much their partner is also in it for themselves. Yet all this only makes it more affecting when their love for each other occasionally breaks through. In the most recent season, they were supposed to be finally divorced and were busy dealing with a global crisis, yet they kept giving in to tender, almost telepathic moments they could never have with anyone else. Let’s hope they keep driving each other to distraction forever.
Jack Seale
David and Patrick in Schitt’s Creek
Many of us have been reminded recently of how much we loved the Canadian sitcom Schitt’s Creek, following the death of the great Catherine O’Hara. The eccentric, faded actor Moira Rose, whom O’Hara brought to life so hilariously, is reason enough to watch. But the show also contains a moving love story.
When we first meet Moira’s son, David (Daniel Levy), he is single and refreshingly confident in his sexuality—navigating a one-night stand with his best friend and describing his pansexuality with the memorable phrase: “I like the wine and not the label.” In season three, he meets Patrick (Noah Reid), who, though less confident in his queerness, is more stable in nearly every other way. The pair balance each other out, offering support, joy, and unique renditions of Tina Turner’s “The Best.”
Patrick “sees you for all that you are,” Moira tells David in a rare moment of earnestness. Again and again, we watch Patrick accepting and loving every part of David—his dramatic nature, his anxiety, even his bed-wetting—while also standing up to him when they disagree. Queer relationships have too often been depicted on screen as difficult and sad.Time and again, this sweet, honest—and often very funny—romance proves to be the perfect antidote.
Given that Frasier was a masterclass in shifting from belly laughs to heart-melting pathos, it’s no surprise that it created what might be the best sitcom romance of all time. From their first meeting—with Daphne folding her employer’s laundry and Niles awestruck by her beauty despite his brother’s underwear in the mix—it’s a joy to watch. What begins as a rich vein of comically unrequited love (“What’s that perfume you’re wearing?” “It’s Obsession.” “No, no it isn’t—I was just asking!”) slowly blossoms into something deeper, filled with scenes thick with unspoken words and Niles’s heartbreakingly poignant longing.
Their romance includes comically erotic tango dancing, Niles smearing himself in pâté to seem good with dogs, and eventually Daphne realizing that her dream man might have been right there in her life all along. Finally, after half a decade of yearning, they share a kiss—born partly from longing, and partly from Daphne’s desire to stop Niles from prattling on about the scent of flowers.
Arguably, after they elope in a Winnebago, their relationship never quite reaches the same emotional heights again (perhaps unsurprising, since Frasier itself declined in later years). But for seven seasons, they had viewers laughing, crying, and asking the ultimate TV romance question: How many times can one character smell another’s hair before it gets creepy? Beautiful stuff.
In the final episode of This Is England ’90, the long-standing couple Woody and Lol finally tie the knot. Is their wedding a blissful, idyllic affair? Not exactly. One of their best friends—with whom Lol had a brief fling—is suspected of being an accessory to a friend’s recent murder, and the bride’s sister, a estranged heroin user, is mostly absent from the celebrations. Yet this barely concealed trauma only highlights the depth of Woody and Lol’s love. At the heart of a wildly dysfunctional friend group, they are a source of stillness. Their relationship doesn’t just hold them together as individuals—it maintains the precarious balance of the whole group. As a result, their wedding feels like one of the most righteously earned happy endings in TV history.
From the pilot episode, Scrubs treats the friendship between neurotic protagonist JD and confident surgeon Turk with the narrative weight sitcoms usually reserve for romantic relationships. They get jealous when the other makes new friends. When JD prioritizes his crush on fellow doctor Elliot, Turk feels betrayed; soon enough, the tables turn as Turk starts dating nurse Carla and has less time for beers with his best bud. In the third episode, “My Best Friend’s Mistake,” JD even says he feels “like the girl” when Turk won’t talk about his feelings. The show is refreshingly honest: platonic love requires the same care, communication, and commitment as romantic love—sometimes even more.
The genius of Scrubs is that it never plays this for irony. When they call each other “Chocolate Bear” and “Vanilla Bear,”When JD admits “I love you” in the supply closet, it isn’t a joke at their expense. The punchline is the world’s discomfort with straight male vulnerability, not the vulnerability itself. Most TV bromances from that era were built on emotional constipation and “no-homo” avoidance of compromising situations—think Ross and Joey falling asleep together in Friends. Scrubs simply asks: what if two straight men actually loved each other?
Angie and Will in Will Trent
The relationship between crime-solving oddball Will Trent and his childhood friend Angie Polaski is more than just a classic “will they or won’t they.” It’s a touching portrayal of how past trauma shapes our everyday lives. The pair first met in a foster care home and now fight crime together in Atlanta, Georgia. While trauma often brings to mind adults tortured by the past—screaming and self-destructive—and yes, there is some of that here, crucially, this relationship doesn’t feel toxic, just complicated. Narratively rich and surprisingly light at times, the two rescue each other both professionally and emotionally. Angie and Will understand each other in a deep way no one else can match. Whether they should be together remains unclear, but as a counter to the trope that loving someone who is hurt will only lead to suffering, they make for compelling viewing.
Chidi and Eleanor in The Good Place
In The Good Place, a 2010s philosophical comedy about the afterlife, protagonists Eleanor and Chidi couldn’t be more different. Chidi is a neurotic ethics professor, while Eleanor is an amoral salesperson for a sham company. They butt heads, later discovering they’ve been placed together in the afterlife as a form of torture. This makes their romance all the more beautiful when it arrives at the end of season two. They’re no match made in heaven—quite the opposite—but ultimately, they balance each other out and teach one another how to be better people. Chidi relaxes, and Eleanor studies moral philosophy and becomes gentler. We later discover, in a kind of multiverse plot twist, that they have chosen each other in almost every timeline. Sometimes the person you need most is the one who pushes you to grow.
Angela and Jordan in My So-Called Life
If my obsession with Heated Rivalry has taught me anything, it’s that I am all about the yearning. No one has ever yearned harder than Angela Chase for Jordan Catalano as he rests his head against a wall in a crowded school corridor in My So-Called Life. Think of it as the lean that launched a million fantasies. Watching the awkward girl with Crimson Glow hair and a fine line in plaid shirts obsess over the blue-eyed, soft-haired, choker-wearing, decidedly un-teenage-looking student was a romantic milestone of mine. (Hear me out—I was 11.) Yes, she gets the guy—air punches from awkward girls everywhere—and yes, there are major issues: he tries to keep them a secret from his jock pals, and he sleeps with her best friend Rayanne. It isn’t your quintessential romance. But the moment he stops leaning against that locker, strides up to her, and takes her hand in full view of everyone, something altered deep within me. A lifelong love of yearning was unleashed. Long may it continue.Please see our terms of service and privacy policy.
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Frequently Asked Questions
Of course Here is a list of FAQs about It sparked a million daydreams the greatest TV romances of all time designed to cover a range of questions from basic to more detailed
General Beginner Questions
1 What makes a TV romance the greatest of all time
Its a combination of chemistry storytelling cultural impact and how much the relationship makes the audience feel A great TV romance feels authentic changes the characters and becomes iconicoften defining the show itself
2 Are these lists just about couples who end up together
Not at all Some of the most impactful TV romances are tragic unrequited or end in breakup The focus is on the emotional journey and the mark the relationship left on viewers not just a happily ever after
3 Why do people care so much about fictional TV couples
Great TV romances allow us to experience the highs and lows of love from a safe distance They provide wishfulfillment teach us about relationships and create shared cultural moments and conversations with friends
4 Where can I find these greatest of all time lists
They are commonly published by entertainment magazines websites and streaming services especially around Valentines Day or anniversaries of classic shows
Specifics Examples
5 Which shows almost always appear on these lists
Classic picks include Pride and Prejudice Friends The Office Outlander Cheers and Buffy the Vampire Slayer
6 Do any LGBTQ couples make these lists
Absolutely Modern lists increasingly highlight iconic couples like David and Patrick from Schitts Creek Santana and Brittany from Glee Omar and Ander from Elite or Villanelle and Eve from Killing Eve for their complexity and impact
7 What about slowburn romances Any famous examples
Slowburn is a beloved category Key examples are
