#george x reader

[hirayalore]

it was a no-brainer that GEORGE WEASLEY got it from his father.

you saw it in his eyes—the manner in which they sparkled with so much curiosity whenever muggles were the topic of conversation, hundreds of questions always falling out of his mouth before he could restrain himself. 

it was endearing to witness him be so interested in things that you considered ordinary (which truly, they were), the questions always stemming from his genuine wonder of how muggles were able to live without magic, how they managed to accomplish tasks without spells, how certain devices worked without being charmed, how people went from one place to another without the help of floo powder or knowing how to apparate…

and having lived in a muggle home yourself for as long as you remember, it was one of the many things that you and george have talked about throughout your relationship, with you being more than happy to indulge him with his fascination with the non-magic folk in every opportunity that presented itself.

hence, when winter break came and your parents invited him to spend the holidays at your place, you knew that you had to take this chance to formally introduce him to the world that he has been oh-so-interested about.

“how are they doing this?” george mumbled beside you in complete awe, gesturing at the huge screen they had in the cinema.

you grinned and leaned closer to his side, the scent of his cologne and butter popcorn filling your nose. “they film it with a camera, and then edit it until it becomes one long video. a movie, as it’s called.”

“a movie.” he repeated, not hiding how impressed he was based on his tone. “and this camera you say, it’s not magic?”

“nope.”

“then how can it make the pictures move?”

“well, they’re not exactly pictures, love. they’re videos. or clips. i don’t know. there wasn’t exactly a class about this that i could attend.” you joked.

he laughed and looked at you. “well, whatever it is, it’s bloody brilliant. it amazes me how muggles can make pictures move without magic—and even make them have sounds! it’s truly fascinating. even magic hasn’t done that. unless you count a howler, of course.”

you gave him a fond grin, pleased that your mission to enlighten him with another thing from your world seemed successful based on his eager expression and the manner in which he was now focusing back on the movie.

as he did that, you couldn’t help but focus on him instead, your gaze glued to his face like he was the one you paid for to see in this dimly lit cinema. you admired the freckles that littered his skin, the slight smile he was showcasing, and his red hair that was neatly trimmed yet still had this effortless tousled look that tempted you very much to run your fingers in.

“hey, love,” you whispered abruptly, leaning closer to him.

george barely spared you a glance. “hm?”

“do you know what muggles usually do in muggle cinemas?”

at that, his attention is reverted back to you. “no.”

“it’s a tradition at this point, really.”

“yeah?” the innocence in his expression made you smirk. “what is it?”

without missing a beat, you gently pulled him by the neck and kissed him.

it started out just a peck, your lips pressing on his, and for a moment, george was sitting still, perhaps trying to read what was on your mind to prompt you to kiss him all of the sudden. but then you felt the curve of his grin against your mouth, and before you could blink, he angled his head, deepening the kiss with ease that told you he now understood what your intentions were.

you sighed, planting a few more soft kisses on his mouth and then deciding to pull back, seeing george look at you with a mixture of amazement and doubt.

“you just made that up, didn’t you?” he teasingly accused you. “are you telling me muggles consider it a tradition to kiss in cinemas?”

you tried to make your laughter as quiet as possible. “i’m being honest. and for the record, it’s not kissing that’s tradition per say—it’s much bolder than that. i was just being considerate and going easy on you.” you joked.

at your statement, you could practically see the shift in his expression, the confusion melting into sudden realization, as if the pieces of a puzzle had finally clicked into place.

slowly, an all knowing mischievous smirk appeared on his mouth, and this time, he was the one who was scooting closer to you, the gap between your faces thinner.

“well, in that case,” his nose brushed against yours, his voice dropping an octave, “who am i to deny a perfectly good muggle tradition?”

you didn’t even have the chance to laugh again, for george was already back kissing you, abandoning the movie and turning his full attention to you—no longer interested in the film now that he had you trapped in his arms, his lips eager and demanding as if he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[rainydayathogwarts]

Into the Woods - George Weasley

Summary: Waking George up to go out for a morning walk at the Burrow has him feeling quite frisky... This is basically straight up smut... 1.1k+ wc

The cool morning breeze had you snuggling deeper into George's side, chills running down your legs as the short sundress you wore did little to help warm you up. George, barely awake and holding back a yawn, welcomes your soft touch, a hand snaking around your waist to subtly pull you closer to him. "Maybe next time I won't wake us up quite so early." You admit, glancing up at your boyfriend, who chuckles at the comment. "I'd usually agree but I'm actually enjoying the privacy. You, me and the sounds of nature." A laugh bubbles in your chest and you jokingly push George away, who stumbles on the grass, gasping out a "You flirt!" despite both of you knowing how much you enjoy it.

When George finds his way back near you, both his hands make their way onto your hips, forcing you to face him. You cock your head to the side with a curious smile, accepting the kiss he leans down for. One of your hands rest on his cheek, though you begin to pull away when you feel his tongue swiping at your bottom lip. "George" You whisper when he chases your lips again, pressing individual pecks on them before trailing kisses on your cheek and down to your jaw. "George!" Lighting pushing his chest away from you, you attempt to separate the boy's lips from the area he begins sucking at on your neck.

His lips separate from your skin with a popping sound, though he doesn't fail to dig his face in the crook of your neck instead, hands on your hips moving to trap your body against his in a loving hug. "What's wrong sweetheart?" He asks, the wind making his ginger hair tickle your cheek slightly. "Georgie what are you doing?" "'M not doing anything." But his hands say otherwise, trailing down to your ass where he begins fondling you. You raise your eyebrows with a small smile on your face, one of your hands coming up to play with his short hair before asking him "Is this because of what happened yesterday?"

At your boyfriend's silence, you let out a small giggle. When you'd been called down for dinner in the middle of a quite intimate moment, you knew George would struggle to sit through the meal, however you hadn't been expecting long lasting effects. "I can give you a quick one if you want." You muttered, yelping when George immediately straightened up, one hand clasping around yours to drag you behind the trunk of a thick tree. George didn't hesitate to press his body against yours, a hand quickly making its way under your dress to pull your panties down to your ankles as he began kissing your jaw again.

"George! I meant like, like a handjob or something!" You whisper yelled, actions contradicting your words as you laced a hand in his hair, pulling him towards your lips to kiss you properly. He willingly obliged, this time gaining access to your mouth as he twined his tongue against yours in a messy kiss. Pulling away with a pant, George mumbled "Fuck, turn around for me sweetheart." You obeyed, spinning around and bending over just enough for your butt to stick out. Putting both hands on the tree trunk for support, you listened closely to the sound of George unzipping his trousers. He guided his cock between your thighs, wetting himself with your juices before spreading them down on his cock.

Clumsily, George probed two of his fingers near your entrance, whispering in your ear "Just want to prepare you for me baby." before sinking them into you. You whined at the intrusion, eyes widening at your own sound before remembering where you were. "George... Georgie, how close are we to the Burrow?" Your hips rocked back and forth with your boyfriend's fingers, looking over your shoulder to see him peering around the tree trunk. "Far enough."

You didn't even notice him taking his fingers out until he began pushing his dick into you instead, emitting a gasp from you as you gripped the wood in front of you. You heard George curse deeply, hands regaining position on your hips as he began to thrust into you at an increasing pace. Your chest hit the rough trunk in front of you with every powerful thrust, and you were squeezing your thighs together for more friction, the mix pain drowning you in pleasure. George leaned in closer to you, lips latching onto your neck to aggressively suck hickeys that would be impossible to hide in this dress. His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you back onto his dick with every thrust of his pelvis to hit your core at an angle that brought you too close to your orgasm too quickly.

Warning George of your approaching orgasm with a moan, you let him grab the nape of your neck, using the momentum to pull your torso off the tree trunk and up against his chest. He trailed that same hand down the front of your body, sneaking under the skirt of your dress, he cupped your pussy, thumb delving between your folds to put pressure on your clit. "Fuck, George!" You moaned, shutting your eyes tightly and throwing your head back on his chest, hands latching onto the thick denim of his trousers as your orgasm overtook your body, thighs beginning to shake slightly. "Yeah, that's it baby." You heard George mutter, hitting you with harsher thrusts that only increased the duration of your orgasm as he reached his high too, abs flexing with effort as he quickly pulls out of your cunt, aiming his cum away from you.

A hand still rests on your hip as George continues pumping his cock, milking out his cum with loud pants to catch his breath. You mimic his breathing, both hands now resting on your waist as you wait for your legs to stop shaking. George recovers before you, tucking himself back in his trousers and leaning down to pull your underwear up your legs. When he finishes, he wraps his arms around your front, pulling you back against his chest to press loving kisses against your forehead. "We have to check that one off the list." He whispers against your forehead, prompting you to spin in his arms, tugging the bottom of his shirt and pressing yourself on your tippy toes to steal a couple of real kisses from him. "Oh so that's why you did this? A bucket list?"

George shakes his head, making direct eye contact with you, a wide smile on his face as he confessed "No, I was just really horny."

[im-trying-my-best-yall]

I will die on the hill of George Weasley loving a partner with a bit of a temper

Like yes he will 100% protect you with his life but also if you can fight?? he will step aside and cheer you on and heckle the poor fool youre beating the ass of

Youre yelling up at some asshole upperclassman who had the audacity to tell you to watch where youre going in the hallway?? standing behind you as backup but mentally kicking his lil feet

You come to him fuming with clenched fists and asking for help on a revenge prank?? hes falling 10x more in love IMMEDIATELY

and he knows he can take care of himself just fine! him and Fred are perfectly capable at defending themselves! but if you stand up for him or his family in any capacity?? if you punch some blood-purist in the nose after they tried shit talking his "blood traitor" family in front of you?? you might as well just get married right then and there

[wifelivvyx]

۶ৎthe halls

“Come on, love, we haven’t got all day!”

Y/N barely had time to react before George grabbed her wrist and yanked her down the corridor, his laughter echoing off the stone walls.

“We are so getting caught,” she giggled, stumbling after him as they dashed past a row of old portraits.

“Not if you run faster!” George shot back, flashing her a wide grin over his shoulder. His red hair bounced as he pulled her along, his grip warm and firm around her hand.

Y/N gasped, nearly tripping as they rounded a corner. “Where are we even going?!”

“Anywhere but Transfiguration,” George said triumphantly. “McGonagall’s on a warpath today, and I don’t fancy being turned into a ferret.”

“You mean again?” she teased.

George groaned dramatically. “That was one time! And technically, it was Fred.”

“Sure it was,” she laughed, breathless as they ducked into an alcove.

They pressed against the cold stone wall, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Footsteps echoed nearby, and Y/N held her breath as Filch’s grumbling voice drifted down the hallway.

“I know I heard something… bloody students think they can just-”

George gave her a playful, wide-eyed look, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing.

As soon as the footsteps faded, George let out a relieved sigh. “Brilliant work, partner-in-crime. You’re a natural.”

Y/N smirked. “You nearly got us caught!”

“Ah, but nearly doesn’t count,” he said with a wink.

Before she could respond, he grabbed her hand again and took off running, dragging her through another set of winding corridors.

By the time they finally skidded to a stop in an abandoned classroom, both of them were panting and laughing, cheeks flushed from the thrill of it all.

“Well,” Y/N gasped, leaning against a desk, “that was the most fun I’ve had all week.”

George flopped into a chair, running a hand through his messy hair. “See? Skipping class isn’t just rebellion - it’s an art.”

She rolled her eyes fondly. “And what now, oh great mastermind?”

He leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Now? We celebrate.”

He pulled out a stolen chocolate frog from his pocket and split it in half, offering her a piece.

Y/N chuckled, taking it. “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“Always do.” George said with a wink.

And as they sat there, eating stolen chocolate and basking in the thrill of their perfectly executed escape, Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed this much.

[ador3him]

OKAYY HEAR ME OUT

dtk & reader hcs! but they are all friends, how do you think they would be if they hooked up with reader and got insanely pussy whipped by them 😭 LMAOOO , like they just get completely obsessed after the hookup

- 👻😁

pairing: dtk x reader

requested? yes by 👻 my beloved

warnings: public stuff, smut!

authors note: I didn't know if you meant like smut involved but I kinda incorporated it in, if you want something else just lmk, this is just how I interpreted it!!

---------------------------------------------------

DREAM

Dream gasped for air as he moved away from yn lips. His cock pulsed again even after two rounds. Dreams cock pressed against yn slick pussy. He began to grow again and moaned into her neck. "Dream I can't do anymore," she moaned out at the feeling of his growing cock. "That's okay," he mumbled. He reached down to just feel her pussy. He covered his hand over it feeling it's warmth.

-

"yn, what are you doing tonight?" Dream asked as all their friends sat around in the dream team living room. "nothing, why?" She smiled at him. "I was wondering if you wanted to?" He looked her up and down trying to hint. "I thought what you guys did was just a hookup?" Sapnap butted in. "It was, I just, I really liked it," Dream blushed. "Dude you're so fucked," Sapnap laughed and pointed down at Dreams obvious bulge.

SAPNAP

"I couldn't take my lips off her clit. It was so sweet and the sight. Oh my god," sapnap moaned at the memory of yn squirting all over Sapnap's face as he ate her out. "You've been talking about her pussy for like an hour it's really weird," George cringed. "It was so good though," Sapnap thought back. "She's our friend shut up," George threw a pillow at his crotch.

Yn walked by towards the kitchen. "Yn, Sapnap won't stop talking about you guys having sex," George laughed. "Seriously? If you liked it that much you could've just said and we could've done it again." Yn shrugged her shoulders and continued to walk to the kitchen. "What, really?" Sapnap eyes widened. Yn nodded and Sapnap jumped up grabbing yn around the waist and pulling her towards his bedroom. "I have to make your pretty pussy squirt again,"

GEORGE

"that felt so good," George whispered and pressed a kiss on yn forehead as they laid entangled in each other and the sheets. "It was, thanks Georgie," yn smiled and began to get up. "Wait, where are you going?" George asked pulling her back down. "To my bedroom?" "No, stay!" George pleaded holding his arm around his waist snaking it into her panties. "I'll convince you," he mumbled pushing her down onto the bed.

George looked up to yn eyes from in front of her pussy. "Can I?" He asks politely, pressing a kiss over her panties. "Yeah," she moaned out. "Good," he almost ripped her panties and dove into her wetness.

-

Multiple orgasms later George stayed latched onto yn clit. Yn moaned loudly and tugged at his hair begging for him to stop. "can't, I love your pussy too much," he mumbled into her heat. "We get it, yn pussy is great but some of us are tryna sleep." Karl knocked on George's bedroom door as the guest bedroom is next to George's.

KARL

Karl and yn sat next to each other on the couch along with all their other friends. Karl's hand made its way under the blanket that they were sharing and onto her thigh. "Can I do this?" Karl whispered into her ear. Yn nodded absently not thinking much of it until he squeezed her thigh higher then usual. "What exactly are you doing?" She asked softly. "I can't stop thinking about you, ever since we, you know. I need it. Please." He mumbled into her ear kissing it slightly.

Yn opened her legs slightly trying to be discrete. All their friends knew they hooked up as Karl was completely enamored by yn afterwards. Completely smitten by the feeling. But that didn't mean they wanted everyone to know that innocent Karl was currently finger fucking yns tight, soaking pussy he was obsessed with. Without thinking Karl took his fingers out and placed them into his mouth licking his fingers clean. "Are you guys joking?" Dream groaned looking at the two.

[mariclerc]

Petite sizes | cl16 & gr63

Summary: A girls' day out with your mom goes wrong, but your boys are always to the rescue.

Warning: mean words by reader's mom, Charles and George being supportive of you, a lot of fluff.

a/n: Hi guys! This is the first story/blurb in the "Poly!drivers" section, I hope you like it!! I accept suggestions and I would also like to know if you want a part two of this!!

You walk through the door, kicking off your shoes and letting out a tired sigh. Charles and George are sprawled on the couch, watching one of Gordon Ramsay's many cooking shows, hearing your sigh, they both turned their heads to look at you. You had gone to the mall with your mom to have a girls' day out, but, as always, she made one of her discreet comments about your body and that hurt you a lot.

“Hey guys...” you say with a shy smile that didn't reached out your eyes.

“Hey gorgeous, how was girls' day with your mom?” Charles asked sweetly.

”Did you find anything nice?” now George asked softly.

You hesitate, a flicker of sadness crossing your face. You plop down on the couch between them, snuggling into Charles' side.

“Well, there was this one shirt I really liked, but... it didn't fit right.” you say shyly.

George reaches over and gently squeezes your hand. “Oh no, that's a bummer. Was it too big or too small?”

You shake your head. “It was marked as a small, but it was way too big... You know that I usually use small or extra small, but nothing ever fits just right.” You bite your lip, trying to hold back tears. “And my mom... she didn't help either. She just called me a crybaby for being frustrated and said that because I'm "so small" and "like a dwarf," I can't find clothes that fit.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and Charles pulls you into a tight hug. ”Oh mon petit chou, don't listen to her. You're perfect just the way you are, petite et adorable.” (my little darling) (little and adorable)

George kisses your forehead. “She's just being a silly woman. You're beautiful, no matter what size clothes you wear, we just love you just the way you are, darling.”

They both shower you with kisses and gentle words, their love and support washing away the sting of your mother's hurtful words. You snuggle closer to them, feeling safe and loved.

“Thank you both... I love you my babies!” you smile softly at them.

Charles and George smile at each other, happy to see you feeling better. “On t'aime aussi, mon amour.” (we love you too, my love)

“You are our little princess okay? And we love you so much baby.” George whispers.

They hold you close, their love a warm shield against any negativity. As you try to snuggle with them, a question comes to your mind.

“Ehm... Guys? I want to know something.” you say while fidgeting slightly.

“Anything on your mind, mon ange?” Charles asks as he raises an eyebrow. (my angel)

“Well... I was wondering... Do you guys like my small body? I know I shouldn't ask this, but doubts consume me...” You say a little blushing.

Charles and George exchange a playful look, a knowing smile spreading across their faces.

“Like it? Princess, you're adorable! We wouldn't have it any other way.” George's says teasingly.

Charles pulls you closer. “Your size is perfect for cuddling... We love being able to hold you completely in our arms.”

”And your small frame makes you look even more beautiful in our clothes... Just saying.” George says while nuzzling your neck.

You have a shy smile on your lips. “Really? Well... In that case... I'd like to wear one of Charlie's hoodies.” You pause briefly. “Because I feel comfortable in it... And it's warm!” you giggle.

Charles smiles. “Well, in that case, you can wear my hoodies baby! If they make you feel comfortable, you can do it, you don't have to ask permission for it, okay?” He says and you nod, George smiles too. Charles' throws his arm around you, leading you to the main room.

“And if it's a bit big, don't worry babe. We can always roll up the sleeves and make it extra cozy!” George says as he follows you both into the main room.

You laugh and blush a little bit, the warmth of their affection chasing away any lingering doubts. As you slip into Charles' baby blue hoodie, engulfed by its soft embrace and their loving presence, you know that you are truly cherished and loved by your two boys, exactly as you are.

[themdera]

Wait for me

In every life. I’ll find you. 1540 Words.

The stage lights were blinding, as they always were. You stood at the back of the crowd, heart pounding in sync with the bass reverberating through the venue. George was on stage, mic in hand, his voice making the audience laugh. There was something transcendent about watching him perform—he commanded the room with ease, his charisma radiating across every laugh and cheer.

This wasn’t his usual setup of gaming videos or commentary. This was his podcast tour—live, raw, and intimate. Watching him like this was like seeing a different version of him, one that the rest of the world adored but you knew better than anyone.

At one point, his eyes swept the crowd and landed on you. His lips quirked into a small, private smile before he looked away, continuing his bit with Max and Andrew . That tiny moment was yours, a tether in the whirlwind of flashing lights and screaming fans.

As the show wrapped up, the crowd erupted in applause. George and the boys waved goodbye, bowing theatrically before disappearing backstage. You lingered by the side door, the crisp November air biting at your cheeks. The venue lights glowed dimly behind you as you waited, the hum of post-show chatter fading into the distance.

The door creaked open, and George appeared. His hair was damp from the heat of the stage, his cheeks flushed and his smile tired but genuine.

“There you are,” he said, pulling you into his arms.

“You did amazing,” you murmured, your face pressed against his chest.

“You always say that.”

“And I always mean it.”

He chuckled softly, his voice low and warm. “Let’s mcget out of here.”

The tour was grueling. The pace of travel, rehearsals, and endless fan interactions was wearing on George. You could see it in the way his shoulders slumped when he thought no one was looking, or how he fell asleep mid-sentence during quiet moments.

“You need a break,” you told him one evening as he sat at the hotel desk, his laptop glowing faintly in the dark room.

“I can’t,” he replied, not even looking up. “The next show’s sold out, and I have edits due for the channel for a few brand deals too, It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, and you know that. You’re running yourself into the ground.”

“I’m okay,” he insisted, but the cracks were showing.

You watched helplessly as he pushed himself harder, your protests bouncing off the wall of his determination.

The collapse happened during a recording session in his makeshift studio. You heard the sound of a chair scraping and a heavy thud, and when you rushed in, George was on the floor, pale and unresponsive.

The ambulance ride was a blur. His friends arrived at the hospital shortly after you, their faces pale and tense. The waiting room was suffocatingly silent, the only sounds the faint buzz of fluorescent lights and your own uneven breathing.

Hours passed before a doctor finally emerged. “He’s stable,” they said. “But his body’s been under immense stress. He needs complete rest.”

Relief flooded through you, but it was short-lived. When you saw him lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to monitors, his usual energy replaced with exhaustion, your heart broke.

“You scared me,” you whispered, gripping his hand tightly.

He cracked a faint smile, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sorry, love.”

“This isn’t funny, George. You have to stop.”

“I know.”

But you weren’t sure he truly did.

Recovery was slow and frustrating for him. George hated being idle, hated feeling like he was letting people down. But you were firm, forcing him to rest even when he protested.

One evening, as you curled up on the sofa, his head in your lap, he sighed deeply.

“I don’t know who I am without this,” he admitted, his voice soft.

“You’re still George, you’re still you” you said, running your fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Not to me, not to them.”

He looked up at you, his eyes glassy. “What if I’m not enough?”

“You are,” you said firmly. “You always have been.”

But just as things seemed to be getting better, he began to withdraw again.

One night, he told you about a dream.

“We were together,” he said, his voice low, “but then you were gone. I kept calling for you, but I couldn’t find you.”

“You’ll always find me,” you promised, cupping his face.

“Promise me something,” he said, his eyes searching yours.

“Anything.”

“No matter what happens, don’t stop fighting for me.”

“I promise.”

One day, as you were tidying up his studio, you found a note tucked between the pages of his planner. It was scribbled in his messy handwriting, and your heart clenched as you read it:

“What if I can’t do it anymore? What if I’m not good enough anymore ?”

Tears blurred your vision as you clutched the note to your chest.

You tried to talk to him that night.

“I found your note,” you said, your voice tentative as you sat beside him on the sofa.

He tensed, his eyes darting to the floor. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

“George,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to carry this alone.”

He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” you pleaded, your voice breaking.

For a moment, he looked at you, his eyes filled with so much pain it made your chest ache.

“I’m scared,” he admitted finally. “What if I let everyone down? What if I let you down?”

“You could never let me down,” you said firmly, cupping his face in your hands. “I love you, George. That’s all that matters.”

But love wasn’t enough to stop what came next.

It happened one quiet afternoon, a rare day off where you were both home. George had been in his studio all morning, working on something he wouldn’t let you hear yet.

“I’ll come out in a bit,” he’d said when you brought him a cup of tea. “Just need to finish this.”

But when you checked on him hours later, he was slumped over his desk, unresponsive.

The ambulance arrived within minutes, but it felt like an eternity as you sat by his side, clutching his hand and begging him to wake up.

He didn’t.

The doctors said it was his heart, weakened from years of stress and neglect. You couldn’t process their words.

George was gone.

The man who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who held you close when you were scared, who promised he’d always find you—he was gone. The world moved on, but you couldn’t. His absence was a void you didn’t know how to fill. His friends tried to help—Chris and Chip checked in constantly, Arthur sent you food, Freezy offered to cover your work responsibilities—but nothing could replace George.

The emptiness that followed was unbearable. The funeral, the condolences, the quiet that settled in the wake of his absence—it all felt like a cruel joke. His studio became a shrine, untouched except for the nights when you’d sit in his chair, headphones on, playing his last recordings.

One night, as you sat in his studio, the familiar scent of him surrounding you, you pressed play on his laptop. The screen lit up with a video file, the title simply reading: For Her.

George’s face appeared, his smile bittersweet as he looked into the camera.

“Hey, love,” he said softly. “If you’re watching this… I guess I’m not there anymore.”

Tears streamed down your face as his voice filled the room.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to leave you like this. But I need you to know that you were my everything. You still are. And I’ll always find you… somehow.”

As the video ended, you clutched the screen to your chest, his words echoing in your mind. That night, as you drifted into yet another restless sleep, you heard it:

“I’ll always find you.”

Your heart raced. “George?”

The air felt charged, as if he was there, just out of reach.

Desperation gripped you. You turned to myths, legends, anything that might give you a way to bring him back.

It was impossible, but so was hearing his voice.

“George!” you cried, running to him.

He turned, his face lighting up with a mix of shock and relief. “You found me.”

“I promised,” you said, throwing your arms around him.

But the reunion was fleeting. A voice boomed: “To take him back, you must follow the path and never look back. If you do, he will be lost forever.”

You nodded, your grip on George’s hand tightening.

The journey back was agonizing. The whispers grew louder, taunting you, but you kept your gaze forward. As you neared the threshold, the urge to look back became unbearable. You could feel George’s presence, but doubt crept in.

“Don’t stop,” his voice urged.

Finally, you stepped into the light. But the moment you turned, George’s face lit with love—and then dissolved into the shadows.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed.

But his voice lingered, soft and unyielding: “I’ll always find you. In every life.”

[shakirawastaken]

dsmp if... you were a romance trope

i got inspiration (sapnap, dream, george, karl, quackiy, wilbur) 

sapnap (hockey x figure skater): - im in the middle of heartbreaker rn and SHUT UP - i LOVE THIS TROPE - IM NOT EVEN A FIGURE SKATER I DO TAEKWONDO BUT I STILL FROTH OVER THIS SHIT - and then in addition to that one tommyinnit is a figure skater and everyone else is on a hockey team “ice these hurts” or smt h like that - i love this trope. - anyway i think that this trope comes hand in hand with enemies to lovers - his hockey team and ur figure skating group are at the same winter sports competiton - and you have to share a rink - booooo - so everyday you end practice with the sight of a bunch of hockey buffs roughhousing in the stands, waiting for you to finish - and everyday a certain brunette one sneers and smirks at you as you walk off the ice - “had a nice practice ice queen/king?” he asks you teasingly - “shut up, yeti” you mutter back gratingly as you bump your shoulder into his build as you pass him - and he comes up with a new one everyday - and you quip right back at him, unphased - one day, he comes into practice early just to spite you - what he wasn’t expecting is to see how good you actually were on the ice - he sat there like “ :O” and just watche dyou glide across the ice with what seemed like barely any effort - and he watched how passionate you were in your craft and the dance - and bro was whipped right then and there - so that day as you were leaving he said “you were amazing out there” and it took u jumpscared - you were like “no insult today?” - and he was like “dang, didnt know u liked them that much ;) but not today, not for something as beautiful as that” - and i think you can guess where it went from there... :)

 dream (ceo and employee romance):  - AKAIAKAKAHAKH TELL ME YOU SEE THE VISION - i mean hes a ceo alr so its like one step in the door you know - anyway hes a ceo - bro wears those fancy ass suits everyday and has like a wine cellar mini fridge shit thing in his office  - any way you pull up to his headquarters one day for like an interview and you were so fucking nervous  - you ran into him in the elevator (and no clue who he was) - and you basically vented to him for the 30 second elevator ride before scurrying off to your interview - bro didnt even get dreams name or anything - he kinda just smiled and wished you well as you ran away  - he thought you were so cute  - and you thought dude was hot as fuck  - anyway you got the JOB!! LETS GOO - the next day, your supervisor is like taking u around showing u the works - ....and you meet the ceo - its dream - and youre like :0 and he’s like  *smirk wink* ;) “hey” - and youre like “well fuck hes the ceo i cant be in love with him” - and you avoid him - but he makes it his life’s mission to get on ur radar - in the break room, in ur cubicle, in the cafeteria, in the parking lot man is ON YOU LIKE A MOTH TO A LIGHT - eventually he convinces you to go to fancy dinner - and WOW hes paying?? so that shit was FIREEEE - fancy wagyu steak and 102379182 year old wine i mean cmon - it was good ok - he asks you out after dinner and assures u ur job wont be at risk and everything - ba da bing ba da boom  - now youre dating happily and he spoils the FUCK outta you  - lmk if you want this one as a big fic with dialogue

george (neighbors): - tell me why whenever i have my delulu daydreams with george he’s always a neighbor - very much boy next door vibes - omg HES YOUR COLLEGE ROOMMATE NEXT DOOR - stoppppp - on move in day he pulls up with his family and u with urs and youre like - “hi ! nice to meet you im so exicted to move in!” and bros like “same!” - sometimes hes loud bc hes talking to his friends but you dont mind - hes a cs major and ur  whatever u want major - one day you decided to start singing  rlly loud while cleaning - ur singing taylor swift - and then george could hear you from the room next door to yours - so he writes up a little post it note that was like “loved the concert! when’s the next one?” and stuck in on your door - you found it and started mad blushign - you had a crush on him since day one awwww - anyways you two started communicating via post it notes and songs played loudly through the walls <3 - till one day you hear boyfriend by big time rush - and then you play girlfriend by avril lavigne back - and then he slips you a post it note under the door and you open the door before you could read it  - and its an unspoken like thing that you start dating - its so romantic how you can saw you guys starting dating because of taylor swift !!

quackity (academic rivals): - DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON THIS TROPE IT BRINGS ME LIFE ALRIGHT - alright - two law school students FIGHTING IT OUT ACADEMICALLY - you guys met in ur freshman year english class or some shit - clashed together in a discussion group - and its been game on since then - your texts with each other are flaunting texts - “hey alex, guess who got a 97 on the last midterm?” - “guess who got a 99 ;)” - over time, the texts started getting more and more hostile - people started to thing you two actually hated one another’s guts  - but in reality it was more for the thrill - but this continued throughout your law school careers - and you both become successful lawyers in the end!! - and when the headmaster calls you both into his office and says - “youre both valedictorian! congrats! you have to give a speech together” - well its like all the hatred faded away - you grinned and cheezed at each other before giving each other the biggest hug ever - so you both wrote a speech together - and soon the day of graduation came - and q goes at the end “i wouldn’t be here without the person who motivated me through it all, so thank you (y/n)” and youre like “hey man *sob* wtf *sob” - and you kiss him on the cheek and cheer to all the graduates  - after the ceremony he catches up to you in the parking lot, grabbing your wrist before you could go off with ur family - and blurts out word soup - and ur like what - and hes like ��i really like you, and law school wouldn’t have been the same without you. can we be more than friends?” - and youre like “duhhh” and kiss him right there karl (best friends to lovers): - YOU ARE IN LOVE BY TAYLOR SWIFT  - that is the song for this SCENARIO - you two met when you were little kids in like first grade - your friends werent there on that day so you hung out with each other - hooked to the other since then and there - it was always “karl and you” and “you and karl” - you came as a packaged deal - through ups and downs you were there together - you graduated high school together and were going to the same college together now - while karl barely got into any romantic relationships, you seemed to be going through a few of them  - you were desperate for a love connection and honestly i aint blaming u - one day after a horrible date he came over to your dorm and u had an impromptu sleepover - you were in karls old shirt and some pajama pants and he was in his pajamas - and you two were just watching a movie together - before he turns to you abruptly, and you turn to look at him - and he’s like “you’re my best friend”  - and you saw a switch flip in him - since then, the dynamic between you two changed (for the better) - you became more flirty more touchy  - you started to act like you were a couple more and more - one day you saw him open his wallet to pull out his card  - and u saw that he has a picture of the two of you in his wallet - and then you knew that he was it for you - you ask him out that night - and hes so happy hes picking you up and spinning you around - <3 wilbur (musician x fan trope): - okay this is inspired by those tik toks that are like “did you see the way he looked at me” and its harry styles staring and eyeing down a fan in the audience like YES - and he’s a musician so it fits! - imagine lovejoy is like a HUGE HUGE Band so maybe this is in the future - anyways you and ur friend go to a lovejoy concert - for the sake of the story, youre not that big a fan of lovejoy just familiar with hits like sex sells and one day - the whole time ur friend is like “theyre so good hes so good its all so good” - you two end up a few rows from barricade  - and you and ur friend start screaming it up as you should - youre not oblivious to the way the lead singer keeps looking over in your direction, winking and smiling - imagine a sweaty, singing wilbur glancing over at you during sex sells and giving you a smile as he rasps out “you know sex sells i know that” - brb ascending to heaven - anyway a time comes when he stops to speak to the audience - he wastes no time - he struts over to your side of the stage and points at you  - “what’s your name?” - and you scream it at him - “what a lovely name!” - the crowd cheers - “ahre you single?” he asks with a grin on his face - the grin grows when u nod at him - “give me ur number!?” he asks and you nod at him as ur friend is dying next to you - he gestures u and ur friend to the front of the stage by the barricade  - and he passes you a marker and make syou WRITE YOUR NUMBER ON HIS GUITAR OR HIS SHIRT OR SOMETHING - oh yeahh go you go you thank yoU! let me know if you want any of these to become a bigger story/imagine and LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART 2 WITH OTHER PEOPLE :D reblogs appreciated

[deadqueerboys]

can we get dtk baby fever?

Of course!!

Baby Fever - Dtk

Dream, George, Sapnap, and Karl x Gn! Reader (separate)

Yes I'm on my period how did you guess?

SFW UNDER THE CUT

Dream

He was ready for that. He has always been. He usually asked you this every night before sleeping. Dream would ask you while you're on his lap, the most comfortable position, and the one he likes the most. He's such a baby while you're with him, and then he sees the perfect opportunity.

"What do you think about having a kid? Just us. We could create the child, just me and you.. and the boys, too." Dream smiles, peaking kisses on your neck while he plays with your hair. He wasn't being dramatic at this time. He was being for real. That was a deep wish he always had, especially having siblings. He knows how good he can be with children, let alone one who is like him.

Dream was really good with kids. He knows what to say to make them feel better, and he uses it like if it was nothing. Before deciding how you wanted to have the kid, it didn't last long for the child to start acting exactly like Dream. They loved games and stimulation, running around with Patches and playing with Dream's computer.

For him, it was a dream come true. He could see himself on his kid, and maybe a little of you. Maybe the way the kid smiles. Maybe the way they always come back to hug both of you before going back to playing.

They grew up with Sapnap and George, so they always had somebody to play with. If dad was busy, he could easily go to Sapnap and ask him to play minecraft on his computer. Or maybe he could go to the kitchen with George and make some cookies.

George

He wasn't ready for a yes. He was being innocent and playing around. He was wishing it for days. His voice was getting inside your head so bad it hurt. But, it was George. And he wouldn't ask you this if he wasn't being for real. Plus, you both have the age to have a kid, George feels like he's getting old, and he needs it so bad. He would beg around, getting on his knees for you and putting his hands on your hips.

"Please, come on. It would be so good." George begs one more time. He usually isn't like this, so confident and mean all the time, but not now. No. He was laying his head on your thigh, caressing the skin of your waist with his thumbs. "Babe, this kid would be so pretty. At least I know I'm pretty." He shrugs and stands up.

After a discussion and until you both decided to really have the kid, George was in heaven with this child. He would walk around with the baby on his lap, saying how the kid looks like him and how pretty the child is. He loves their eyes. Their little hands and the way he can hold them.

He would also have the help of the boys to take care of the kid, sometimes when you need to work and George is too tired the kid just sleeps on Dream's lap, it makes him look like a good uncle. Of course, the kid is such a baby for George's lap and hugs. It's obviously the kid likes him better, but let's keep it a secret.

Sapnap

He was asking for it so gently, giving you gifts and money. Paying your dinner and buying you chocolate and candies. He was way too nice. Once you realized, he was frozen. He wants something. You just didn't know what it was. Until he came home with flowers and a new perfume.

"Love, do you want to make it happen? I know you're busy and we will have to work a lot on it, but.. would you like to have a kid with me?" Sapnap was so gentle, putting his hand above yours and kissing it. He was truly asking you seriously, not like the time he asked you to edit a video for him or the time he begged you to have new cats and even after you say he brought them anyway. He was being dead serious.

He kept begging, and how could you say no? Sapnap was so happy when you said yes. He knows it's a little bit early. He couldn't help being so excited about it, tho. He brought anything the kid would want, but against his expectations, the kid was pretty attached to you. Always begging for your lap and needy for your touch.

Sapnap laughs at it. He doesn't mind, not even a little. He likes how good you are with your kid, and he knows the kid looks like him anyway. Nobody could tell if the child was his or not. He also didn't care about this. He loves this kid with they being his or not.

Karl

He wasn't planning on asking you to have a baby. He just accidentally made it. One night, tired while you both were cuddling, he had a rough day after working with Jimmy. He was so sick and with soft fever and headache. Karl was desperate for comfort. He didn't want to let you go. Then, he smiles at you and says it.

"It would be so nice if we had a kid, I would have someone else to hug and give kisses." Karl chuckles and closes his eyes. Not a minute longer, he falls asleep. This thing, this sentence got in your head for so long when he woke up in the next morning feeling better and less sick. You talked with him about having a son/daughter. He agreed, it wasn't a bad idea, Karl was kind and he would totally be a good father.

He's a little unaware of how to take care of a child, especially his child. He just knows the kid got your nose and your smile, which is enough for him to love this child for the rest of his life. He doesn't know much about being a father, but he tries his best.

The best thing ever is when the kid laughs, because it's exactly the same laugh as Karl. It's goofy and funny, and it makes this a little more special. It's your kid, and you couldn't like anything better. It doesn't matter if the child grows up to be an artist or a hard worker, which matter is if they're happy. Karl loves to show his kid to everyone and make them laugh in front of people, showing them to Nolan and Chandler.

[rogue-durin-16]

LUCKY LUZ

Request: omg you are my favourite writer, and I read your bob stuff weekly again and again ! If you feel like it, I was thinking prompt 7? With George Luz ? I’m a sucker for angst so like anything angsty with my boo George Luz.

Summary: Bastogne took a serious toll on Easy Company. At the loss of so many friends, George Luz started to tamper with his luck a bit too much for a certain medic's liking.

Prompt/s:

"We have a problem." "No— you have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps getting in trouble."

Pairing: George Luz x medic!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: mentions of death, survivor's guilt, self-destructive behavior, depressed George Luz (YES THIS IS A WARNING I'M GENUINELY SORRY)

A/N: you asked for angst? I'll give you angst. Also, it's been SOOO long idek if I'm gonna write the BoB boys right/as I used to, so bear with me while I try to get the hang of this again. Enjoy this request and remember they're open so feel free to send ideas <3.

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

In war, much like in any aspect of life, there would always be recklessness.

Little did it matter whether it was on the XO's, the Privates' or the civilians'. There would always be recklessness causing avoc amongst the carefully detailed strategies. It wasn't an excuse for whatever the outcome was, but it was expected and one could somewhat prepare to counteract it— to balance it out.

George Luz's behavior during our last days in the Bois Jaques was not recklessness.

No, it wasn't something as simple, so easily justified by inexperience, pride or short-temper. It was darker, more complicated, and way much worrying than recklessness.

'you think he's tryna kill himself?'

Spina's question, the one he had whispered to me in our foxhole a few nights prior, echoed in the back of my mind every day since then.

'Don't say that.' I had responded at the time.

Now George Luz laid before me, unconscious, with bandages under his winter uniform and I asked myself the same damn question.

Twenty Hours Earlier

"INCOMING!"

Lip's shouts were barely audible, muffled under the thunderous shelling of our position.

We had just managed to advance further into the Bois Jaques and towards the town of Foy, which seemed more and more unreachable each passing day, when that dreadful whistling hovered over us.

Foxholes barely dug and low morale after the loses we had endured the past couple of days, made it harder than usual to react on time.

Thankfully, German artillery hadn't zeroed us yet, so most of us managed to take cover.

If most of us managed, why was George still standing out in the open?

"LUZ! GET DOWN!" Someone yelled, but it didn't reach him.

"GEORGE!! DOWN!!" Lipton's throat sounded sore, but it did the trick and soon the Technician was crouching, yards away from me, helmet secured with one hand and his rifle up on the other.

Lucky Luz, an ominous, abrupt silence followed his delayed reaction as the shelling seemed to come to a halt.

"Woah," as if everything was fine, he snapped back into his carefree demeanor with a breathy laugh. "That was a close one, huh, Y/n?"

My immediate, impulse-driven reaction was to yell at him, although not even I could hear it.

Another deafening whistle.

Another explosion.

Maybe Luz was lucky himself, or maybe, just maybe, he was lucky we were willing to risk our lives for him.

Maybe he was just lucky I jumped out of my foxhole to pull him into it.

Maybe he was just lucky I wrapped him in a tight embrace to shield him from possible shrapnel the best I could.

Maybe, just maybe, he was lucky enough for me to feel his yelp despite not hearing him due to the explosions— lucky enough to have been dragged on his back instead of his tummy.

Lucky enough to be in a medic's foxhole.

The shelling stopped, this time for good. I halfheartedly let go of Luz, my gloves now crimson-stained.

My heart skipped a beat.

" 'M hit—"

"Christ— I got it." My covered palms instinctively found the left side of his ribcage, but failed to reach his wounded upper thigh.

"—fuck-" he hissed, jolting his head up in pain and consequently bumping it on my shoulder.

"LIP!" Before I could yell anything else, our Sergeant slid into the foxhole.

"WE NEED A JEEP OVER HERE! PERCONTE!" He shouted, pulling George towards him so I could move aside and properly fix him up. "It's alright, George, you're okay— right Y/n?"

Luz was not okay. We knew it.

But I couldn't exactly say that, specially just after he had been hit.

"Right, Y/n?" Lipton insisted intently, holding George in place while I ripped his jacket to have an easier access to the main wound. "Y/n?"

"Yeah- yeah, right." I mumbled, dusting the sulfa powder where he had been hit. "Sarge, I need that jeep."

Lipton sighed and looked over his shoulder. "Perco?!"

"They're comin', Lip!"

George was awfully quiet as he tried not to recoil due to the pressure put over his open wounds.

"It's alright." Lipton repeated, more to himself than to Luz.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

"You're awake." She stated even before I could open my eyelids to see her standing by me, arms crossed and a frown on her face.

"How'd you know?" I question, squinting and blinking a few times before propping myself up in the poor excuse of a bed in which I had been laid to recover.

" 'Cause I know you."

"Where are we?"

"You got hit."

"I know."

"Then why on earth did you ask—"

"Dunno, I was hoping we'd be in heaven." I winked at her before completing my sentence. "Since you're my own personal angel."

Silence.

"You think it's funny?" I opened my mouth in agape, not knowing which was the right answer to that —because there was always a right answer with her— but I had no time to choose. "You think it's funny that I had to put myself in harm's way to drag your ass to safety?"

I furrowed my brows with a puzzled half smile and a sort of anger I couldn't describe brewing inside me. "You're kiddin' right?" A single breathy laugh escaped my throat. "C'mon Y/n/n, I thought you knew what you were signing up for when you volunteered to be a medic."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean if you don't know you have to 'put yourself in harm's way'," I mimicked her voice, which left her stunned. "Then, we have a problem."

"No. You have a problem." oh, she was mad. "I have an idiot who keeps getting in trouble." The medic was quite obviously trying not to yell at me.

"Okay, if you say so." I shrugged, trying not to let the turmoil of emotions the conversation was triggering inside me show through my careless facade.

"What are you trying to do here, George?"

"Nothin'?"

"Why are you trying to get under my skin?"

"It's just what I do best, sweetheart."

And it was true. For two years, I had been an awfully insufferable piece of shit.

How could I not? When that was the only way to get her attention back in Toccoa; the only way to stand up in the eyes of the prettiest woman I had ever seen amongst an entire Battalion of men.

Not that it took me anywhere per se, but at least we had forged a friendship based on sweet bickering, muffled laughs and knowing glances.

She used to laugh all the time.

Maybe I was no longer funny. Had I lost the one thing I was useful for?

Or maybe she was tired of me.

She did seem tired then, staring at me with a saddened, wornout visage.

"You're not okay." She nearly whispered. "I'm done letting you pretend you are."

"I'm not pretending—"

"You think I don't know what means being medic?" Her tone told me I had crossed the line. "You think I don't know I gotta get out there if someone cries for help, no matter how scared am I or how slim my chances of survival are?" Y/n tried to stay gentle, but she had had enough, which somehow scared me. "But no one screamed 'medic', George. You weren't down. But I still got out there to get you. It was not my job, do you understand?"

Shut up shut up shut up.

"Well if you're gonna complain this much then you should've left me there—"

"To die?"

Despite the crazing chaos that surrounded our little corner in the aid station, I somehow heard nothing but a deafening silence and the pounding of my heart.

"Do you wanna die, George?" I went livid, trying to look for a reply that wouldn't make me crack. "Is that what you're trying to do? Kill yourself?"

"Are you nuts?"

"Answer my question."

"I-" Scoff. "what d'you even—"

"Luz."

"I'm tired! I'm just tired and didn't react on time, okay? Is that what you wanna hear?"

"What I wanna hear is a good reason not to get you pulled off the line!" She shouted, stomping on the cold ground beneath us.

Oh, now people were staring.

She used to become so self-conscious about that; people giving her looks for raising her tone.

As she stood straight by my side, towering over my bed, there was not a single ounce of self-consciousness in her frame.

She was mad. Mad and hurt.

Hurt because I wasn't being honest with her. Hurt because she had been sticking up for me for an entire week because I just wasn't there; because I was, like she had just said, I was an idiot getting in trouble.

"So? Go on, then." The medic spurred me, gradually lowering her voice again. "Give me a good reason."

"You can't get the XO'S to pull me off the line, Y/n." I chose to respond, almost daring the girl.

She was holding back. I didn't quite know from what exactly but I knew she was holding back, and a part of me wanted Y/n to lash out.

I'm sure a part of her wanted, too.

Tension could be cut with a knife, and deep down I wanted to give her an answer but the truth was I couldn't find it, and if I was damn good at something, it was dodging the bullet.

"Listen if you don't have anythin' else to say," I shrugged with my brows raised. "Guess it's better for you to head out."

"Y'know what? I still have something to say." She spat through gritted teeth, yanking a stool that stood alone by a blooded stretcher. With a deep breath, she sat down beside me, which was the last thing I expected her to do. "You're a fuckin' moron. You've always been. But you've never been an asshole." She spoke intently, trying to get her point across despite me not being in the best place to listen. "You're not an asshole, George."

No matter how angry or frustrated she was, there was always an inherent sweetness in her tone whenever she talked to me, one that shook me to the core because how could someone be so lovely in such horrific setting? How could she be so lovely to me?

"And you're not gonna convince me otherwise." She firmly stated, staring straight into my soul to make herself clear.

'I see through your bullshit'.

"So quit it."

She remained expectant, waiting for me to say something —anything.

I couldn't.

She knew it.

With a defeated sigh, she reached out for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before getting up and out of the tent. It was her way to apologize because she had to leave. I knew that gesture too well.

Aldbourne, Early September

Laughter and soft music kept the good spirits high inside the crowded pub in Aldbourne; our small safe haven. The only place where I had seen Y/n loosen up completely.

She lit up the place, dancing with Penkala, telling stories with Guarnere, cracking jokes with Martin —her dry humor matched his perfectly.

It was, I think, while she held onto my arm, throwing her head back in a fit of laughter due to something Babe had said, that I knew I loved her.

Even with her head on my shoulder and my arm lazily wrapped around her waist, she remembered to check her watch. Ever the dutiful one.

"Jesus! Would you look at that?" She pulled away from me, her fingers gently clasping my forearm before giving me an apologetic smile. "Gotta head out already, boys."

"Oh, c'mon Y/n" Buck complained, but she repeated the gesture with him and he knew no amount of convincing would get her to stay.

"But we're just getting started!" Babe complained.

"Sorry, Heffron. I really gotta head out." She squeezed his bicep briefly when she walked past him. "You better not be late, Compton!" She yelled as a form of goodbye before waving at the boys filling the English bar, now a bit less merry. At least for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

"M'kay what else do we need?" I asked Gene, my trusted pencil in hand to write down the supplies needed on the back of a photograph.

"What d'you have so far?"

"Uhm... Morphine," I listed, raising a finger. "bandages, three pairs of scissors,"

"Sulfa powder." He added, going through the boxes we had left.

"Sulfa... powder..." I muttered with knitted eyebrows while I noted the words. "Anything else?"

"Let me check—" The medic stood up in his foxhole, his attention caught on a particular voice coming from our left. "Ain't that—"

"Yes it is. Fuck." I handed Eugene the photograph and climbed out the dug out patch on the frozen ground. A part of us expected to be wrong, but of course not. What had initially been tentative steps turned into fast stalking. "Are you kidding me?"

George's laugh died down and a wave of 'shit's came out of the group of veterans surrounding him, who quickly spread out.

"Missed me much?" The attempted playfulness was charged with masked fear. He let out a yelp when I grasped his forearm and dragged him away from curious ears. "What's that for?"

"Don't you dare act stupid." I hissed with a menacing index finger up at his face.

"Okay, Y/n, listen—"

"You went AWOL in this state. I'm not listening to any bullshit."

"Oh, c'mon" the dismissive eye roll only made me fume even more. "We've all done that."

"It's not the same."

"How."

"You're. Not. Okay. George."

"Oh and you are?!" I sushed him when he inevitably rose his tone at me, clearly forgetting we didn't know exactly how close we were to the Germans. "Breaking news, Y/n/n!" The belligerent tone in which my nickname had come out sounded so unnatural. "no one's okay!"

"Winters is expecting my final advice."

"On what?"

"On whether to pull you back or not." His mouth opened in agape, betrayal reflected all over him. "I wasn't bluffing when I said I'd get you out." There was a finality in my words, one that neither of us liked.

Since the current situation seemed to be leading to the one which had place in the aid station a couple of days prior, I turned heel and attempted to leave.

"Y/n wait—" George's digits yanked back the sleeve of my coat. "I don't want out!" His throat suffered from the rasping.

"Then why does it look like you do?"

I should have stopped pushing.

"YOU DIDN'T SEE IT!" He exchanged the whisper-shouts for a loud cry filled with anger and frustration and something that made his chocolate brown irises water.

"SHHHH!"

"DON'T SHUSH ME!" He was losing it. It wasn't the yelling that gave it away, but the push on my shoulder.

I shouldn't have, but I myself didn't have much patience left in me. Against better judgement, My gloves found the lapels of his coat and shoved him back against a nearby tree. "I don't wanna get shot, George, so tone it down." The softness in my pitch came out as a hard contrast to my actions.

It did the trick, though. After a gulp and a deep breath, George's tone lowered. "You didn't see it? Okay? No one saw— I- They- " My hands abandoned him in order to offer some space, hoping that would help him articulate his thoughts better. "There was noth- nothing left!"

"What's-" I tilted my head to the side, trying to make sense out of the unfinished sentences. "What d'you mean w—"

"And I was right there!" He pushed himself off the tree, an index pointing at his chest violently. "I had to see it! Right in front of me!"

"George, you need to slow down-" my palms raised in surrender, ready to grab the technician if necessary.

The tension he was building up made both of our hearts pound faster each passing second for more than one reason.

"First Toye and... And then that happened and I-I had to dig out the fuckin'- the goddamn cross! I was- There were... Parts of 'em—"

Oh.

"It was... I was looking for it all over and... it was all mushy and I don't know if it was... Dirt or... Jesus..." The man took a step back, consciously or not and his legs seemed to falter ever so slightly.

"Okay, I got you." clasping his forearms with all my might, I helped him hold himself upright, not without some staggering. "I need you to breathe, okay?" My eyes searched for his, unwilling to meet mines. So that was what had been happening.

"I don't want out." He stated with a shake of his head, making a single strand of hair wobble over his forehead. "I don't get to leave."

Sigh.

"Muck and Penkala," he flinched at the mention of their names. "They'd want you to leave."

"You don't know that." It was a murmur, much less intended to be said out loud than the question that followed it. "Do you want me to leave?"

No.

"I just don't want you dead."

"That wasn't the question."

I don't want you to leave me here. Alone.

"For god's sake George—"

"Why do you want me away so badly?" There was a sort of plea in the question, one that was breaking my heart. "Did you get tired of me?"

I love you.

"That's not—"

"If you're done with my bullshit I can just ask to switch platoons."

I love you.

"George I'm telling you—" I groaned, letting go of him. "it's not about that."

"Well whatever it is, I can just switch to second,"

"George."

I love you.

"they're short on people anyway."

I love you.

"I don't need you to switch platoons."

"Then what the hell do you need?"

I love you.

"I need you to be careful!" Now it was me who needed to be sushed. "You're gonna get yourself killed. And you're gonna get me killed!"

That hit a nerve.

With regained strength, George shortened the distance I had just put between us in order to try and breathe, a task that seemed to become more difficult each passing second.

"Then stop sticking out for me!"

I love you.

"It's not that simple!"

"Why not?"

"I love you! You idiot." Lucky me, Luz was way too perplexed to tease me about the red tinge bringing life to my cheeks. "I can't just... look away if you're doing something stupid."

Maybe I would have preferred the teasing over his unresponsive behavior. Yeah, I would have rather had a cheeky grin lighting up his face, instead of the lividness washing him out.

"I don't need you moved to another platoon," I attempted to redirect the conversation to a less pathetic outcome, and George didn't seem to oppose. "I just need you to be careful and take care of yourself." Still no response; my heart sunk deeper if that was even possible. "I've lost too many friends already. Can't lose another one."

"How long?"

"What'd you mean?"

"How long have you known?"

"I don't know." I folded my arms and recoiled from the man in front of me, actively avoiding to meet his gaze. "I think... Maybe Normandy. When we regrouped."

Normandy, D-Day plus 3

"Look who decided to show up, Floyd!" Luz and Liebgott went straight to the Sergeant walking a few steps ahead of me and Shifty, ready to compare their trophies and souvenirs.

It wasn't until Talbert folded his newly acquired poncho that the boys became aware of us.

"Well, would you look at that." Lieb smacked George's shoulder with the back of his hand before nodding in my direction.

"Sorry fellas," Floyd feigned an apology. "But I figured I just couldn't show up without our medic. Right, Luz?"

If there was a situation in which George would not match the banter thrown at him, that was the one. Instead, he stood still with widened eyes.

"What? Cat's got your tongue?" I questioned, approaching the group with the sniper trailing after me.

"Oh, she bites now." Lieb snickered. "That's fun."

Still no response from Luz, apart from the shocked expression. I was about to taunt him again when he shoved Tab aside and engulfed me in a hug, one that took me a hot second to reciprocate.

"Where the hell have you been?" He limited himself to ask, breath fanning on the crook of my neck.

"Missed the DZ by four miles." My explanation sounded restrained due to the tight embrace. "Took a while to walk 'em."

"Thought you didn't make it." He murmured, this time only for me to hear. "If you scare me like that again I'll kill ya."

Peeking over his shoulder, I caught the knowing eyes of our comrades. Either Luz was unaware or didn't care enough. I myself had other things to focus on, such as the butterflies in my tummy or the scary feeling swelling up my heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why didn't you tell me?" His question hid something I couldn't quite decipher, although the gleam in his eyes could be worked out as a clue.

I shrugged, trying to play off the conversation I had been avoiding for months due to fear. "Why would I?"

He shrugged too, and, after opening his mouth a couple of times without getting a word out, I assume he was at a loss for words.

"I feel like we went off the topic here." I stated, once more trying to redirect the conversation, and once more failing to do so.

"Did you mean it?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I inhaled deeply. George Luz really had a gift for driving me mad. "Can we move on from that? 'Cause at this point we're dragging the conversation and I'm-"

"You should've told me earlier."

I finally met his eyes with an exasperated look.

"Would that change anything?"

"I could've done something about it."

"Like what?"

He hesitated for a moment, darting a quick glance at my lips I nearly didn't catch before closing the space between us, his hands cupping my cheeks with a featherlight touch.

Just like in Normandy, it took me a moment to react; only that this time I wasn't fast enough and George slipped away from my grasp and took a step back.

"Where d'you think you're going?" I snapped, once again clutching his coat, this time for a very different purpose than minutes ago.

As my mouth found his again, deepening the kiss with my fingers entangled in his unusually long locks and the sides of my coat bunched up in his fists, I wondered if I had really found out I loved him in Normandy.

All from sudden, the feeling that I had known it from the very first corny pick-up line he had thrown at me back in Toccoa washed over me.

Either by the long awaited kiss or by the overwhelming emotions, it was my turn to pull away in order to catch my breath.

"Could've saved me a lot of teasing, y'know?" He mumbled, letting his forehead rest on mine for an instant. "Having everyone and their mother poking fun at me was pretty embarrassing."

"You really are an idiot."

That tore a quiet laugh out of him. A genuine one. It seemed to be so long since that had happened.

"I love you too, by the way."

"Oh, I think I got the memo."

Another laugh. His stupid grin. His cheeky demeanor. All of it made him lit up a little bit. My thumb caressed his face, and it occurred to me that maybe what George Luz really needed was to feel loved.

Lucky him, I wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon.

[hirayalore]

this is absolutely nerve-wracking. you don’t even know why you agreed to be on this side of the team in the first place, knowing that you would be better in the field (being an aspiring auror and a good one at that), and is quite perhaps the human personification of the word ‘impatience’ when it came to situations like these.

though yet again, it was GEORGE WEASLEY who made you promise that you weren’t going to volunteer to be a potter duplicate for the said chosen one’s safe travel to the burrow—the place you’re already in at the moment as he reckoned that it was enough that he had to worry about his father and brothers being with him for the task; he didn’t want to be preoccupied thinking about whether his girlfriend was managing herself well too.

“i’ll be careful,” george promised you before the both of you parted earlier, a kiss planted on your forehead, “i’ll meet you at the burrow, safe and sound, alright?”

you only nodded, not knowing what to do or say. you wanted to stop him from leaving, to convince him that it was too dangerous. however, you also knew that it was selfish of you to do so, considering that what he was going to do was not only for the betterment of harry potter himself, but possibly the whole wizarding world.

a loud sound of crashing coming from the front yard pushes you out of your trance and you stand up from your seat to run outside, quickly followed by ginny who has been quiet and pacing around the house in anxiety before she heard the crash too.

it’s hagrid and harry—the real harry you presume as ginny launches towards him so that they could embrace. you let out a breath, relieved that he’s here unharmed, but admittedly not relieved enough as there is  still no sign of george.

though as if on cue, two men suddenly appear on the right side of the lawn via apparition and you recognize them to be remus and george immediately, with the latter being supported by the former.

it dawns on you that george is injured, your eyes focusing on the side of his head that is bleeding.

“i’m good, i’m all good,” are the first words he utters to you once you’re close, grabbing his other arm so you and remus can carry him to the burrow together.

you can’t bring yourself to reply. your heart is thumping so hard inside your chest that you feel like you’re going to shut down any second now. the only thing that’s keeping you from going into full panic mode is how he at least has the strength to stay conscious and talk to you still as he’s being led to the sofa, a fact that convinces your brain that he’s nowhere near danger now.

once he’s laid there, remus approaches harry to check on him while you take the liberty to rush to get some medical supplies that could help george’s condition.

molly then tends to him, brushing his hair and whispering thanks that he didn’t arrive in a worse condition, before she goes to you and says that you can be in charge of george as she waits for her other family members’ arrival.

“sweetheart,” george murmurs, staring at you as you kneel beside him and take out a bunch of bandages and some healing potion to help with his blown up ear, “i’m fine, i promise.”

still, no sentence escapes from your lips. you remain busy, just rummaging through the medical kit even though you’ve already got what you needed. annoyance is bubbling inside of you because of what he just said, but you don’t show it, aware that it might be ridiculous to do so as it isn’t like george wished to get himself hurt. 

“sweetie,” he repeats, voice hoarse and tone more pleading, “look at me, will you?”

you don’t oblige. you just zip the bag close and place it on the floor.

“____.” he calls your name, stern and demanding now with a hand holding your wrist to stop you from moving too much.

you finally look at him, his eyes turning soft at the way yours started to water.

you’re a strong girl, he knows that, and you don’t like showing vulnerability to anyone or in any circumstances unless it greatly affected you—and judging by how you’re forcing yourself not to cry or show too much emotion because of what happened to him, it’s clear that you’re so affected by this and that he made you worry so much to the point of wanting to sob.

“i’m okay,” he says again, bringing your wrist over his chest, just so your palm can rest on where you can feel his heart the most, “it’s still beating for you, darling. can’t you feel it?”

you inhale sharply, a lame attempt to stop yourself from fully crying, and nod. “i feel it.”

“it’s just my ear that was messed up. nothing to be alarmed about.”

“don’t be ridiculous. this is still worth being alarmed about.”

“but it’s just an ear.”

“it’s still an ear, george.”

“yeah—but i’ve got another one.”

you close your eyes momentarily.

there really is no point in arguing with this man.

“whatever,” you exhale, shaking off the annoyance away once more, “let’s see what i can do for your—”

you’re supposed to pull your hand away from his chest to start examining him thoroughly but he stops you, keeping your palm in place.

“what?” you ask.

he looks extremely serious as he says his next sentence. “give me a kiss.”

“a kiss?” you repeat.

“a kiss, yes.”

you scoff. “george, you’re still bleeding and—”

“just one, please,” he cuts you off once more, the one impatient now. “look, i… i thought i almost didn’t make it, okay? then i kept thinking what if it really was the end of it all, and then i remembered i only kissed you on the forehead before i left, and that would’ve been the last kiss you had from me.”

he truly has a peculiar mind. out of all the possible things to think of when one is perhaps on the brink of death, all he thinks about is that he never gave you a proper kiss on the lips.

“you’re a bloody idiot, darling,” you say, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips like requested, a gesture that he receives with a contented sigh, “and quite literally too, that is.”

you give him another kiss, this one fuller and with george placing a hand on your back to press you further towards him.

it’s only when the both of you hear fred cough that you pull away, glancing behind you to see his twin brother looking at him with worry.

“sorry to steal him away from you, ____,” fred says as you stand up, getting the hint and giving him permission to go to your previous spot. “just have to check on this clumsy git and then he’s all yours again.”

you chuckle, hugging fred quickly too in gratefulness because he arrived fine as well, before going to the kitchen and preparing something for the whole lot to eat with molly.

as you wait for the water to boil for some tea, you lean on the counter and gaze towards george who’s still conversing with fred.

the moment your eyes meet for a brief second, he has the nerve to wink.

you smile.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ reposted from my other account !

[rainydayathogwarts]

Bloody quills and teary eyes - George weasley x potter!reader

summary: george comforts you after your first detention with umbridge wc: 0.7k+

George tapped his foot on the floor in front of him tirelessly, his homework lain untouched on the table. Fred and Ron played a quiet game of chess, with the occasional comment thrown, and Hermione’s face was dug in a book. You and Harry? Well, the Potter siblings just always seemed to be in detention, and today was no different. The portrait to the common room swung open and Harry walked in, quick footsteps beelining him straight to his dorm giving away his poor mood. George looked back and forth between the closing portrait and your brother, wondering where you had to be. 

Ginny trudged down the stairs, footsteps attracting Ron’s attention. While Ron was turning away from her and back to the game, he caught sight of George, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“You alright George?” He asked, pulling Fred’s attention from the game. “Yeah. She said she’d meet me back here after detention but Harry just came back alone.” Ginny plopped down on the couch next to him, offering him a candy. He declined. “She being the missus?” Ginny asked, chewing slowly. George nodded. “She’s by the Black Lake. I could see her from the window in my dorm.” She explained, watching her brother’s reaction carefully. The Black Lake was never a positive place to be on a cold, dark afternoon, and especially not after a detention. George stood up, ready to come find you when the portrait swung open once more.

Your focus was solely on that awful Umbridge woman’s face. If you could turn around right now, you’d go and beat her up, but unfortunately your stronger hand seemed to be injured. You thought sitting by the Black Lake would help you calm down, and momentarily, it had, allowing you to shed a few silent tears. But the second you began your trek back to the common room, your blood boiled with anger once more. Through teary eyes, you found your path up to your dorm, slamming the door shut behind you before slumping down on the floor against your bed. You brought your hands to your face, and immediately, your chest wracked with a painful sob.

George stared at the corner you disappeared behind from where he was stood, hearing the loud slam of your door all the way down to the common room. “How awful was that detention?” Questioned Hermione, a concerned look on her face. George ignored her, following you up to your dorm. He gently knocked on your door three times, listening for your call to come in, but it never came. Instead, he received a “Go away!” and he felt his heart break on the spot, hearing the pain in your voice.

“My love? You sound hurt, please let me comfort you.” George begged softly, resting his head against the door. He didn’t get a response, only hearing more sobs from the other side of the door, and he let himself in. “Oh sweetheart…” He started, immediately sitting down next to you and bringing you into a hug. You let George hold you close to his chest, and you cradled your hand close to yours, feeling the painful throb left by the evil witch’s blood quill. “I didn’t even check on Harry.” You cried when your sobs began to subside, wiping your tears away. “Why do you need to check on him, what happened?” You pulled away from George’s hug, meeting his eyes for the first time that night. You almost didn’t have the courage to tell him. You swallowed harshly, putting your hand up to show him the dried blood on your hand spelling out ‘I must not question authority.’ George gasped, carefully bringing your hand in his. He hand his thumb over a patch of skin where you’d desperately tried wiping your blood off, leaving a red tint to your skin.

“That bitch. I’ll tell Professor McGonagall tomorrow, she’ll do something.” He said, bringing you in a hug again. “Don’t listen to that bitch anyway. Questioning authority is what makes you stand out. Everyone just goes along with what people tell them to do, but you? You make rules of your own.” He told you. “Is that why you like me? Because I’m a rule breaker?” But you suppose you shouldn’t have asked that question because George went off telling you about all the reasons he loved you, and the last thing you heard before you fell asleep was “And one day I’m going to marry you for those reasons.”

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe

[im-trying-my-best-yall]

George Weasley simp worst nightmare just happened

currently in my dorm pulling an all-nighter and watching Easy A with some friends and during that "George is not a sexy name" and "no one wants to scream out George during climax" but my roommate

the fucking bitch

looks over at me and goes "i know someone who would gladly"

LIKE YEAH BUT YOU DO NOT NEED TO ANNOUNCE THAT TO THE ROOM

[wifelivvyx]

Hi! I love ur George Weasley fics they’re so cute can I just request a general reader fic with George about them spending time at grimmauld place together? Just very wholesome giggling and bonding thank you! <3

omg tysm!! sorry this took a few hours.. hope this is close to what you asked for!! feel free to comment if i did anything wrong or if it was correct

۶ৎ

Grimmauld Place wasn’t exactly the most cheerful location in the world, but with George Weasley around, even the dreariest corners of the old Black family home seemed a little lighter.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the dusty drawing room floor, surrounded by a mix of crumpled parchment, half-eaten biscuits, and a few enchanted trinkets George had smuggled in. A small, charmed paper bird flitted above them, occasionally dive-bombing George’s hair.

“Alright, that’s the third time you’ve attacked me,” he grumbled at the bird, swatting at it playfully. “I think your spells are getting a little too good, love.”

Y/N giggled, leaning back on her hands. “Maybe it just doesn’t like your hair. Too unruly.”

George gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “I’ll have you know this hair is a Weasley trademark. Irresistible, iconic-”

“Uncontrollable?” Y/N supplied with a teasing grin.

He huffed, flicking a bit of parchment at her. “I invite you to a cozy night of absolute nonsense, and this is how you treat me?”

“Cozy? We’re literally sitting on the floor of a house that might be haunted.”

“Makes it an adventure,” George said brightly, scooting a little closer. “And besides, I’d say we’re making it rather cozy. We’ve got snacks, mischief, and, most importantly, me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Oh, of course. You make everything better, don’t you?”

“As a matter of fact,” he said, nudging her shoulder with his, “I do.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the occasional snap and crackle of the low-burning fireplace. The house felt less oppressive like this - just the two of them, away from the worries of the outside world.

George suddenly poked her side, making her yelp. “What was that for?” she asked, swatting at his hand.

“You looked too peaceful. Thought I’d spice things up.”

“Oh, you’re asking for it now,” she warned before launching a counterattack, tickling his ribs.

George let out a loud, undignified laugh, squirming away. “Oi! No fair, I-”

“Say mercy!”

“Never!”

Their laughter filled the room, echoing off the old walls until they finally collapsed in a heap, breathless and grinning.

As they lay there, George turned his head to look at her, his smile softening. “You know,” he said, voice quieter now, “I really like nights like this.”

Y/N glanced over, meeting his warm gaze. “Me too.”

“Good,” he said, reaching over to flick a stray bit of dust from her cheek. “Because I think we should make a habit of it.”

She smiled, nudging him playfully. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

And as they lay there, surrounded by half-eaten biscuits and laughter lingering in the air, Grimmauld Place didn’t feel so dark after all.

[ador3him]

Headcanon of DreamTeam with a girlfriend with large breasts

Like, Sapnap loves to massage them like stress balls, Dream always wanting his face buried between them because of how soft they are, and George blatantly staring at them thinking about how much he'd like to have one in his mouth

I gotta say, it took me like 30 minutes to finally come up with this because so many stories were coming to mind 😭

-🦝

pairing: dream team x bigtittie!reader

requested? YASSSS by 🦝 my beloved

authors note: the way imma describe breasts is gonna be vulgar asf cause I'm Aussie so womp womp. As these are just gonna be small blurb/brianrotty things

---------------------------------------------------

DREAM

"baby," dream whined as yn walked around the bedroom getting ready for bed. "what's up dreamie?" she asks as she walks into the walk in the wardrobe to change. "c'mere, I want my pillows," he pleaded. "I'm coming!" she laughed coming out of the wardrobe and hopped into their shared bed. dream laid his head onto her tits and nuzzled into head getting comfy. he used on hand to grab one of them softly holding it. "your so silly," she laughed playing with his hair. "your knockers are so comfy," he mumbled. Yn softly wacked him. "knockers? really?" She asked. dream hummed in response and placed a kiss on her covered tits.

GEORGE

George, sapnap, dream and yn were sitting out at the pool. yn got up from her sunbed and took off her cover revealing her bikini. her bikini top left nothing to the imagination and George couldn't stop ogling her boobs. she made her way into the pool and went under getting herself fully went. "take a picture it will last longer," yn teased. "what?" George's face brightened at the comment and looked away. She moved to the wall of the pool and lifted herself up revealing her wet tits. George's eyes made their way back down to her boobs. Sapnap and dream were laughing at the interaction. "your not discrete," she moved back and sunk underwater again and floated back up her breasts wet again.

SAPNAP

Sapnap and yn sat on the couch cuddling. his eyes were on his phone and yns were on the tv as a show was playing. his hands were under her shirt holding her tits. Dream and George walked in to see the couple in an intimate moment. "Oh sorry," Dream said as he looked over at the two. "What?" Sapnap asked looking up at his two best friends, his hand squeezing yn tit harder. "you guys are.." George motioned to sapnap's hand. "you're fine, he always does this. he finds it soothing," yn laughed. "it really is, try," sapnap said removing his hand. "Sapnap!" Yn gasped pulling the blanket that laid over them up to protect herself.

[toomuchracket]

family dinner (sweetheart!george x reader fluff)

part of promptober75 2024!! a cute little fic set just after you and george have reunited, with cameos from everyone's favourite flatmates. enjoy <3

“more wine?”

“please,” you smile at your friend - as politely as you can through a mouthful of bread, that is - as she tops up your glass. “this chicken is really nice, by the way. the whole evening is, actually - thanks for letting me intrude on it, guys.”

matty scoffs. “you're not intruding, mate. we missed you! why wouldn't we wanna spend time with you? right, darlin?”

he nudges his girlfriend, who nods enthusiastically. “of course. i’m so glad you agreed to eat with us tonight,” she nudges matty in return, grinning, and you watch, also grinning, as he kisses her nose. “i've missed flatmate friday dinners. they're so special to me.”

“i did quite like when it was just the two of us, though,” matty caresses her face; a beat later, he sits bolt upright and looks at you, panic-stricken, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the familiarity of the expression. “i didn't mean it like that, by the way, i just meant that-”

“you liked pretending that you were having date night before you were actually together?” you nod sympathetically as matty goes scarlet. “oh, you've not changed a bit, matty, you lovelorn little sap.”

he hides his face in his hands, voice muffled. “shut up.”

“no, keep going,” his girlfriend laughs, wrapping her arms around him and pressing a kiss to his head. “i like hearing about how much you fancied me before you finally cracked and admitted it. after, y'know, seven fucking years, baby.”

“oh, babe, it was serious,” you dramatically take a sip of your wine, gazing off into the distance as you recount one of your many memories of matty being hopelessly in love with her, while the boy in question groans. “the time he broke into george's at half six in the morning and quite literally wriggled between us in bed so he could analyse the ten-minute phone call you'd had the night before is a personal favourite of mine.”

your friend throws her head back, cackling, while matty sits up just to scowl at you. “i didn't break in - i used the spare key.”

his girlfriend snorts. “but you did wriggle between them? in bed?”

“well, yeah.”

“cockblocked us and all,” you pipe up.

“you were literally fully clothed and dead asleep. both of you.”

“george was fully clothed?” your friend's brow furrows. “was he ill?”

“dunno. i didn't talk to him, really, in that instance,” matty nods at you. “she was the only one who knew everything about how i felt. even when she moved away.”

“really?”

you nod. “really. so, y'know, getting to see the two of you together like this… it's really special,” you take another drink of wine, sighing contentedly. “i love love.”

matty laughs, reaching across to squeeze your hand. “how's your love life going, by the way? any developments to share?”

you sigh, taking a long drink of wine as you ponder your response; you could be honest, and say really bloody good. george and i are back together. but no - better to discuss that with him first. “it's… promising, i think. that guy i've been seeing, well, he and i are exclusive, now.”

“oh, amazing!” your friend claps excitedly. “i want to meet him. oh!” her face lights up, and it becomes glaringly obvious both why matty fell in love with her and just how much you missed her when you were away. “he should come to friday dinner next week. or the week after. just so he can meet us properly, you know?”

matty laughs. “alright, emily gilmore.”

“fuck off, matthew,” she rolls her eyes while you and matty giggle, smiling at you once the glee subsides. “seriously, though, you should bring him. we don't bite.”

her boyfriend raises a brow. “the marks on my collarbone would like a word.”

“matthew, for fuck's sake,” she shakes her head, as you do your best not to spit out your wine laughing. “sorry, babe. promise i'll have him housebroken soon, and you can invite your man over.”

“oh, he won't mind,” because he's known matty longer than either of us have. “i'll text him now and ask, yeah?”

“please do.”

you nod, sliding your phone out of your pocket and tapping onto your text thread with george. you've been formally invited for dinner at the flat next friday btw. well, the mysterious person i've just gone exclusive with has lol

he replies almost instantly, cry-laughing emojis preceding have i to dress up?

you: suit. tie is optional xxx

george: oh you'd love that wouldn't you, i remember you after prom 😈

fr tho have i to dress up

you: nah

you DO have to be on time tho. 6pm on the dot

george: sweet

can i stay over lol

you: if you're good x

george: what you talking about i'm always good for you

but yeah i'll be there

phone me later?

you: defo. ly <3

george: ly2 <3

you giggle as you lay your phone down; matty notices, and smirks. “good news?”

“he'll be here at 6 next week,” you can't help smiling when they cheer, but you shush them so you can keep talking. “and you both better be nice to him. like, normal-nice.”

your friend nods. “of course.”

“s'not you i'm worried about, babe,” you turn to her boyfriend, looking him dead in the eye. “please, matty, don't be fucking weird next week. i don't wanna fuck this up,” you catch yourself before again slips out. “i really like this one.”

“all the more reason to ask him what his intentions are with you, then,” matty shrugs - his face softens when he sees your fraught expression, and he reaches across to hold your hand again. “i am joking, by the way, darling. i'll be nice. you know i just want you to be happy, yeah? we both do.”

“yeah, i know,” you squeeze his hand. “i hope next week goes well.”

“it will. here, let me get you more wine.”

the rest of the meal passes without further mention of next week, save your friend asking what sort of food your new partner likes. given that she and matty are too busy gazing lovingly at each other to think logically, neither of them seem to realise you're rhyming off george's favourites and least favourites in your reply, which is common knowledge to everyone who's ever spent five minutes trying to decide on a takeaway to order from with him; in fact, you think you've managed to completely dispel any connections between the upcoming dinner and george at all, until you're settled in your room an hour and a half later and your tv watching is interrupted by a knock at the door.

at your word, your friend inches round the doorframe, ring binder in hand. “hey. d'you have a minute?”

“course,” you mute the tv, pulling yourself out of your blanket tangle. “what's up?”

she sighs, waving the folder. “work stuff. how good's your latin?”

“shite. you used to help me, remember?”

“fuck, you're right,” she laughs, dragging her free hand down her face. “work's melting my head, honestly.”

you pat the space on the bed beside you. “can take your mind off of it by watching this with me, if you like.”

she steps further into the room, brow furrowing. “what even are you… oh my god,” the folder thwacks against the mattress, forgotten as she clambers onto the bed beside you and sighs at the screen; the déja vu of the moment is so strong you have to blink a few times to remember what year you're actually in. “i haven't watched the o.c. in so long.”

“really? you were obsessed.”

“shut up, you were worse than i was,” she lightly smacks you on the shoulder, then rests her head on it. you don't have to look at her to know that she's smiling when she next speaks. “reckon we used to drive the boys mental with this, you know.”

“we did. george actually banned me from saying the words ‘seth cohen’ at one point.”

“fuck off,” she giggles, the sound fading into a hum. “i think matty preferred him in gilmore girls, to be honest.”

you roll your eyes. “of course he fucking did. being in a band and making a girlfriend out of a friend because of it? that was, like, his biggest dream,” your voice softens, and you nudge her. “he's loved you a really fucking long time, you know.”

“yeah. me too, you know, with him.”

the confirmation makes your heart glow - still, you can't resist poking fun. “and yet you told me fuck all.”

“i was worried you'd tell george! and he'd tell matty! and… well, we might've ended up like this a lot sooner, actually,” she huffs out a laugh, while you giggle at the way her defensiveness faded to acceptance in the span of about a second. suddenly, though, she turns to look at you properly, face serious. “speaking of him, by the way - does he actually know you're seeing someone?”

you chew the inside of your cheek as you deliberate on the best answer, teeth finding the scar tissue left over from the wire of the braces you had at thirteen as they've always done since then; the irony of returning to an imprint from your teenage years in this moment isn't lost on you. with as casual a shrug as you can muster, you reply. “i've brought it up to him.”

“how'd he take it?”

this one is easier to answer. “well, you know george, he keeps things close to his chest. but,” you shuffle position slightly, a means of distracting your friend from the grin you know you're doing a dreadful job of biting back. “he seemed happy. for me, you know,” you tag that on as an afterthought. and, because you can't resist - “he told me he's seeing someone, too, actually. early days, i think.”

“oh,” she's taken aback, it’s clear, but she recovers quickly and gives you a small smile. “well, that's good.”

you raise a brow. you know her better than this. “but…”

she sighs. “but… alright, just hear me out, yeah? promise?”

“promise.”

“good,” she exhales, playing with her necklace the way she's always done when she's nervous. “you know i love you, and i am so glad you're back - we all are, we missed you so much - and i'm also really glad you're happy, and that you're seeing someone. it's just that, well,” she grimaces. “i'm worried about george.”

oh, bless her. “you are?”

“yeah. just, y'know, what with you back and dating and,” she cuts herself off, shaking her head. “you weren't the only friend i lost after you moved away, babe. not being with you… it fucked george up, really fucked him up. and of course i know it must've done the same to you, but…” she smiles sadly. “i didn't have to see that with you, but i did with him, and i truly, truly can't go through it again. basically,” she takes your hands in hers. “i want you to see this guy, and have fun, but to keep george in mind, yeah?”

a genuine smile finds its way onto your face. “i will, babe.”

“good. thank you,” her relief is palpable, even stronger in the way she squeezes your hand. “and i really am excited for next week, you know, dinner.”

“yeah, it'll be good.”

you're mentally repeating that to yourself with somewhat less optimism when friday night actually rolls around, though. matty's been on a mission to take the piss out of you the whole day, accompanying his frequent mentions of the dinner with a shit-eating grin and bursting into dramatic renditions of love is in the air at regular intervals, despite both you and his girlfriend yelling at him to “shut the fuck up, matthew”, and you're forced to retreat into your room just to escape him. of course, that means you're extra pernickety about your hair and outfit and makeup to the point of overdoing it, and it gets to a point where you have to sit on your hands until they go numb to stop yourself applying any more mascara.

at quarter to six, and after several texts from george telling you he's on his way and responding to your selfies with “beautiful”, you take a deep breath and shuffle out of your room towards the kitchen and your friends. matty smiles at you as you enter, which elicits a suspicious glare from you and a laugh from your friend. “relax, he's done taking the piss out of you,” she slides a glass of wine to you; you take a long, eager drink. “or at least he is if he actually wants to have sex any time in the next three weeks.”

matty rolls his eyes. “still think you're bluffing, baby, there's no way you can go without me that long.”

you grimace, and she smiles coolly at her boyfriend. “wanna risk it and find out?”

his cheeks go scarlet, voice going small. “no.”

“s'what i thought,” she ruffles his hair, turning to you and beaming. “you look hot, babe. really hot.”

“oh, thanks,” you tug awkwardly at the hem of your dress. “i hope he likes it.”

matty smiles, genuinely. “he will, darling.”

you smile, just as your phone buzzes - looking down, you see it's george, with an i'm outside. and really fucking nervous lol. buzz me up pls. “well, we're about to find out.”

“he's here?” matty bolts out of the room without waiting for a reply, and you hear the quick ring of the external door and the click-buzz of him responding. his girlfriend sighs, holding her arm out to you; wordlessly, you loop yours through it, and the two of you follow matty to the front door, a strange cocktail of excitement and apprehension mixing itself in the pit of your stomach.

and then the door goes. and then matty opens it. and then you see george, standing as bashfully as his height allows, and all the fear in your body dissipates completely.

you stay silent, biting back a grin. your friend sucks in an almost-inaudible shocked gasp, arm tensing in your own. matty's the one to greet his best friend, bewilderment tinting his otherwise cheerful voice. “oh, hi g. what are you doing here? just round to hang out?”

george grins. “sort of. i got a text last week inviting me over,” he nods at you. “it was 6 you said to be here for, yeah, angel?”

“on the dot. perfect timing, babe,” you wander down the hall towards him, tugging your seemingly-frozen-in-shock friend past her equally-shocked boyfriend, leaning up to kiss your own boyfriend's cheek. “bit disappointed you didn't wear a suit like i suggested, though. but you still look fit.”

“and you look beautiful,” he kisses your head, before turning to your friends with a smirk. “you guys look a bit weird, though. you alright?”

the two of them stare blankly at your smirking faces, matty's jaw dropping more and more as realisation presumably sinks in; it's his other half who speaks first, though, dropping your arm so she can slowly point between you and george. “this… is this… real?”

“you mean is george the person you're meeting as my date tonight? the person i just went exclusive with?” you smile so widely your cheeks ache, snuggling into him and practically fizzing with glee when his arm wraps around your waist. “who the fuck else would it be, really?”

a beat passes, then all hell breaks loose - matty actually bursts into tears, and his girlfriend slaps you on the arm. “you! you dickhead!”

“ow!” you rub your stinging arm. “what the fuck was that for?”

“for not fucking telling me!” she hits you again, softer this time, before tugging you and george into a hug, soundtracked by matty sniffling in the corner. “you fucking idiots. i love you,” she releases you both, tears filling her own eyes, and then pulls you into another hug, just the two of you. “m'sorry for hitting you, babe.”

“and for being a hypocrite?”

she laughs, watery. “that too,” keeping an arm around you, she wraps the other around her boyfriend. “why the tears, my darling?”

he sniffles, wiping his tears and looking between you and george; a weak gesture follows, as if emotion has completely overwhelmed him. “just… they're back.”

“and so are your nightmares?” george quips, resting his head atop yours.

matty shakes his head frantically, tears threatening to flood over his lashes again. “no, george, of course not. s'just,” he sniffles again, reaching for george's shoulder so the four of you are in a strange sort-of huddle. it's not unpleasant, though, far from it. “we all wanted this for ages, you know? the two of us together, the two of you together… and now it's real. and i'm just so happy.”

he collapses into sobs again, falling forward dramatically; given the geography of the huddle, it's up to you to catch him, so you hug him gently and pat him on the back. “you really are a sap, matty,” you huff out a laugh, half-formed because of the lump in your throat. “but we love you for it. and you're right, y'know - we really have all wanted this for a while,” you let go of your friend, steadying him before turning and wrapping your arms around george. “i love you. i'm so glad you agreed to come over.”

“you know i'd do anything for you,” he presses his lips to yours, and you melt; you're vaguely aware of your friends cheering in the background, but aside from that everything is just george, george, george. “i love you,” he pulls back. “and i love you two as well. slightly less than i do her, but…”

matty scoffs. “traitor. but whatever,” he sighs, face lifting into a smile as he turns towards the kitchen. “follow me, lovebirds. we've got some catching up to do.”

you wince. “please don't call it that.”

“what? why?”

“because that's what george and i have been calling our hookup sessions since i got back, that's why.”

your boyfriend and friend both giggle, while matty turns to look at you in affront. “wait a fucking minute. every time you went out and said you were catching up with people, you were just going to shag him?”

george smirks. “too fucking right she was.”

“christ alive,” matty shakes his head. “there had better be none of that tonight, you hear me? i'm not wearing earplugs to bed just to avoid listening to you guys fuck. heard enough of that in my life, thanks,” he reaches into the fridge for the champagne you stashed there earlier; when he returns, his face is bright in the way you've come to recognise as his i've got an idea that i think is great but is actually fucking awful mode. “actually…”

his girlfriend groans, the expression on her other half's face familiar to her too. “don't, matty.”

“no, let him talk,” george is perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, his best friend's face not a deterrent for him. the fucking pair of them, honestly. “tell us, mate.”

“well, how about a bet?” matty's eyes are locked onto george's; dread begins to build in your stomach out of sheer habit. “person who gets their girl off most times tonight gets free weed from the other. for a month.”

it's not the worst idea he's had, by any means - honestly, you'll take as many orgasms from george as you can get - but it still warrants a facepalm from both you and your friend. you sigh. “i don't think…”

“and how would we know the other isn't lying about the number?” george is incredibly still, hyper-focused; quite sexy, if you're being honest. “you thought about that?”

matty nods. “the girls write it on a bit of paper each and sign it, without conferring, and then we swap them and reveal.”

“for fuck's sake,” his girlfriend nudges him. “matty, don't be fucking stupid, there's no way…”

george just smirks, cutting her off. “alright, then. game on.”