Love Thy Enemy

Hellooooo!

Absolutely obsessed with your blog and writing!! *chef’s kiss*

I was wondering if you could write something where the reader/OFC is the concubine of Paul Atredies and is tasked with giving him an heir which Paul is happy about. The reader/OFC is scared, so Paul being a dominant helps her through her first time and finds out she has a kink.

Okay so I have tweaked this a bit, I hope that’s okay. And I’m sorry this took so long

The Heart of a Bene Gesserit- Part One//Paul Atreides

Reverend Mother Helen Gohiam had tasked you with bearing the heir of House Atreides. You knew that it was not to prolong the Atreides line, per se. It was well known that the Bene Gesserit had deemed the Atreides as “too defiant” and “dangerous,” which was why the Reverend Mother counseled Emperor Shaddam IV to extinguish the Atreides when they settled onto Arrakis.

But it had come to light that Paul Atreides, the Duke Leto’s son, along with the boy's mother Lady Jessica, were still alive. Paul had spent months and months in the desert, fighting alongside the Fremen in the war against the Harkonnens, eventually becoming a leader among the Fremen, known as Muad’Dib.

In the end of his plot for vengence, Paul confronted the Emperor Shaddam IV, where the old man admitted to killing his father. The Great Houses were subsequently informed about the Emperor's part in the fall of House Atreides and the Corrino family lost the throne forever. Paul Muad’Dib Atreides became the new Emperor of the Known Universe.

The Reverend Mother Mohiam was a witness to all of it, and she knew without any doubt that Paul was the long-awaited Kwizatz Haderach. The male Bene Gesserit bred to bridge space and time had been born a generation early.

Paul had taken the Water of Life. A ritual tasked only to Reverend Mothers; the Water of Life was lethal to men. Paul not only survived, but he had seen the past, and in turn his possible futures. He had the ultimate power, the likes of which the world had never seen before.

Thousands of years had been dedicated to bringing forth The One, you knew this just as well as anyone. You were Bene Gesserit. The sisterhood was intent on saving the bloodline of the Kwizatz Haderach. And it was through you that they wanted to see it thus. You were to seduce Paul.

Luckily, you had known Paul since you were children. You were born on Caladan, and your parents worked for the Atreides. Your father was a soldier under Duke Leto and your mother a housekeeper that worked directly with Lady Jessica.

You spent a lot of time in the Caladan castle growing up, and you could remember seeing and talking to young Paul back then. You weren’t allowed to play together as typical children, but you did discuss books, history, and languages. Paul would even show you how he had been trained to fight by Gurney Halleck and Duncan Idaho, as well as his Bene Gesserit mother.

Paul would teach you what he had learned, and this was as close to play as you would get. You were taken away for your own training when you were still young. You were incredibly sad to leave your family and Paul. It was difficult to leave your only friend. You wondered if it was an equal struggle for Paul, the lonely son of a Duke.

Even as a child, you always thought Paul was handsome, kind, and thoughtful, but those days were long ago. He was now the emperor with the weight of the universe on his shoulders. He had no time to grieve his father when he was killed. He and his mother had been dumped in the desert to die. To survive, he had fought in a war against the sadistic Harkonnens.

On top of it all, he had essentially lost his mother, she was no longer the woman who had raised him, she was a Revend Mother herself who thought only of the Lisan Al Gaib prophecy. She didn't see him as her son, Paul, not anymore. This was a hardened man you would be dealing with, not a precocious young son of royalty.

..........

When you arrived on Arrakis, you knew that Paul would be privy to Bene Gesserit tricks, so you would not be effective if you used your training to seduce him. Not that you even wanted to. You really cared for Paul. Though you hadn't seen each other in years, the love you had for him had not gone away. You would use your own heart to win him over.

Word had been sent to Paul about your arrival. He had been notified before you had left for Arrakis. He did not respond to the message, but he did not deny your trip either. As Emperor he had the power to control space travel. Perhaps he was looking forward to seeing you again, but he knew that you were Bene Gesserit, and he wouldn't trust you completely because of that.

You were able to blend in and stay out of the way on your first day in the Arakeen home of the Atreides. As the sun went down, you wanted to find Paul.

One of the servants led you to the Emperor's private wing. You saw him, looking just the same as your last image of him, but taller and stronger, more grown up. His raven curls and boyish good looks were everlasting. "Your Majesty." you greeted him, bowing.

He turned, looked at you, and his face softened some, "Y/n, I've seen you in my dreams. I knew you'd come. It's great to see you, my dear old friend." he walked over to you, and his smile grew. "My, you have grown into an absolute beauty."

You were delighted when he put his arms around you in a hug, giving you a snug embrace. “You have grown too, you look strong, Paul Atreides.” you hugged him back, “I cannot believe my childhood friend is now the Emperor.”

Paul nodded, looking down, “Yes, well,” he looked back up at you, “it was the only way to avenge my father.”

“I am so sorry. What they did to your family was beyond cruel and dishonorable. Such a tragedy for you and your mother, Paul.”

“I know that your Bene Gesserit were also behind it.” he said this bluntly.

His sentence cut like a knife. Was he going to blame you? You said nothing.

“Though I know you personally had nothing to do with the massacre of my family, I simply cannot trust Bene Gesserit tricks, which I know you possess, y/n.”

“I do not intend to use any of my training on you. You are my friend, and I want to treat you as such, Paul.”

He smiled softly, “I know that you speak true. I admire you for that.” he stepped toward you, took your hand, “Everyone around me calls me, “my Lord,” or “Lisan Al Gaib. All this power I possess does not allow me to have real friends. So, I look forward to your staying here, to have someone treat me only as Paul.”

The sweet look in his eyes and the way his lips curled made you almost shiver. But you couldn’t do that in front of him. Not yet could you show weakness.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @bitchyunknownuser @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @briefkittenearthquake @jindongdongie

I need a little help for my Feyd x Reader x Paul story. I really want a name for reader rather then (your name). Yes or No? Ideas??

What about nicknames for reader? What are some nicknames Paul and Feyd should use?

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1437 words | 18+

To anyone else, it might have seemed rushed—foolish, even—to have a baby less than a year into dating. But for you and James, it felt like the most natural decision in the world. After nearly a decade of knowing him and now raising a son together, the thought of giving Henry a sibling seemed like the next step. 

Especially after he’d come home from school, buzzing with excitement as he chattered about how his friend had a baby brother who played trains with him every night—which was entirely untrue, considering Carter’s baby brother was only two months old. Still, Henry prattled on throughout dinner about siblings, listing off how many of his schoolmates had one and leaving little doubt about what he was hinting at.

You and James exchanged amused glances throughout dinner, but it wasn’t until Henry turned to you both after his bedtime story and asked, “How do I get a sibling?” that the idea started to feel like a real possibility.

Which is why you’d bought a pack of ovulation tests—just in case—and finally decided to use one when your app suggested the timing was right. When you showed James the test, you’d half-expected him to sweep you off your feet and carry you straight to bed. But he didn’t.

Instead, he reached for your face, his hands gently cradling your cheeks as his eyes searched yours. “Are you sure, my love?” he asked softly. “You really want this?”

“It’s not like we’ve been very careful, Jamie.” You had murmured, and an amused smile emerged on his lips.

“No,” he murmured, shaking his head gently. “But this—” his gaze dropped to the ovulation test still in your hand “—feels real. And I need you to be absolutely certain.”

“I am,” you whispered, nodding as you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Do you want this?”

“I’ve known I wanted a family with you for years, darling,” he had said, his voice steady and sure. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

You should have known, given how seriously James took the test, that he was going to treat tonight with the same intensity. But you weren’t prepared for just how different it would feel. 

Being with James had always been good, but this—this was something entirely different.

The way he had parted your thighs with a touch that was both gentle and impossibly intense. How his eyes had never left yours, burning with quiet hunger as he had kissed and nipped his way up from your ankles, each movement slow and deliberate, filled with a promise that had made your heart race. You had laid back on your shared bed, your body humming with anticipation, watching him through heavy-lidded eyes as desperate pleas slipped from your swollen lips, a lingering reminder of his previous kisses.

Desperation laced every movement as James slid his tongue through your folds, kissing your clit with a moan that nearly rivaled your own. He licked and sucked with a hunger that seemed to chase his own pleasure—and with the way he hummed against you, he might as well have been. He stayed there for what felt like hours, drawing out every sigh, every gasp, every pant from you. You remembered telling him he didn’t need to do this, but James, thoroughly offended, had insisted that he wanted to do this, that he didn’t want this night to be anything less than special—his tone leaving no room for argument.

But nothing compared to the way it felt when he pushed into you, his body towering over yours—one hand propped next to your head, the other gripping your knee, holding you open as he locked eyes with you. 

“Fuck, baby,” he sighs, his voice low and reverent, thick with longing. “I can’t wait to make you a mum.” His words are a soft murmur, but the promise they carry sends a shiver of anticipation through you, stirring something raw and primal deep inside. A smile tugs at his lips before he leans in, his kiss gentle yet all-consuming. “Again,” he murmurs against your mouth, the word lingering between you.

The pace he sets is agonizingly slow—so slow it almost feels torturous, each deliberate thrust stretching you out deliciously. You let out a shuddering moan, your body arching with a cry as you grip the headboard, your fingers trembling. 

Your other hand digs into his bicep, the muscle flexing and rippling beneath your touch as he moves against you with such intensity as though he’s savoring every second. His gaze never leaves yours, dark with desire, as he pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your neck with a broken moan leaving his lips. 

The image of you full with his child lingers in his mind, almost tauntingly. The thought ignites a rush of desire through his veins, leaving a scorching, simmering heat in its wake as if the very idea of it consumes him entirely.

No matter how much he wants to lose control, thrusting into your wet heat at a desperate pace—he doesn’t. He takes his time, his words a steady stream of depraved and intimate thoughts whispered into your ear, each one sending a shiver down your spine. Wrecked by him, your hand slides from his bicep to his back, feeling the taut strength of his muscles beneath your touch, and you don’t think you’ve ever wanted him more.

It feels like hours—you're certain it has—lost in the depths of pure lovemaking. There's no other word for it because, in this moment, you’ve never felt so deeply connected to another person. It’s a bond so profound, so tender, that you can’t imagine ever wanting to let go. The trust, the love, between you and James is so palpable, so consuming, that it leaves you breathless, dizzy with the intensity of it.

The room hums with the soft creak of the bed beneath you, mingling with your desperate cries—begging James to “keep going,” to do it “just like that,” your voice trembling with need. “Oh, I’m close…” you whisper, your words barely audible through the haze of sensation. James feels the shift in you when your legs begin to shake, the subtle quiver of your body telling him you're on the edge. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, burying your face in his neck, your breath ragged and uneven as you brace for the overwhelming wave of pleasure building inside you.

“James, please—” Your voice trembles, breaking on a near sob as your hand finds his cheek, your palm pressing firmly against his skin, urging him to meet your gaze. His eyes lock onto yours, and the raw desperation in them steals your breath; he looks seconds away from unraveling completely. You lean up, capturing his lips in a kiss that’s as frantic as it is tender, drawing a wrecked moan from deep within his chest. Pulling back just enough to catch your breath, your plea spills out again, softer this time but no less urgent. “Please, fill me up. I want to be full of you; I want it to take.”

You don’t know if it’s your desperate words or the way you beg him, but something shifts in James. His voice is a strained plea as he urges you to let go, to come for him, and the sound of it sends you tumbling over the edge. Your body tightens around him, fluttering and squeezing with a rhythm that’s almost too much for him to bear. A guttural curse falls from his lips as he follows you, his release overtaking him in a way that feels both overwhelming and grounding. He buries his face in the curve of your neck, his breath hot and uneven against your skin as he fills you completely.

It takes a few minutes for your breathing to steady, your body loose and warm, still tingling from the aftershocks. James's weight rests against you—not overwhelming, but comforting in a way that makes you feel completely safe.

He shifts slightly, propping himself up on his forearms to ease his weight off you, and his face hovers just above yours. His lips curl into a soft, tired smile, his hair a tousled mess that only makes him look more endearing. Leaning down, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering.

“You’re going to be the best mum.” His voice is low, rich with sincerity, each word dripping like warm honey and settling deep within your chest. You cling to the sound, his sweet words, and more than anything, you hope he’s right.

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

Election Time (1)

Summary: You thought he was your forever.

Pairing: Senator!Tony Stark x Wife!Reader, Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, language, wish for a child, betrayal, failed marriage, soft Bucky

Square filled for @buckybingo (expired): Square 7: Politics AU

You force a smile on your face and nod politely. The reporters cannot know you’re about to throw up at the thought of smiling for six more years.

Tony promised his last election campaign would be the last one. He lied, as so often. Over the years, Tony pledged to you so many things.

A quieter life. The end of his political career after six long years of having a public relationship. Children.

Your husband didn’t keep his promises, and you still didn’t get pregnant even after months of trying. The reassurance from your doctor that you’re healthy and fertile did nothing to help you keep your hopes high.

“What’s the secret of your happy marriage?” An ambitious young reporter asks. She was smiling at Tony like a love-sick puppy the whole time, and now she tries to land a punch.

Rumors about your possible infertility and Tony flirting with his election campaign manager Pepper Potts spread by Tony’s concurrent didn’t make your life easier.

“Love and devotion,” Tony answers before you get the chance to respond. “Honesty and support.” He says it without missing a beat. Ever the perfect politician—or liar—depends on if you are a reporter or his wife.

Again, you nod and smile like a perfectly trained dog. Tony grabs your hand, raising your arm with his to strike a winner pose. You wince because he forgot about the injury on your shoulder. The one you got because he wanted to try a new sex position, only to drop you.

A pair of steel-blue eyes watch Tony and you. Your bodyguard squares his jaw, watching your face contort in pain. He pushes off the wall to whisper something in the head of the security's ear.

“Senator, we should head out now,” Steve, the head of security, looks at Tony. “Sir, we are running late.”

“Right,” Tony clears his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he flashes everyone a stunning smile, “thank you for coming. I hope you vote for the right man in four weeks.”

Applause follows. It always does. Tony Stark is the kind of man drawing people in like the flame draws in the moth.

He finally drops his arm, releasing your hand. You struggle to keep a straight face and not wince again. Hiding your pain, you take deep breaths when someone holds out his hand. Bucky, your bodyguard, helps you down the tribune.

Tony is already chatting up Steve to make sure he checks every spot at the orphanage. As if anyone would try to attack your husband while he shakes the hands of some kids.

“Mrs. Senator,” Bucky chuckles when you make a face at his nickname for you. “Do you want to take the same car?”

“Not today. Tony wants to discuss his campaign with Pepper,” you shrug. It’s not unusual for you and Tony to drive in separate cars. “I can use the break, to be honest.”

“You shoulder,” Bucky softly says. He carefully touches your shoulder. “I’ve got something in the trunk to help you with that. It helps me with the scar tissue at my shoulder, too.”

“Always prepared, aren’t you?” you flash Bucky the first genuine smile. “Let’s go, Dozer.”

“That name again,” he laughs as he guides you out of the back of the building. Tony prefers to use the front entrance to bathe in applause and to give autographs. You are, as always, only an accessory to him. He forgot about you the moment he left the town.

Inside the car, you sigh deeply. It’s the first time you can breathe today. You close your eyes and take deep breaths while Bucky rubs pain gel into your skin. He kneads out the knots and kinks in your shoulders and neck.

“Hmm…you’ve got magic hands, Dozer.”

“I only ran through a door once, Y/N,” Bucky chides. “If I remember right, it was because you screamed.”

“It was a huge spider, Bucky,” you giggle when he grunts. “You threatened to shoot it.”

“I did shoot it,” he corrects while gently rubbing your skin. “You applauded and got me ice cream.”

“You saved me that day.” You smile to yourself. “And many more times since then. Not with your gun, but because you’re always there for me.”

“That’s my job.” He says, making it sound so nonchalantly. As if he doesn’t risk his life to protect you every day.

“Hmm,” you nod. “I should call Tony. He wanted to tell me which outfit to wear for the kids.”

Bucky makes a face but doesn’t say a thing. He watches you button up your blouse and presses his lips into a thin line. Bucky would never tell you so, but he despises your husband and the way he treats you.

“Tons, hey,” you huff when Tony mutters into the phone. He wanted you to call him, only to tell you he must talk to Pepper first. “Fine, just call me if you’re done.”

You drop your phone onto the seat and sigh deeply. Bucky grabs the phone to end the call when you hear Pepper’s voice. Tony must’ve forgotten to turn off the loudspeaker.

“So, are you still as happy as you pretend you are?” She asks, making you frown. How dare that woman ask your husband this kind of question? “Tony, look at me.”

“I’m just trying to keep up the façade until past the election. We are over for months, if not a year,” he casually says while your world shatters. Your eyes widen, and you press your hand to your mouth when you choke out a sob.

Bucky wants to end the call, but you shake your head. You opened Pandora’s box, and now you want to hear everything.

“I heard you’re trying for a baby.” She presses on, making you wince when Tony tells her he never planned on having a baby. It would only distract him from his goal to become president one day. “How did you not get her pregnant if you’re trying for a baby?” She huffs.

“I talked her doctor into prescribing her birth control, but to tell her that it’s vitamins,” Tony reveals. All those months you believed it was your fault you could not get pregnant. Now you know why you didn’t get pregnant. Tony manipulated your plans out of selfishness.

Tears roll down your face when Bucky brings you into his arm to let you cry into his chest. You whimper and choke out a sob, hearing Tony talk casually about his betrayal. You know your marriage got rocky lately, but this is no reason to lie to you.

Bucky ends the call. He doesn’t want you to

“Do you want to go home?” He asks lowly. “Y/N? Where do you want to go? I hope you don’t plan on attending that shitshow.”

“I… I don’t know,” you sniffle. “All I know is that I can’t go home. I can never go home again."

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Pipsqueak & Grumpy

Summary: Logan defends you.

Pairing: Wolverine (Logan Howlett) x Plussized (short) Reader

Warnings: grumpy Wolverine (you know him), sunshine reader, plus-sized reader, bullying/fat-shaming, protective Wolverine

A/N: Please consider that I write for the taller version of Wolverine from the movies, not the comics.

“Slow down, big grump,” you giggle because your boyfriend (or not boyfriend because Logan hates the word) is stomping toward the bookstore. If he hates anything, it’s shopping, but he makes an exception for you. His hold on your hand is light, but it makes your heart flutter. “Logan.”

“What is it, Pipsqueak?” He stops in his tracks, almost making you bump into his back. Logan cocks one brow while looking down at you. “I’m not smoking.”

“I asked you to slow down.” You pout. “My legs are shorter, and you’re so fast.”

“Aw, do you want me to carry you?” Logan grabs your waist, intending to lift you. “I could throw you over my shoulder and carry you around. No problem, sweet Pipsqueak.”

“No!” You playfully swat his chest. “That’s for the bedroom only.” Your eyes narrow as you watch three girls and their boyfriends walk toward you and Logan. They watch you interact and start laughing.

“Man, I wouldn’t try lifting that chubby bumblebee,” one of the boys laughs. “You’ll break your back, or worse.”

Logan dips his head as they step closer. He grits his teeth, already tensing. One more word from the idiots not knowing what they got themselves into, and there will be blood coloring the street. Not Logan’s, though.

“First and final warning,” your boyfriend growls in their direction. “Get the fuck away from me and my girlfriend.” Your heart flutters because Logan called you his girlfriend in front of others; you only wish it wasn’t at that moment.

“GIRLFRIEND?” One of the girls says, scoffing. “You could do so much better. You’re not that old.” The group starts laughing when the boy talking shit calls you a fat, short cow.

Logan growls like the animal he can turn into. He gently cups your face and pecks your temple before he turns on his heels. Logan looks the boys up and down, a dark smirk on his lips.

One of them already steps back, tugging at his girlfriend’s hand.

“So, you think you can come here and talk like that about my girlfriend?” Logan’s voice alone makes the girls whimper. They didn’t expect Logan to look like a feral wolf when he turned around. “I see you need me to tell you how to treat a woman, right.”

“Sir, they didn’t mean to-.” The last boy raises his hands in surrender and walks back. “Uh, I didn’t say a thing.”

“You didn’t say a thing; that’s right.” Wolverine steps even closer. “At least your friends were brave enough to believe they could make fun of my girl. You were just standing next to them, laughing like a hyena. A real man would never allow his friends to do such a shady thing.”

“Sir…” The girl laughing at you squeaks. “But she’s…” She screams in terror when Logan lifts his left arm and slowly slides his claws out. He chuckles darkly when the girl wets her pants. “Nooooo!”

“What will it be, boys?” Logan asks, sliding the claws on his right hand out. “A taste of my claws, or you on your knees begging my beautiful girl for forgiveness.”

He cocks his head, waiting for their answer. The girls run off, while the boys fall to their knees, murmuring apologies.

“I can’t hear you!” Wolverine yells. “Louder! I want everyone to know that you are little boys with small dicks and even smaller brains. You will tell them that you said all this shit because you are not man enough to satisfy a hot-blooded woman like my girlfriend.”

“We are little boys with small dicks and even smaller brains,” the boys say in unison. “We are not man enough to satisfy your hot-blooded woman.”

“Damn right,” Logan huffs. He slides his claws back in, but steps closer to the kneeling boys. “You’ll stay like that for ten more minutes and repeat the words. If,” he says while sliding his claws back out, "you ever say something like that to anyone ever again, I’ll find you and cut your tiny cocks off.”

As fast as he put the group into their place, Logan turned back around, his features softening.

“Now, Pipsqueak, we are going to get the books you wanted,” Logan smirks when you look up at him like he’s your hero (and he truly is in any way).

He grabs your waist, easily lifts you, and throws you over his shoulders, laughing loudly as people stop walking only to stare at the bizarre scene. The boys are still reciting the words, while Logan carries you toward the bookstore, whistling a tune.

“Logan,” you giggle and laugh. “Let me down!”

“Never, Pipsqueak,” he laughs and swats your ass with his hand. “I’d never let you down.”

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Paul x wife!reader!!! Was so so good!! I am so happy to hear that you are going to write more for them.

If you are taking thoughts for them, I would love to see when they met? Or their wedding day? If that sounds interesting 🫶🏼

🍉 Blurb requests; a character + any prompt you want.

Author's Note: I'm so glad you're enjoying these! In this one I've sort of implied that Paul and reader met once before, a year before he proposes. He had dreams of her long before their meeting and despite knowing each other from a distance, that's all the confirmation he needs. Reader is well-versed in politics and warfare, much like Paul, and while he's taken with her from the start he also sees the benefits of marrying someone who seems his equal.

Warnings: no real warnings apply, just fluff. R and P get to know each other a little better. <3

"You need to reserve your hand for the most strategic alliance," His mother had said, exasperated in the spearing of her dinner with a fork. "You know that."

"He's already decided." Leto eats slowly, eyes downcast but amused when he briefly glances up at Paul.

"What?"

Paul sighs through his nose. "I've already proposed to her, it's done."

Jessica looks aghast as she sets down her cutlery. "Tell me you didn't."

"I did." He watches as his mother looks at his father and then back at him, slack-jawed as she tries to process the magnitude of what her only son has set in motion.

"Jessica," Leto reaches for her hand. "We should be supporting our son; he's getting married."

She clenches her jaw and slips his grip as she stands, shaking her head. "You knew?"

"No, actually," Leto glares half-heartedly, making Paul duck his head. "He left me in the dark as much as he did you."

"But you suspected?"

He sighs. "Jessica."

She huffs, having her answer as she turns to leave the dining hall. Leto raises his brows at his son apologetically, folding his dinner napkin to set on the table. He stands, planning to play the part of soothing husband he isn't by title.

"I don't want to regret it," Paul says quietly, making him pause. "Not marrying her. I've thought about it for a long time."

Leto nods, pride filling him that Paul is observant enough to see the burdens of his house and family name, and doesn't want to repeat his father's mistakes.

"Your mother will come around," He smooths his beard. "Just give her time."

His mother, thankfully, keeps her internal struggle to herself from then on, not seeing the point in arguing with him when he'd clearly made up his mind. It was one thing for Paul to have inherited his father's stubbornness, but to also have inherited Jessica's tenacity was nothing short of fate. She wasn't sure if it was some cruel joke or not—the boy she bore turning out exactly as she had imagined but continued to surprise her nonetheless.

"Remember," She says as she adjusts the placement of his aiguillette on his ceremonial uniform. "She'll be skittish, despite what she might tell you. You'll need to be calm."

"You talk like she's an animal being led to slaughter." Paul buttons his collar snug against his throat.

His mother purses her lips as she looks him over one last time. "Every woman entering a political marriage is an animal being led to slaughter. And despite her acceptance of your proposal, that is what she will feel like."

She sighs and cups his cheek, brushing her thumb over his skin. "I know you like her. So channel that when you're married, yes? Be careful with her."

He smiles ruefully against her hand. "I know what to do."

You're allowed a semi-private walk with Paul through the grounds as both sets of parents mingle, most likely discussing the wedding and possible dowry, though you had made it clear your parents were to decline should one be offered. The concept of accepting a bride price seemed woefully outdated, and if the rumors were true that the House Atreides would be assuming command of Arrakis and the subsequent spice trade soon, you would become one wealthy bride indeed.

"You think you know what to do. Those are two very different things." She adjusts the Atreides eagle pins on his collar, sharing in his amusement. "Come, let's greet your bride."

"How was the trip?"

Paul, having never been on a Heighliner, asks this with genuine interest.

"It was fine. Secretive." You confess, hand tucked in the crook of his elbow. "I really wanted to see a Guild member, but Mama kept me busy."

You blink, pursing your lips. "Sorry. Mother, I meant."

Paul smiles comfortingly. "You can say whatever you like; we're to be married, aren't we? Who can we trust if not each other?"

Your heart thuds—not uncomfortably—at his words. He seems more mature since you'd last seen him a half-year ago, but still soft-spoken and reserved. You take note the level of care and observation he treats you with as he leads you to the gardens, holding your hand at breast level when you pick your skirts up with your other, walking down stone steps flanked by vines and emerald leaves the size of your torso. His eyes watch your feet to ensure you don't trip, returning your hand to his elbow when your feet are back on the ground.

"Can I truly?" You murmur as he leads you to a padded bench. "Trust you, I mean?"

His expression is earnest. "Of course. Always."

You hum, a tight smile on your face. "I appreciate your proposal more than you know. But the fact remains—we barely know each other. So why did you pick me?"

His eyes duck away bashfully. "I don't suppose you'll believe me if I say it's because I thought you beautiful."

"Not when I've seen you value the intelligence of others." Your smile eases. "Though I'd be flattered if it were true."

"It is true," He looks back at you. "You are beautiful. But you're right. It isn't the only reason."

He sighs evenly as he looks around the gardens. His mother had advised him to tread carefully when it came to his dreams, even suggested he keep them a secret. But how could he keep them a secret from you, when you were often the subject of them?

No, he would trust his instincts when it came to this. There was no other option for him when his gut was tugging in only one direction and sealing his decision.

"For a long time," He says carefully. "I've had dreams—not the kind of dreams that you forget as soon as the day wears on, but the kind that feels real and leaves a-a feeling within me, long after I wake up."

You listen with interest, finding his occasional stammering and pauses endearing. This is clearly something he thinks about often, and why shouldn't he when the dreams happen presumably every night?

"You're there," He murmurs, meeting your steadily widening eyes. "Sometimes you're behind me, like I'm protecting you. Other times you're beside me. Still others, you're reaching your hand out and I'm leading you up a million and one steps."

"I don't fully understand what they mean yet." He continues. "But I know you're always there."

You swallow a lump in your throat. Dreams could be a window into the past, as well as the future.

"What if your dreams are just dreams?" You ask somewhat timidly, not wanting to offend him. "Could you live with that? Being wrong?"

He smiles, eyes soft as he senses your trepidation. It's a big decision, one he knows he can't rush you on.

"I don't think the dreams are inherently right or wrong, I think they just...are."

He lifts his knuckles to graze your cheek, gentle as he takes such a liberty. You seem not to mind, lashes dusting your cheeks in a shy display of modesty.

"Not only are you beautiful, you're kind and intelligent. I know about the Vector Accords."

Your lips part in shock. "How could you possibly...?"

He chuckles, hand dropping back into his own lap. "I see glimpses of other things. I saw you speaking in an enormous auditorium. After I woke, we received word that morning that someone—"

He raises his eyebrows in pointed amusement. "—had negotiated peace between two great peoples on one of the outer worlds. A peace the Emperor himself hadn't been concerned with."

"So yes," He says softly but firmly. "I'd say I could live with having a woman such as you as my duchess."

Your laugh is breathless as you shake your head, thoroughly marveled and more than a little prideful that he had recognized your qualities for the value they had.

Details of the truce were not yet known, even to Padishah Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV. Paul couldn't have possibly known such a thing unless he had been present himself, and it would have been impossible for him to travel there and back preceding your arrival to Caladan.

"Were you nervous?" He asks suddenly, the innocence of the question striking you.

"My palms were soaked." You snort. "Who'd have thought, hm? Me, a mediator."

"You shouldn't sell yourself short. You're so much more than that."

It's odd, hearing such a thing from another young person and not one of your parents or mentors. You'd experienced the courting phase of youth, but never had a young man encouraged in such a way as to make you feel like what you were striving for—peace—was worth it.

You didn't need or want the validation from anyone, but it felt nice to hear it all the same.

"I, um," You blink, looking down at your filigree wristwatch to see it was nearly time for dinner. "I need to think about what you've said, if that's alright?"

"Of course." He appreciates the fact that you're not rushing into his arms, despite your gracious acceptance of his proposal. "Allow me to walk you to your room?"

Your smile is genuine and wide; you expected nothing less.

"Please."

Your wedding is grand, if a bit quiet. Neither you nor Paul see fit to complain. The Emperor sends his regrets of not being able to attend in response to your invitation.

A snub, after a projection of your speech was mass publicized. People were whispering that a little girl was better suited to bringing peace to a war-ravaged planet than a man of seventy-two, and that, you surmised, must be quite embarrassing.

He's quite handsome on your wedding day, your husband. Sitting through the festivities seems a waste when all you really want is for him to hold you. You desire him, most definitely, but you desire his softer attentions more.

If the twinkle in his green eyes and the way he seems to be in no rush to bring you to the separate wing of the castle are anything to go by, then he feels the same.

It's tradition for the groom to carry his bride from the wedding table to the marriage bed, and so he does, but the crowd is respectful as Paul assured you, and they toast you both and cheer loudly as he lifts you in his arms, walking into the castle a married man. The Duke Leto and the Lady Jessica beam as they watch you wave and tuck your head on Paul's shoulder.

"You don't have to carry me the whole way," You giggle, arms wrapped safely around his neck. "It's a bit far."

"It's not that far." He parries with amusement.

But he's not Duncan Idaho—doesn't possess his hulking form—and maybe it is farther than he originally thought, but he refuses to put you down until you hurriedly push open the doors to your new quarters and he deposits you on the bed, rolling over beside you as he catches his breath and let's his shaky arms drop.

"I told you."

He adores the laugh you let out at being correct, and thinks it might be alright to let you have every silly argument or discussion if you'll only laugh like that again.

"It's bad luck if I let you down before," He explains, lips curling. "I want it to last."

You lean on an elbow, your dress a haze of chiffon that will undoubtedly be wrinkled tomorrow.

"Our marriage?"

He nods and you purse your lips, brushing a curl away from his forehead.

"It will last if we want it to." You say softly. "And even moreso now that you've carried your wife to bed."

You kiss him sweetly and he loves you for it, loves the way you acknowledge a Caladan tradition, even if you don't necessarily believe in the superstition of "let your wife down, let your marriage drown."

It's silly but it's woven into the tapestries of his ancestors lives—now his and yours—and he couldn't be happier.

Dune Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

𝒲𝒾𝓏𝓏 is the best way to meet new friends.

His Scarred Omega Part 4

Part 3 / Series Masterlist

Relationship: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Word Count: ~1900

Summary: Bucky celebrates his first Halloween with his daughter and Omega.

Warnings: insecure Omega, flirty Bucky, flirty Jake, sappy-happy Bucky

A/N: I wrote this story really fast as I mentioned above. It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own.

I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

With Halloween growing ever closer, Bucky invites Omega and Gracie to a friend’s place for a family-friendly party. Jake’s assured Bucky his niece would be there, someone Gracie’s own age as well as some others to keep them from being too bored. Steve also promises there will be plenty of homes they can trick-or-treat from, giving Gracie something else to look forward to.

Bucky can’t help taking several pictures of Gracie in her costume. (Omega managed to divert her away from the Harley Quinn costume and into something a bit more kid appropriate.)

He also snaps a couple of Omega when she isn’t looking to save on his phone.

Gracie’s now going as cute little witch. Her blue eyes are sparkling with a bit of help from her mischievous nature, so like his own, and some eyeshadow that Omega helps her put on. The costume’s light-up abilities really sold themselves when Omega presented it to Gracie as did Bucky’s endorsement of the costume.

“You look beautiful, sweet girl,” he assures her when she does a final spin for him.

“What about Auntie? She looks nice, too, doesn’t she?”

Bucky glances at Omega and nods. His lips quirk into a small grin as he takes in the Greek goddess dress she’s put on. She’s added a few golden adornments she’s made to complete her look along with some golden accent makeup that makes her face glow.

“No, I think nice isn’t the right word, sweet girl. I think the word we need for this moment is beautiful or maybe breathtaking. What do you think?”

Omega’s cheeks are heating at his praise though she’s shaking her head at him even as a smile makes her that much more stunning in his eyes.

Gracie eventually breaks through the spell casting around them as she agrees with Bucky.

Omega is doing her best not to let Bucky’s flirting get to her. There’s no way in the world he can ever be interested in her, not after everything with Dot. Besides, she knows he’s just being nice to keep himself in her good graces where Gracie is concerned.

She can tell he’s gearing up to ask for a weekend with Gracie that includes an overnight at his place. As much as Omega isn’t sure she’s ready for that, she also knows that Bucky and Gracie are growing closer to one another. It’s only natural he wants more time with his daughter, especially with so much time he’s already lost with her.

To get them back on safer ground, Omega steers the conversation back on track by saying, “I think Bucky looks quite the pirate, don’t you, Gracie? Looks like he could take over a ship in the harbor and sail away any moment.”

Bucky grins at that. “I’d never sail anywhere without my best girls at my side. Gonna need someone to make sure I don’t get seasick, you know.”

“Somehow, I doubt you get seasick. Those legs of yours look sturdy enough to handle even the roughest seas.”

It hits Omega a second later what she’s said, her cheeks heating further with the tips of her ears and neck joining in, too.

Bucky, thankfully, doesn’t comment further on her obvious embarrassment, but then, the weird connection they share between them tells her he’s quite flattered at her appreciation of his legs. Neither of them still have a clue why this connection exists between them, but they have slowly come to accept it over the last couple of weeks.

Soon enough, they’re heading towards Jake’s home with Steve and Angel.

Gracie doesn’t stop asking questions about his friends and Jake’s niece. Her hope of gaining a new friend is quite palpable as she’s been struggling in school to accomplish the same. Then again, it’s harder to make friends when you’re dumped in a new school after the start of the year.

Bucky’s certain she’ll find her footing soon enough as she’s only been in the school a couple of weeks.

He’s been checking in with her teacher about how she’s doing, something he’s been able to do since Omega added him to Gracie’s file. Sure, he’s only added as an emergency contact, but he’s hoping that will change to full guardianship soon enough alongside Omega’s name.

According to her teacher, she’s settling in well enough though she’s still a bit on the quieter side. She’s quite helpful though she does tend to stick to herself rather than branch out, but her teacher is seeing some signs that Gracie is adjusting and reaching out to her classmates, giving Bucky the assurance she’ll be fine.

When Jake’s home comes into view, Bucky can’t help the small smile curling the corners of his lips as he glances at both Gracie and Omega. He can’t wait to show off his daughter to his friends and her sweet Omega aunt.

Angel meets him at the door and immediately smiles at Omega and Gracie.

“Oh, there’s our guests of honor. It’s so nice to see you both again. Come in. Come in. Jake is so eager to meet you both. Plus, his niece just got here and is already bored with us grownups. Would you like to meet her, Gracie?”

Gracie grins at Angel and takes her hand without hesitation.

Bucky motions Omega in after him and manages to lean in to say softly, “You really are breathtaking, Precious.”

Omega doesn’t get the chance to say anything as Steve and Jake converge on them.

Jake earns a deep growl from Bucky when he dares to awkwardly flirt with Omega after their introductions. Rather than be scared though, Jake just shoots Bucky a cheeky grin while holding his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

“Only fair since you flirted with mine when you first met her.”

Omega arches a brow at Bucky then. “So, you have flirted with Angel then?”

“Only to mess with this dork. Angel will never have eyes for another alpha but him.”

Before Omega can get away, he wraps an arm around her waist and tugs her close enough so he can whisper, “Besides, there’s only one omega that has my undivided attention these days.”

“You don’t have to say things you don’t mean, Bucky. Gracie’s already half in love with you as her dad. You don’t have to keep flattering me to win her over.”

The guarded look in Omega’s eyes has Bucky pulling her closer. His free hand cups her cheek, his thumb running over her cheekbone.

“What if I’m trying to win you over, too? What do I need to say or do for you to realize I think you’re the most wonderful, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, Precious?”  

Omega doesn’t know what to say to that. As much as she wants to believe Bucky, she also can’t help wondering if he’s done this with Dot or any number of other omegas in the years they’ve lost touch.

Besides that, she knows she’s not like other omegas. She’s definitely no Dot. She’s never pretended to be. Maybe that’s why it’d been so easy for her future alpha to claim Dot while she’d been working hard for their future and Gracie’s. Doesn’t mean the betrayal doesn’t hurt any less though.

Can she trust another alpha to not hurt her again? Can she trust Bucky?

She’s still waiting for him to decide he’s done enough to claim Gracie through the courts and sever any connections she has with Gracie. It’s something she’s seen happen before, and she can’t handle the thought of losing the last member of her family.

It takes her a moment longer than it should’ve to feel and recognize the deep rumble pouring out of Bucky and into her. His hold on her tightens as he does his best to soothe the dark thoughts swirling within her.

This darn connection between them is proving quite maddening. It’s giving her hope where she shouldn’t have any. Bucky, for all intents and purposes, will forever belong to Dot because of Gracie. It’s a futile hope for Omega to think that she can ever compete with Dot’s memory or believe she can wriggle into his heart where she wouldn’t mind being.

It’s all his fault, too.

The constant flowers every weekend he spends with her and Gracie. Doing his best to spoil her as much as he does Gracie on their outings. He’s never failed to buy her something wherever they go, especially something she eyes while they’re there. He never fails to defer to her judgment where Gracie is concerned, too, wanting to make sure he never oversteps.

And hundreds of other tiny things he’s done for her and Gracie since they bumped into him that day.

In just these few short weeks, he’s managed to turn her crush into something so much deeper, and she’s not sure she can or wants to be mad about it.

“Will you and Gracie come back to my place tonight? I have something I want to show you.”

“All our stuff is back home,” she whispers, the only excuse she can latch onto to deny him.

He simply smiles against her skin. She can feel it as he presses the softest kiss to her hair that she’s ever experienced in her life. It’s enough to weaken her resolve and her knees.

“I’ve been preparing for this, Precious. You and Gracie will have everything you need for a single night away.”

“I’ll consider it,” she says before Steve comes to check on them at Angel’s behest.

The rest of the evening, Omega manages to keep Bucky at arm’s length for her sanity. She spends as much time as she can helping Angel out between serving up food and keeping the few kiddos out of trouble.

Gracie and Jake’s niece end up hitting it off so well that both are already begging for sleepovers and other playdates together.

True to Steve’s word, the neighborhood ends up being one of the best trick-or-treating locations with almost all the houses offering candy to the kids traveling between the houses. Some even go so far as to offer up some small but creative haunted houses for the kids to shriek and laugh their way through.

It’s in one of these that Bucky finally gets the chance to have Omega at his side once again. His hand remains firmly interlaced with hers as they see all the spooky sights, tightening in the few instances where a jump scare lands successfully. Hearing Omega’s small yelps and her other hand wrapping around his arm puffs him up in ways he never thought to feel again. It’s definitely intoxicating and something he wants to experience over and over again.

When they finally return to Jake’s home, Gracie can barely keep her eyes open.

Bucky’s carrying her while Omega has her sack of candy.

“You have fun, sweet girl?”

Gracie nods against his neck, a huge yawn escaping. “Do we have to go home?”

“Yeah, we do, but I promise you’ll see your new friend again soon. Auntie and I’ll make sure of it.”

“I love you, Daddy,” she says as sleep claims her.

Bucky’s knees nearly buckle as tears of pure joy blur his vision. He brings his hand up to rub at her back as he whispers back, “I love you, too, my sweet girl. Always and forever.”

*****

Main Masterlist

Alone again - Naturally

Summary: Even around your so-called friend you are alone.

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, loner reader, introvert reader, flirty Clark, low self-esteem, almost accident, fluff, Lois bashing

Alone again. Naturally.

You should’ve known better than to go out with your so-called friend.

A few years back Lois Lane was your best friend. Now you are only an excuse for her to go to a bar or attend a party without one of her flings.

She always was the one drawing all the attention toward her person. In high school, during your freshman year and after you landed your first job at a cat magazine.

Lois Lane. The rising star.

You have always been in her shadow, and this will never change. If you are shy, meek, and introverted, people easily overlook you.

Just like tonight. Lois is once again the center of the party. She chuckles loudly and bathes in the attention she gets from the men in the room.

You sigh deeply, wishing you didn’t follow her invitation to the party her employer throws only for her.

Her latest article got all the attention, while your job led to nothing but articles about birthdays, other people’s weddings, and missing cats.

Your career is just like your love life – non-existent.

Her laughter fills the room, and when she looks your way you hope Lois will save you from drowning in self-pity. Sadly, she turns her back on you to talk to someone else than you.

She always does this. Sometimes you believe she’s the cruelest person on the planet. Maybe she only keeps you around to show you how much better her life is.

“I’ve never seen you around here,” crap, someone found you standing in the corner. Now you have to engage in small talk. You wring your hands and force a smile on your face. “Hi, I’m Clark Kent.”

“Hi,” you glance at his offered hand and murmur your name. “I’m not working here.”

“I got that,” he flashes you a stunning smile. “I assume one of the gentlemen brought his charming girlfriend with him. A shame he left you here.”

“Oh, no,” you shake your head. “Lois invited me and she’s…” You bite your tongue. This man is a stranger, and you don’t want him to believe you are the kind of person talking behind your friend’s back. “She’s busy and I’m not much of a partygoer.”

“Honestly, I came here to hide in the shadows. I’m not much of a partygoer myself,” he grins and finally drops his hand. “So, what do you do for a living.”

“I’m a…” You are embarrassed to admit that you are working for an unimportant online magazine that barely anyone reads. “I write articles.”

“Oh, I’d like to read some. Where can I read them?” He gives you a soft smile. “Anything I should read first?”

“I write about missing cats and such,” you drop your eyes to avert his gaze. “Nothing important like you and Lois. I guess no one even reads the things I write.”

“I’d still like to read your articles.”

“It’s fine, really,” you sniff, and wring your hands again. “I know that the things I write about are boring. No one wants to know about Miss Fluffy ending up stuck in the neighbor’s car. You don’t want to read the things I wrote about.”

“Never underestimate your talent,” Clark tries to cheer you up, but you don’t believe a single word leaving his lips. “I’m sure you are a very good author.”

“No. I’m not.” Your fake smile drops. “I know my place, Mr. Kent.” You get defensive and step back. “You should go back to the party and talk to more interesting people.”

“What about?” He asks as you try to find a way to sneak out of the room without drawing any attention toward you. “Why don’t you come with me and talk to some of the people in the room?”

“I told you, I’m not much of a partygoer, or good at making small talk,” you wince at your words. You sound like the pathetic loser you are in your opinion. “Uh-I should go now.”

“What about Lois?” Clark takes a step toward you. “Don’t you want to say goodbye to her at least?”

You glance at Lois and quickly avert her gaze. She’s not in the mood to hold your hand or talk to you. “I think she’s good without me.” Your voice cracks. “I don’t even know why she invited me.”

“Wait—” Clark tries to stop you, but you hurriedly make your way toward the exit. “Y/N, don’t just go.”

You are out of breath when you finally leave the building. Feeling like a fool for coming here to watch Lois celebrate another milestone in her career.

Before you can go back and apologize to her for leaving without saying goodbye, you hurriedly cross the street.

One moment you want to reach the other side, and the next a car speeds toward you. You gasp, and close your eyes, waiting for the impact.

You don’t feel the car hit you, and you don’t end up dead on the street. You’re suddenly high up in the air, clutching Superman’s suit.

“You should be more careful.”

“I-“ you look up at the superhero you heard so much about. Rumors said that he was dating Lois Lane not so long ago too. At least you read an article telling you so. “Clark?” You furrow your brows as the same soft eyes you saw not moments ago look back at you. “How…?”

“What? I—” He seems to be confused. You’re the first person to uncover his secret. “Y/N, you can’t just run over the street. That’s dangerous.”

“Okay,” you hastily say. I mean, you are floating above a building, your life in a stranger’s hands, and you won't argue with him. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“You can worry me any time,” he wraps one arm around you to bring you closer to his chest. “How about I bring you home?”

“Does…uh…Lois know about your secret identity?” You can’t stop yourself from babbling.

“No,” he whispers lowly. “I guess she wouldn’t have left Clark Kent if she knew I got a secret,” Clark smirks when you look at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“You won’t drop me, right? I swear I won’t tell anyone about your secret.” You claw at him. “No one would listen to me anyway.”

“Do you honestly believe I’d drop you?” He quirks a brow.

“No…I mean…you’re a hero…right?” You pout. “I didn’t want to find out. It’s just…your eyes give you away.”

“I should wear sunglasses from now on,” he laughs while floating toward the next building to land on the rooftop. “If you promise to not tell anyone about my secret, I believe you. And I won’t drop you, sweetness.”

“Hmm…” You nod thoughtfully. “Did you date Lois as Superman too?”

He laughs now. “No. She didn’t know we were the same person. Lois broke up with me for Superman and the stories she wanted to write about him.”

“Oh, that’s awful,” you pat his chest, admiring its firmness. “I’m sorry this happened to you. Sometimes she’s just…” You trail off while patting his chest. “You know…”

“Let me bring you home,” Clark stops you from defending your friend. “Please.”

“Can we…uh…walk?”

“I’m already in my suit and got no clothes to change back into Clark,” he lies. Clark could easily change back into his alter ego, but he’d love to fly you home.

“Does this mean you want to fly?” You suck in a breath. “Do you have a seat belt or something?”

“I’ll bring you home safely, Y/N.” You end up back in his arms. This time you sling your arms around him and hold tight onto Clark for dear life. You close your eyes and hide your face in his chest.

You squeak when he pushes off the building. “Now that you know about my secret, do you want to fly with me again someday?”

“Uh-“ you blink your eyes open but still claw at him. “If you bring me home safely, we can do this again.”

“It’s a date then,” he smiles and flies into the night, making a detour to hold you a little longer…

Part 2: Not alone any longer

Tags in reblog.

Ooo for the blurb can I please request a George Weasley x fem!muggle!reader where she is really shy, as opposed to the outgoing extroverts that the Weasley twins (and honestly most of the Weasley family) are. And he’s bringing her around to meet his family (she’s already met Fred and already knows about magic) and she’s a bit overstimulated but George is by her side, holding her close, soft kiss on the head, holding her hand and whispering sweet things in her ear to keep her calm🥹🧡

🥹omfg yessss that’s so cute 🥰 we love a sweet, sensitive Georgie. And opposites attract is a classic coupling🧡 I hope you like it!

We’re starting with a little insight to their background bc you know I love a meet cute 🥰

…also I tried not to but I got a little carried away…

Masterlist

Participate in the 1K FOLLOWERS EVENT now!

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(Y/N) had always wondered about the family across the road. Privet drive was a quiet street, and it’s residents generally of mild temperament; but she had always thought the Dursleys to be rather odd. And why did they never speak of their nephew? Often when they were children, Dudley would ride his bike down the street with his friends, terrorising pigeons and playing knock and run, so she would invite Harry to sit in her front garden when he was about. He didn’t seem to have any friends, and he was rather quiet, which made for good company. She would lend him books and share her sweets, and he’d thank her like she’d given him something significant; he was the only friend she’d ever made in the boring, suburban neighbourhood.

It was quite a surprise when he suddenly disappeared to some kind of boarding school, which he told her very little about; especially since he’d spent the first summer back hidden away at home. It was that summer when things were set in motion.

She’d woken to the sound of an engine too close to her window at number five, and thought little of it. It was when she heard a crash that she’d startled fully awake. It wasn’t everyday you see an old banger hovering over your neighbour’s window.

When she rubbed her eyes and opened the window, and finally decided that it definitely wasn’t a dream, she saw an equally startled face look back at her from the passenger seat. While the other boys in the floating car were busy sneaking Harry out, this one was looking right back at her with the expressions of someone who was caught doing something wrong and unsure of what to do. Sheepishly, the boy waved a freckled hand at her - she waved back, of course, still dazed and half awake. He smiled, like they were sharing a secret. In a way, they were.

It wasn’t until years had passed, when the Dursleys were packing for an impromptu trip, that she would open the door to meet that strange boy; older and more refined, with that same expression on his maturing face. He introduced himself as George Weasley, and asked for nothing but her name. He said there was something he had to take care of, but when it was all over, he would come back and take her for a fly.

George Weasley always keeps his promises.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

It was their fourth month anniversary (which George insisted was actually a thing) when they finally took a trip to the burrow. The war was over, everyone was there, and things were finally starting to feel back to normal. All he wanted now was to mix his beloved girlfriend in with the rest of the family.

It wasn’t the worst situation to be in, but it was on the top ten introverts’ worst nightmares list. So many new and important people to meet and bond with, and (Y/N) always seemed to screw up and say or do the wrong thing. And she just knew there’s be too much attention on her for her liking. It was going to be a tense day. But she would do it - of course she would. Anything for him.

“Don’t worry, love.” George tried to sooth her anxieties - though masked, they were clear to him. He laced their fingers together and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be fine. Mum’ll be busy, Dad’ll probably just ask questions about muggle stuff, and you already know Fred and Harry.”

He encouraged her to take a deep breath, waited a beat, and opened the front door before she could think too long.

An hour later the family had all gathered in the burrow’s cozy living room, cups of tea in hand and plates of little sandwiches and biscuits on the coffee table. George was sat at (Y/N)‘s side, holding his mug on the arm of the sofa and sitting his hand just above her knee with the other (a respectable distance away from her skirt). His parents had already asked her all of the usual questions, and had occasionally been distracted by Fred when he saw them getting too excitable.

“You’re doing fine, love.” George whispered in her ear, beaconing her to finally relax a little. “Don’t worry so much.”

“I’m trying, but you know I can’t help that.” She muttered back, holding her tea with both hands and rubbing her thumb along the edge to distract herself some.

He said nothing, knowing there wasn’t much he could say that would truly put her at ease, and landed a quick kiss on the side of her head. Part of her wished he didn’t, not in front of everyone (though they weren’t looking), as she flushed under his affection.

Harry came from the kitchen with a bowl of fizzing whizzbies for the table and a new cup of tea for Ginny, then sat himself at (Y/N)’s other side. He seemed to understand that his presence comforted her, nudging her slightly as if to say ‘ease up’.

“So, (Y/N),” Percy spoke up from the dining chair he’d moved over for extra seating space, dunking a custard cream into his steaming mug, “how is it you know Harry, then?”

Her heart did that little jump it always did when someone addressed her, and she did her best to ignore it as she thought up what to say. “We grew up together down Privet Drive.” She answered simply, sipping her warm drink to keep away the dry mouth.

Harry hummed. “She lived right across from me, at number five.”

“What a charming coincidence,” Molly smiled motherly, “and how is it you met George?”

Fred laughed from the other sofa, and George donned a cheeky and somewhat guilty smile. “Funny story, actually. D’you remember that time we took the car?”

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Reader at number five is my new favourite George pairing🥰

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