I'll be closing my requests for now so I can keep up with the ones I got! After that they'll be open again :> Thank you for all the love that's been shown to what I have put out <33
Content: Use of Marijuana / Slightly Perv!George if you wanna see it that way / Suggestiveness / Touching
Summary: ModernAU! You invite George over to get high and play Dark Souls. He gets a bit distracted
Words: ca. 4300
Authors Note: This idea came to me in a dream and definitely not while I was stoned playing this game and wishing I had this cutie next to me. This is probably my favorite thing I've written so far. All the things I love in one lol hope this isn't niche and there are some gamers around in the beatles fandom c.c
A cautious but amused hum passed George’s lips before his tongue darted out to wet the rolling paper of another joint.
He reached for the lighter on the table in front of him, his eyes never leaving your kneeling figure as you were plugging in a few cables.
George didn’t play videogames. Not just because he didn’t have time for it, what with being part of a popular band and such, he also just didn’t see the appeal.
That is until he met you, at least.
Technically speaking, the two of you were strictly friends and yet George never complained when your knee would occasionally bump into his when you leaned forward to concentrate better on whatever it is you were playing.
You had introduced him to the classics, ranging from Super Smash Bros. (which he was unbelievably bad at) all the way through the Resident Evil series and while his attention was drawn more towards the profile of your face, shamelessly studying the slope of your nose and the way your brows would furrow when you’d become frustrated at something - his ears did perk up when you had asked him to bring some weed with him when he came over today.
“And you said that this game is notoriously hard?” He asked, leisurely puffing out smoke, waiting for you to join him on the couch.
“Yup, which is why you’ll be playing too!” He bit the inside of his cheek at how adorable your smile was when you turned towards him.
“You want me to play?” You may as well have proposed for him to juggle on a unicycle.
George felt the couch dip beside him as you sat down, controller in hand.
It took you a second to notice that he had already started smoking one of the joints he had prepared.
“Hey!” you exclaimed, snatching it from his fingers just as he brought it up to his lips again.
“Hey yourself!” If it were anyone else he would have been mad, but you? God no, the only response his body had to whatever you did was a sheepish grin and a hot blush.
“Trust me, you’ll get really high soon enough.” You said as you put out the joint for now. There was no rush for anything tonight and George didn’t protest. After all he wouldn’t mind an excuse to have to stay the night, even if it was just on your couch.
He watched as you created a character. On the question of why you’d chosen a male character you only giggled.
After creating a rather hideous knight and watching the opening cutscenes (which George pretended to fully understand), the game opened up in the Undead Asylum and when George noticed that you didn’t steer the character, he cast his eyes down to see you handing him the controller. He looked at you as if you were crazy.
“Pfff, I can't play this, are you kidding?” He said but took it from your hands anyway, fingers brushing yours for just a second.
“You’ll figure it out, you’re a smart boy.” That sent a chill down his spine. Your attention was focused on the TV, unaware of the effect those words had on him.
George went quiet as he started to play, really concentrating on finding the buttons on the controller, which made you giggle. He blushed a bright pink when he saw you from the corner of his eye watching him turn the controller around to see what the hell was meant by “L3”.
“I reckon they made a mistake of some sort.” He mumbled, another smile creeping up onto his lips at your attention.
Suddenly, you stretched your arm over his lap, right hand laying over his, thumb right where his was on the joystick.
He prayed that you didn’t hear this breath hitch at the contact.
‘She’s teaching you how to play, she’s just teaching you the game’ He kept repeating in his head. He cursed himself for his hands becoming sweaty already.
Very carefully you pressed his thumb down until you heard the light “click” of the rumored L3 button.
“Well, who’s supposed to figure that out.” He huffed, feigning annoyance. Embarrassingly enough, his little finger twitched when you removed your soft hand from around his, chasing the feeling of your skin on his.
And you just giggled again. As if your touch hadn’t already clouded his mind like no drug ever could.
“Oh, light that!” you said, pointing toward the first bonfire. “So when do we get to the hard part?” he said, a smug grin on his face as you both watched the character push open the doors to the main hall.
Perhaps he was a bit too distracted by how you bit your lip in what seemed like anticipation but the sudden surge of orchestral music paired with a gigantic health bar appearing at the bottom of the screen had his brain short circuit and he pressed nearly every button but the one for dodging when the Asylum Demon came crashing down on him.
“For fuck’s sake! What am I s’pposed to do?” You let out the laugh that you knew you’d get the moment he felt confident enough to talk shit. There was an actual lilt of panic in his usual deadpan voice, it was quite adorable.
“Ew that thing is fuckin’ disgusting!” George exclaimed, voice still cracking with fear as he tried his best to run away from the boss.
“Hit it you goof”
“Did you just call me a goof?” He said perplexed, head turning toward you for a split second just as the Asylum Demon lifted its giant club above the hideous’ knight’s head.
“Circle! Dodge!” you said chuckling but actually tensing up at the way he was playing.
To your surprise, his fingers found the one button he hadn’t pressed and -
he rolled right into the attack.
“Jesus!” He exhaled, scuffing at the “You Are Dead” message appearing in the center of the screen.
You held a joint up to his face. “Congrats, you got Dark Souls’d” you said with a giggle.
He took a hold of it and reached for the lighter once more. Taking a drag now with your official permission.
“So whenever we die, we smoke?” He asked, one arm stretching over the back of the couch. A few centimetres away from your shoulders and soft neck, he thought.
He had quite the tolerance for weed at this point and yet he surprised himself with a cough and the subsequent warmth that spread throughout his body.
“Correct, now let me show you how a pro does it.” And then you winked at him - George felt his heart trip and face plant within his chest.
“A pro..” he rolled his eyes in a playful manner and put the joint next to the ashtray on the couch table.
He watched you confidently run back into the boss room, a self satisfied smile starting to creep up on his face. There was no way you were going to get this guy on the first try. You had a broken sword to start with for god’s sake! Not to mention the slight excitement he felt at you getting high next to him upon your death.
Sure, the both of you had smoked weed together several times now but this felt strangely intimate. Usually the other guys were around somewhere or one of your friends.
He gulped at the realization.
“Wait, what are you doing?” You had run to the far left side of the arena, hugging the wall until you rolled through an opening that he hadn’t even seen on his try.
His mouth went agape slightly when the door closed behind you and you couldn't help but laugh as you were now back to killing the low level hollows around the area.
“That’s jus’ unfair!” He spoke up,unable to contain the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards..
“I’ve played this a couple of times before so don’t worry.”
You now had a shield and a proper sword and the two of you were listening to an NPC’s dialogue.
George was a lot more invested than he initially thought. He almost didn’t notice you grabbing the joint from the table.
“Ah, Ah!” Just before you could place it between your lips, it was snatched from you.
“You didn’t die.” George stated matter of factly before lighting it and taking another puff himself, earning a small chuckle from you. “You didn’t either.”
“Yeah cause you’re hogging the controller!” “Can’t help that you died at the tutorial boss.”
“Okay, we got Estus flasks.” George hummed at that- he had no idea what you were talking about.
“That means we can heal ourselves now.” “I know.”
After defeating another handful of low level enemies, you extended the hand holding the controller back to the boy next to you.
“Just go through that fog.” He raised an eyebrow at you.
“Listen, I may not know these games but this seems like a fight or something.” He grumbled, nevertheless taking the controller from your hands, running the character in circles for a bit.
“It’s the same one from before, just go in, you can do it!” George tensed up when he felt a supportive hand resting on top of his knee. His mind seemed to spiral at the contact.
Damn, George thought and blinked. Did Ringo know this stuff was a lot stronger than usual?
The brunette pressed the corresponding button and the character traversed through the wall of white light, orchestral music surging once again. This time around it completely encompassed George, he bit the inside of his cheek. If he didn’t want to take another puff he had to defeat this gigantic thing.
He steered the character off the balcony, pressing r1 and then his eyes widened as he watched the knight plunge his newly acquired sword into the thick hide of the beast.
“Look at that damage!” You exclaimed gleefully.
The character got thrown off, passing the control back to George who was now helplessly rolling around the monster.
How could you be so chill playing when it was this scary to be in combat??
You screwed your eyes shut at a particular heavy handed swing that sent the character flying backwards:
“Ouuughhhhhhh”
A deep and erotic moan teared through the speakers.
You burst out laughing, George had a look of pure bewilderment on his face, suppressing a cackle as he tried his best to dodge the following attacks.
“What the fuck was that?” He asked, giggling at the sound echoing in his head.
“That’s why I chose the male character, it’s the best part of the game.” You explained, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “For some reason the sound he makes when getting hit is just this deep sensual moan.”
And then George got hit again:
“Ahhhuggggg”
George gave you a side-eye and you both doubled over in laughter, George screaming halfway through as he was almost dealt a death blow. His panic only adding to your amusement.
“You gotta get behind him, that’s the safest spot.” You told him between breathless laughter. “But heal first, press square.”
He followed your instructions the best he could, the high making his fingers move on autopilot. He surprised himself, he was quite good at taking directions when stoned.
George steered the knight between the legs of the Asylum Demon, emerging at his backside and pressing the attack button with newfound fervour. He grimaced at the visual.
“Who modeled this?” He asked, the screen overtaken by Demon cheeks.
He kept spamming the r1 and r2 and then suddenly, the last swing hit nothing as the beast faded into mere particles, a giant message appearing in the middle:
{VICTORY ACHIEVED}
His eyes widened, mouth agape as he turned his head to you.
“Did I- fuck, did I actually win the game?” George asked and you couldn’t help but giggle at how endearing he looked thinking this was it. Not to mention how cute his eyes looked all glazed over and slightly reddened.
“This is like the first game I was ever good at!” He kept going, real proud of himself.
He let you take the controller from his lap, not paying attention to the game at all. Instead he went for a second joint and lit it. “This is celebratory, alright?” He said, leisurely puffing out smoke.
Oh this poor boy
You pressed your lips into a thin line, trying to suppress the grin forming at his cockiness.
As you ascended uphill to a bird's nest, George’s attention slightly drifted back to the game.
“What's this about now?” “I wouldn’t take that many hits if I were you.” You said, too ominously for George’s taste. Cautiously he returned the joint from his fingers and let it lean against the ashtray.
A cutscene began playing. You watched the brunette out of your peripheral vision, he was completely absorbed into the visuals, brows furrowing together at the giant bird picking up your shared character.
The short movie ended as the knight was dropped off in an unfamiliar area. Giant text appearing. George read it out loud: “Firelink Shrine? What?” He turned to you and it took everything not too audibly ‘awww’ at his expression.
“Remeber how I told you this was the tutorial boss?”
George just stared at you and then back at the screen for a few heartbeats before his head dropped to the back of the couch, covering his face with his hands as he let out a guttural groan at the realization.
You laughed and lightly pat his shoulder for comfort. “Don’t worry I’ll play for a bit.” He just hummed defeated.
His disappointment soon yielded to fascination at the intricate level design of blight town and to your explanations of certain lore aspects.
He never expected a video game to be this interesting to him. His eyes drifted to you occasionally as you told him about some NPC you’d encounter later - or perhaps it was you that made this entire experience so interesting and enjoyable.
—
“Should I attack him?” George said, a mischievous grin on his face, showing his teeth in a way that had your eyes glued to them.
You had made the decision to not prank George with the Taurus Demon, instead defeating it yourself and earning adorable applause from the boy when you first try’d the monster. After that you had passed the controller back over to him and told him to speak to Solaire, who was looking out onto the shining sun.
“NO!” You exclaimed before he could even think about pressing the attack button toward Solaire. “You cannot attack him ever, I’ll strangle you.”
His mouth was faster than his brain. He had no idea what compelled him to say what it is he said. “Well, maybe I’d like that.”
He went completely rigid. Frozen in place, almost paralyzed. Was the tone with which he said it too low? Could it still be counted as a silly joke?
Out of the peripheral vision he could see you side eyeing him, his throat went dry. You’d throw him out for that comment, there was no question about it.
‘Come on, de-escalate for god’s sake!’ a voice in his head screamed with urgency. Blushing all the way down his collar, he scrambled to find any words that could fix whatever he had ridden himself into.
“Well, maybe not strangle per se.” He muttered, his scouse accent stumbling over the word 'strangle' specifically. Eyes fixed on the subtitles of the NPC but not picking up any of the audio.
You kept silent but he could feel your eyes burning into the profile of his face.
“Jus', y’know.” Oh god, he had no idea where that sentence would end up.
His mind felt fuzzy. The familiar feeling of the high, paired with way too much attraction toward you and now an overbearing amount of embarrassment at any of the words leaving his mouth and how you could perceive him, had his hands cramping around the controller.
“No one would mind a pretty birds hands on their neck is all.”
‘Oh my god. Oh my god. Stop talking, just shut up, shut up’
An overwhelming feeling of needing to disappear into a hole in the ground overcame him. He would scold Ringo for not telling him that this stuff definitely wasn’t the same that he had given him the last few times.
All the while George found himself unable to function verbally, he also noticed that he had already exhausted Solaire’s dialogue and was now listening to the same line for the third time.
The sound of your giggle ripped him right out of one reality into another, blush only deepening, ears flaming underneath his hair.
“You’ve really cute canines, you know, like a vampire.”
A strangled whine and nervous chuckle escaped him and as he steered the character across the bridge he was unable to process the large dragon engulfing him in flames and killing him instantly.
“My turn!” You said excitedly, your hands outstretched expectantly.
He finally looked at you again, eyes meeting yours in a way that almost made him wince.
George scrambled to wipe the controller on his pants so you wouldn’t have to actually feel his desperation with which he had held onto it.
You didn’t say anything else about what just happened and he released a shaky breath before taking another hit of the joint. He had died after all.
He couldn’t think so straight anymore, thoughts and eyes kept drifting to you. He cracked a smile at your horrible posture which resembled more of a shrimp than anything else. He noticed that your eyes were quite glossy and red. You must have taken a couple of pity-hits when he wasn’t looking so you were both flying relatively high.
It was considerate, at least that’s what he’d like to think.
His eyes slowly crept down, this throat went dry when he looked at your bare thighs. You’d been in shorts the entire time and before he made it a point not to look but the weed in his system had him caring less and less. How could he not look at that soft plush of your legs, squished across the couch, doubling in their original size. Absent-mindedly he licked his lips.
‘Fuck’ he just thought with an internal slap to his face.
Meanwhile you were in what you’d call “The Zone”. Expertly dodging an armored boar as if it were nothing. If his mind wasn’t occupied by other things he would have applauded you.
George tried to concentrate on the screen and yet his gaze kept flickering back to your legs. If you’d only let him, he thought.
If you’d only let him he’d have those soft thighs shaking around his head, trapping him there and he would have no reason to complain about anything ever again.
“Sorry, you wanna have another go?” Your soft voice felt like a pair of hands pulling him out of the deep end of a pool. Shit, he didn’t mean to stare so obviously.
“Oh no it’s fine I-” “No it’s alright, wait I think I should teach you a bit more.”
Oh please do - George bit his lips at the thoughts threatening to accidentally spill, face heating up in an instant. He watched you rise from the couch, his eyes kept darting down to your legs.
Fuck.. her thighs.. Your shorts had ridden up so much, George wanted to punch himself in the head.
“Scoot back a bit.” You suddenly commanded him. And of course he listened with a gulp, back straightening against the rest of the couch.
Wait, what is she doing? Wait!
George went slack-jawed when you turned yourself around and sat down between his spread legs. Was there steam coming out of his ears? His entire body was heating up. If he leant forward just a tad bit your back would be flush against his chest. Not to mention the fact that he wasn’t a fan (truthfully he couldn’t have been a bigger fan) of how close your butt was to his crotch now.
“I think this is easier to teach you the controls, just reach around.”
Trembling hands lifted themselves around you, careful not to graze your arms or any body part of you for that matter.
If anything, this had to be the most definite evidence that he was way too stoned already because this had to be a dream.
He flinched when his hands brushed yours on the controller, his nervous system felt so overloaded now that his legs involuntarily twitched, slightly pressing against your bare thighs between him.
He swallowed a groan.
“Alright” You began, letting go of the controller and putting it into his hands. Individually placing each finger where it needed to go.
Safe to say that George was dying behind you.
He had no idea where the hell he was when it came to the game. Somewhere in a temple of some sort, that was all he could make out before his attention was drawn back to the sweet girl in front of him.
Sitting so close between his legs that he could smell the shampoo that she used on her hair this morning.
He tensed up, he shouldn’t have thought about that. He felt his pants tightening ever so slightly.
This is bad, fuck, fuck, FUCK - he drew in a sharp breath.
George was glad you couldn’t see his face right about now.
He had no idea how he managed to even play in these circumstances. You had told him to activate some elevator. He made it a point to turn the character’s face away from the screen as he was going down - that character creator really had given you a lot of options to make the most unerotic face George ever did see. But then again, wouldn’t that be precisely what he should look at now? Pull him out of whatever spell you had put him under?
“Can you even see from behind me?” You said after a while, turning around ever so slightly to look at him. George hoped he looked at least mildly composed.
“you know..” you trailed off for a second, head turning back to the screen.
Perhaps it was only his imagination but were you blushing?
“You can rest your head here too, so you can see better and stuff..” The brunettes throat went completely dry when you slightly tilted your head to the side, allowing him to comfortably rest on your shoulder. But George’s eyes were glued to your beautiful and slender neck. It looked so inviting… he could just press his lips to that sweet spot over and over again if you wanted him to.
Without thinking, George shifted and leant forward. The hairs on his neck stood up when his chest pressed against your back, his chin falling to your shoulder. He involuntarily breathed in more of your scent and his eyes embarrassingly fluttered shut for a second.
He prayed that you couldn’t feel his erection practically pressing into your lower back.
Fuck it.
George relaxed fully into you now. His arms comfortably hugging your figure as he held the controller. He was completely encompassing your smaller frame now, soaking up your body heat and revelling in the feeling of being so close to the girl that had him clenching his teeth whenever he saw her hugging one of his band mates for just a bit too long than George felt was necessary.
He kept playing for a while, just running around and defeating enemies with no clear direction on where to go. You had grown considerably more quiet…
“Are you okay?” He mumbled quietly. There was no need to speak any louder, his mouth right next to your ear anyway. George felt you growing slightly stiff - did he make you uncomfortable? Immediately he wanted to remove himself from you, apologize profusely but then there was a warm hand resting just above his knee, softly and lightly caressing the skin though the fabric.
George’s breath hitched. Almost instinctively he tightened his embrace around you, one of his legs lightly pressing against your bare one.
“m’ fine.” was all that you muttered before deliberately leaning back into him, slumping down slightly so he had to remove his chin from that comfortable rest of your shoulder. He looked down at you with slightly widened eyes, meeting your gaze.
Your pupils were so dilated, eyes glossy and red as you stared up at him. He wanted to laugh at how adorable he thought you looked, if it weren’t for the stirring in his pants.
And he knew you had noticed.
George’s eyes darted back to the screen momentarily. His breathing faltered when one of your hands came up to hold his face. “Should we take a brea-mhmn..”
And then you pulled him into a kiss.
George’s mind went blank. There was nothing except for the feeling of you.
The kiss was quick, both of your lips dry from the drug and yet so impossibly soft against each other.
When you separated you two just stared at each other. Both eyes widened in slight shock, blushing profusely. You looked like you just realized what you did - like you just figured something out on accident.
“Uh.. so what about the game?” He stammered, he was completely enchanted by you, in a beautiful trance that he never wanted to wake up from.
“Forget it.” You whispered and pulled him back into you.
The controller dropped to the ground, George’s hands wandering up - one hot on your bare thigh and the other splayed across your stomach, keeping you squeezed against him. His hips absent mindedly grinding against you as he felt you deepen the kiss.
God you were just melting into him…
He sighed into the kiss and felt a reserved smile on your lips as you softly held his face, thumb stroking his cheek, grazing over the light stubble there.
Safe to say that George would play any game with you if it always ended like this.
not because he didn't want to come home, of course not, but because of how tired he became.
the second the final night ended, his shoulders would sag with sleepiness, his head would pound and his back would ache like he was a 60 year old man rather than in his twenties.
he hated the screaming, and the airports and the long, tediousness of it all. it made him feel all icky and as if his body was collapsing on itself.
but more than anything, he hated being away from his baby. and you, of course.
at every free moment, he would flick to the photo in his wallet, a little snap of the three of you; his wife, his baby girl and him. he'd drag his thumb over it, as if he could reach out and feel the plush, soft warmth of her skin, smell her sleepy scent, listen to her giggle. she giggled at anything, and he'd pay inordinate amounts of money to hear it, just for a second.
the journey just amplified that longing. every little thing seemed to take ten times longer with the anticipation of seeing the pair of you. going through security, sitting in the lounge, going through the passport check, it all felt like it took years, especially when knowing you were on the other side of that border.
he had even considered bringing you both along for tours, just to save him that yearning. but he ultimately decided against it, as to not uproot your life and stability, and to save himself the teasing he'd undoubtedly get from john.
so it meant he'd just have to suffer for however many weeks he was away, staring at that photo as if it was responsible for both his suffering and all of his joy.
but there was truly no better feeling than this.
he got out of the car with a thump, trudging his way to the front door with his suitcase rolling behind him, guitar slung over his shoulder, feeling like it weighed 300 pounds. the weight of everything bared on his shoulders, he felt as though the feeling might never go away, no matter how many hours of sleep he got or how long he rested between tours.
but opening the door to the smell of home (or in this case, garlic), and the sound giggling slowly getting louder, all of his troubles seemed to disappear. "daddy!" that little voice yells, and round the corner, there she is, voice as sweet as ever and his chest just warms.
she's exactly the same as he remembers; brown hair in tendrils, eyes glittering with childlike innocent, giggling like just the sight of him is funny. her features are so soft, not yet hard and set like his own, and the desire to reach out and squish that tender skin is almost irresistible.
"hi, sweetheart." he lets out a huff of air as she launches herself at him, stumbling back onto the floor dramatically. he's quick to bundle her in his arms, listening to her incoherent babbles of missing him so much. "you did? oh, well i think i missed you more."
his grin only widens at her protest, her angry, furrowed eyebrows as she argues that there's no way that he could've missed her more than she missed him. to silence her grumbles, he leans forward and presses kisses and blows into her neck, a familiar remedy to her grumpiness, usually resulting in her laughter. and, like usual, she erupts in giggles, argument forgotten.
once he's certain she's all tickled out, he pulls back and gazes at her with a look so fond its almost sickening. "now, where's mommy? you've been good for her, i hope."
"in the kitchen!" she hops to her feet, grabbing his finger in her tiny hand to pull him along. "im helping her make tea." she says proudly, marching towards the kitchen, the smell of garlic and tomatoes growing stronger.
and there you stand, your back facing the doorway, as you stir a pot of sauce, half-listening to the radio blare. the scene, so normal, so domestic, warms his heart so much more that he doesn't think he can take it.
"mommy!" your baby cries, and you turn around before he can sneak up on you.
for a second, he sees the tiredness in your eyes, that engrained, undeniable exhaustion that seems to have seeped into your bones. but it all disappears when your eyes land on him.
instead, they light up with that soft excitement that's reminiscent of the early days of your relationship. in that, he's sent back to when he was younger and every time you spoke his heart would race and your cheeks would flush with bashfulness.
that feeling, now more settled, always returns when he hasn't seen you in a while, and it makes all those weeks away worth it.
"george-!" your voice is soft and breathy and excitement, and he feels an urge to fall to his knees and worship you to his dying days. you hadn't expected him home, evident but the sweet surprise on your face, and he love that he still gets these moments to shock you.
he momentarily forgets your daughter as he comes up beside you, his hand cupping the back of your head as he leans down and presses a kiss to your temple. "hello, love." his words, short and sweet, make your stomach do flips and your embarrassed by how much you feel like a teenager again.
"still a man of many words i see." you manage to quip, before he folds you into his arms, hand still cradling his head, and you tuck yourself into his chest, arms wrapping around him.
you stand like that for who knows how long, george pressing kisses to your head so much he feels like he can never stop.
the pair of you are only brought our of that trance, when george feels a soft but insistent tugging of his trousers. "hm?" he lifts his head just enough to see her, arms still cradling you. he wants to be annoyed, but looking at her big eyes that are a reflection of your own, he just can't.
"daddy!" her voice is whiny and she's glaring up at the pair of you.
"what's wrong, honey?"
she mumbles incoherently, but her whiny tone is enough to prove that you've somehow committed a great atrocity against her.
"oh, i think someones jealous." he coos, tone teasing as he kneels down so he can scoop her up. she babbles about how she isn't, but a kiss to the cheek silences her complaints.
the rest of the evening is domestic bliss.
george helps making dinner. well, as much as he can with your toddler clinging to him. you sit and eat dinner in front of the television, until she falls asleep on his chest, drool soaking a patch in his shirt. he relishes the simple, mundane nature of tucking her into bed, brushing the messy tendrils and pressing a kiss between her eyebrows
when he finally gets to bed, you're half asleep, and he sees so much of his daughter in you. your lips form the same sleepy pout, and his heart aches with love. he almost feels nauseous from the overwhelming adoration he feels for you and the little family you've created.
he gets into his pyjamas almost silently, pulling back the covers and sliding in beside you. he leans over, kissing between your brows, staring down at you until the sleep consumes him also.
can I request a teddyboy George Harrison x Reader where they both sneak out and get drunk (mainly George tho mayhaps..) and then uhh maybe make out and George confesses to them? pretty plss 🤤 i love your writing! have a nice dayy (or night idk)
Summary: George comes by your house late at night and asks if you want to hang out
Words: ca. 3000
Authors Note: My first request hihi I didn't focus too much on the drunk part because truthfully I haven't been drunk properly in like a year and I can't really put myself into that mindset right now - hope that's alright >-< I love a good drunk fic as well but I just couldnt get it right. Also I have no idea if there are any rivers or weeping willows in liverpool and neither was I sure on the nicknames George would use so I left it pretty open :>
George was nervous. In fact, he thought that this might be the most nervous that he had ever been.
He was fidgeting with some lint in his pocket as he made his way down the street which was only faintly illuminated by yellow streetlights, some flickering ominously, almost mimicking the unsteady beat of his heart.
“I’m so daft..” he mumbled as he turned the corner to where your house would be. He had a bag slung across his shoulder, cringing every time he heard the audible ‘clang’ of glass against glass. Why didn’t he just wrap a towel around the damn bottles, he thought. It couldn’t have been more obvious that he was carrying alcohol around and if anybody took even a passing glance at him they would immediately notice that he had indulged in one or two of those bottles beforehand as well.
And then he stood underneath what he knew to be the window of your bedroom. To his luck (or despair) he found it slightly opened and a faint glow signalised that you must still be awake.
He took a shaky breath.
“Psst, hey!” He winced at himself, hoping that you had heard him while simultaneously praying that you hadn’t and he could just walk away like nothing happened.
A few seconds went by in complete silence, his own heartbeat ringing in his ears.
And then he watched as your delicate hands gripped the edge of the window to fully push it open, your face appearing in an instant, surprised eyes meeting his.
“George?” you hushed, a confused smile curling onto your lips. What the hell was he doing at your place in the middle of the night?
He gifted you a sheepish grin in return, hands clammy in his pockets.
“Wanna ‘ang out?” George said, a lopsided grin on his face. This was ridiculous. There was no way you’d say yes. You were a responsible and put together person, you wouldn’t just climb out of your window to get drunk with him at one in the morning. Especially because from what he could see you were already in your pajamas, there was simply no way-
“Sure.”
His face dropped for a split second.
“Sound!” was all that he could croak out - ‘Pull yerself together man’ he cursed internally.
“Just give me a second, gotta get dressed and all that.” and then you vanished from his view causing him to let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in. George flexed his shoulders, another audible clang of the bottles as he shifted.
After a few minutes passed, you appeared back at the window, startling him slightly and pulling him from his thoughts. “Alright! Uhm-” he heard you mutter something, your eyes darting around the side of your house, seemingly sizing up the distance to the ground and how you’d be able to get down.
As if on instinct, George dropped the bag and set it down on the sidewalk. He took a few steps forward so he was right below your window now.
“No way you’re going to be able to catch me..” you laughed breathlessly when you saw him hold his arms out, looking up at you expectantly.
“Try me.” He simply replied, confidence returning at the notion. If he didn’t know any better he’d say you blushed when he shot you a fanged grin. The thought made his heart flutter.
He watched as you clumsily sat yourself onto the window sill, legs dangling outside now. Hopefully there was no noisy grandma looking out of her window so late at night or else the both of you wouldn’t hear the end of it. God knows how quickly old lady gossip gets around.
“I’m sorry if I bury you under me.” you chuckled cautiously, still insecure about the idea.
When your eyes met, he gave you one last reassuring smile which you returned timidly before pushing yourself off.
You let out a little yelp when he caught you, slightly knocking the wind out of you.
Oh the boost in ego that surged up in George when he felt you pressed against him, one of your arms tightly clutched around his neck, reveling in the feeling of holding you like this. Like he was your saviour, a knight in shining armor (or rather, worn leather in his case).
“Told ya.” He murmured, boyish grin beaming down at you. That is until George became aware of how close your face was to his.
It felt like you two shared a heart beat as you both just looked at each other. He couldn’t help his gaze momentarily dropping down to your slightly parted lips. God- you even looked at him like you were a kitten he rescued from a tree.
George cleared his throat after another passing second of silent glances before he gently placed your feet on steady ground. He ran a sweaty hand through his turbine hair, walking over to his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. The sound of glass bottles clanking against each other now louder than ever.
You gasped when you put two and two together. “Georgie!” you exclaimed, mockingly clutching your pearls which drew a chuckle from him.
“Thought we could have a proper bender y’know.” He said with a shrug and pointed his chin toward the direction he was planning on going with you.
“It’s Sunday though.” you said with a smile and began walking with him.
“S’ Monday now.” he corrected. “And you were up anyway.” He gave you a gentle nudge with his elbow. The sound of your giggle making his head spin.
“I was thinkin’ of going down to the river.” “Sounds nice.”
In truth, George hadn’t thought of anything. The only thing that he had planned was that he wanted to be alone and get drunk tonight, perhaps try to write his feelings into a song but the moment the first drop of liquor had hit his lips and the familiar warmth spread in his stomach, he found himself on his way to yours.
The both of you had been friends for quite some time now, first meeting on the bus to school and then it was as if you weren’t able to evade each other even if one of you had wanted to.
Suddenly you had been in all of his classes, and while he was shopping for new records his eyes had suddenly met yours on the other side of the aisle and then he even noticed you in the crowd while the Quarrymen were playing.
And George certainly wasn’t complaining.
The walk down to the river was quiet, a comfortable silence between the both of you and accompanied by the constant chirp of nightingales.
There was something inherently peaceful about being awake when no one else was.
For once there were truly no expectations, no need for productivity of any sort. In many ways it was as if this was the one time where one could simply be. Completely set free from any societal prospect.
The two of you left behind the soft glow of the street lights as you went off road. Steps taken a lot more careful and conscious now that the moon was the only guiding light. Luckily enough it was quite bright tonight, otherwise George would have been too worried that you’d accidentally hurt yourself in the darkness.
Soon enough, the two of you heard the soft murmur of rushing water. George took a few last steps before sitting down underneath a weeping willow, tossing the bag beside himself.
You followed quickly after, plopping yourself down beside him, his knee almost touching yours as he got comfortable sitting criss cross.
Without another word George reached inside the bag and pulled out a bottle of sweet liquor alongside some beer.
He felt your eyes boring into the side of his head. “Who did you steal this one from?” you asked, pointing toward the fancy bottle of rum. George snorted: “John.”
You giggled as you unscrewed the lid, the smell of it already giving you a taste of how strong it would be.
Meanwhile George was occupying himself with one of the beers, taking out a swiss army knife that he had taken with him and searching for the bottle opener. The distinct sound of a hefty swig had his head turning 90 degrees, watching as you violently shook your head from the taste.
“Pfff, be careful with tha’.” he cackled as you grimaced.
George finally found the tool he was looking for, popping open the lid on one of the ‘bevvies’ with ease now. He shifted and gently clanked his drink against the one that you still held onto.
—
It wasn’t long until George let his head hit the soft and slightly damp grass, a relieved sigh leaving his parted lips.
“Y’know it’s strange.” He began, one of his arms absent mindedly stretching upwards toward the night sky before dropping down across his forehead. He heard a little breathy laugh from you as you watched him.
“When I drink with the others I usually get a lot louder and all tha’…” he confessed and searched for your eyes in the dark.
“Do I bore you Harrison?” You chuckled, eliciting a soft laugh from him accompanied by the slight shake of his head.
“Notatall” he mumbled with a content sigh. “I feel very peaceful right about now if you want to know.”
The words left George’s lips before he realized and he felt the tips of his ears burning. He had never been this mushy with anyone except family - and it came so naturally when he was near you.
“Well I feel very peaceful as well.”
George felt your hand ruffle his hair a bit, his heartbeat becoming unsteady and stumbling over itself.
Soon after he sensed you standing up from beside him and then a few moments later, the sound of water being gently sloshed around could be heard.
“The water feels quite nice.”
George turned his head on the dewy grass and watched you step into the shallow water, the image before him upside down. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Now you really looked like eternal temptation straight from the myths.
The river engulfed your figure so gently.
George had no idea he could be envious of water.
“Come on!” you motioned for him to follow you, looking back over your shoulder at the brunette.
His cute fangs visible at the grin it pulled from him.
He stood up a little too quickly, the change in perspective momentarily making him grab his head to steady himself.
George made quick work to roll up his trousers and rid himself off of his leather jacket, socks and shoes, dropping them somewhere near the empty bottles.
A little more hurriedly than necessary he made his way into the river to be beside you. The cold water gave him goosebumps.
You gifted him a warm smile when he stood next to you.
For a while the both of you just stared up into the sky, searching for twinkling and sparkling constellations. Unconsciously leaning further into each other. Somewhere in the distance you could hear the familiar croaking of frogs, looking to impress each other.
“s’ really nice out ‘ere with ya..” he slurred into the shared silence.
He stood so close to you now, hands grazing against yours in the cold water. His gaze wandered up to look at your features. As you stood there, illuminated by the moonlight, George felt his breathing growing more erratic.
Perhaps he was just wrecked but the urge to keep leaning into you, to fully grasp your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours washed over him.
“mhm..” you agreed in a soft hum, timidly looking up at him, the motion causing a strand of your hair to loosen and fall across your face.
There was something else in the air all of a sudden.
George’s wrists felt weighted as he lifted one of his hands. Slender fingers gently grasping the strand and tucking it behind your ear.
His palm lingered before softly cupping your cheek.
The two of you blinked at each other. A silent question, a contemplation - a decision.
And then his lips were on yours. The way he kissed stood in contrast to how gently he cradled your face. Your noses squished against each other as if the mere idea of any space between you was a risk.
You gasped into the kiss, only enabling him to deepen it. George’s other hand came up out of the water and held you by the waist, pulling you impossibly closer. It took you a second to fully grasp what was happening, it felt almost surreal to be here.
At midnight, waist deep in a river and clumsily kissing the boy that had occupied your thoughts ever since you first saw him.
One of your hands came up to rest on the back of his neck, the cold water clinging to your skin startling him and causing him to momentarily break the kiss.
Tangled silhouettes panting heavily before finding each other's gaze.
“Fuck.”
That was all the boy could whisper before he met you again halfway for another kiss. This time it felt hungry. Wanting, needing.
George pulled you flush against him, feeling your hand grasp at his shirt. If he hadn't been too wrapped up in the feeling of your soft lips and your sweet taste he would have melted at the gesture. Like you were clinging to him for dear life, as if he was the only one that could save you from a terrible fate.
“George..” The whimper of his own name seemed to melt a fuse in his brain because the hand that had been softly caressing your cheek now wandered lower, the one on your waist gripping impossibly tight. Like you could slip from him if he didn’t hold you properly
His fingers trembled as they trailed over your neck and you shivered - a good excuse to pull each other even closer.
He slightly pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth, eliciting another sound from you that had his insides on fire.
George felt like he was floating, head wrapped in cotton as time seemed to halt. It was almost too perfect, he thought - and then you slightly stiffened in his embrace.
You pulled away hesitantly and he couldn't help himself from chasing after you. His tongue slipped between your lips, silently memorizing every inch of you he could taste.
“Georgie..” you gasped, one of your hands coming up to slightly scratch at the nape of his neck, twisting a few small curls around your fingers. A gesture that pulled a dreamy hum from him.
Your other hand came to rest on his chest, palm gently pushing at him for you to separate for a second.
“You- you're a lot more drunk than me I think.” you laughed breathlessly, averting your eyes from his and focusing on his fingers that were splayed at your waist.
“M’ not..” he mumbled, resting his forehead against yours, his lips twitching at the amount of control it took him not to close the gap.
“Definitely are..” you said, reaching up to lightly poke at his cheek, a touch which he immediately leant into, closing his eyes.
If George could see himself he'd probably blush and faint at his own neediness. Just a simple touch from you had his knees buckling.
“Just one more.. one more kiss please..” He muttered, face nuzzling and kissing your palm.
It was you who caught his lips this time around. Starting out in another gentle rhythm, like a slow dance to a bittersweet song. Soon enough your breathing quickened, George's hands sliding up and down your sides like he was barely containing himself.
You slightly pulled at his hair at the touch, a soft groan escaping his swollen wet lips.
“I love you.”
it was barely above a whisper. The river's murmur threatened to carry the sound away before it could reach your ears - and yet it didn't.
You pulled back in an instant, eyes wide and parted lips as you stared up at him.
“Say that again.” You didn't believe your own senses, just the possibility of having heard what you did sobering you up in an instant.
George's head slumped slightly forward, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, placing featherlight kisses along your skin.
“I love you.” He whispered, voice cracking slightly.
Of course he did. He loved you. And it was as if the fog had lifted and he could finally see clearly.
He loved you so much.
A beat of silence followed. The world stopped spinning and he held his breath. And then your arms were around his neck, pulling yourself into his embrace so abruptly that he couldn't keep his footing on the slippery ground of the river. With a yelp the both of you stumbled and fell backwards, submerging in the water while still holding onto each other.
Rapidly, George scrambled to sit up, his hands firmly holding your face in a brief panic.
“Are ya alright-?” he suppressed a cough at the small amount of water that had shot up his nose, eyes fixated on you and you alone.
You blinked, water slightly burning in your eyes.
Like so many times tonight, the look you then shared seemed to express whatever none of you were brave enough to confront - at least for now.
Instead you couldn't help the giggle that erupted from your cold wet lips. George felt like passing out. He stared at you like you hung the stars into the sky - your amusement contagiously infecting him and he hugged you flush against him.
The two of you were completely soaked, water rising up to your chest as you sat on top of him, revelling in the feeling of being so close.
“I love you too.” you murmured against his chest and he pressed his lips to your damp hairline. Lingering impossibly long.
“We should get out Georgie, we'll catch a cold.”
“Mhm.. in a minute sweetheart..”
The minute would stretch quite a bit as you sat there, the slight push and pull of the water comfortable and sleep inducing - if it hadn't been for your clothes clinging to your skin, the both of you could have probably drifted off.
And as you eventually got out for George to walk you home, you heard him sneezing behind you.
I actually love him so much- He’s my muse, my spiritual guide in such an innocent way. I know George as anyone isn’t a white dove but even with that, his voice, his songs and thoughts give me such a peace inside, try to learn to accept and enjoy the change as he did is such a complex path but entretaining with Harrisongs<3
+He has such a drawable face i love doing art of him xoxo
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