୧ ⊹₊ ⋆ Between Us 💭 Feyd Rautha

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N: Hello! Sorry guys I was protesting against the government of my country and joined the riots and almost got arrested, I'm back tho. Love you little doves.

Warnings: SMUT IS HERE! Minors get the f out. Pregnancy sex! P in V! Wrap it before you tap it folks!

Words: 4.019K

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (Let me know if i forgot to tag your or if you changed your username pls)

Chapter Thirteen

In the coronation chamber, Baron Vladimir Harkonenn was seated in his floating device, towering above his subjects, he was fuming in anger. Lady Wench’s servants’ heads on the stairs of his throne, covering the black stone stairs in blood, It looked as if the stairs were a river of black water, ‘’How could she manage to escape?!’’ he roared at his advisor who was also his right hand, the bald headed man was shaking in fear, he was a lithe man, his uniform jet black with certain colors on his left shoulder to show his rank. ‘’My Lord, Baron Vladimir,’’ he began, controlling his voice, his head low, ‘’Our Lady Na-Baroness-‘’ his speech was cut with Baron’s raspy voice, ‘’Do not dare call that bedchamber whore Na-Broness!’’ he had been ordering heads, shouting for strategic plans, he had sent a very angry letter to the Padishah Emperor Shaddam and also Duke Leto and the Reverend Mother. That old wench was the reason why Vladimir said yes to this union, he knew this little girl was a trouble and he remembered the conversation he had with Feyd-Rautha, his nephew months ago when he had a meeting at Shaddam’s study chambers, Feyd had attended few minutes later…

‘’Did I miss anything?’’ Feyd entered with a wicked smile, he had just finished dancing with Lady Y/N, it brought up his spirits to annoy her, the look on her face was something he would like to see for the rest of his life. Shaddam was sitting on a stone chair, Duke was facing Vladimir. Reverend Mother was behind the Emperor.‘’Here is my nephew.’’ He announced, ‘’He had grown up since you saw him, Duke Leto.’’ It was true, the last time Atreides family had visited Giedi Prime all of their children were little, playing and fighting together. It broke the Duke’s heart to see how much the Baron corrupted his own nephews, Rabban was gone but maybe, maybe Feyd could be saved. ‘’I highly object to this union.’’ Duke said firmly, his hands were formed into fists, he wasn’t going to sell his first born daughter like a livestock, ‘’Leto,’’ Shaddam raised his hand and draw the attention, to Shaddam, Leto was like a son he never had, he wanted Leto to understand how much he cared for this union, all eyes were on their galactic Emperor. Reverend Mother was whispering venom into his ear, or so Leto thought.

‘’This union is very important to our houses and the entire galaxy. Long ago Atreides and Harkonnen fought for centuries and shed blood. I desire to prevent this happen again. It’s time for you to unite.’’

Of course there was some truth to it but the Bene Gesserit’s only plan wasn’t this. They have been trying to create a bloodline both connected to the Atreides and Harkonnen directly. Duke hated the witches, except Jessica, she was different, Duke hoped that she would support him, it was such a shame that even though they have been together for years she was still a Bene Gesserit witch. He was soon going to find out.

One could look up and see the strange look on Feyd’s face, Baron knew that look, he was excited for his new toy but he had suspicions, she seemed too independent and disobedient. Feyd would soon to be fed up with her and toss her aside once she gives birth to the heir of house Harkonnen. That night he warned Feyd when they were alone, ‘’If you do not wish to be with her we can find someone else for you. After all, their purpose is the same.’’ Baron said, he was on his bed, smoking, Feyd was summoned late at night to speak with his uncle. ‘’No uncle, I do wish her and only her.’’ That wicked smile placed itself on his plump lips.

He had never understood why Feyd was so persistent with her.. he didn’t have time to dwell on it anyways. ‘’My nephew shall find her and bring her to justice.’’ He announced, if he had looked hard enough he would see the reluctant eyes of his subjects, little did he know that Lady Na-Baroness had gained the favor of the people of Giedi Prime.

After her session with the Reverend Mother of the Sietch Y/N retrieved to her chamber, a small space with rugs on the floor and walls, she got used to the smell of the spice, she got used to the people and the people got used to her even though she caught them staring time to time, she looked different and her head was held high all the time, it draw attention that she was a member of the Bene Gesserit and could use the voice. She meditated all night on the words and facial structure of the Mother,

‘’he is looking for his wife..’’

‘’a treachery on his part..’’

‘’Soon..’’

It must be Feyd, she was sure that her arrival was detected by his men and they must be looking for her but treachery part was confusing, she tried to channel her ancestors but it was in vain, she had to be skilled for that. She gave up the meditation because a huge sound was heard throughout the Sietch, a blasting sound and a mini second later she could hear the screams and the laser guns. Y/N immediately left her room, Fremen soldiers were gearing up, old women and children were being escorted to safety, she could see that with huge machines the walls of Sietch were being blasted, ‘’Y/N!’’ her new friend Sama screamed her name and she turned to find the source and saw Sama running towards her, she was holding a knife and a small laser gun, ‘’Here, take these. The Harkonnens are attacking us. I don’t know how they found us-‘’ another huge blast and from the giant hole a pack of  bald headed men in black uniform entered with their high-tech guns. It was them for sure. ‘’Go,’’ she said to Sama, ‘’you have duties, I can protect myself.’’ Sama was reluctant but Y/N reassured her and smiled, after Sama’s departure she joined other healers and Sayyadinas to help the children and elderly, the entire Sietch was covered in dust which was the mixture of spice and smoke, Fremen soldiers were strong and charging but the Harkonnens had more arms and outnumbered the Fremen. Y/N was in charge of helping the old Reverend Mother to safety, she ran to her bedchamber to collect her, the woman was dressed in orange satin, a yellow scarf covering her hair, ‘’Reverend Mother,’’ she yelled to be heard, ‘’you have to leave. Now.’’ The old woman calmly looked at her with spice blue eyes, ‘’You are the only one who can save us,’’ she said with a low voice, ‘’go to him. End this war.’’

Y/N understood clearly and bowed her head, she ran back to the common hall of the Sietch which was raided by the Harkonnens, she was watching from a corner and she saw her husband, Feyd-Rautha Harkonenn, he was giving orders to his men, he was covered in black but on his arm there was a scarf tied, it was hers. Her heart ache when she saw it, he must have been looking for her for weeks. She had to do something to stop the battle and the bloodshed so she came up with an idea. Y/N looked around and found a high platform, a rock that towered the common hall, it was a place where sometimes Stilgar would announce things and make his speeches. She ran towards the rock to climb it, on the way she was careful and trying to not be found and recognized, the screams of innocent Fremens filled her ears and made her climb harder, her fingers were bleeding when she reached the top and with all of her strength she yelled; ‘’STOP!’’ thanks to the Sietch’s design at this place someone’s voice could be heard clearly from everywhere inside. The Fremens and the Harkonnen soldiers stopped and looked p to find the source of the sound, Feyd-Rautha knew that voice, the smell of her pheromones brought him here and there she was, on top of a rock, her beautiful hair long and loose, they made her wear a baggy beige dress, she looked tired and sad… ‘’My wife..’’ he whispered. She was here, he had found her.  ‘’You have kidnapped my wife!’’ Feyd-Rautha screamed at Stilgar who was closer to the rock, there was a distance between them but they could see each other, Stilgar knew that this woman was a Harkonnen’s wife and his people didn’t believe him. He was right all along. ‘’Make truce and you can have your wife back Harkonnen!’’ Stilgar uncovered his mask to be heard, he was suspecting that Feyd-Rautha was going to attack and he did something which made everyone stunned, he dropped his weapon, ‘’Let her come to me and  I swear you shall have a truce.’’

Stilgar weighed him conscientiously, he also dropped his weapon to show respect, even though the man before him was a Harkonnen. The silence hung in the thick air of the Sietch, due to the fires it was extremely hot inside, Fremen and Harkonnen soldiers were alert yet immobile. Stilgar turned to look at her at the top and motioned his head, she started to climb down the rock, her hands hurt but she managed to be steady, when her bare feet made contact with the sandy floor she released the breath she was holding. Stilgar held her arm vigorously and walked towards Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

When Feyd saw that Fremen trash’s hold he was about to get his laser gun to shoot but the look on Y/N’s face was begging him to be wise and calm. ‘’Take your wife and leave.’’ Stilgar said and stop, pushed her to Feyd and he caught her, Y/N was in his arms after so long.. she looked up to meet his azure eyes, she saw so many things there, primal fury, sadness, happiness.. they were all swimming in the deep orbits of his eyes, all he wanted to was to kiss her like a man starved but not here, not right now. Feyd looked at Stilgar who was a few inches away from them, ‘’You have your truce… for a week.’’ And without a beat he held his wife’s arm and guided her outside the Sietch.

No one dared to utter a single word on the ship back to the palace of Arrakis. Y/N sat there on the cold metal chair, Feyd in front of her, and two pilots at the front. His intense gaze was on her, she looked different, her hair was a mess, she looked dirtier and plumper and yet she was the most divine creature he had ever witnessed in his life time. His elbows on his knees, legs spread he was just staring, Y/N’s eyes found the dirty scarf tied around his bicep and then his pale face, he opened his mouth to say something and thought better and closed it. When they arrived she felt his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the palace, she had seen the holograms of the palace before but seeing it up close was something else. One could see the traces of the Harkonnens, it was built by them 80 plus years ago and it was actually a gigantic structure yet simple. At the top it had a huge dome, she wanted to see it during the day light, maybe she could do it soon if she survived tonight…

His grip on her back tight, firm. Even though he was walking closely beside her his hand was possessive, she could feel it in her bones. The soldiers bowed as they saw her, ‘’Welcome back, Na-Baroness.’’ One of the higher ranked commander greeted her and she gently smiled, she didn’t have strength to speak, however her Bene Gesserit training was alerted, these men were actually relieved that she was here with them, maybe her policy back at Giedi Prime worked. As they walked the long stone corridors and reached to his bedchambers he unlocked the door with his thumb, the door opened and his hand gently pushed her inside and he locked the door, the inside consisted of a big bed, a door to the bathroom chamber, tall windows to see the endless desert, a spice rug at the middle of the room, not much of furniture except a leather couch and two armchairs, he pointed the couch, ‘’Sit.’’ Was the first word he said to her, his whole body tense. His chest felt tight, his fingers twitching, he wanted to take her in his arms again and check for any injuries, he had this deep desire to protect her, he came to sit across from her. Feyd had to take a sharp breath when he saw her eyes taring up but she was keeping her composure, ‘’Why did you escape Giedi Prime?’’

She exhaled, ‘’I had to..’’ she swallowed the lump in her throat, she was about to cry, ‘’I had no choice.’’ Her hand went to her stomach instinctively, his eyes following her action, ‘’Yes Feyd, I’m with child. The look on your face tells me that your uncle Baron Vladimir has been keeping it from you. He was the one who didn’t let me read the letters you had sent me for weeks, he is plotting my death after I give birth to our child.’’

His heart nearly stopped, the thought of her being with child, their child, was almost too much. Her hand on her stomach sent a wave of possessiveness, and protectiveness through him. ‘’I..’’ he began, ‘’You’re pregnant?’’ he was still in shock.  He felt sudden rush of different emotions all at once, happiness, surprise and… anger. Anger that his uncle kept them apart, that he kept her pregnancy from him, that he was planning his wife’s death. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, hold her, he had to hear you first and then he was going to love you and show you how much he had missed you. ‘’How long have you been pregnant?’’ his mind went to their last intimate moments, which was two months ago.

‘’For two months.’’ She replied.

It felt like someone punched Feyd, he clenched his jaw, this was all too much. She was pregnant with his child and he haven’t seen her for two months because of his uncle. ‘’Why didn’t you tell me-‘’ he knew there was no point in asking that but he couldn’t help it. The words just slipped out of his plump lips before he could stop them and that earned him a sudden outburst from Y/N. she bolted to her feet in anger, ‘’How was I suppose to tell you, huh? How was I suppose to let my husband know that I am pregnant with our first child when your uncle reads my correspondence and has his spies behind my tail?!’’ she was yelling at this point, ‘’I had to escape, you couldn’t take me with you because of your uncle but I came to you!’’

‘’I KNOW!’’ he nearly yelled at her, he also jumped to his feet, towering above her, he was also angry but not her, never her, he was angry at the entire situation that they were in. ‘’I know that you had to escape, I know that you came to me, I know I couldn’t take you with me!’’ he was yelling now, he took a step towards her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. ‘’Then why are you so cold towards me?!’’ her voice broke.

His hand went to his bald head, frustrated. He wasn’t cold towards her, he was on edge, he was trying to keep himself check, but her words were making him lose it. He grabbed her by the arms, his grip firm. ‘’Because I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what to do with you, with us, with my uncle’s blood plan.. I don’t know!’’

‘’He asked for my head didn’t he?’’ she was calm now, her voice as cold asa Bene Gesserit witch.

He was staring at her, his pupils blown wide, his hands still on her arms, ‘’Yes.’’ He admitted through gritted teeth, his grip even more tighter, he wanted to pull her close, to shield her from everything that was happening, ‘’He demands your head.’’

‘’What are you going to do Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen?’’ she asked coldly, ‘’It’s either your wife or your uncle.’’

His eyes hardened, ‘’I will not let him touch you.’’ He said with a harsh voice, his mind was In turmoil. Ever since he opened his eyes to this galaxy he has learned to suppress and channel emotions, yet he was a mess right now. ‘’I will not let him take you. He wants your head but he will not get it.’’ His gaze was intense, his voice now threatening.

Y/N reached and clashed her lips with his.

He was taken aback by the sudden kiss, his anger and turmoil melting into the kiss and replaced by a rush of desire and need. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush against him, his hands exploring her body greedily. He could feel his body ignite with a hunger for his wife, he was desperate for her touch, flesh, and taste. One of his hands moved up and entangled itself in her hair, holding her there, their mouths melded together in a heated and possessive embrace, it had been so long. She whispered between kisses, ‘’Take me to bed.’’

He immediately picked her up like she weighed nothing, took her to the bed and laid her on the mattress, his body following close behind. He knelt above her, his eyes dark with desire, he kissed her again deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hunger that borders on wild desperation.    Her hands reached to take off his uniform and his breath almost stopped , he broke the kiss to help her, when he quickly got rid of his uniform he knelt to kiss her neck, bite and leave his marks on her. His large hands also helped her with her dress and she was naked under him, he took a step back to look at her, his jaw clenched again, his hands gently roamed on her soft flesh, his fingers were tracing every curve, every contour. He bent his head and placed a kiss on her shoulder, working his way down on her body with trail of hot kisses, his mouth worshiping every inch of her. He stopped when he reached her belly and looked up to meet her gaze, he felt a rush of emotions washing over him. It hit him that they were going to be parents, that she was carrying his child inside her. His heart swelled with a warm and fuzzy feeling, his fingers gently caressed her belly, almost as if he wanted to feel the baby that was growing inside her. His eyes were soft for a moment, he started to kiss her stomach again, making it emotional for her as well. Soon he went lower and lower and met her dripping core. His hands were gripping her hips, his mind was swirling with lust and need. A his mouth reached her core, he paused for a moment his breathing ragged and hot. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire, and he slowly took one of her legs over his shoulder giving himself more room to work. He slid his tongue over her slick flesh, tasting her, feeling her body shudder under his touch.

He didn’t know what has gotten into him but he just needed to drown himself in her. She moaned when he made the first contact, they had never done this before so it felt more intimate. His lips and tongue exploring her sensitive flesh, he was taking his time, wanting to savor every second. It was different than he had expected, more intimate and more pleasurable. He could feel her tremble under him, hearing her breathing change and he couldn’t help but draw out her pleasure, to make her feel good. His hands gripped her hips,  holding her in place as he swirled his tongue over her wetness, taking his time. She screamed his name ‘’Feyd!’’ as he inserted a finger, she was so wet and ready, it sent a wave of desire surging through him. He kept his mouth exploring, his tongue teasing and swirling while his finger worked inside, his mouth was hungry, his body heat getting hotter and hotter, he was losing himself in her reactions, in the sounds she was making, his own need was growing stronger and sending electricity. As he added another finger he could hear her gasps and whimpers, his mouth still on her wet folds, she tasted delicious, he was lost in her. It was so fun to watch her, she looked like a woman possessed and he was the one making her like this. ‘’Feyd,’’ she screamed, ‘’Feyd, I’m coming!’’ there was a feeling on her lower abdomen that she had never felt before, His fingers and mouth kept working, he wanted to see the way she was going to crumble, he was desperate for her to come in his mouth, he was drinking her like a man who had found a river in the middle of the desert.  She felt so soft in her mouth that he couldn’t stop himself from biting a bit, it earned him screams, soon she started to shake in pleasure, her hands gripping the bed sheets, as she came undone she screamed his name like a prayer so many times and Feyd didn’t move a muscle, he drank her sweet juice like a submissive servant, who was ready to do whatever she wanted. As she screamed his name he greedily lapped up every drop of her, not wanting to waste a single bit. His desire for her was strong, it was nothing like he experienced before with his former slaves, she was different and every since their first intimate moment he wanted no one but her. She was his, and Feyd wanted to give her more. He climbed up to kiss her, she was still shaking, he could feel her in his mouth, a sweet taste and he wanted her to taste herself so he kissed her  raw. He wanted to envelope her and become one, their bodies glued and she could feel his hard member. A moan escaped his lips, his body was tense with desire, needing her so badly. His fingers were gripping her skin as he leaned in to press his lips on her boob, sucking on the sensitive flesh, he had imagined that in a few months her tits were going to leak with milk, her belly swollen with his child and that image mad his rock hard cock twitch, his eyes were on hers as he sucked on the sensitive flesh, her boobs now more sensitive than ever. ‘’My husband..’’ she moaned and threw her head back. He couldn’t stop himself, her moans driving him wild, hearing her call him ‘’my husband’’ just set his heart racing. He moved back up to kiss her his body pressing against her body, ‘’Mine.’’ He said voice hoarse and ragged. ‘’Yours..’’ she managed to say, his mouth devouring hers, he needed her, he had to have her right in this moment so he place himself between her legs, ‘’You’re mine..’’ he took a moment to look at her under him, legs spread, such a fine delicacy and all for him. He entered her sweet folds slowly, and gave her a moment to adjust, she had forgotten how big and thick he was, it felt like the first time all over again and she gasped, ‘’Shhh’’ he knelt to kiss her cheek, her nose, her chin, he pulled out slowly and moved back in, to the hilt.

(Tumblr said the chapter is too long so i’ll continue the smut on the next one)

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Hey! I saw you were accepting Feyd requests and I got so excited! Could you do something where Feyd and reader have been married for a little while, have been pretty stand-offish and just keeping up appearances. They get into a fight over something stupid, saying hurtful things because reader still believes Feyd is incapable of feelings. Turns out he’s really protective though and gets seriously injured saving her during an attack? Reader panics trying to help him and the feels super guilty, meanwhile Feyd is enjoying the attention.

Staining

Feyd-Rautha x reader

Notes/Warnings: It's slightly different, but I hope you like it anyway. Mentions of blood and death. Smut so 18+. I'm sure there's typos. I think that's it.

Words: 4100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

“You’re heartless”—that’s what you spit at him after watching him rip apart another family right before your eyes. 

He slaughtered a man for a petty crime, and then you had to watch what would become of the wife and children. 

He gave them options, of course. He presents all of them with a choice: to be servants for his House or to fight for survival in the slums of Giedi Prime. For the mother, it likely means you’ll have a new handmaid. For the boys, they will be trained so they can one day face off in the arena. Either way, it's no life.

As he announced the options for their future, you couldn’t look away from her: the woman whose husband lay at her feet, the blood drained from his body as she attempted to shield her two young sons behind her small frame. You watched her kind eyes go permanently wide out of shock. She needed to answer your husband’s question, give a response to his merciful offer, but she couldn’t. Nothing on her moved save for the grip she had on her boys, which only tightened the longer she stared at her dead lover. 

You knew what would happen to them. Your husband found her silence and inability to snap out of her trace irritating. She would make a poor handmaid if she could not listen. The boys, however, could still make fine warriors—guaranteed entertainment a few years down the line. 

So he separated them. Allowed the guards to pry them away from their mother’s fingers—who left her state of shock behind only when she felt them being ripped from her hands—before dragging them to cells with tears streaming down their round cheeks. 

Their mother collapsed to the floor by her dead husband. His blood soaked her skirts. You didn’t know how a man could do this to his own people for something as simple as the theft of some food, but he does, and often. Then he had her thrown out, back to the slums where she came from. 

She’ll never see her boys again. If you know your husband, he will likely one day force the two to face off with each other in the arena. After all, that’s where his uncle finds entertainment, and your husband will do anything to please the old man. 

Long after his guards have departed with the woman, you’re still staring at the body on the floor. The red around him is congealing. If you run your finger through it, the digit will return sticky and thickly coated. He’ll stain your skin. He’ll stain through your skin onto your insides. He’ll never come off. 

He’s like your husband, you think. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen stained you, and impressively, he didn’t even have to touch you to achieve that. Simply being in his presence was enough to leave his mark, and you’re in his presence plenty, just not how you imagined you would be when you married him. You imagined being in his bed. You imagined kisses and loving caresses and sweet words—that kind of staining. But you were a naive girl when your parents dropped you off on this planet, and you quickly learned how to be a woman; a woman whose husband only uses her for formality’s sake. 

You don’t know why you have to be by his side for this, though, but he always ensures that you are. The two of you…a solidified front to the world, as if you agree with the choices he makes and the punishment he doles out to those who don’t deserve it.

So that’s why you say it. Because you’re tired of this, tired of being silent, hating the idea that your silence might lead him to think the two of you are on the same page; that you’re a team. 

“You’re heartless.”

His head whips to you. “Heartless…” His voice around the word is vile; thick and rich like the blood on the floor. With a few steps in your direction he is in your space and you clasp your hands in front of you, fingers squeezing tightly to keep yourself from running off. He stares down at you, a luminous blue that you found so stunningly gorgeous when you first met him now a pair of frozen icicles stabbing into your skull. “I’m heartless?”

Your swallow is rough. Dry and scratchy. 

“I’m not the one who steals from his neighbors. I’m not the one who risks leaving his wife alone for the rest of her life,” he says. “They know the laws. They know the consequences.”

“And the woman? She deserves to be alone, rotting away in poor living conditions because of his choice? Her children deserve to die for your entertainment?”

“You take issue with how I handle things?”

“Yes.”

Feyd’s back teeth clench. His jaw sets in a sharp line. “Another reason for you to hate me then,” he grits out.

You blink. Your lips part. Another reason? You don’t have multiple reasons, and there’s certainly nothing you’ve done to indicate that you do. You used to hate that he didn’t, and doesn’t, care about you, but you’ve never said a word about it. You’ve never bothered him about sleeping in separate rooms or asked him to give you anything of himself. This—his treatment of his people in situations like this one—isn’t another reason. It’s the reason. 

“You could deal with these matters differently,” you say.

His fingers form balls at his sides. His mouth opens. It closes. He shakes his head and walks past you but pauses before he is completely out of your peripherals. “This is how things are done here,” he says. “You’ve been my wife for five months now. You need to get used to it.”

—

You don’t get used to it. You don’t get used to it because he doesn’t demand you be by his side at his executions anymore. Not after that day. 

You’d never spoken up before that moment, and it cost you what little interaction you had with your husband, which you despise to say was precious. You may not love him, and at times hate him, but he is the only thing you have on this planet. Little as you spoke to one another before, you held onto it because no one else gives a damn about you. Not that he does either, but at least he would give you a word or two. His brother and the Baron don’t bother, leaving you to Feyd to decide what to do with and when to do it. 

However, you imagine they didn’t expect that he would never touch you, and based on the way they watch you and Feyd when you’re forced to join the Harkonnen’s for dinner, you imagine they’re now aware that whatever was between you—minute as it was—is gone. He doesn’t even call on you for formal events. He no longer cares about showing a unified front to the other Great Houses. But you do.

You know what reputation means to the Harkonnens, and regardless of how you feel about the history of Feyd’s choices, you’re not willing to present your life on Giedi Prime as a failure. The two of you are too young for whispers to spread among influential families of a tainted marriage, a crack in the system. You don’t need questions floating about in regards to a unification that will not result in an heir. The end of the Harkonnen line, they’ll say, as Rabban, much older than your husband, has yet to choose a wife. How unfortunate, they’ll slyly mutter around the rims of their champagne glasses. And you’re not ready for that. 

So, with the exception of executions, you attend the events your husband does not invite you to anymore. You make sure your face is seen, especially when most vital. At his meetings, at his fights in the arena, and at Harkonnen parties such as this one. 

People enjoy themselves here. Shockingly, a few strong drinks eases the tension between Houses, and Giedi Prime has the strongest drinks of them all. It’s a tactic. A genius one, if you’re honest. The Baron invites his guests and gets them in a good mood and strikes deals one cannot go back on. Brilliant. Something you might have thought of yourself if your husband let you share your thoughts; thoughts you have plenty of. But no one cares how you would rule this planet if you had a say in its future.

You watch the Houses mingle about. You watch them laugh and dance. You watch them watch your husband. You watch them watch you. You watch the wheels turn in their alcohol-addled brains. You roll your eyes at what he doesn’t see. 

Ungluing yourself from your designated spot, you step up the staircase that leads to the Harkonnen men, your husband and his brother flanking the throne the Baron sits upon. You don’t think to speak to any of them; you didn’t break away from your assigned location for words. Instead, for all to see, you reach up to cup Feyd’s cheek and turn his head toward you for the first kiss since the day of your wedding. A gentle brush of lips. A buzz more engulfing than any drink could offer.

He freezes, and when you pull back his lips are still parted. His eyes open slowly and he stares down at you in awed confusion. How he doesn’t understand why you’ve done what you’ve done is just short of bewildering, but it doesn’t seem to click. 

“You–”

“I’m going to retire for the night,” you tell him. You’ve been at this party long enough, and the guests have now seen what they needed to see. Not to mention, their tipsy state means they’ll soon forget any thoughts they have about you until morning. They’ll stop searching for your presence. 

You don’t wait for your husband’s nod of approval. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t care where you are at any given time anyway, so you descend the staircase and exit the grand room into the hall that leads to your bedroom.

The echo of footsteps follows and you’re bold enough to believe it could be Feyd before a blade is pressed against your throat from behind. For a moment, you think it still might be your husband—retaliation for the kiss that re-sparked a feeling you’ve been trying to ignore since you married him—but the voice in your ear is feminine. 

“He killed my husband, my Lady,” the voice says, and you instantly remember her. It’s been two months but nothing could make you forget the look in her eyes. “I want my sons.”

You swallow hard. The blade nicks your throat from the additional force. A droplet trickles down your neck. “I can’t return your sons to you,” you tell her, at the same time questioning how she infiltrated such a secure place. But you suppose with the number of guests, slipping in would not have been the most difficult of challenges. 

You wince at the deepening cut. Your heartbeat quickens, doing little to aid in stopping the blood seeping from your wound. “You’re the na-Baronness.”

“I have little power here.”

“I don’t care!” she shouts, her words bouncing off the walls. “I want my boys,” and you think now she’s crying. Her tone alters. Something catches in her throat. “What’s happened to them?”

You don't wish to tell her, but you’re in no position to deny her requests. “They’re alive and well,” you say, which isn’t a complete lie. The Baron prefers strong, well-fed fighters—the duels last longer that way. 

“I want them back!”

“As much as I would like to, I cannot give them back to you. It’s not my decision.”

“Then I’ll take you from him,” she spits. “The way he took mine.”

You must’ve put on a grander show than you expected with that kiss because she seems to fully believe that your death would matter to him. But you know he won’t blink an eye. He might even thank her. Reward her by reuniting her with her sons, though unlikely. 

“He won’t care,” you tell her. 

“I have seen him, my Lady. He will care,” she says, and you don’t know how she could possibly come to that conclusion or why. It’s not as if the people of Giedi Prime sense a kind capability from the Harkonnens. “He will–”

She chokes. The blade trembles then drops from your neck. You quickly glance down to find Feyd’s knife deep in her side. 

Many things are a mystery to you in that moment. Why he bothered to leave the party; why he came down this hall of all halls, especially when his room resides in another; and why he pierced her side rather than go for the neck, which would have instantly ended her. His mistake. An uncharacteristic mistake.

The woman whips around, freeing you, and you stumble out of reach. They’re a blur of battling bodies as you get your footing, but then it catches up with you—the pain. Your hand goes to your neck and you make a little noise at the sting of your fresh wound. Your mistake. 

Feyd looks away from her in search of you for a single second. Not even. A half-second. But the woman is smaller, quicker, and the distraction is enough. Her blade slides into his abdomen. He grunts. You gasp.

He regains his focus and, by her hair, he rips her head back to expose her throat and shoves the blade through her neck. Blood spurts across his chest as he removes the weapon, and she collapses to her knees before the rest of her body flops to the floor. 

Feyd takes a shaky step back, staring down at the blade in his torso. He drops his knife and his hand goes to the hilt of the other. 

“No, don’t!” you yell, but you’re too late. He jerks the blade out and it clatters on the ground. His palm does nothing to stop the flow of crimson. 

Rushing to him, you fall to the floor as he does. You press your hands on top of his to keep the pressure but it’s useless. “Don’t you know anything?” you mutter. “You should’ve kept the damn thing in.”

He chuckles. The bastard actually chuckles. Then his other hand raises and lands on top of yours. You think he’s trying to add more pressure, but his touch is gentle. His thumb runs over your knuckles. 

“It’s alright,” he says, and you’ve never heard his voice so devoid of depth and strength.

“No, it’s not,” you retort, irritated. 

“You still hate me?”

“Shut up!” you snap. “Help!” Yanking the black chiffon sleeve off your gown, it tears free and you ball the material to shove it against his wound. “Help!” 

Guards burst through the doors and run to you. You sigh with relief, but when you look down, your husband is paler than you’ve ever seen him. 

“Feyd…” 

You’re shoved out of the way in a second, flung to the side like a flicked-away ant, and then he’s taken from you. You watch them until he’s out of view. When you glance down at your hands, they’re stained with him. 

—

They bandaged your neck in mere minutes and you find it aggrivating that they couldn’t work as efficiently on him. You’ve been dead silent for hours now, expecting to hear screams of pain as they stitch him back together, but then you remember he’s a glutton for pain. He’s probably enjoying it, the sick bastard. But you’re not enjoying it—the waiting, the limbo. It’s torturous. 

You’ve never seen him hurt before. You’ve witnessed his skills in the arena, and not once in your seven months of marriage has someone gotten a decent slash on him. 

Guilt hits you hard as you recall that it’s your fault. That woman was skilled as well—you suppose she would be if she was raised to live where she did—but if you hadn’t made that noise, if you hadn’t distracted him, she would’ve been dead before she could do her damage. This wouldn’t have happened. 

Just then, a knock comes at your door. You speak for them to enter and a guard peeks into your room. “My Lady…” he says, and you pray you’re not about to be told your husband didn’t survive a single stab wound. “You can come with me.”

You don’t wait around for more. You hop to your feet and quickly follow through hall after hall until you’re at his room. 

“What will I see when I walk in there?” you ask. 

“He’s fine, my Lady,” he says, bowing his head to dismiss himself before returning to his post. 

Turning the knob, you edge the door open and step inside. The bed is in immediate view, but he’s not in it. He’s not in it and he should be. Not even the covers are pulled back. Maybe the guard misled you. If he were fine, surely he would be resting. 

You make your way in further. 

“You’re here.” 

Your head snaps to your right where he’s leaning against the lone table in his room, a lit orb on the wooden surface illuminating him from behind in a white glow. He’s less pale than he was; what little rosiness he once had returned to his skin. 

Clearing your throat, you say, “I was told to come.”

“Because I told them to bring you,” he says. 

Your heart pounds at the bareness of his torso, the thickness of his arms as they cross in front of his chest. It pounds in a different way, an off-kilter way, when you notice the dressings wrapped around his waist and the patch of blood that is seeping through three layers of it. 

He must see your distraction because he says, “It’s fine.” Your eyes flick back to his. A beat of silence passes between you. You’re unsure how to continue now that he’s seen the concern you have for him. “I suppose you’re disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” you repeat. “What for?”

“I’m alive.”

Your jaw drops ever so slightly. You recover as best you can before you say, “Feyd, I don’t want you to—I’ve never wanted you to–”

He holds up his hand, cutting you off. “I’m going to listen to you.”

Your brow pinches. Why did he silence you, then? “Listen to me about what?”

He takes a deep breath, an action that lifts his shoulders and has them falling heavily back down. His eyes penetrate you as they’ve always done, but the iciness is gone. “I don’t care if the people I hurt want to kill me,” he starts. “But she didn’t come to kill me; she came to hurt me by killing you. So I will listen to your thoughts when it comes to dealing with matters like that one.” He pauses, expecting a response, but you don’t quite know what to give him, so he continues. “Your voice will make fewer enemies.”

“You care about making enemies?” Since when would a Harkonnen ever care about such a thing? Especially when they are known for doing that thing so well.

“I care when they come after my wife,” he says. Pushing off the table, he leisurely steps toward you. You’re stuck to your spot. “The men of my House do not have a history of caring about their wives. They’ve never cared if their actions bring them harm, and yet, people have used our wives as pawns for revenge for centuries. Many have died to prove a point. I’m not going to let you be one of them.”

He stops only to not collide with your body. You have to look up to maintain eye contact, and when you do, his breath brushes over your lips. “Why didn’t you kill her when you could have? You stabbed her in the side. You avoided vital organs.”

“Because you wouldn’t have wanted me to kill her if I didn’t have to,” he says. “So I didn’t kill her…until I had to.”

You suck in a sharp breath. You didn’t know he was capable of such restraint. You didn’t know he had enough fragments of a heart to glue together to keep him from doing exactly as he pleases. 

His hand lands on your hip and his thumb begins to rub up and down over the curve of it. He hasn’t touched you…ever. In fact, he’s seemed over the months to deliberately avoid it. Like your skin would burn him even through the fabric of your gowns. Anytime it looked like he would try, he’d pull back before flesh grazed flesh. 

“You hadn’t kissed me since we married,” he says, so gentle in that low voice that it’s practically a whisper. It doesn’t make the heat of his breath any less intense against your skin. 

“People were watching too intensely,” you inform him. “They were thinking something was wrong between us, I could tell, and I didn’t want to give them that power over you.”

“So that was it, then?” he asks. “That’s the only reason you did it?”

“That’s–” you swallow, debating whether or not to say it, to give him more. 

“What?”

“That’s the reason I did it,” you decide to tell him, and his face shifts; his features alter in a manner you’ve never seen. He looks down to his feet. He nods and his touch disappears, and now you feel cold and you hate it. “But that’s not the only reason I wanted to do it.”

He freezes as he did before. For a moment, his chest stops rising and falling with expected breaths. When his tongue darts out to wet his lips, he raises his head. 

You can’t stop staring, even though your brain is telling you to get ahold of yourself. His mouth is so plush. You’ve always known it. It’s always done something to you. And whatever that something is, it’s more potent now that he’s so close and you can see his lips glistening in the low light. 

“Will you do it again?” he asks.

Again? You didn’t imagine he wanted you to do it the first time, or the second. The first was an obligation. The second was not exactly mutually agreed upon. But as he stands in front of you, asking, you can’t bring yourself to say no. You don’t want to say no. So you say yes, and you inch up on your toes until your lips meet his. 

Immediately, he’s yanking your body flush against his. His hand goes into your hair, and he parts his lips so they can better lock with yours. He’s good at this, and you don’t want to think about why, can’t think about why without a knot of jealousy settling in your gut that only dissipates when those hands travel down your body to the back of your thighs. You’re in the air, your legs wrapped around his waist, your lips still sealed for one second more before your back hits the mattress and he’s on top of you with his leg shoving between yours, nudging your thighs open for him. 

You don’t know the exact moment it happens, but your skirts are up to your waist and he’s inside of you, moving in and out, kissing your neck and pulling gasps from your throat, and it feels right, good, like pieces falling together. A bit of you feels guilty for that. That you can know what he’s done to people and still want to feel the pleasure of every inch that he’s giving you. You’re selfish, maybe that’s it. Maybe you’ve always been and you didn’t know it. You can’t bring yourself to care as he makes those deep noises in your ear and stains your insides.

After you’re sated, you lay there for a while with him in your arms and his arms wrapped around your waist. His head rests on your chest. You think about the things you’ve done to each other in the course of an hour and it brings a blush to your cheeks. You think about how you can’t go back and that you don’t want to. You’ve wanted this from the beginning, despite what he’s done. You expected it when you married him only to be sorely disappointed at his lack, or what appeared as a lack, of interest. You’re definitely selfish, at least when it comes to him. But you refuse to be when it comes to other matters.

“I want something from you,” you say. He hums, content. “I want us to take in that woman's boys.”

The dishwasher

Summary: His fingers are dirty…

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x GF!Reader

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, teasing, we stan his lil belly

Square filled for @avengers-assemble-bingo “Bucky Barnes Birthday bingo event": Square 3: Staring contest

Card No: 4B009

Square filled for @buckyboybingo: Square 13: Free space

Square filled for @fandom-free-bingo: "Half-Baked Edition": Square 6: Licking lips

“Babe, I’m home. I got the plums you wanted,” you gasp, seeing your man standing in the kitchen. He’s looking a little broody today, and you wonder what’s running through his head.

Bucky holds a book in his metal hand while, to your horror, he eats the leftovers of the lasagna you made with his flesh hand. The sauce ends up on his shirt, the kitchen counter, and the floor you just mopped.

You huff. You love watching your man being comfortable enough to eat food with his hand, and even that he got a little belly now, that he has a real home—but you hate that he gets himself, his clothes, and your kitchen dirty. – Again.

He looks at the ruined shirt and the floor before taking another bite. Bucky goes back to eating while reading as you try not to be too turned on by his rugged, chiseled appearance. Damn, his perfect jawline and firm muscles.

Even with a little more belly, he looks perfect. Maybe even more handsome. The dress shirt is hugging his muscular frame in all the right places. The buttons are undone, teasing a glimpse of his chest and a dusting of dark hair.

Licking your lips, you watch him take another bite. His lips part, revealing his skilled tongue.

“Doll,” he finally says, eyes drifting toward you standing in the door frame. “I didn’t hear you coming.” It’s a lie, you know it. Bucky simply wanted you to watch him eat because he knows it turns you on.

He gives you a smoldering look, making you whine. “Buck, what the hell,” you huff, instead of giving in to the things swirling in your mind. “You are dirty!”

“I know,” he purrs and gives you an irresistible smirk. “How about you come over here, and I’ll get you dirty too?”

You glance at his hands, humming as you imagine letting him finger-fuck you again.

“No—” Your answer surprises Bucky. He furrows his brows because so far, you have never said no to him. “I know what you did with your metal hand, and your other hand is stained with lasagna.”

He chuckles at your comment. “I can wash my hands. No problem, doll.”

“Not the metal one,” you huff. “I don’t want to know if there is still some blood, dirt, or food stuck in your metal fingers. You won’t get anywhere near me with your dirty fingers, sir.”

“Sir, huh?” Bucky grins before shoving the rest of the lasagna into his mouth. “I will come back to you and her.” He dips his head to look at your crotch. “How about I carry the bags inside, and you can slip into something comfortable?”

“I won’t let you touch me with your dirty fingers,” you coo while walking past your boyfriend. You glance over your shoulder, admiring the way the dress shirt stretches across his broad shoulders. “Eat up, baby. I got dessert for you.”

“Dessert,” he hums, eyes following your every move. Bucky looks at his hands, frowning deeply. “Let’s get you clean then…”

After cleaning the floor and taking off his dirty clothes, Bucky removed his metal arm and put it into the dishwasher to get it clean, but the machine doesn’t want to work.

“Stop making a fuss,” Bucky grumbles under his breath. He glares at the dishwasher, having a little one-sided staring contest with the machine. “I want you to do your job.”

Slamming the door shut, he presses the button again, waiting for the dishwasher to do its job.

He smirks as the dishwasher finally starts to work. “I’ll be right back.”

“Buck? Baby?” You look around the kitchen. Bucky must’ve cleaned the floor and kitchen island, but the man himself is nowhere to be found. “I was joking, you know.”

Looking at the dishwasher, you sigh. Bucky must’ve forgotten to shut it off. “Alright, let’s see if he used it right this time.” You chuckle while opening the door. You slide the rack out, screaming in terror as Bucky’s metal arm lies in the rack.

“Doll? Y/N? What happened?” Bucky runs into the kitchen, looking for the source of your distress. “What’s wrong?” He searches for an intruder.

“Your arm…” You point at the dishwasher, still a little shaken. “Why is your arm in the dishwasher, Bucky? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“You wanted me to clean my hands,” he shrugs and steps toward the dishwasher. Bucky pecks your cheek before getting the arm out of the dishwasher to put it back on.

“You’re crazy,” you giggle when he wraps his arms around your waistline to kiss your neck. It makes you happy that Bucky feels safe and comfortable enough in your shared home to take his metal arm off without thinking twice. “But I love you.”

“I love you too, baby doll.” He nuzzles your neck, sighing happily as you wrap your arms around him.

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! 🤍

Pre-Exposed

This is a new, angsty Evan Buckley imagine requested by anon. I'm sorry it took me so long to write this for you.

I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper @darlingcharling-blog

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) and Evan have a son together, and when he becomes unwell, hidden family secrets begin to surface. And Evan isn't sure he can forgive his family for the secrets they have kept from him.

Enjoy.

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

Hooking her bag onto her shoulder, (Y/n) took a deep breath and walked away from the car. Her tongue darted out to run across her dry lips as she made a brisk walk through the school gates and followed the winding path towards the reception doors.

It wasn't often that (Y/n) got a phone call from the school. Jack wasn't like other boys. He wasn't one for getting into fights or playing up, that wasn't him and he loved his school work. He was involved in lessons and had a passion for learning.

The only times (Y/n) ever got a call from the school was regarding school trips or to be made aware of something that was happening. And those calls were rare and few.

When she left work just after lunchtime, (Y/n) hadn't been expecting to get a phone call from the school telling her that Jack had fainted. Sometimes he tripped or got a graze when he hurt himself playing games during break and sometimes he was sick, but it rarely happened.

(Y/n) could count the times on one hand when she had needed to come and pick Jack up from school. That told her that this had to be worrisome.

Her hands started to clench and curl into fists as she headed through the double doors and turned towards the reception desk.

"Hi, I got a call to come down for Jack Buckley?" (Y/n) couldn't stop herself from tapping her fingers against the reception desk as she waited for the woman to look at her notes to know where Jack was.

Things like this always made (Y/n) nervous. Whenever she had to take Jack to the doctors or to any appointments, Evan was always there with her. She didn't know what to do with herself or how to stop the tension and stop from feeling so uneasy.

"He's just through here."

Rolling her lips together into a thin line, (Y/n) nodded and followed the receptionist down a short hall towards a row of rooms. (Y/n) recognised a few of them to be the teacher's offices, a supply cupboard and finally a small nurse's office.

The room wasn't very big, it was about the same size as a walk in wardrobe with two chairs in front of a computer desk and a small bed in the corner for examinations. It much resembled a compact GP room at the doctors. And there, perched on one of the chairs to the left, was Jack.

The ten year old looked worn out. He was slumped forward with his arms resting on his knees and his head bowed down. His body was jittering and lightly trembling and he looked pasty like all the colour had been drained from his body. When he tilted his head up to see who had walked into the room, a small smile pulled at his lips but it didn't make him look much better.

There was a drowsy look in his eyes that made (Y/n) fear he might be on the verge of collapsing again. He looked like he wanted to go to bed.

She hurried into the room and set her bag down on the chair next to him while she crouched down so she was in front of him. Her hands rested on his knees and she tried to smile as she looked him up and down, checking for any injuries or anything that didn't seem normal.

"What happened?" (Y/n) glanced back over her shoulder to look at the receptionist but she was surprised when Jack slumped forward until his head was resting on her shoulder. And he shakily looped his arms around her neck and leaned against her chest like he was a toddler again who wanted to be carried around.

"We're not quite sure if he fainted or fell asleep at his desk, he dropped and hit his head on the desk. And he's very lethargic."

That didn't sound good.

(Y/n) knew instinctively that Jack must have fainted. He wasn't the kind of child who would fall asleep just anywhere and not once had he ever fallen asleep in school. He didn't take naps when he was at home, Jack was such a hyper, wired boy that naps weren't something he seemed to be able to do.

And if he had slumped down and hit his head on the desk then it made sense that he would have fainted. By the looks of him he seemed like he might be within range of fainting again.

(Y/n) kissed the top of his head before she moved her hands to his shoulders and gently tried to reel him up so he was sitting straight again. But her head tilted to one side and she frowned when she watched him grimace.

"My back hurts." He muttered quietly while he kept one arm around (Y/n)'s neck and moved his other hand to point round to his back.

When (Y/n) glanced back at the receptionist, she shook her head with a blank expression and her hands tightly knitted together in front of her. He hadn't mentioned that to her or said anything about falling and hitting his back or having anything happen to his back.

(Y/n) pushed up on her knees so she could lean over and carefully roll Jacks shirt up towards his shoulders so she could check what he was talking about. Her breath caught in her lungs and her chest seemed to seize up when she looked at his back. There were bruises scattered around his lower back like splatters of paint. Some were fading from purple to pasty blue and others were a dark yellow with a green tinge, suggesting they had been there a while.

"Jack, baby, what have you been doing? Did you play-fight with someone?" Some of the bruises looked old, but others looked new.

What had he done? Had some of the other kids been picking on him? (Y/n) dreaded that thought. She didn't want to learn that other kids had been bullying Jack or else she would have to tell Evan and get him to come down to the school and have a stern word with them.

"I fell playing football with Chris." He winced as he spoke and clicked his spine into place whenhe straightened up and (Y/n) pulled his shirt back down.

He didn't see how his words caused his mum to frown in confusion. He had played football with Chris last week when they all went to the park together with Chris and Eddie. His back shouldn't be bruised this badly and the bruises should have all started to fade out by now.

Was he trying not to tell her that something else had happened? Had he forgotten that he might have bumped into something or fallen at some other point during the week?

"Okay baby, let's go home."

(Y/n) slung her bag back on her shoulder, muttering a soft 'thank you' to the receptionist while she curled her arm around Jack's shoulders and tucked him into her side. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, observing him as they headed out to the car.

He was walking like he was sluggish. If (Y/n) didn't know any better she would have thought he hadn't had any sleep last night and was running on last reserves. But she knew he had slept well, he barely managed to get out of bed this morning he had been in such a deep sleep.

The nerves building up inside (Y/n) only got worse on the drive home. Jack didn't sing along to the radio like he usually did. He wasn't nodding his head to the music or tapping his feet. He didn't try and make any conversation with her at all. He slumped down in his seat and blearily looked out the window like he had been stuck in a trance.

Once they got home, Jack turned to look up at (Y/n) with those tired blue eyes that made her want to cry. "Can I watch a movie?"

"Sure baby." She kissed his temple again, noting that he wasn't running a temperature which was one good thing at least.

She followed him inside and watched him from the living room doorway for a few moments. Jack slumped down onto the sofa with a thump and set about finding a movie on the kids channel, but he didn't look fussed. (Y/n) knew he had to be feeling unwell because he wasn't watching a new movie, he put an old one on that he had seen many times before with Evan. Clearly he wasn't interested in watching a movie, he just wanted the comfort of having something on in the background.

Her heart shuddered and squeezed tightly when she watched Jack flop onto his side a few moments later. He stretched out on the sofa with his face burrowed down into the pillow and when (Y/n) leaned over to look at him, she noticed he had his eyes closed.

He was going to sleep. He really wasn't well.

"Hey babe- buddy?" A frown pulled on Evan's features when he jogged down the stairs and caught sight of (Y/n) heading into the kitchen. But when he noticed what movie was playing on the tv and the shoes that had been kicked off near the sofa, his face morphed into confusion.

He leaned over the back of the sofa and rested his hand on Jack's arm, watching as his boy mumbled his name but didn't bother to open his eyes or look up at him.

Evan trailed his fingers along Jack's cheek and ruffled his hair before he headed into the kitchen to find (Y/n). He had expected her to be home around now, but he hadn't expected to see Jack with her. Evan was supposed to be picking him up from school in two and a half hours.

"What's he doing home, did something happen at school?"

(Y/n) felt a small swell of relief when Evan's arms encased around her middle and he pressed his lips to the back of her head, giving her a tight hug as his chest merged down against her back.

"He fainted in class this afternoon, and he's so tired." The worry was clear in her voice and by the expression on her face when she looked up over her shoulder to glance at Evan.

"Is he sick?" It wasn't like Jack to be ill at school, and Evan couldn't remember the last time he had known their son to faint for any reason.

"I don't know… can you go look at his back for me, see what you think?"

A quiet "His back?" whispered into her hair as Evan made sure he heard her right before he untangled his arms from her and trudged back into the living room. He could feel (Y/n) hovering close behind him and his brows furrowed in confusion when he noticed Jack was already fast asleep, breathing softly into the cushion his face was squished into.

Crouching down beside the sofa, Evan took care to be gentle and slow as he lifted up Jack's shirt. Thankful his boy was laid on his stomach so he didn't have to turn him over and disturb him.

"Jesus, what'd he do? Has someone hit him?" The anger was present and bubbling up inside Evan's voice even as he whispered towards (Y/n) who was stood in the doorway, biting her nail out of anxious habit.

If anyone had hurt Jack or done this on purpose, there would be Hell to pay. Evan would march down to the school right now and demand to see the child and their parents if someone had done this to Jack. They had never had to worry about him being bullied before, he wasn't exactly one of the popular kids but he was gentle and kind and funny and he had his own small group of friends who he got along with.

With a deep breath, he pulled Jack's shirt back down and grabbed the cover to drape it over him if he was having a nap. He was clearly feeling sick if he was going to sleep at one in the afternoon.

When he walked back over towards (Y/n), Evan reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, anchoring her into his chest with his lips meshed up against her temple. He could feel (Y/n)'s hands gripping his biceps and her head tilted down until her lips were pressing against his throat, causing his Adam's apple to bob up and down.

"He said it's from football, when he was playing with Chris last week, but he fell on the grass. Babe I don't think he's well, all he wants to do is sleep and he's forever got that cold."

It wasn't just today, (Y/n) had noticed Jack being sluggish and without his usual burst of energy for a while now. And he had been suffering with a cold for more than two weeks, which also wasn't like him. He seemed to be under the weather a lot just lately and (Y/n) didn't like it.

She could feel Evan's arms tightening around her as he sighed against her temple. Neither of them wanted to brush this off when something clearly wasn't right with their boy. He could just be suffering from a bad cold or the flu, but it could be an infection or a virus or an underlying cause like anaemia. They had to get him looked at.

"I'll book him in at the doctors in the morning."

***

A cold slither of dread crept down (Y/n)'s spine from the base of her neck right down to her lower back when she and Evan walked into the doctor's office.

She couldn't help but feel like something was wrong, like something was amiss but she couldn't tell what it was.

Her hand tightened around Evan's until she was sure she was about to cut off his circulation and her free hand curled around his bicep, gluing herself up into his side. She tried to smile when the doctor looked up towards them and motioned his hand towards the seats in front of his desk, urging them to sit down.

Once they were sat down, (Y/n) leaned herself to the left, pushing more into Evan's side as she tucked up against him in a vain attempt to stay calm.

"Thank you for coming in so promptly, Mr and Mrs Buckley."

"You said you had some results to talk about?" Evan looked between the doctor and (Y/n), a placid expression on his face.

He and (Y/n) had been worrying all morning about this appointment. They had gotten a phone call two days ago after they had taken Jack to the doctors last week and he had some bloods taken and an examination by the nurse. (Y/n) had been expecting to talk over the phone, she thought they would tell her Jack had a virus or he was anaemic and would need some medication.

When she was told to make an appointment with the doctor as soon as possible and come down for a chat about the results, she knew. She just knew this meant something was serious.

Their only relief was that they didn't need to have Jack here at the appointment, he could go to school none the wiser that his parents would be going to an appointment with the doctor about him. He was only ten, he didn't have to be there for the consultation. But needing a chat with a doctor meant that this was serious.

"Yes, we've had the blood tests back for Jack. We ruled out anaemia and pneumonia, but there were a few anomalies so I sent them across to a colleague at the hospital in oncology for a consult."

"Oncology?"

Evan didn't like the way (Y/n) stiffened beside him and when he looked down at her, he was frightened to see the panic bubbling up in her eyes. He felt her nails scratching into the back of his hand and he leaned in closer to her side as his lips parted and a shudder ran through him.

He found himself muttering "What is that?" towards (Y/n) because clearly she knew what that meant. Evan wasn't a nurse like Maddie or a paramedic like Eddie and Hen. He didn't know all the medical jargon and that word had already gone over his head.

"No, b- but that's for cancer." (Y/n) shook her head as she spoke and she felt Evan bristle in his seat like he was turning to stone.

And when she looked up at her husband, Evan looked like all the colour had been drained from his features. He had gone positively grey as a blank look flooded his face and his baby blue eyes started to deepen as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Yes… I'm sorry, the results have come back positive for acute leukaemia. It's a form of cancer in the blood, I'm afraid it's serious."

"No, oh no."

Bile rose at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she felt her stomach churning as she turned to the left and pressed her face into Evan's shoulder. Each strangled breath she took fanned against his shoulder and into his cotton shirt. She could feel him leaning into her, his lips merged with the top of her head and his hand curved round to cup the back of her neck like he thought she was about to break into hundreds of little pieces.

She could feel Evan's hand clenching around hers, pressing so tightly he was squeezing her knuckles together and threatening to pop them out of place.

Each breath Evan took mingled in with (Y/n)'s hair and he knew a tear or two had trickled down his face into her hair.

This wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

How could this be happening to their Jack? The results had to be wrong, but deep down, Evan knew they wouldn't be. It was a rarity that the hospital ever got any results wrong or mixed up, contrary to what some people liked to believe.

"This form is usually seen more in children, it's destroying his white blood cells which will weaken his immune system, along with affecting the way his body functions. The tiredness, easy bruising, stiff joints, long sickness, it's all symptoms."

But those were such common symptoms. They could all be accounted for by a common cold or a lack of vitamins or being anaemic. Those symptoms were relative and could be due to a number of simple, little things. Why did Jack have to have something as serious and deadly as cancer? What had he done to deserve this?

"Wh- how do you treat it?" Part of Evan found it strange that this could be considered cancer when it wasn't a lump or a tumor in Jack's blood. It was an inefficiency to produce the right cells and destroying the few good cells he did have.

Did he still need chemo or radiotherapy for something that was happening in his blood?

How were they going to explain this to him? Evan didn't want to tell Jack that he had cancer. That was the last thing any child wanted to hear and it was going to freak him out. But they couldn't exactly keep this a secret from him when they would be bringing him to the hospital for appointments and whatever form of treatment he was going to need.

"Chemotherapy is always the most direct and effective route, getting rid of the affected blood cells so proper ones can form. We'd also like to do a bone marrow transplant after chemo. All the blood is made in the marrow and if he gets healthy marrow, he can make healthy cells much quicker that way and get his body back on track."

A guttural sound emmitted from Evan's lips as he dropped his head forward into his hand. His fingers scratched into his scalp, tugging at his curls and scraping until he was sure he was drawing blood along his hairline. He could barely feel his other hand that was tangled with (Y/n)'s, they were squeezing each other's hand so tightly that there was no blood supply to either of their hands anymore.

Their boy was going to need chemo. Jack would have to come to the hospital, he would have to miss out on school and do his work from home or the hospital. He would become sick- sicker than usual. He would be run down, he wouldn't be himself. He was going to lose his hair, become weak in himself.

And they were going to have to put him through all of that if they wanted to give him a chance at surviving this.

This was going to be agony for Jack. Evan had heard about bone marrow transplants, he knew what that meant. Thick needles right into the centre of the bone to inject marrow and hope that the body would take to it and start using that marrow to produce proper cells.

That was going to be a big procedure for a ten year old. How were they going to explain any of this to him? How were they going to get Jack through this?

"So, so what, he goes on the list, for that transplant while he's in chemo? When does that have to start?"

(Y/n) kept her right hand curled around Evan's bicep and she leaned her cheek onto his shoulder, letting him do the talking as she felt like she was in some kind of bubble or trance.

Tears were silently pouring down her face and soaking into Evan's shoulder while he sat hunched forward with his left hand cradling his chin and jaw. His mind was starting to go on overdrive, something that always happened when he was nervous or panicked like this.

"We need to start chemo as early as next week, but the good news is we don't need to put him on the list." The doctor could see that this was a lot to take in, but he seemed somewhat glad that both parents were up to talking it through here and now.

It was better to talk through everything now and try to get some consultations and dates booked in as soon as possible for Jack's health. They couldn't wait and let him deteriorate, they had to get him into treatment now to give him the best chance at recovery and pushing through this.

"Why?" (Y/n) sniffed and brushed her sleeve beneath her swollen eyes while she stayed leaning into Evan's shoulder.

Was there a donor at the hospital who happened to be a match for Jack? Not needing to wait was a good thing, it meant Jack could be helped sooner rather than later and doing all the treatment now would be the most effective method for his treatment and recovery.

"Mr Buckley, your records show you are a complete match. If you'd be willing, we could use your marrow when we're ready to do the transplant."

(Y/n) swallowed deeply as she watched Evan sit up straight rather than being hunched over his knees. There was a solemn expression on his face but a faraway look in his eyes, like his body was sitting here with her but his mind was wandering somewhere else completely.

It was as if a wave of calm had washed over him and he nodded his head. If Evan was a match, then that's what they would do. It was much better having a relative donate, especially Jack's dad because that meant there was a bigger chance of his body accepting the marrow and taking it.

Evan would do anything for his boy. He would give him blood transfusions, bone marrow, he would give him a kidney if he needed it. Evan would die for him. He would do absolutely anything for his son and making Evan a full match was like fate was trying to make up for what the wrongs that they were now imposing on Jack.

"Do it."

***

(Y/n) felt like she was walking in a trance. It was how she had felt for the last few days, really. Everything she did made her feel like she was on autopilot. She cooked without really noticing what she was doing- and it was a miracle she didn't burn or cut herself with her mind being so distracted.

She tried to watch tv with Jack but the voices just turned into static in her ears and her mind started to drift off without really looking at the tv. And she could see that Evan was doing the same when he was home, it made her wonder what he was like when he was on the job.

Her hand tightened around Evan's as they stood on the doorstep and waited tiredly for Maddie to open the door.

She had been the first person they spoke to after they got the news from the doctor. They didn't know who else to call or what to do. After a lengthy chat, they had agreed to come round to see Maddie today while Jack was at school. As of next week he wouldn't be back at school, he would be spending his days at the hospital getting his first round of chemotherapy. Just the thought made (Y/n) cringe and cower down into Evan's side.

They both knew they must have looked a state when Maddie opened the door to greet them. Her eyes were glistening with tears when she looked up at her little brother and sister in law.

Maddie cocooned an arm around each of them and brought them into her chest for a hug that instantly made Evan feel a tiny bit better. Maddie always had that effect on him, she had always been that comforting, parental figure he went to whenever anything was wrong.

"Come in." She pressed a kiss to Evan's cheek before she pulled back and guided them both inside.

They were expecting to be led into the kitchen, that was always the first place Maddie went when they came over. She would either put the kettle on or source out a bottle of wine, but today she turned left and headed for the living room instead.

A cold shiver ran down Evan's spine when he walked into the living room and noticed two people sitting on the sofa. His feet became rooted to the spot and his skin started to bristle and the hairs on the back of his neck stuck up like needles. He found his fingers tightening around (Y/n)'s hand and he leaned into her side as his chest tingled and started to tighten.

"Mum? Why're you here?" Surprise flooded Evan's voice and managed to mask the uneasy discomfort that he felt at their presence.

He hadn't expected to find his parents here.

He could feel (Y/n)'s shoulders slumping down and her cheek pressed into his arm as she leaned into him a little more like her energy had suddenly been drained to nothing.

"You told them, about Jack?" There was no anger or betrayal in (Y/n)'s voice, there was hardly any emotion at all. She nodded when Maddie gave her a timid look, clearly thinking she might have overstepped a mark but if anything, (Y/n) was relieved. She wouldn't want to be the one to break this news to anyone in their family and she knew Evan would of had a hard time trying to explain this to his parents.

It had been bad enough when Evan had to tell his parents that he'd gotten his girlfriend pregnant when he was seventeen. His parents hadn't been best pleased that Evan was going to be a teenage parent, it wasn't something they had in mind for him and it didn't go with the modern family image they tried to pass off to friends and neighbours.

That was why Maddie had been more involved in Jack's life and why Evan's parents only started to get involved with him over the last few years.

Telling their parents only made this more real. (Y/n) hadn't told her own parents yet, she was waiting until next week when they were going to be coming over for a visit. This wasn't something she could tell them over the phone.

With a sigh, Evan trudged into the room and moved towards the armchair while Maddie squashed herself down next to their mum on the end of the sofa. Evan heaved himself into the chair, trying to sit up straight but all he wanted to do was melt down into a puddle and disappear. He spread his thighs and moved his hands, silently indicating for (Y/n) to sit with him rather than sitting across from him on the other armchair. He didn't want her sitting alone.

She obliged, relieved at the invitation and sank down on the end of the chair between Evan's thighs. Her back moulded up against his chest and she felt his arms curve around her waist and lock together in front of her abdomen like he was caging her in and refusing to let her go again.

"Maddie rang us, and we came straight down, oh Evan… how is he?" Margaret leaned forward and set her cup down on the coffee table before she tried to pat Evan's knee, but she could tell that the comfort wasn't welcomed.

He stiffened in his seat and shifted his leg until his mum retracted her touch. She had never been very good at comforting Evan or truly caring when he was upset and starting now simply made him feel unsettled.

He thought it was good of them to show some sort of support now though. It hadn't taken much for them to come down and see if they could help. That was more than two years ago when Evan had been in an accident and got his leg crushed by the fire truck. His parents had come down after Evan's third surgery when he was practically at the end of his recovery.

Evan wasn't sure if he was happy or enraged that they were caring about Jack more than they ever did for him. It meant they were trying with Jack, trying to get that connection and be in his life and that was good, but it reopened the wounds Evan had tried so hard to heal. The wounds they inflicted when they constantly pushed him aside and showed him how he would always be second best to them.

"Petrified." Evan nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s hair and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent to try and calm himself down a bit more.

"We've told him it's a blood disorder, we don't- we don't want anyone telling him what it is." (Y/n) tried her best not to burst into another fit of tears and she steeled her expression to try and remain calm.

They didn't want anyone telling Jack that he had cancer, not right now anyway. That would overwhelm him and scare him and they didn't want that. They wanted this treatment and recovery to be as easy as possible for Jack so they had sat him down and tried to explain that he had a blood disorder where his blood wasn't producing the right cells.

He knew he was going to the hospital from next week and he would be having medicine to try and sort it out. And when they had explained that he would have a bone marrow transplant- which they tried to explain as a blood donation to make it easier- Jack had been relieved to know Evan would be the one giving him the blood and he would be with him through the procedure.

It made Jack feel comforted to know that his dad would be experiencing something similar in the way of a donation and that his dad was helping him.

"Evan… we have to tell you something."

He didn't like the sound of that. His arms tightened around (Y/n)'s waist and his cheek pressed up against the side of her temple as he narrowed his eyes at his parents.

It wasn't often that Evan saw his mum look anxious like this. She was always uneasy, stern, usually unhappy and prickly, but she never looked worried about anything, at least not when it was concerning him. But even his dad looked uneasy right now, with one hand drumming along his thigh and the other hand entwined with Margaret's to comfort them both.

But when Evan glanced over to Maddie, his brows furrowed and he noticed his sister looked unsettled too. She was trying her best to sit still but she was starting to fidget. Maddie only fidgeted when she was hiding something, Evan knew the signs and he could see the way she had both hands tightly clasped on her lap and she was spinning the ring around her index finger. A nervous habit she had never gotten out of.

Suddenly, Evan wasn't so sure that he wanted to hear whatever they had to tell them.

"This leukaemia, it- it… little Jack might have it because it runs in the family." Margaret couldn't find it in herself to look at Evan, the guilt was evident in her eyes and so she looked down at her hands instead. Noticing how much she seemed to have aged in the last few years.

Had this moment come round already? Since the moment Evan had been born, Margaret had been dreading the time when they would have to tell him the truth about his birth and his life. She always thought that this moment was so far away, but it had finally caught up to them.

"What? Who else had it?" Confusion plastered across Evan's face as he tried to wrack his brain to work out who in the family had ever had leukemia.

Aunt Lisa had breast cancer, Evan remembered that vividly from childhood because his mum had spent two weeks out of town to look after her sister. And he was sure Phillip's dad had suffered with some ailment before he died, but Evan couldn't think what exactly had been wrong with his grandad.

Evan never saw his grandparents very often, Maddie had always been closer to the rest of the family than Evan was. But he didn't know of anyone close who had this form of cancer, and it had to be someone close in the family for his parents to think that it was why Jack now had this too.

"Your brother."

(Y/n) couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips and she huffed, looking between Maddie and her in-laws with disbelief welling up in her eyes. If this was them trying to make light out the situation then (Y/n) didn't find it helpful nor amusing.

What the Hell were they talking about? (Y/n) had known Evan since he was fifteen and not once had he, his parents or anyone in their family referred to any brother.

"Look, if this is some kind of joke I don't find it very funny."

"No Evan, this isn't a trick. We, we had a boy before you, when Maddie was two. Daniel."

"Maddie please…" The desperation in Evan's tone had tears welling up in Maddie's eyes and she coiled her arms tighter into her waist as she winced.

He was begging for her to tell him that this was some kind of sick joke that clearly wasn't funny. He wanted her to explain, to say that their parents were having some kind of stroke and none of this was real.

How could they have had a son before Evan and not told him? How could they have kept this from Evan his whole life? No pictures around the house of him. No acknowledging his birthday or his memory. No mourning or griving for him over the years. Not even telling Evan one memory about him. That was sick.

If Evan and (Y/n) had more kids but lost Jack, they would never just erase him from their memory and pretend he hadn't existed. He was their son, he was their world and if something happened to him they would want to keep his memory alive, not bury those memories along with him.

It took all of Evan's effort to stay sitting and stop from bolting up from the chair and walking away. He had to tighten his arms around (Y/n)'s waist and pin his chest into her back until he could scarcely breathe in order to remain in control of himself and stop from exploding.

"He got diagnosed when he was seven, we tried chemo, but it was aggressive. He needed marrow, and stem cells, so we, well, it was a hard decision, but we…"

"Evan's a donor baby?" Shudders crept up and down (Y/n)'s spine as she glared at her in-laws who she barely recognised.

"Yes."

How could they do that to him?

(Y/n) had always seen it. From the moment she met Evan's parents, she had seen how they treated him. He wasn't abused, but he wasn't loved or treated with much respect either. (Y/n) saw how Evan hurt himself, he purposely fell from trees, had skateboard accidents and broke his bones in order to get some ounce of love from them.

It was clear to see that they valued Evan as an ornament in their family, but as a son, they couldn't love him like they did with Maddie. When Evan told them (Y/n) was pregnant, they had been less than understanding. Evan was ruining their image and the ideals they had about the life he would lead.

And now it all made sense. Evan hadn't been a child they longed for, he was a tool to protect and save their other son. He had been a remedy that didn't work and they couldn't bring themselves to grow to love him when they never really wanted him in the first place.

"And it didn't work?" Evan unlocked one arm from (Y/n)'s waist so he could run his hand up and down his chin and jaw, tracing the stubble he was beginning to grow.

"We were heartbroken, and we didn't want you knowing the real reason why we- why we had you… so we thought we best not tell you."

"Are you sick?"

The cynical tone to Evan's voice made his mother visibly flinch and caused his father to shake.

What did they think they were doing? Why did they think keeping this from him was the 'normal' thing to do? Surely they would have known that they couldn't hide this from Evan forever, this couldn't have been kept a secret for his whole life.

If Evan had known the truth, he would have understood. He would have realised why his parents couldn't love him like they did Maddie. He would know why looking at him made them flinch or brought an old sense of sorrow to their eyes. He would never have tried to hurt himself to gain their love if he knew the reason why he was alive and the brother he never knew.

Evan would have let them treat him badly, he would have accepted that they couldn't love him and he would of had more respect for himself. He wouldn't have grown up believing something was wrong with him if he knew.

"Buck, he died." Maddie's voice broke as she tried to stay calm and collected. "When you told me the other day about Jack, I had to tell them in case he has it because of Daniel."

"You let me grow up believing I wasn't good enough, and all the time you knew why I was treated like that?" Evan's voice rose with every syllable until he was practically shouting at his sister, the woman who had raised him since he was a toddler whose parents couldn't be bothered with him.

All this time. All his life, Maddie had known. Every time Evan asked what was wrong with him, what he did to upset their parents, why they couldn't love him. And all those times Maddie told him he hadn't done anything, she lied and said they did love him in their own way. She even said she didn't know why they were sometimes cold-hearted towards him.

She had lied to Evan every day of his life.

All this time Evan felt like such a burden on Maddie. He felt like she had been forced to become a teenage parent, that she was forced to love him and bring him up because their parents simply wouldn't do the job themselves. Evan felt so guilty and bad for Maddie. He never needed to feel like that.

If he knew the truth he wouldn't have been craving love and attention so much, he wouldn't have relied on Maddie so much. He wouldn't have felt guilty because Maddie was the one with the guilt. She was the one who felt guilty for lying to him, she chose to care for him, she chose to comfort Evan when he was upset.

"I couldn't tell you-"

"Bullshit Maddie." The snide words snapped at Maddie and caused her to quiver and sink back into the sofa.

Evan felt himself starting to shake when (Y/n) slithered out of his arms and stood beside the chair instead. She had far too much adrenaline rushing through her to sit still and she could feel Evan bubbling up like a volcano that was about to explode.

"Why did you watch?" Evan's words confused Maddie who frowned and shook her head, for she didn't know what that implied. "You watched me hurt myself. You watched me break my ankle, my arm, I cracked my ribs, I got concussed. I nearly got fucking runover and you watched! You watched me do that for their fucking love. You think I would have tried so hard if I knew the truth? I wouldn't have done any of that."

If Evan knew the truth he would never have hurt himself. He would never have played so dangerously as a child. He wouldn't have skated on the roads, he wouldn't have climbed the tallest trees, held his breath and then allowed himself to fall. He wouldn't scrape his knees and break his bones and cry his heart out to get some sort of love from their parents.

If he knew the truth, Evan would have let things be as they were. He would have accepted the fact that their parents couldn't bring themselves to love him. He would have realised that hurting himself would make their parents fret and fear rather than making them care. They were worried they would lose another son, they weren't suddenly loving Evan like he believed.

Maddie should have told him, but instead she watched him. She stood by and allowed Evan to be reckless and hurt himself and scream and beg for their parent's love and attention.

Evan was sure that Maddie tried to whimper "I'm sorry." But it came out as a blundering cry more than a few broken-hearted words.

He pushed up from the armchair, hands balled into fists and his whole body reduced to trembling as he tried to decide whether he wanted to stand here and argue or turn and walk away. Leaving might have been a better option, but there was still so much more that Evan wanted to say, and he might not have these feelings and this courage to speak again.

Nothing passed Evan's lips when he glanced over towards his wife and realised (Y/n) was silently crying. Tears were streaming down her face and her eyes were starting to swell as she bound her arms around her waist and looked at his parents with such torment and anger in her eyes that Evan barely recognised her.

His hand reached out for her arm and he was relieved when (Y/n) moved her hands and clung to his arm rather than pulling away from him. But she wouldn't look at him. Her eyes were solely focused on his parents who were turning redder by the second and who were starting to cry too.

"You… don't- don't you see what you've done?" She did her best to steel her voice but it didn't work very well. "We didn't know t- the symptoms. If you told us we might have been more aware, more cautious… Evan, he… he's been so sick, and we…"

She couldn't finish her sentence.

They hadn't known.

Jack's symptoms were so generic and easily misconstrued as a simple cold or illness. But if they had known that leukaemia ran in the family, that Evan's own brother had died from it, then they would have been more aware. They would have known what symptoms to look out for.

They could have told their doctor when Jack was born and at his check ups, it could have been on his file as something to be aware of and look out for. He could have gotten help before now if they had known they were pre-exposing him to this form of cancer.

Guilt dwelled in Evan's stomach like hundreds of stones settling in his abdomen and crushing everything inside of him.

He turned to the right, cupping the back of (Y/n)'s neck as he pressed a wet, shaking kiss to her temple. He had pre-exposed Jack to this and he had no idea. Jack had gotten this from Evan, from his side of the family. Evan should have known, he should have been more aware.

"It's not your fault-"

"No. It's yours."

Tears continued to fall down Maddie's face as she gasped and pressed one hand to her chest where it felt like her heart was physically breaking into thousands of little pieces. It felt like a glass heart had shattered and each fragment was now coursing through her blood, splitting her apart from the inside out.

She hadn't meant any harm. She had been told not to tell Evan and how could she go against their parent's wishes?

"Someone should have told me."

This wasn't about Evan anymore, this was about Jack. Evan could just about grasp the fact that they had lied to him all his life, but when they knew that Evan could potentially expose Jack to this illness they should have spoken to him. He was seventeen when they had Jack, he was more than old enough to understand and to take in all that information.

He should have been told so he knew how to protect his son and what signs to look out for so Jack could be kept safe. Chances were that Jack did have this because it ran in the family and had been passed down.

"We kept this secret for so long-"

"When we had Jack one of you should have explained this to me! You all watched him grow up, you knew I was pre-exposing him to this and you didn't tell me. We could of had him tested! We could of monitored him a-and had some kind of awareness. But you just stayed silent and watched from the moment he was born."

Evan's right arm was encased against (Y/n)'s chest, but he moved his other hand to grip the back of his neck. He could feel his short nails puncturing through the skin, scratching at the short hairs and gathering flecks of skin beneath his nails. But it didn't do much to calm him down.

All of Evan's life, all of Jack's life, they had been lied to. Ten years, they had sat by and let Evan raise Jack in blissful ignorance that there could be anything wrong or underlying with him. They watched for a whole decade as Jack grew up and they never once told Evan that something might be amiss, that there could be something passed down to him.

If Evan kept a secret from Maddie he felt like his intestines were churning themselves into knots and he always felt his body prickling with heat and his heart had palpitations when he thought about what he was hiding from her. He thought she felt the same. But how could she when she had gone over twenty years without telling Evan the biggest secret in their lives?

When Maddie stood up, Evan glared down at her. His upper lip curled into a tight grimace and his nose crinkled as he wondered who on Earth was stood in front of him right now.

Whenever she tried to comfort him growing up, Evan always felt like he was home, like he was safe. Not this time. This time, as Maddie brushed her hand along his arm and tried to cup the sides of his neck, all Evan could feel was dwelling uncertainty and revulsion.

As Evan grew up and started to grow taller, Maddie started to loop her arms around his neck or she would pull on his shoulders to drag him down to her height for a hug. They both secretly loved that he was the little brother and yet he was tall and broad and could envelope Maddie in a hug.

But as Maddie tried to nudge Evan's neck and pull him down for a hug like she always did, her lower lip wobbled and a broken sound left her lips when Evan didn't budge. He tensed his neck and tilted his chin back, fighting off more tears as he refused to look at her.

She couldn't hug away the guilt she felt and she couldn't expect Evan to sit down and accept this like he accepted every other wrong-doing in his life.

This was different; this involved Jack.

Reaching behind his neck, Evan held Maddie's hand with a strange tenderness but she hated how he pulled her touch away and dropped her hand back towards her. He didn't want her to hug him. He didn't want their parents to try either because he could see they were now both stood up and trying to inch closer.

The slightest touch of Margaret's hand on Evan's shoulder made him recoil and stumble into (Y/n) as he tried to step back. Her touch had never been comforting since he was a child and right now it repulsed him.

"Don't touch me." The way Margaret uttered his name in despair didn't make Evan feel anything but anger. She had no reason to be so upset when she had brought this on herself. All three of them had.

His hand tightened around (Y/n)'s and he nudged her back until she took the hint and started walking towards the doorway with Evan close behind. They weren't staying here any longer. They needed to go home and talk and process this before they had to collect Jack from school and act like their world hadn't just been twisted into an alternate dimension.

"We're leaving. And don't think you're gonna see Jack on this shitty little visit, not after this." The way Evan pointed at his parents made both of them stutter and gasp and his mother seemed to clasp her hands in front of her like she was suddenly going to pray for his forgiveness.

"Evan, please!"

He had never heard his father say his name in such a desperate manner or sound like he was begging him. It was so strange that Evan almost felt like he was in a dream. But he wasn't going to relent and he knew by the way that (Y/n) squeezed his arm and kissed his shoulder that she felt the same.

They had come here solely to drop this bombshell and explain what they had done wrong. They weren't here to see Jack or ask how he was or what kind of treatment he needed, that came second. What they prioritised was earning Evan's forgiveness minutes after unloading their guilt onto him.

That wasn't how it worked. They couldn't do this and then expect they could still see Jack. Evan wouldn't let them near his son, not until this had all cleared up and Evan found a way to forgive them. Maddie, he would forgive. In a day or two, he would see reason and allow his guard to drop, but he wasn't sure when- or indeed if, he would ever be able to truly forgive his parents for this.

Evan was about to walk through the doorway when he turned after a second thought and glanced over his shoulder at the three of them. "You know, I may not have been good enough to save this brother I never knew, but I'll be damned if I can't save my boy. This time, my blood's gonna be enough."

Evan's sole purpose when he had been born might have been to save his brother, but his purpose now was to save his son.

And he wouldn't let Jack down.

I love the possible sisterhood!! Two scorned woman!

May Thy Knife

Summary: When Paul challenges the emperor, Feyd is chosen to fight your brother. Your brother couldn't hurt the man you love, right?

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader

Word count: 1,113

TW:  Violence, Murder, pregnancy and family drama  (let me know if i missed any) 

AN: I got this idea while I was doing my dishes and just had to write it down Also a huge Thank you to @angel-0f-verdun for helping!

Likes & comments are welcome! 

Please do not steal my work! 

You hear a familiar voice and start to walk to the front of the crowd with your husband hot on your trail. Once you come to a stop he puts his hand protectively around your belly. The hooded figure starts to talk when you interrupt him “Paul”. You thought he had died along with your father and stepmother. “Paul,” you say again trying to walk forward when Feyd stops you. 

Paul retracts his hand.“I see you have chosen a side” says Paul glaring at Fey and continuing his conversation with the emperor. Though you couldn’t stay still, eyes continually glancing around the room, you lay eyes on Jessica and the only other person bold enough to make eye contact. As Paul challenges the emperor for his daughter's hand marriage and the rule of the galaxy, you get a good look at him. This is not the same Paul you grew up with, no, that Paul had died. The emperor agrees to his challenge and chooses Feyd as his fighter. 

— 

“Paul if you love me you won’t kill my husband. Please be better than his uncle and the emperor, I’m begging you. As your sister, I beg you please.” You say as you step forward tears streaming down your face. You do your best to maintain your composure as Paul walks to you and Feyd. “May thy knife chip and shatter '' Paul says backing up to assume a fighting stance. 

You feel your heart sink as Feyd turns to you and kisses your lips so sweetly and tenderly almost begging for your forgiveness. “I love you” he whispers. You grab him and beg him not to. He shrugs off your advances as he steps forward. “May thy knife chip and shatter” he says while assuming a fighting stance.

“Will someone please stop this madness!” you scream, begging anyone to stop them. You start to walk towards the fight when Gurney stops you. “Please, that is my husband” you  beg him. He looks at you with sorrow, looking around the room you try to find something to stop this. You scream as Paul almost lands a blow, when Feyd retaliates faster knocking Paul on the ground. He points out the other women besides Lady Jessica who actively wince whenever Paul starts losing ground in the fight, Paul's pet. As they start fighting you start walking towards her, hiking up your skirt you pull out one of Feyds knives and grab her by the side. Whispering an apology you place the blade in a weak spot in her armor on her side. You know that she could easily get away from you but she doesn't try, maybe to grief stricken by Paul throwing her to the side for his own power and ambitions or maybe she thinks you’re faster then her. It doesn't matter as long as this catches Paul's attention. 

“Paul if you don’t stop I will kill her” you scream out still pointing the knife. Her eyes pleaded with Paul to stop fighting. “I love him, Paul, he is the father of my child and my husband. I thought better of you then to become a killer” you say looking directly into his eyes as Feyd stands behind him at the ready. Not wanting to hurt Paul unless he hurts you or his child. He could care less about himself, for the first time in his life he is content. He should have known that the universe would come and take it from him, he has done too much evil to ever be happy. Just as soon as you caught Paul's attention you lost it. He was back to dueling with Feyd, as the fight continued both men were covered in blood, both of their own and of each other. They both seemed to be growing tired but that's when Feyd got the upper hand and stabbed Paul in a non-emergent spot, but just as soon as he had done that Paul had stabbed him in the abdomen, a way harsher blow. As they fell to the floor the only thing that could be heard was your screams of horror. Dropping the knife you held, you ran over to the pair, Paul was pulling the knife out of his shoulder standing up and walking toward the emperor. Pulling Feyd to your lap you assessed his injury. 

“It's okay my love, let me go,” he said, wiping the tears off your face. “I've lived a good life with you, I learned what it was like to be loved and it is marvelous,” he says, coughing up more blood. At this point, you are sobbing cradling him back and forth. You don't even register the cheers of victory all around the room. Suddenly, a hand is placed on your shoulder, looking up to scream at whoever was touching you, you see that it is the woman you threatened to stab. She pulls you away from Feyd as men swarm him, doing god knows what. All you can think about is how the man you love is dead. The only thing that brings you out of that grief is the consistent kicking in your belly. The woman introduced herself as Chani as you walked through the halls of the sand dune structure. She shows you to a room and begins to clean you up. 

“You have to stop crying,” she says in a gentle voice. “You’re going to lose all of your water,” she says, grabbing her canteen and pouring you some water. As you greedily drink it you come to the harsh reality that you are now alone. 

“I don’t know how I'm going to do this alone”. You say while rubbing your belly, which was greeted by a strong kick.  

“What Paul did was awful, he has been corrupted by power. No thanks to your mother feeding him propaganda” Chani says. Looking at her you explain that Paul is your half-sibling through his father and that Lady Jessica killed your mother. “Ahh so being a traitor comes from her side,” she says pacing the room. “I can’t believe I ever loved him,” she says, throwing her glove at the door. 

“He hasn’t always been like that” you say, glancing at her. “His mother brings out the best and the worst in him, but our father raised him better than to be a murderous monster” you say holding back more tears. “My husband is dead, the love of my life is dead. Now I am to have his child by myself, I am all alone.” you say playing with your fingers. 

“You’re not alone” Chani says, waking to sit on the bed next to you.

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."

Tags in reblog.

anyone interested in a part 4 for my stucky omegaverse (milk and honey) au??👀👀

Princess!reader, who waited so long for her best friend, Sirius, to get back from war. She spent every night picturing him, how he'd look when he came home, if he'd still smell like the same boy she fell asleep against in the orchards..

She was so excited the day she got a letter from him. He was finally coming home. The war was over. He was victorious, and he couldn't wait to see her.

Only, when he came home, he wasn't alone. She didn't realise it at first. Sirius was all she could focus on, the way he swept her up in his arms, his muscles bigger than the last time she'd seen him. She didn't even register where he was taking her until he set her down on the bed.

Innocent and confused, she looked up at him, waiting for him to speak, to tell her all about his travels, the battles he fought.. but he didn't, and then she heard it.

The door closed, but sirius was already inside. When she glanced over, she nearly screamed. A tall, tan, scarred man stood by her door, with mousy brown hair and sword resting on his hip.

That's when sirius finally spoke. He glanced at the man before returning his attention to her.

"This is my friend. We fought together. You don't mind him being here, right?" He smiled, and her stomach flipped. She'd always loved the way he'd grin at her, too pure to notice how it's changed from the sweet, innocent smile he had as a child, to something darker, smirking down at her with something other than merely happiness.

She was nervous. She'd never been around a man like the one who stood by her door, but she trusted sirius. He'd never hurt her. He just spent a year in a foreign country fighting a war for her father, the king.

She couldn't help but feel a strange sensation in her tummy, though. She didn't know this man, even if sirius did. Her father had told her never to be alone with a man, that she always needed someone to supervise, but it was just sirius.. and his friend..

He was so big, and he had a look on his face that the Princess had never seen before. Sirius had gotten bigger, too. She felt how much stronger he'd gotten when he picked her up. His arms had nearly doubled in size, and his chest was firmer.. He wasn't just pretty anymore..

He was manly now, and it made her feel things, things she'd felt once or twice before, but never this strongly..

Part two?? (Pt.2 will contain smut if I write it!!)

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.

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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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