HELUUUU! Would you be will in to write drunk teddy boy george harrison👀👀👀👀
it can lowkey be anything with reader but I’ll write something so I’m not as vague🥹
for example reader and george are walking from a hangout (might as well could be from a quarrymen performance) and george is a tad bit drunk to go home properly and for some reason reader doesn’t know where he lives so they end up at readers house and the night ends with a short peck on the lips❤️❤️❤️❤️
after when the stuff wears off feel free to write whatever you think would suit as a next morning scene!
Matter of fact feel free to use an entirely different story and if u don’t want to write this then please don’t!! Lots of love, have fun and hope you get some cool requests👀👀👀👀
hi!! omg u so cute🥹 sorry for the long wait!Actually, I didn't really like the way I wrote it, but I hope you like it!!
Stay..
george Harrison x reader
words: 1716
warning: fluff, drunk george, kiss:)
summary: you take a drunk George home. He ends up staying. And the next morning, neither of them can pretend nothing happened.
English is my second language, so please bear with me if I get a little messy!
the street greeted me with fresh air. george had invited me to a concert — his band was playing at a bar, and he wanted me to come with him and listen to their songs. we danced, we laughed, we listened to other bands and we drank. but not me. I was the only one who didn't drink, it felt like. after the smell of alcohol, cigarettes and sweat, the fresh air felt like heaven. we had a great time but the others left surprisingly fast. and for some reason, they left me alone. with a drunk george. "Umm… George? Do you need help?" I watched his figure coming down the stairs. his steps were careful, and he held onto the railing tightly.
"Hic… no… I’m perfectly fine."
he smiled - a stupid, goofy smile that didn’t leave his face until he finally made it down the stairs a few minutes later, with an incredible amount of stumbles, during which he quietly cursed under his breath.
the road took us past rows of apartment buildings. It was late at night. there wasn’t a soul around. I walked next to george, who was humming some song I couldn’t make out because of how slurred it was. I had no idea where he lives, I’d never been to his place before. so I just followed where he went, except for the stumbles, which he kept making, which meant I had to keep holding his arm. which earned me a drawn-out "thank youuuu…" as he sang it.
"Hey, George… where do you live? Do we still have a long way to go?" I asked him, looking at the street that hadn’t changed in what felt like minutes.
"Haven’t the slightest clue… hic… I was following you, y/n," he said, kicking a pebble with his shoe, continuing his quiet humming. I turned to him in surprise, trying to figure out if it was a joke or not. "Are you kidding me? We’ve been walking this whole time, and it doesn’t even lead to your house? You have to be joking…"
I stopped and looked around. george stopped too and started looking around as well. "Don’t worry, love! I… we… we could go to y… your place." even though he was drunk, the nickname made me blush. he seemed completely unbothered. how the hell could someone forget where they lived?!
"We don’t have a choice. Come on…"
I sighed at his indifference. there was no other option. so we headed to mine. my place wasn’t far from here.
the walk was quick. george was starting to get tired - it showed on his face and in his endless mumbling about how tired he was and how he just wanted to go to bed.
when we reached the door to my building, feorge kept struggling with the stairs. he wasn’t doing a great job. "Give me your hand, George!" I reached out. he took it and just stopped, still holding my hand...
"Th… thanks."
a few minutes later, we were finally inside.
finally, I was home.
a wave of relief washed over me as soon as I stepped inside - the night had been fun, but also exhausting, mostly because of my unexpected guest.
I left george in the hallway, still struggling with his boots, and went upstairs to take off my outer layers and change into something comfortable.
when I came back down, the hallway was empty — except for his boots, carelessly kicked off to the side. my eyes drifted to the couch.
there he was. face-down in the pillow, one leg still hanging off the edge.
"You’re still in your outdoor clothes…"
I walked over to him and tried to take off his jacket. It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.
I laid it over the chair next to me and looked at him, at the way his body had already made itself comfortable in my living room, like it belonged there.
"George… let’s go upstairs to the room," I whispered, gently touching his shoulder.
"Mmm…"
he stirred, lifting himself off the couch in his crumpled clothes. and without a word, he started heading up the stairs. towards my room.
I followed him up the stairs, watching as he tried to walk straight, as if he was pretending he wasn't drunk, which only made it more obvious. It was almost amusing. when he reached my room, he didn't even wait. he collapsed onto my bed, still fully dressed in his outdoor clothes.
"George… no!" I started but stopped. I gave up on trying to get him to take off even his socks. Instead, I sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. his dark hair was sprawled across the pillow. he made no sound, only the soft rhythm of his breathing. I turned my head to the left. he was already looking at me. the small lamp on the nightstand cast a soft glow across the room. his eyes looked beautiful in that light. I decided he needed water. Just as I moved to get up, his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. he stayed face-down in the pillow, but his grip was firm.
"Don’t go… stay here. With me."
his voice was muffled. I couldn't fully see his face, but his eyes were fixed somewhere ahead. I didn't say anything. I just sat back down - a little closer. minutes passed. we sat in silence, until george lifted himself up and sat beside me.
I turned toward him, and he was already looking at me. through his messy hair, his crumpled clothes, his drunken gaze - I couldn't lie, he looked attractive.
I stared a second too long. then I lifted my hand to brush a strand of hair from his face. the gesture made him flinch. I pulled my hand back, startled. he seemed startled too. his eyes searched my face, and without looking away, he took my hand.
"George, what are you -"
I didn't finish, he kissed me.
It was soft. his lips tasted like cigarettes and alcohol. when he pulled away, I felt an emptiness — and a sudden longing to feel it again. but I reminded myself: he was drunk. "George… you need to sleep."
he wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. he was just having fun. that was all.
"y/n… don't leave me alone. Please."
his voice was less slurred now, but hoarse. calm. It made me want to lean into him again.
"Fine, George. If you really want -"
I didn't finish. again. he grabbed my shoulders and gently pulled me down beside him. he wrapped his arms around me, rested his chin on the top of my head, and held me close.
"You don't have to scare me like that!" I joked.
his shirt smelled like cologne, mixed with alcohol and cigarettes.
he just chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
my heart was racing - but even so, there was comfort in it. a calmness. his arm wrapped around my waist, soft and steady. the air between us was tense, yet somehow peaceful. I lifted my head to look at his face. he was already looking at me.
"Sleep. Just… don't leave me." he held me a little tighter. he was afraid I would leave him. but in that embrace, I could have stayed forever.
"i won't go, George... I won't go."
And we fell asleep, holding each other, tangled together until morning came.
when I opened my eyes, the room was flooded with sunlight. It spilled across the bed, warm and golden. I turned to the other side of the bed - rumpled, empty. and then I saw it. a shirt. folded neatly, placed beside me.
It took me a second to realise whose it was. and then it all came back. george. the kiss. I sat up quickly and made my way down the stairs. he was there. sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of water in front of him. he looked… good. you wouldn't have guessed he'd been drinking last night.
"Oh, y/n.. you're up early."
I stood at the bottom of the stairs, unsure whether to come closer. but staying there would’ve been strange, so I sat down across from him. not too close.
"Umm… good morning."
I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. so I got up and opened the fridge, pretending to look for something to eat.
"Hey… last night… did anything… happen?"
his voice was careful. he placed his glass down. my heart nearly stopped.
"You know… no! Everything was fine. I mean - you were a little annoying, but you didn't do anything weird...“
the last sentence came out weak. too weak. It gave me away.
"y/n… you're lying."
he was looking at me now. I stood there, biting my lip so hard I could almost taste blood.
"George… don't worry about it. Everything was fine."
I turned my back to him and busied myself with making coffee. at least my hands had something to do.
"I kissed you."
the words came out fast. sharp. I nearly dropped the coffee jar.
he remembered. everything.
"I thought you… wouldn't remember."
It was the only thing I could manage to say. I hadn't expected him to bring it up.
„Why did you lie?“
his voice was quiet. there was something in it — hurt, maybe?
"I didn't mean to do it. I don't know what came over me."
I turned to face him. he was looking down at the table, tapping his fingers against the glass.
he regretted it.
"Don't apologise. You know… it was fine. Actually, it was good. And… I've never kissed anyone before you, so… thank you?"
the last word came out awkward. but his gaze shifted. he looked up at me.
"So… you're not angry?"
there was hope in his voice. a spark. like he'd been afraid of my reaction.
"Not at all!"
I smiled softly, letting him know it was okay.
the morning passed in a quiet, comfortable warmth. we drank coffee, laughed about the night before — about how I’d led him home, about his stumbling, about the way he'd held my hand. and the kiss didn't ruin anything.
If anything… it made it better.
🤍
