#Duncan Idaho x you

[yandere-wishes]

⭒ㅤׂ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʀᴜɪɴɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇㅤׂ ⭒

⭒⌒★ Yandere!Dune Men x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓏𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒴𝑜𝓊 ♡ ｡ ゜  

☾⋆ Paul Muad'Dib Atreides | پل معادب آتریدس

He dreamed of you again tonight. Something cathartic laying across the sands. Your touch haunts his skin, tracing scars and stars across his cheeks. He wonders what you see him as, something sacred or something exotic. Neither matters so long as you love him...

Paul's a volatile star, always one breath away from exploding. You're scared to touch the golden boy, lest your fingers return burned and your skull rattles with the echo of the cosmos. Still, it's hard to miss the devotion when his lips grace your knuckles. Hard to miss the cacophony of his heart as it reverberates across the desert. 

ᯓ★ Leto Atreides | لتو آتریدس

Leto kisses butterflies into your shoulder, the taste of your skin feels like nectar on his tongue. His mind is always racing vying for your affection, your attention, your adherence. He traces your name across his star maps, each letter scribbled in a melancholy blue. You grace his chambers again tonight, it feels so wrong to only see your silhouette, to not feel your love bleeding like his does. He kisses you again, something akin to devotion. He needs to feel you under him again, needs to feel the softness of your flesh under his fingers. Something in him shatters, something inside him rearranges. You make him feel so erratic. Why must he love you this way?

𓆩⚝𓆪 Duncan Idaho | دانکن آیداهو

his lips taste of chaos, he pours his passion into you. 

He feels you rattle inside his bones. Feels you coursing through his veins like unaltered spice. He's on another mission, laying in the sand and daubing your essence into constellations. He dreams of your fingers running over his muscles pushing adoration into him with a rusted kitchen knife. Your eyes never gaze at him for long. And yet each stare holds the weight of a nebula. He falls asleep to the phantom melody of your sweet voice. Dreaming of returning to you once more. 

༺🕸༻ Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen | فید روتا هارکونن

There's a blade in his hand, blood marring pale fingers again. In every droplet, he sees your face. Phantom pains rampage when he hears your name. He dreams of you holding a knife to this chest, breaking the skin, and riving through muscle. Each night your ghost plagues him. Hurting him in all the ways he craves. He dubs you ecstasy, overdosing on everything he wants to do to you. Everything he wants you to do to him. He etches your name upon his bones, dedicating each open wound to you. He's going mad over the notion of you between his sheets, limbs entwined in a bloody mess. His tongue craves the taste of your flesh, starved like the trees on Arakkis. He must have you, he will have you. 

-`𖤓´- Stillgar | ستیلگار

Stillgar's love is a desert tune, the winds rustling through the grains before the breaching of a sandworm. He falls harder and harder with each soulful gaze. He's spent his whole life chasing prophecies that he's forgotten how to wholly love something not written in blood and legend. He prays upon every star, that the maker has written your names together. That maybe some prophecy exists where you are to become his. He watches you sitting across the dunes, watching as the sunset pales compared to you. He whispers prayers beneath his breath, hoping you'll be with him soon. 

݁˖☘︎ Gurney Halleck | گارنی هالک

He stiffens under your touch, under the sonority of your voice. His battered heart rattles in your presence, the air in his lungs freezes and he momentarily forgets that he is a soldier, a protector, a tool carved to fight for the Atreides. He's not meant to love, to crush, he's meant to kill, to teach, to follow. A weapon in every sense of the word. And yet he'd throw the world at your feet for a sliver of your attention. Gurney can't help the flames that grow within him. The raging pyro each night when he catches a rogue glimpse of you through the crack of your door. He wishes to kiss you, to hold you. To make you his in every way he knows he can't. 

#dune #dune part 2 #paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x you #the tortured poets department #taylor swift #paul atreides headcanons #yandere paul atreides #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd x you #yandere feyd #yandere feyd rautha #leto atreides #leto atreides x reader #leto atreides x you #duncan idaho #duncan idaho x reader #duncan idaho x you #stillgar #stillgar x reader #stillgar x you #yandere stillgar #gurney halleck #gurney halleck x reader

[sroop]

ineta (ii)

When Duncan does sleep, he dreams of green and something gold looking.

Pairing: Duncan Idaho x OC

Warnings: violence, light blood/gore

Summary: ineta is backed into a corner, and finds that duncan may hold the key to their survival.

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Ineta shrieks and collides against the jagged stone walls of the dungeon.

Why it was necessary to remind all that they were in an Harkonnen dungeon escaped her, as though it were possible to forget. Still, the ram hung over a bloody orange field leered at her. Red eyes and claws. She had thought it a real beast, pouncing on her for its latest victim. She lays a hand over her pounding heart. 

"Miss Ineta?"

Ineta curses her feeble nerves, and draws herself up to a more dignified pose on her own two feet to greet the guard. He's a tall, clean-shaven man only a few years older than her at most. Soft eyes, and a mouth twisted upwards in a curious smile. She eyes the crest on his breastplate warily.

"What are you doing here?" he asks kindly.

Ineta nods towards the cells.

"The Baron orders me to see to the newest prisoner. I am to ensure his survival for questioning," she says levelly. Ineta doesn't wait for him to respond to move past him. There's authority in her words for servants, but soldiers were hard to predict, being more under the command of the Baron and his nephew. It was best to move fast.

"Wait."

Ineta stops and feigns an impatient scowl.

The soldier looks at her with something akin to understanding in his face. She's reminded of the same expression she wears when letting off a slacking maid or clumsy server. "You'd best return quickly then, Miss Ineta. Before the Baron grows impatient." 

He gives a small smile and turns to face the other way. Ineta smiles back.

"Thank you, soldier."

{}{}{}{}

Duncan Idaho is clinging to the precipice of life. At least he still had all his fingers, he thinks. He inhales harshly at a more piercing pain at his cheek, jerking his head away. The pain is soothed by a soft hand. He's been a fighter for long enough to recognize the the pain as a needle and thread, and the soft hand as a nurse.

In the darkness, he can't quite see who's there, though he's uncertain the swelling over his eyes would have allowed him to see at all. He cracks his lips open from the seal of dried blood.

"Thank you."

"You need to save your breath," comes the firm reply. He recognizes the voice immediately as the girl who'd been at his most recent beating. Duncan tries to remember her features, but recalls only the green color of her skirt and something gold looking.

"You saved my life," he says suddenly. It sounds clumsy coming from a spurt of belabored breathing, no doubt tinged with the dank, prison air. But he feels the need to thank her almost oppressively. Briefly, he realizes this is because he is unsure he will ever get the chance to ever again, and stops himself from envisioning a painful death.

No, he must not lose hope. His hands clench in on themselves, only to be unfurled by her.

"Eat it, if you can," she murmurs. Its grainy texture implies bread, but his stomach flips stubbornly. Despite its protests, he brings it to his mouth and gnaws with determination. It hurts to move, to breath, to swallow, but he'd do it if it meant he'd survive to see the red hawk of House Atreides fly again. He just needed a few days. They couldn't be too far off from their next incursion into fortress territory.

He feels her return to work, cleaning and sewing open wounds quietly and quickly, experienced with pain.

"What's your name?" he asks. There's a beat before she answers, like she's considering if he's worth the trouble of replying. Or if he'd survive long enough for it to matter.

"Ineta," she finally says. "Miss Ineta to you."

Duncan chuckles, immediately regretting the burst of pain in his lungs he feels. He clutches his chest and rolls his head over on the stone slab of a cot they'd given him. The cell, from what little he'd seen, was nothing but a simple square, enclosed on all sides save for the barred entrance. What mattered more to him was the corridor leading into it.

One way in, one way out, from what he'd seen. It was nothing but a single, unending row of rotting prisoners.

"I'm glad you can still laugh," she says quietly. Duncan doesn't really hear. He imagines Atreides forces marching through, saving them.

"Duncan?" Ineta calls gently, shaking his shoulder. He must have worried her, going quiet like that. She touches his forehead and sighs at the temperature. "You'll be alright, if you don't get any worse. I'll try to come back whenever I can."

Try. Duncan grasps her wrist. She shouldn't try, not when he wouldn't need it. In fact, she shouldn't be anywhere near him after tonight. He rasps, but the words are sticky with blood and catch in his throat. Instead, he drags her close to him, ignoring the pain of her palm pressed against his chest in resistance.

"Get as far away as possible. You should run," he says. This is foolish, he knows, it is entirely possible that she, the cupbearer for the Harkonnens, would run to warn them. But Duncan has always trusted his heart. He tells her anyway. "Run far, far away. They may not spare you."

He can't see, but he hears her gasp and stumble away. It's comforting to him. At least one person would live either way, the girl who'd shown him mercy in the face of his captors. Captors he knew were cruel masters from his time as a slave here, though he wondered what her true place was with them. Servant? Favorite? Mistress?

Duncan sighs and brings the bread to his lips again.

Moments later, he hears a body crumpling to the floor somewhere. Duncan exhales sharply, filled with cold dread. He felt hot in his head, and cold everywhere else. Useless and weak. He clings to the thought of Ineta and the hope that she will survive, that if she may be brave then he'd do the same.

When Duncan does sleep, he dreams of green and something gold looking.

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This time, Ineta manages not to scream. The horror is nowhere less, nor the odor of blood. Distantly, she thinks that it's odd. That that poor, kind soldier, dead on the floor, was not bleeding. And yet, it seemed the world stank of bloodshed.

She cannot tear her eyes from his, even when the Baron chortles.

"Poor boy, that one," he says in a sickly soft tone. "Lied for you, dear Ineta. Died for you, too."

The Baron huffs impatiently. "What is it about you? That my useless son should sire a useless girl, out of some servant on a hellhole of a planet. But that you are the one that they listen to." He looks at her intently, as though to discern meaning from her face. "Why do you inspire devotion?"

Ineta feels that she has nothing in her throat but reeds, snapping in harsh wind and making some eerie screeching of its own volition. She clutches her mouth to try to stop the sounds, but nothing does. She cries and cries, shaking her head.

"I admit, even in myself, I thought you were the best of us however lowly your birth. But this can be forgiven."

"No. No, no, no," she whispers. She could control herself. She really should, but what's the point now? The Baron knows that she was here against implied orders. It was less than what she'd seen him torture and kill for. No doubt, she shared the same, if not a worse, fate as that guard. Maybe the Baron would snap her neck too and be quick with it.

"Look at me," the Baron snaps.

He'd never seemed a more grotesque man than now to Ineta. He towered over her, perhaps triple her mass, with blood on his hands he seemed to relish in. Maybe it was the wine they drank, so dark and pungent it was that it might cause insatiable blood-thirst. It was her fault. She should not have come on some wild dream that she would do good, or that they might be able to escape. Now a man was dead, and she'd follow him.

"This is a predicament. But it seems you've made yourself pleasant to Duncan Idaho, I'd presume? My nephew is... not bright. But perhaps he was right? That Idaho is some lover of yours?" The Baron leaned over Ineta. "I might be motivated to forget this whole ordeal-" he says, gesturing to the body, "-if you were to produce viable information."

Ineta forces her hands from her face.

"Of course, my Lord." The compliance comes easily, after a lifetime of swallowing hard commands. This time though, her voice tremors. Deceit, she thinks, does not suit me.

"Good, it's settled then, dear girl. Leave, and not a word to Rabban or he will kill you both himself."

As Ineta flees, nearly running through the prison corridor where the Baron stood over his victim. She passes the banner of the red-eyed ram over its orange field. It had somehow become flat to her, and she does not pause to glance at it a second time.

Its power is lost. The real beasts, she realizes, are the Harkonnens. It would not matter if she gave in and extracted information, however vital, from Duncan. She was dead anyway, for the simple reason that she betrayed them. There was very little time to act, but she needed to see Duncan again as soon as possible.

Their lives depended on it.

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thanks for reading!

#duncan idaho #duncan idaho x female reader #duncan idaho x reader #duncan idaho imagine #duncan idaho x you #duncan idaho x y/n #dune #dune fanfiction #jason momoa characters #jason momoa #duncan idaho x OC

[thepaperpanda]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 3 - A Horny Kitten || Duncan Idaho x fem!reader x Gurney Halleck

Masterlist

Summary: When Duncan told you Gurney had a massive crush on you, you refused to believe him. You and Duncan decide one day to test Halleck and see if the rumours are true.

Warnings: smut (threesome, oral sex, MMF, anal sex)

Word count: ~ 1625

Author: Fenrir

A/N: the prompt for today is: Blow Jobs

In a meeting room, you and Duncan were waiting for another order when Halleck sat across from you.

Duncan already asked you to take off your underwear, so only your formal dress stood between you and a wandering eye.

Seeing that Idaho wanted you to catch Gurney's attention, you opened your legs to reveal a slightly wet pussy of yours.

Duncan saw Gurney’s eyes catch the upskirt view of you. This startled him a little, and he looked at Duncan again. Slowly, Idaho kissed your neck, spread your legs further, and looked back at Gurney. It wasn't long before Duncan noticed that Halleck had to adjust his cock, which was stiffening up under his pants.

When Duncan told you one day that Gurney Halleck had a massive crush on you, you didn't believe him. Apparently, your boyfriend was right.

As you scooted forward, you exposed more of your pussy. Your pussy was craving a cock.

"It is unlikely that the Duke will return anytime soon. Could it be better if we went back to our chamber?” You asked Duncan, turning your head slightly to look at him with a mischievous grin on your lips.

After brushing some of your hair aside, Duncan placed his lips on the soft part of your neck, exposing the softness of its crook to Halleck. “Yes, it’s a good idea.”

As you looked Gurney in the eyes, Duncan did the same to make sure Halleck understood the hidden message.

You were told by Duncan on your way back to your shared room that you had behaved very well and would be rewarded for it.

Once you returned to the bedroom, he stripped your plain, black dress, placed his keys and sword on the table, and removed his clothes, along with his boxers. In your eagerness, you crawled toward Duncan's cock as he sat on the bed. Before you got close enough to wrap your palm around his shaft, he jerked himself a few times.

You took it in your mouth and slowly started to give him a blowjob. As you gazed up at Duncan, you started sucking on his tip, swirling your tongue around it before putting his cock deep in your mouth.

You didn't appear to have noticed Halleck coming in; Duncan hadn't completely shut the door so Gurney could get in.

Your craving puss and tiny, pink butthole were exposed to Halleck as you gave Idaho a blowjob.

Gurney slid down his combat pants and climbed onto the bed behind you without saying a word.

Duncan's cock was out of your mouth, so you sucked on his balls instead. Upon Halleck's cock entering your tight cunt from behind, you let out a loud moan. After sucking on Duncan's balls for a while, you turned your gaze towards Halleck, moaning louder. When a new cock began to satisfy your long-hidden craving, Duncan was thrilled to see you like this. He felt Gurney's thrusts were firm and slow because each thrust rocked you backwards and forwards.

Halleck must have a very nice, big cock, judging from your expression.

A curious Duncan crept his head between your legs while lying flat on the bed. Seeing a nice, thick shaft moving slowly into and out of your wet pussy, already glistening in your leaking juices, he smiled to himself. Duncan started licking your clit from below as Halleck's balls slapped against your stack out ass.

Moaning loudly, you shifted your angle, causing Gurney's cock to fall out. Duncan knew you wanted Halleck's cock inside you again, so he slid it in again.

Gurney started fucking you faster and harder than before.

Duncan got a better angle on your pussy, so he stuck his tongue out and licked near your clit, while Gurney's cock also ran over Idaho's tongue.

Gurney's balls and cock contracted, and Duncan heard him moan deep while he dumped his cum inside you. Finally, Halleck pulled his cock out and jerked it a few times to release the last drops of his cum, leaving Duncan to clean up his mess on your pussy.

Gurney sat on the edge of the bed and jerked on his still erected cock, watching you push Duncan so he was in a more comfortable position before straddling his face.

You started bucking your hips back and forth, fucking Duncan's face as his hands gripped tightly on your round hips. Palming your breasts, you whispered, "Stick your tongue out, I wanna feel it on my fucking cunt." When Duncan complied, you reached one of your hands down your body to rub on your clitoris viciously, shaking in an overwhelming pleasure. “Fuck, that’s it, baby boy, lick my fucking cunt like that. Fuck!” You went over the edge when he licked your clit simultaneously, massaging your folds with his tongue. As your legs shook, you let out a moan, “Fuck! ”

Then you leaned forward and grabbed Gurney's cock, jerking it for him a few times before taking his shaft into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth as you continued riding Duncan's face. You got to taste your juices on Halleck’s dick. You were insanely horny, slobbering Gurney's balls and cock like a whore.

It felt like a knot was building up within Duncan's abdomen as he grabbed his hard cock and jerked his shaft. When he stopped eating your cunt, he exclaimed, "You're fucking delicious. But I want to fuck you finally, babe.”

With a loud pop sound, you pulled Halleck’s cock out of your mouth and with a sad whimper you got off Duncan. 

“Wait,” Gurney looked at Idaho. “Can I taste her first?” He pleaded.

Massaging his balls, Duncan looked at his friend. “Fine.”

As you laid on your back and spread your legs wide for Gurney, you rubbed your clit with your fingers already slick with your juices and Halleck's cum. “Come on, old man, what the fuck are you waiting for?” You whispered seductively. “I want your tongue on my fucking clit.”

Gurney grabbed you by your hips and pulled you on the edge of the bed, kneeling down on the floor; immediately, his mouth was attached to your needy cunt and he began slurping on your pussy, grabbing your pussy lips between his teeth to pull gently on them, sucking them in his mouth. He felt his erection growing hard again.

"Duncan," you spat flatly, looking at your boyfriend with half-opened eyes. 

As your boyfriend kneeled next to you, you wrapped your hand tightly around his cock, which was already dripping with pre-cum. With your sharp nails, you squeezed his balls between your fingers as you turned to him and gave him a long lick on his hardened shaft.

"Fuck you, Y/N," Duncan gasped, rolling his head back and slipping one of his hands into your hair to tug at it when you put his cock back into your mouth, sucking and gagging yourself as your hand jerked his shaft at the same time.

Gurney's tongue hit your clitoris as he swirled it around your pussy; soon he put two fingers into you, forcing you to put your legs on his shoulders, still covered in his shirt. "Fuck, your girlfriend is so fucking sweet," Gurney exclaimed, looking at Duncan, who replied with a proud grin. Halleck spat on your clit before he attacked your clitoris with his mouth, sucking hardly on it until you started whimpering from pleasure, your legs shaking again, and your hand slipping into his greyish hair. Eventually, Halleck stopped and watched you sucking Idaho's cock.

“Enough,” Duncan ordered, pulling you by your hair off his cock. “Straddle Halleck.”

You obeyed.

As soon as you straddled the older man’s lap, his hands grasped your hips, massaging the flesh there as you leaned forward to kiss him passionately; you ground your pussy against Gurney’s cock instinctively; he rolled his head back and slapped your buttocks, than catched them, spreading them wide as his curious index finger played with your asshole, causing you to moan lowly.

After rubbing his cock back and forth between your pussy and your asshole, Duncan slowly pressed against your ass. He felt you relax as his cock tip pushed inward; once it was in, Duncan pushed more and slowly slid his entire shaft inside your ass. He made slow thrusts to relax your asshole more. 

“Fuck her for me, Halleck,” Idaho grunted, sweat beginning to form on his forehead as he was making slow, deep thrusts into your tight ass.

When Idaho stopped thrusting for a moment, Gurney lined his fat cock with your pussy and pushed himself in easily.

“Fuck!” You screamed, putting your hands on Halleck’s chest for support. “Just like that, boys,” you begged. “Fuck me, oh gosh, yes, just like that!”

Each time Gurney made a thrust, Duncan felt your asshole tighten and loosen. He reached his left arm around you and touched your swollen pussy; he could feel Gurney’s cock going in and out of your sloppy pussy. Duncan stimulated your clit and felt your muscles contract. 

As Duncan and Gurney felt your contract around them, they couldn't contain themselves; the three of you came together.

When Duncan and Gurney pulled their cocks out of you, you rolled to the free spot on the bed and sighed. Your hand traveled down to your cunt so you could gather some of their cums on your finger and put it into your mouth, saying, "Fuck you, boys, it was the hottest fuck I've ever had. Mmmm, we need to think about more meetings like that.”

A blush erupted on Gurney's cheeks as he looked at Idaho.

"Now you know that everything I told you about Y/N being a horny kitten was true," Duncan smiled at his friend.

#Duncan Idaho smut #Gurney Halleck smut #Gurney Halleck x reader #Gurney Halleck x you #Duncan Idaho x reader #Duncan Idaho x you #Gurney Halleck x reader x Duncan Idaho #Gurney Halleck x you x Duncan Idaho #Duncan Idaho x reader x Gurney Halleck #dune smut #dune fanfiction #dune x reader #paperpanda kinktober #kinktober 2022

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Kinktober Day 10

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Duncan Idaho x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked.

Warnings: Fingering; slight sensory deprivation; unprotected sex; size difference; choking

It was the first thing you noticed about him. It was hard not to. Duncan Idaho towered head and shoulders above his fellow soldiers. 

You saw him first when you were tasked with delivering papers to the Duke for Lady Jessica. It had just been a moment. You’d had to slide past the Swordmaster—each of you had been rushing in opposite ways—and he’d rested his hand on your hip to steer you out of his path. Your skin had prickled with the press and heat of his wide hand. You'd opened your mouth to protest being pushed aside, but your words had caught in your throat as he'd turned to meet your eye. Neither of you had hurried to look away, and neither of you had said a word. Since then, you'd caught one another’s eye across various rooms, in halls and courtyards. You weren’t sure what spurred it on, but you were soon in a game of cat and mouse with him.

If you heard his voice, your heart would leap into your throat as you skirted around the nearest corner, out of sight. If you had no choice but to pass him in the hall, then you averted your eyes, praying that Idaho kept his gaze from your rapidly heating face. At state functions, as you forced your expression into a neutral set, you often felt his gaze sweep your form in your festival finery. 

When he did finally manage to corner you, you found yourself towered over in the dark corridor of the soldier’s barracks. It was dark, and late. You shouldn’t have been out of bed at all, and Idaho seemed to know that as well as you did. Now, one of his large hands rested beside your head, on the wall that you were backed up against.

“It’s awfully late for a lady’s maid to be up and about.” 

His murmur washed over you with the weight of a shout. Your breath caught in your throat as a glowglobe bobbed closer, illuminating his lascivious smile in the narrow, desolate hallway. 

“Are you sent on an errand, my lady? Or have you chosen to finally give into your impulse?” 

“My impulses?” You repeated, affronted. He chuckled, crowding closer and staring down his nose as you. 

“Your silences have been as damning as your looks, my lady.” He raised his hand, stroking his knuckles over your warming cheek. 

“There’s no need for you to concern yourself with my actions.” You spoke with as much conviction as you could muster, but it wavered as his hand curled around the nape of your neck. His gaze searched ours for a moment before he gave a small nod. 

“If you truly believe that…” He dipped his head, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear, “If you truly have not spent the last few months avoiding me, and your desires,” His other hand smoothed down, over your hip, “Simply say the word, and I will leave you be, my lady.” 

You hesitated, heart pounding in your throat as you noted the heat of him pressed so close. You raised a hand to push insistently at Duncan’s shoulder, then diverted the movement, shoving away the glowglobe, plunging the hall into darkness. The last thing you saw clearly was the widening of Duncan’s grin. 

Without the light from the glowglobe, the man’s body seemed to broaden, and stretch and cover you like a shadow. You felt the brush of his beard against your jaw before his smooth lips traced the same path. His hand slid from the nape of your neck, trailing down to the front of your dress. His fingers traced the line of pearl buttons, thumbing them gently before he gave the front of the dress a tug. You sucked in a stunned breath as you felt the fabric give way, and heard the tap of the buttons scattering across the floor. 

You raised your hands, sweeping the plains of his chest. You couldn’t free him of his vestments as he works away at yours. He smoothed his rough hands over your newly exposed skin, skimming and teasing one of your nipples as he pressed his face to your neck, laying sharp, sucking kisses. You lowered your hands to hook in the band of his pants, fumbling with the fastenings. Duncan chuckled softly against your skin. 

“Eager little thing, aren’t you?” 

The murmur made your body go hot with intrigued embarrassment. You made no response, other than to turn your head and catch his lips with yours. Idaho leveled a growl at the contact, his fingers tightening and twitching against your body. You hesitated before you gave the button fastening of his pants a yank. You felt the button whack against your thigh before it clattered to the floor. Rather than chastise you, Idaho chuckled again. 

“You’re not exactly proving me wrong,” He pointed out against your lips. You just jabbed him in the side, grinning at his affronted huff. Idaho gave your hip a nudge, then a push, urging you to turn. You did, shivering as his hands push the fabric of your dress up around your waist. One of his hands drops from your waist for a few moments. When they returned, they were warm and spit-slicked, running over your aching cunt. He eased in two thick fingers in one smooth movement. Your mouth dropped open with a strangled groan, and Idaho’s other hand raised, slapping over your mouth to quiet you. 

“I’m more than content to find you here. The Warmaster may not be nearly as lenient,” He warned. “Do you understand?” 

You nodded hurriedly. Duncan eased his fingers in and out of your cunt again, and you opened your mouth just a touch, biting down on his palm where it still covered your lips. You hardly swallowed a whimper as your cunt squeezed around his fingers. He curled and twisted them before spreading them, stretching your tight hole. You reached down, pushing at his waistband and grasping his hardening cock. He groaned low in his chest, the vibration rumbling against your back. You jerked him gently, smoothing your thumb over the tip. The angle was difficult, and the touch was dry, but Duncan didn’t seem to have any complaints as you worked him over. Duncan withdrew your fingers, giving your cunt a little pat before he gripped the base of his cock. You felt the brush of his pants as he crouched a bit to ease himself into you. You closed your eyes into the press of pleasure—

The sound of approaching footsteps quieted and stilled both of you. Your heart thudded roughly in your ears; the rasp of Duncan’s beard against your skin had the force of thunder. The two of you cast a wary, speculative eye toward the end of the corridor. A glowglobe bobbed ahead of a patrol of four men. They stopped, eyeing the hall. Your heart fell to your toes and one seemed to point in your direction. Another took a step down the corridor, then stopped.

All the while, Duncan's cock stretched you. It was a maddening sensation; he was only half-seated, and you were desperate for him to push in more deeply, to ruin you completely.

The patrol seemed to share a few more words before going on their way. 

You puffed out a relieved breath as they moved on. Idaho lowered his hand, smoothing it over your throat before he eased his cock the rest of the way into your clutching cunt. 

“Fuck,” You hissed, fingers hooking into the fabric of his shirt. You felt Duncan smile against your skin. 

“What would your Lady think? Such a filthy mouth on her most prim and proper lady’s maid.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut against the taunt. You focused on the feeling of Duncan pressing you against the wall, and the odd brush of cool air that teased your body as he reared back to snap his hips more acutely. The push of his cock into your greedy pussy made your body prickle with lustful heat. Duncan’s beard and breath puffed hotly against the back of your neck. He curled his hands around yours, intertwining your fingers and pressing them, and you, flat against the wall. 

Your breaths were tight from the pressure. You felt dwarfed in his embrace, swallowed by the darkness around the two of you. 

Duncan’s hand crept up around your jaw, tipping your head back just a touch. 

“If you can keep yourself quiet, this won’t be our last interlude.” 

“It’s frightfully bold of you to assume that I’d—I’d like another,” You argue, but it’s conviction is diminished by the way your breath catches in your chest. Duncan grins, sliding his hand lower to span your throat, giving it a harsh squeeze.

“Then tell me otherwise.”

Tag list: @leaveinthelurk ; @missredherring ; @fangirlfreakingout ; @stevie25 ; @jvalentinesworld-cokes-hyna ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @karie-me-home ; @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly ; @guyfieriii (tried to tag and it won’t let me D: ) ; @moonlightburned ; @amneris21 ; @shiftingsands14 ; @cloudohell ; @blueeyesatnight ; @inlovewithhisblueeyes ; @reaperofmen ; @winchestershiresauce

#Duncan Idaho x Reader #Duncan Idaho x You #Duncan Idaho/Reader #Duncan Idaho/You #Duncan Idaho fic #Duncan Idaho imagine #Kinktober #Kinktober 2022 #Youvebeenlivingfictional Kinktober 2022

[get-your-fics]

I saw your answer about Duncan reaction, and how Paul might pushed them together, and I couldn't stop imagining what if they fall in love and plan to run away, something like Paul has to go to other planet something about politics and he has to leave her and that's when Duncan and her run away. By the way I loved the story, dark Paul was amazing I hated him but it was amazing.

thank you! i'm glad you like it <3

i imagine reader would start to lean on duncan a lot and confide in him. paul would obviously not like how close the two would become, so they'd have to sneak around in order to meet.

pretty early on i could see duncan making plans to help reader escape. i feel like he'd be really protective over her. but as you mentioned, they'd have to wait until the opportune time, such as when paul is on another planet for a few days strengthening political relations.

or they could also take advantage of the chaos of the Harkonnen attack on Arrakis and escape then 👀 of course paul would probably hunt them down like a man possessed to get reader back, especially once he (spoiler alert) becomes emperor and has the resources of the whole galaxy at his disposal. sadly, i don't think they really stand a chance of avoiding him for long...

but overall, duncan and readers' relationship would be a lot softer and sweeter than her current relationship with paul lol (a lot healthier too). thanks for the ask!

(The Steep and Thorny Way to Heaven — A Rash and Bloody Deed)

#rosie answers #dark!paul atreides #dark!paul atreides x reader #dark!paul atreides x y/n #dark!paul atreides x you #duncan idaho #duncan idaho x reader #duncan idaho x you #duncan idaho x y/n #rosie’s fic headcanons

[lieutenantfloyd]

How they react to you suddenly kissing them — Dune preference

Characters: Gurney Halleck, Feyd-Rautha, Duncan Idaho, Stilgar, Count Rabban.

Warnings: Fluff, insecurity, brief mentions of biting and hair pulling.

Authors Note: I used to write preferences like this years ago, but I wanted to try writing some for my current fandoms :)

Gurney: When you close the gap between you and place your lips on his, he loses himself in the kiss before quickly coming back to his senses. He'd step away from you slightly, a part of him fearing that your affection is some kind of joke, or worse, that he's somehow taking advantage of you by accepting your advances. Once you've given him the proper reassurance, gurney will put his initial reservations aside and happily make up for your awkward first kiss.

Feyd-Rautha: When you close the gap between you and place your lips to his, Feyd-Rautha instantly takes hold of your hair and sinks his teeth into your lip. It's impossible to catch such a confident man off guard, especially one as psychotic and unpredictable as him. He relishes the kiss and the metallic taste that blooms in his mouth. Now that you've made your interest known, Feyd-Rautha has a twisted mind full of plans for the two of you, none of which include letting you go anytime soon.

Duncan: When you close the gap between you and place your lips on his, you can feel Duncan smirk before deepening the kiss almost instantly. He wastes no time pulling you closer and bringing a hand to rest on the nape of your neck. What feels like forever passes before you pull away, nearly gasping for breath. Duncan, being the man he is, goes back to his previous task as if he didn't just turn your world completely upside down. Though the small smile and glint in his eyes tell you he's waiting for his next chance to recreate the moment.

Stilgar: When you close the gap between you and place your lips on his, Stilgar's body stiffens against yours and his blood runs cold. His mind immediately starts racing, thinking about all the now-blatant signs of interest you'd shown him and how he should react now that you're in his arms. Unfortunately, his lack of reactions leads you to pull away. You only barely move before Stilgar's recaptures your lips, giving you a searing kiss in return.

Rabban: When you close the gap between you and place your lips in his, his instincts have him shoving you away roughly. While he doesn't want to reject you—and much less hurt you—the sudden contact triggers his warrior instincts. He gets worked up, yelling questions about what you were thinking and why you'd want to kiss him in particular. His demeanor turns uncharacteristically shy and bashful as he listens to your reasoning, and he doesn't object to a redo. This time he lets you take the lead, bending down slightly to give you better access to his lips and touch starved body. Any and all forms of kindness are completely foreign to him, but if your kiss is anything to go by, he's dying to learn more.

#dune fanfiction #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune #dune x reader #duncan idaho #duncan idaho x reader #gurney halleck x reader #gurney x reader #feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd x you #stilgar #stilgar x reader #stilgar ben fifrawi #glossu rabban #rabban harkonnen x reader #rabban x reader #rabban

[controld3vil]

chaotic duo

pairing(s): dune cast x actor!reader (platonic), oscar isaac x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: even your on-screen son can't deny how delightful his on-screen parents were.

notes: absolutely no shade to jessica ferguson i adore her too much. reader is considered to have fem pronouns. ALSO ive been feeling iffy about trying to write for dune characters?? personally, although i love writing these actor!reader stories, writing for the actual characters i feel would be more challenging. dune's still pretty new to me but i kinda wanna give it a shot if i can make a good storyline T-T

It all started with the Dune Cast Q&A brought together by Nerdist. Timothee Chalamet and Denis Villeneuve had just finished chatting with the host, Stephen Colbert about their perspectives on Paul's character. Much emphasis had gone on the young actor's performance. And Denis's decision to cast such a well-experienced one.

After finishing up their last question together, Stephen decides to introduce two additional members. "Timothee let's bring out the man and the woman who play your parents, Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica." A transition between screens to display your camera view and Oscar's. He introduces both your names.

"Hi!" You grin at the camera, comfortably leaning against one of the arms of your chair. Similar to everyone else's backdrop, yours was pitch gray, covering all but your silhouette and chair.

"Hey Stephen," Oscar greets at ease, as you proceed to wave to each of the people seen onscreen.

It cuts immediately to the host gesturing in continuation for a question. "Tell me and the audience about Duke Leto Atreides. What do we need to know?"

"He's the father and human. I think that's the biggest thing and uh under incredible pressure to save his family. Save his house but to adapt to this new existential threat situation which is moving to this strange planet," Your fellow costar puts into short. Short and concise was what was expected.

Content with his answer, Stephen moves the attention to you. He calls out your name, eagerly. "Rereading the books uh- right now, I am struck by how much of the story- uh the backstory and the action story is driven by the decisions Lady Jessica makes." A smile grows on your face, knowing how much fun was a character to play for you.

Along his last few words, you find yourself nodding in agreement. "I'm impressed with that you, Stephen actually read the books again!" An instant grin comes from the said man. "But it's all applause to Denny- he highlighted this from the book. In the film, her decisions basically create, fractures and disrupts everything."

"Best parents ever," In a low whisper, Timothee murmurs and the five of you burst into short chuckles and snickers.

"The best you could ever have!" You clapped your hands together, shaking them above your head in victory. And when the screen expands to show everyone's reactions, the audience can noticeably pinpoint Oscar's playful eye-rolling.

Another fun interview you had the pleasure of sharing was with Grazia UK. It was in a more comfortable setting. With you and Oscar in a lounge room, with the Zoom camera on. While the female interviewer complimenting a kind smile.

"Can I ask you something," Not within a second of the conversation, you rose up with a peculiar question. "Do you remember his beard?" Your costar beside you, looks away in disappointment. Even raising his hand to emphasize his discouraged state.

"A bit yes..."

"Yeah,"

"Yes!"

"Why? It was an impressive beard," Sort of clueless really, the interviewer says, of why you wanted to the topic up.

"Yeah, it was impressive!" Oscar looks back and forth between you and the camera, directing towards the woman on the other side. While you shriveled in embarrassment, leaning your head behind his shoulder, with a few snorts of laughter. "She doesn't even remember if I had a beard or not in the movie! She just saw it."

"Quite a prominent beard!"

"Yes yes, well I can remember so much," You chaste, leaning closer, locking eyes with your costar. Threatening really in a playful way.

"We shot together for a few months! How could you not remember?!" He exclaims, raising both his hands in the air in exasperation. You puff, adorning a pouty-like look.

"I work with what's in front of me," you turn to address the interviewer, pointing at Oscar accusingly. Because much contrast to what he looked months ago, he no longer had that impressive beard. He was clean-shaven, much to your display.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. "Apparently not!" Bumping shoulders with you as you fought back, poking him many times obnoxiously.

You both later discussed a provoking quote referenced multiple times from Dune posters. Fear is the mind killer. Truly a simple yet intriguing phrase that fitted well with the film. And in generally, you and Oscar compared each others quotes from personal experience.

"I guess you could combine them together," Taking a sip out of your glass, you eyed at Oscar. He hums back and smooths his hands comfortably down his hips.

"It will pass and love prevails!" He cheerfully expresses. Even from afar, the interviewer can notice how much fun you two were having with the question.

"Right and, it plays perfectly with the film," You add onto your little spiel, nodding as you go, "Besides the fact that- you know, fear is the mind killer."

The male actor lets out a long sigh. "Makes you forget how violent the movie is."

On the other side of the screen, the blonde interviewer shrugs her shoulders. "Well- it's only included in small parts in the movie."

It was your turn to hum, dragging out the M sound. "I think maybe the film focusses too much on romance."

A caught off cough comes from Oscar as he tries to his best to dismiss his your sarcastic comment. "I feel like there should've been more of it."

"Really?!" The shot pans to your exaggerated shocked gaze. You then turn to look at the interviewer. "He has no idea how to write a movie." Instantaneously the male actor bursts out laughing, shaking his head back and forth in little denial. Even you couldn't hold it together and giggled a little.

"You play Timothee's parents so spent a lot of time with him. What is the most interesting thing we do not about Timothee Chalamet?" The interviewer prompts, having their arms supported on top the their desk with pure keenness.

Pursing your lips together in concentration, your attention turns towards your partner. "Well coming from me- I mean I don't know if people know this about him or not- but he's very open hearted." Oscar continues, "And me, having to play his father- hence the beard!"

"Ah!" Giving more emphasis, you raised your brow in recollection.

He goes on comparing the analogy of having to play Duke Leto as a powerful leader of a House. Without his people and court, he wouldn't resemble much of an prestige leader. However Oscar later mentions that Timothee's performance was the catalyst to their relationship look authentic. He is young yet incredibly sympathetic towards what's to be done for the film. His time with both of you really sold your relationship as a family, you'd think.

"So that's a very generous thing to do for a young actor. And I was impressed and admired that," In the background, you can be heard mumbling in agreement. Your partner shifts his posture, facing and expecting you to go next.

Licking your lips, you took one last glance at him before focusing strictly at the Zoom camera. "I think for me, to have a young actor like him- he's very driven about it all. When he's on and off screen, Timothee's just focused- he's very serious and concentrates heavily on what Denny says- and I can say I respect that." You punctuate your point, tapping lightly on your knee. "And I play his mother you know, and I try to accommodate with that. I play along and we work until we find a good rhythm with each other." The older woman on the screen seemed enamored by your compliments regarding your costar. Yet her eyes quickly makes it's way to Oscar, sitting quietly and listening to you ramble.

His laidback posture showed how greatly he took your words in. You grab your glass and take a quick sip before hearing him say, "We raised him well." Taking your hand in both of his as a sign of pride.

A delightful chuckle comes from both you and the interviewer while your partner gives a satisfied grin. "We really did!"

The media did not need proof to know of your enjoyed time during the production of Dune. In fact, multiple vlogs and documentaries about the film had fans and viewers alike become fond of your positive and laid back attitude about it all. Despite playing a calculating character such as Lady Jessica, you were nothing of serious when on screen with your costars.

"Welcome to Arrakis!" You popped into frame, wearing an exquisite dress, costumed by one of the designers. It was golden yellow with chains running down from the bottom half of your face to your chest. A faint veil covered your head but for right now, you had it placed on your hair. You spread your arms with anticipation for the cameraman to pan around your surroundings. "It's sunny today so I think we'd be out here for some time." You moved extremely close to the camera, before moving out of the frame to the side.

Abu Dhabi was bliss. The production and crew worked diligently day and night working in the deserts. And on this particular day, most of the cast had been present as well for the introduction of House Atriedes on Arrakis.

A few shots slowly pans from the crew's tents and Denny far into the sandy mountains as he speaks with Timothee. Another shot slyly captures you showing Josh Brolin an unknown video, sideways. Which somehow made him cackle very enthusiastically, holding his stomach to air as you quickly pat his back multiple of times. In all, everyone of the cast members were having a blast in the dry outskirts of the unknown.

"Hello," Brolin pops in another clip where he stands, wearing the Atreides armor. Under a massive shade area, a few people can be spotted in the background, moving equipment and conversing with others. From afar, the people filming the documentary can be heard presenting a few questions for him to touch upon. "Ah what do I think about Lady Jessica being played by," He says your name sincerely.

The video cuts to you having a conversation with your on and screen husband. A hand covering above your face to shield yourself from the sun, while Oscar tries to move where the light is hitting you as the best he could.

"I mean a phenomenal actor like her playing in that kind of role is guaranteed to have an amazing performance. She's- We've known each for a long time since Sicario and with Denny," The male actor softly grins, staring at where you were. "But Oscar on the other hand, eh- not so much." His tone becoming monotonous, as if the shift in topic was distasteful to the touch.

"Whatcha say, Gurney?!" A scream echoes and it's Oscar, cupping both his hands into an O.

The older actor couldn't keep it together before breaking into frivolous giggles. "Nothing, my lord!" He takes one last glance back before seeing you give him two big thumbs up with a silly smirk. "No in all seriousness, those two are just the best! You can never have a bad day with them."

Another prominent section in the video fans adored was with the actors that played Duncan Idaho and Dr. Liet Kynes. This time they are situated in what looked like the structure of Arrakeen. Where all ornithopters were supposedly stationed and the introduction of Dr. Kynes.

"They're so mom and dad," Jason Momoa shaking his head playfully with his hands clamped together. Both him and Sharon Duncan-Brewster wore still suits unlike many other extras who wore Atreides armor. "I mean- they're playing Paul's parents- but in real life it's just so different."

"Definitely more chaotic," Brewster jumps in, earning a hum from her costar. "They act nothing like them."

A cool shot from different location displays you in a dark with Timothee. It was the scene after Paul is put to test to by the Reverent Mother. It was a chilling scene yes, but in post production, many realize how unprofessional you sometimes were even in the most serious times.

The cameras were not live however the film crew were about to pan to you gesturing back and forth with your on-screen son. It was a interactive and intriguing conversation you both were having. You looking in purely engaged with what the French actor was saying. After a few sentences being spoken, it looked as though you chided a teasing joke which gave the reaction of Timothee slightly snickering, backing away slowly.

"I mean do they look like my parents? No," The young actor states shortly. It looked as though the clip was shot right after capturing your cute moment togehter. "But I'd say- yeah Oscar Isaac's a great actor and- to be able to play my dad is pretty cool. Even though we look nothing alike." Nervous laughter spouts as he clears his throat.

"I feel like I get the resemblances from my mom though," Affectionately stating your name, "You can tell where I got my powers, good looks from." Momentarily readjusting his collar as he takes a quick look from behind, knowing your footsteps.

"See? I'm the favorite parent!" In hushed squeal, you wrapped your hands around Timothee's shoulders, earning a lovable grin back.

#dune #dune part one #dune x reader #dune imagine #dune 2021 #dune cast #oscar isaac #oscar issac x reader #duke leto atreides #duke leto x reader #duke leto x you #leto #leto atreides #house atreides #lady jessica #leto atreides x reader #leto atreides x you #leto atreides imagine #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #paul atreides #paul atredies x reader #gurney halleck #duncan idaho #liet kynes #bene gesserit #REBECCA I LOVE U #fr tho #spare us #NO BETE READ UGH

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Belladonna - Leto Atreides x F!Reader

Belladonna (Atropa belladonna) - Meaning: Silence, betrayal

Summary: Duke Leto's new wife has been neglected. When the Duke finds her under his Swordmaster, he summons her to his office for a talk but it ends up not being what she expected.

Pairing: Leto Atreides x F!Reader, (past fling) Duncan Idaho x F!Reader

Word Count: 918

Warnings: Slight Hurt/Comfort, fluff, Discussion of marital neglect/politically arranged marriage that leads to infidelity, reader has female genitalia but is otherwise not described, slight language, reader tries to appear aloof, Leto is probably OOC, feelings talk, a little husband/wife flirting at the end

Day 4 my loves! This is my first Dune fic and I have only seen the 2021/2024 films and read through some of the Wiki pages so forgive me if there are horrendous inaccuracies. This takes place pre-Dune by about 10 years, so Paul is a kid and Leto is a little younger but still foxy as hell.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are SUPER appreciated! Thanks for reading <3

The thing about Caladan, you had come to learn, is that no matter where you were in the palace you could always hear the ocean. The crash of waves against the cliff below lulled you to sleep every night since your marriage to Duke Leto about two months ago. Sixty days, of which the Duke had only visited your bedchamber twice. The rest he spent, you assumed, in his chambers with Lady Jessica. 

In fact, you had barely seen him other than your weekly dinners since the wedding. The dinners were silent affairs, you on one end of the long formal dining table and the Duke on the other. Conversation extended no further than pleasantries. You didn’t mind too much — a political marriage like yours wasn’t meant to inspire affection and since the Duke had his concubine and his heir, you were only there to solidify the alliance between Caladan and your home planet, Calypso-9. 

Today, you’d been summoned to his office to discuss yesterday’s incident. 

The incident in which he’d found you underneath his Swordmaster Duncan Idaho in the training room. Half-naked. Writhing and crying in pleasure while Duncan pummeled your cervix with his impressive cock. It had been months since you’d been intimate with someone, and during your self-defense training Duncan’s touches while he corrected your form along with the smell of his sweat and endorphins from the exercise had proven to be too much. You’d given in to your baser instincts, and fuck, did it feel good.

Leto hadn’t said anything, only caught your attention with a loud clear of his throat. When he saw your and Duncan’s eyes on him, all he did was about-face and walk out of the room. 

He maintained the same stoic expression now. His dark eyes bore into yours as he stroked his beard. You had noticed how large his hands were during your wedding ceremony, and you remembered how they felt on you while he dispassionately consummated your union that night. All you could hear were the waves crashing. 

“I think we’re both aware of why I called you here,” he finally said, breaking the silence. 

“You found me fucking Duncan. I apologize if you were offended, my Lord, but I’m not sure why you called me here. Were you offended? Jealous?” You honestly didn’t know why he would want to hash this out between you unless he was going to scold you for being so indiscreet, which you supposed was deserved. 

“What if I was?” He asked, gaze softening before he continued without waiting for your answer, “Even though you and I both know I have no right to be. Our marriage is simply a political arrangement and I have Jessica and Paul while you left your homeworld to come here and be ignored by the husband you never wanted in the first place.” 

Gobsmacked. That was the only way you could describe yourself as you picked your jaw up off the floor. To say you hadn’t expected candor of this level was an understatement.

“I…Apologies, my Lord, but-” 

“Leto.”

“Pardon?”

“You are my wife, there’s no need for formalities. Call me Leto.”

You held back a scoff, turning it into a light sigh instead. “Since this is the second longest conversation we’ve ever had, you’ll forgive my hesitation with familiarities, but alright. Leto,” he nodded gratefully, so you continued, “I don’t fully understand your meaning.” 

“What I mean is I am angry about what I saw yesterday but not for the reasons you may think. I’m not upset with you because I understand that I am what drove you into the arms of my Swordmaster. I am angry with myself for neglecting you so cruelly since our wedding and I promise to do better by you. Perhaps not to Duncan’s extent, but-” 

You burst out laughing, which caused his brows to knit together in confusion. His large hands folded in front of him on his desk as you tried to get yourself under control. 

“I’m - I’m sorry,” you said, waving a hand in front of you, “I don’t mean to be laughing, I swear, but…is that all it would’ve taken to get your attention?” 

“Well, no, but-” 

“To think all I had to do was fuck someone else…I would’ve gotten your attention weeks ago.” 

“You’ve…been wanting my attention?”

This time you let your scoff out, “Of course! When my father told me he’d found me a husband I expected some old, ugly lord with at least two dead wives and no heirs. You cannot imagine the relief I felt when we met and you were none of those things.” 

“I’m not not old,” he chuckled, ducking his head.  

“Oh, pish, you’re barely forty, and don’t look it.” 

He looked up at you from under his regal brow and you felt butterflies stirring in your chest. “And you are one of the most beautiful women who has ever stepped foot on Caladan.” 

You couldn’t help the blush that rose in your cheeks, “Are you flirting with me, Leto?” 

“Perhaps. You are my wife after all,” he smirked, standing from behind his desk and coming around it, offering his arm to you. “Would you like to walk with me? A proper tour of the grounds?” 

You accepted, resting your hand in the crook of his arm and subtly stroking his inner forearm. “And maybe we can stop in the training room?” 

His smirk widened into a smile and you were enchanted at the sight. “Whatever my wife desires.” 

#writing challenge #fanfiction #dune fanfiction #leto atreides x you #leto atreides x reader #duncan idaho #political marriage au #dune fic #dune fanfic #duke leto x reader #duke leto x you #duke leto atreides #in bloom

[estellaestella]

MACBETH // DUNE PART ONE & DUNE PART TWO

There's more of course. Prophecies. Visions of daggers and talking babies, etc

#Dune #Dune Part 2 #macbeth #shakespeare #dune part two #Timothee Chalamet #Rebecca Ferguson #Anya Taylor Joy #Paul Atreides #Muad'Dib #Usul #Alia Atreides #Jessica Atreides #Denis Villeneuve #Frank Herbert #feyd #feyd x paul #austin butler #witches & space witches #is Duncan Idaho named after the King in Macbeth? Pure character & all that good stuff plus you know Frank kinda gives him a happy ending et

[ofsappho]

THE KNIFE OF MUAD'DIB (Paul x OC!Reader x Chani) Part III: Duncan

Wherein na-Duke Paul Atreides is not the Bene Gesserit's only prospect for the Kwisatz Haderach. Raised by Paul's side as his playmate and servant, Chryse, the Bene Gesserit's cuckoo child, will forge a new future for her master.

(previously posted on AO3 as Themis)

(Note: I invented some stuff/added some new terminology to make up for worldbuilding that didn't happen in canon. If you have questions just send me an ask!)

PART III: DUNCAN

Duncan did not consider himself an unnecessarily stubborn man. Though he was initially wary of including Lady Jessica’s young Bene Gesserit handmaiden in Paul’s combat training, a year had proven that Paul flourished with the addition of a sparring opponent who matched him in strength and size.

One, two, three. His pupils’ current sparring bout played out in front of him in the training room. The sound of each blow and each block echoed off the walls like a heartbeat. “Arms up, Paul.” Duncan cautioned.

At the reminder, the youth straightened up and his gangly arms, now starting to finally bulk out to Paul’s poorly-hidden satisfaction, came up to properly defend his head and torso. His black curls stuck to his forehead with sweat while a fierce expression furrowed his young brow.

That expression brought a fond smile to Duncan’s face. Paul’s father looked like that when he fought.

Since he had added full contact sparring to Paul’s training, Duncan was pleased to note that the boy continued to earn that privilege with his devotion to every lesson. His scrawny charge appeared early in the training room with eagerness written across his open face every day.

Of course, he still got into mischief and roped his companion into it frequently - that was just Paul’s way. His attitude had greatly improved since that final, fateful temper tantrum and since his lady mother enlisted that girl into her household.

At twelve, Paul had begun to settle into the features that Duncan imagined he would retain into adulthood. Though he could hardly match his tutor in stature or build now, he was growing like a weed. The boy would easily be as tall as him one day, if not taller.

He could still remember the squirming little bundle Leto had pressed into his arms mere hours after Paul’s birth. When the infant’s eyes had met his, he saw the same emerald green eyes of the Duke and his father before him. Duncan felt privileged to have been able to watch that baby grow into a capable, earnest boy.

Paul was, in a way, the son of his heart.

Even though he seemed to be growing into the very image of his father, Duncan could see himself in Paul too. When he was only a toddler, Paul did his very best to imitate the swordmaster’s mannerisms. That child had been so sincere that all who saw him couldn’t help but chuckle.

Now, Paul had grown to unconsciously mimic the way Duncan carried himself, the length of his stride, the way he gestured with his hands. There was no better legacy the warrior wished to leave behind than this youth, a true child of the three of them - Leto, Jessica, and Duncan.

He had taken to combat with the same ease his father had, at nearly the same age, the swordmaster thought as he watched with fondness and pride. Paul darted, quick as a hunter-seeker, past Chryse’s strikes only to counter with his own.

That his liege had entrusted Paul’s training to him was a great honor. The boy in front of him, fighting with a keenness much older than his age, could yet match his noble father in excellence. Whether or not Paul would exceed him remained to be seen.

One did not so easily clear the bar set by Leto Atreides. The Ginaz swordmaster remembered how at newly fifteen, coral disk in hand, he had been sent to join Duke Mintor Atreides’ household and accompany his son and heir, na-Duke Leto Atreides. 

His lord had always been different. Leto had been a mere teenager when they first met, itching to prove his might against the Harkonnens in battle, yet he was wise and principled in a way that Duncan had never known.

Ginaz built master swordsmen and tacticians, not people. Not lords.

After their first spar, after the way Leto clasped his hand and pulled him up from the ground after the na-Duke had sent him sprawling, Duncan knew he would follow that man to the edge of the Imperium and beyond.

There might have been shame and failure in defeat at the hands of a different man. There was no shame in his heart when Leto raised him up, as there was no shame in bowing to the might of the wind.

Later that night, Leto had clasped their calloused hands together, and Duncan remembered thinking, he is half of my soul.

Even the Emperor knew of the then na-Duke Leto’s integrity and the effortless way he commanded respect and loyalty. Thufir Hawat, the most fearsome Mentat in the Imperium, had sworn his fealty to Leto as he had to Mintor and Paulos. The legendary bard-warrior, Gurney Halleck, was plucked out of the Harkonnen slave-pits by Leto and pledged his life to him in return.

The Duke earned every ounce of allegiance given to him.

From that first day on, the Ginaz swordmaster knew he would follow House Atreides until the end of his life. For what was glory, if not serving Leto and his family with all Duncan had? To give his life over to the keeper of his soul?

He would die for his lord without question. The Duke knew this and pressed a more difficult task upon the swordmaster - to live for him, should Leto die first, so that Duncan could protect Paul.

One, two, three. The two children danced around each other on the floor mats before Paul pushed Chryse back far enough that she could not reach him without an answering attack that would do real damage. She stopped for a moment, her gaze darting around the room to catalog everything like a Mentat, and waited for Paul to catch his breath.

“Again,” Duncan commanded, his voice harsher than it should be.

A sigh escaped him at the sight of her barely concealed flinch. He really shouldn’t have barked at her like that. Chryse had never done anything to Paul or Duke Leto. Her presence had lifted Paul’s spirits and challenged him to strive further by all accounts, including his own. The retainer watched the children fight a while longer before halting practice for the day. The two of them gathered cups of water and returned to the mat to stretch, Paul’s carefree chatter filling the room.

Duncan had only lived this long through trusting in his instincts. Around Bene Gesserit, his instincts told him that there was something terribly wrong with these women.

All that said, he and Jessica had come to a consensus many years ago over their shared lord and lover. She made Leto happy. When the woman presented his soulmate with a son and heir, the Duke had never been more pleased. Duncan would die to protect that happiness. He would never go so far as to call her a friend, but they were cordial with one another, and he served and protected her as was his duty.

Though it didn’t matter how cordial and respectful she was to the swordmaster or how many smiles she brought to Leto’s face, Duncan trusted any member of her order about as far as he could throw one.

Her little handmaiden unnerved him in the same way they did.

The day Chryse joined her household, Jessica had pulled him aside. He remembered being taken aback by the wild, desperate fear in her eyes. That smooth voice of hers had only the barest quiver when she informed him of the girl that the Imperial truthsayer delivered in-person to Caladan.

At her words, the swordmaster straightened up while one of his hands strayed to the long sword, sheathed at his belt. “Is she going to pose a threat?” He growled out. That truthsayer be damned. The whole Bene Gesserit be damned. He would protect Leto and Paul at any cost.

He counted the time she took to respond in heartbeats. With each beat that passed, ire set deeper into his bones, and he stepped closer to the lady to press for her answer.

Jessica looked away from Duncan to her pale hands as if examining the tendons that lay beneath the skin. In the moment before she answered, her imperious expression twisted into what looked like shame. Duncan blinked, and the guilt was gone so fast, he wondered if he’d imagined it. 

“...No.”

Their gazes met. He trusted her to protect their family. Jessica knew that. While her trepidation alone was enough to mark this unknown girl as a threat in Duncan’s mind, he had faith that Jessica would never let anyone bring harm to House Atreides. To Leto.

Duncan perused her face, looking for any hint of a lie. She seemed truthful enough. “Alright.” He stepped back. That was hardly a satisfactory answer, but Duncan would let it lie as Jessica was indiscernible once more.

She neatly tucked her hands behind her back, out of his sight. “Her name is Chryse. She is to be my handmaiden when she grows older, but for now, I’d like her to accompany Paul to his sparring lessons with you.” Duncan knew Jessica well enough to know when she was giving a command, one framed diplomatically as a request.

The urge to refuse that command was strong, but he instantly understood what she meant under her poised words. Jessica would never jeopardize Paul and Leto by allowing a known threat into their house. This girl was an unknown. Should anything happen under his supervision, Jessica knew he would protect Paul. Duncan did not doubt that she’d arranged other minders for the little handmaiden when he wouldn’t be there.

He would obey his lady’s command, and the two of them would guard Paul against this unknown.

Chryse was quiet, quieter than any child of her age he’d ever known. They had met for the first time when a giddy Paul had dragged her behind him, both to show off his new companion and to seek Duncan’s approval.

She and Jessica shared the same placid countenance that all Bene Gesserit had, a countenance that unnerved him every time he experienced it. The ice in her face only melted when Paul looked to her to ensure her attention during one of his rambles about the latest filmbook he’d seen or when Paul asked her some sort of open-ended question with the bright curiosity of a young child.

When anyone set choices in front of her, the girl seemed overwhelmed and lost. Chryse shied away from decisions, and Paul seemed to enjoy earnestly guiding her through them, even if he hadn’t entirely realized he was doing so. Duncan was grateful Paul didn’t have an ounce of selfishness or ill-intent towards her, for her sake.

There was something wrong with her. The swordmaster was sure of it, and that surety set him on edge. Duncan had observed her during their first lesson - when Chryse fought, Duncan felt that combat was intrinsic to her and required no conscious effort on her part. As if she was constructed instead of raised.

Halleck’s beloved Orange Catholic Bible came to mind. Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a human mind.

Hunter-seekers were constructed for combat, too, though those machines had to be operated by someone else, somewhere else. He feared that someone, somewhere, was operating this girl.

Duncan Idaho knew that time was not an enemy, unlike what many other men thought. It was an ally. So he waited, and he watched.

Of course, Duncan had sparred with her himself before so much as letting her near Paul with a bokken. The girl-child didn’t only land one hit - she landed many. She left bruises. For a few moments during the fight, he almost stopped seeing her as a child in his care, not more than ten standard years old. Chryse was another enemy, another Harkonnen or Sardaukar, and Duncan Idaho couldn’t see past that until she was sprawled on the training mat beneath him, the tip of his bokken under her small jaw. One particularly forceful blow and he’d have broken her neck. The child hadn’t responded or whispered a word in protest. She merely continued to look up at Duncan with her large, guileless eyes, like a calf going to slaughter.

In the year since their first meeting, Chryse had managed to put his initial fears to rest. She had a very marked reluctance to physically injure Paul when the two of them sparred and would go out of her way to avoid doing so, even if that action put her at a disadvantage. It frustrated the boy to no end, but Duncan preferred it to the alternative. There were no threats or thwarted assassination attempts from her or anyone else. It seemed like the only people who held Chryse’s reins were them.

But Duncan was not completely heartless. The more time she spent with Paul, the less overwhelmed she seemed. Chryse’s movements were still uncanny, but he watched her slowly become more like a child and less like a weapon, like a winter melted into spring. The girl tended towards a rather endearing wide-eyed naïveté and innocent wonder.

The two of them had grown since their first meeting in directions that complimented the other. Paul wasn’t nearly as restless and dissatisfied as he had been. She grounded him and made him happy in a way the adults in his life simply couldn’t. The boy had continued to guide and nurture her, and Chryse had continued to trust in him enthusiastically. They reminded Duncan of the young vines Jessica tended to in the gardens, intrinsically and unconsciously intertwined as they reached for the sun.

Time was an ally. Duncan had time to continue watching her and ensure she wouldn’t grow into her potential as a threat. Paul had time to grow into his potential as a soldier, a warrior who could defend himself.

A servant appeared in the doorway. “Pardon me, Sir. Lady Jessica requests her handmaiden’s assistance in her presence-chamber.” He nodded his assent quickly and gestured for Chryse to follow after the attendant. The girl hesitated for a moment, seemingly ill at ease. Duncan didn’t miss her unease or the way she tamped down on it with force.

Paul had rounded on Duncan as soon as she’d left without a backward glance, endearingly chattering on about their lesson. “I think I did better today with the grappling? I’m trying-” For the moment, the swordmaster would put away his concerns, and he turned his attention to the boy in front of him.

Paul attempted to duck away from Duncan’s hand but failed to avoid a fond ruffle of his dark hair. “You did well, Paul.” The retainer didn’t give out empty praise - Duncan knew his honesty would benefit Paul the most. Chryse was unnervingly quick at picking up the forms and throws she learned, but Paul even now had a bright mind that could anticipate her moves in advance and adjust instantly to compensate. He had an innate control of every spar; there again, Duncan could see Leto in him. 

“I’m proud of you.”

Paul stopped short at his words. He looked then like the small child Paul had been, a child who clung to Duncan’s every word and often looked for his approval and attention. Before he could respond, the tutor continued. “Listen to me. I know you know that one day, you must be Duke Atreides. To you, that seems far away and impossible right now.” Duncan could see Paul’s uncertainty whenever his future as the Duke was brought up as clear as day, for all of the boy’s feigned confidence and maturity.

The Dukedom was his by right of birth. But the potential and capability to be a great man, a great leader, a great Duke; that was all Paul. No great ancestor or accomplished relative could have given Paul that. While the boy didn’t have an inherently boastful or vain temperament, Paul lacked true confidence in spades. Without it, he would fail.  “I have never lied to you, and I do not intend to start now. When that time comes, you will be deserving of it. I promise you.”

The boy grew somber at the weight behind Duncan’s words, and his green eyes stayed fixed on the man’s face.

The Harkonnens circled ever closer, their military might backed by the obscene riches they drained from Arrakis. 

At the emperor’s command, Leto had been called before the Landsraad that week to negotiate a dispute between their quadrant and an adjacent quadrant.

The Great Houses under Leto’s jurisdiction as Warden of Centaurus Quadrant had risen against the Great Houses of Bode Quadrant. The skirmishes grew bloodier by the day. If House Atreides could not keep the peace, the emperor wouldn’t hesitate to strip them of the wardenship. Padishah Shaddam IV looked for every chance to undermine Leto.

The moment they finished in the training room, Duncan planned to head straight to the war chamber to coordinate the deployment of Atreides troops to the many planets under their dominion, under Leto’s orders. Ideally, they would halt the bloodshed entirely, but judging from the most recent intelligence from Hawat, protracted disputes were the more realistic outcome.

As sheltered as his childhood was, Paul had only known peace. Duncan did not doubt that peace would be in shorter supply when the boy reached the age of majority. Dukehood was his right, and Paul needed to know it. Belief in that right was all that stood between him and his possible destruction.

Paul straightened up under Duncan’s gaze. “Leading our House is your right, Paul. It is what you are owed. You need to own it.” Steel settled in the boy’s gaze, and Duncan grew pleased at the sight of it. Paul would take his words to heart.

When Paul responded, his voice seemed to echo off the walls with a gravity that far outstripped his age. “I understand.” There were still a million and one different ways the boy could falter, and hundreds of thousands of other factors that might end their House. 

But the youth standing before him wore an expression of ancient understanding, some otherworldly wellspring of memory and experience. There was no reasonable explanation for how Paul had come to that understanding right here, right now, but it was so intrinsic that Duncan didn’t question it at the moment.

The moment between them passed, and the peculiar awareness that had taken over this twelve-year-old boy went with it. What in the Imperium had just happened?

As if nothing odd had occurred, Paul bowed as he always did at the end of sparring lessons. “May I be excused?” Duncan silently nodded and watched as Paul dashed from the room, no doubt in search of his mother or Gurney Halleck, or off to his room to put on another one of those filmbooks he liked so much.

The swordmaster had felt the same distinctive unease around Paul that he felt around Bene Gesserit. Duncan knew how to pick his battles, though, and the boy seemed fine and, most importantly, safe enough. Under Jessica’s careful eye, Paul was not likely to harm himself somehow with… whatever that was. It would suffice for now, and later Duncan would press Jessica into a conversation about what sort of alien mess her religious cult had undoubtedly dragged Paul into. While he didn’t have any proof those witches were involved, it seemed highly unlikely that they didn’t have anything to do with it.

If he needed to guard Paul against himself, he would do it. Right now, though, Duncan had a more pressing priority of holding the quadrant together so Leto could return from the Landsraad safely and in victory.

He could feel a headache building behind his eyes. With a resigned sigh, Duncan left the training room.

Ah yes the iconic queer dynamic of "lord and the knight who would die for him and the lord's lady)

Tagging: @redskull199987@itsemy01@blahzaiblahsheep@herebereblogs @spacenotwar @assorted-fandom-things @hogwartshouse @mylenne-16

#dune #the dune books #dune books #dune movie #dune 1 #dune part 1 #dune part 2 #paul atreides #chani #paul atreides x you #paul atreides x reader #timothee chalamet #lady jessica #paul x chani #paul atreides x chani #paul atreides x you x chani #dune fanfiction #the knife of muad'dib #duncan idaho #leto atreides x duncan idaho #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you

[sroop]

ineta (i)

"What do you say, Ineta? Is he insignificant enough to die a fast death?"

Pairing: Duncan Idaho x OC

Warnings: violence, blood, brief discussion of sexual harassment

Summary: a chance reunion with duncan idaho gives ineta the chance of a lifetime to get out from under the thumbs of the Harkonnens.

A/N: slowburnnnn

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The wine smells especially pungent today. As Ineta pours it into the Baron's cup, its scent seems to cling to her, metallic and a little sulfurous. And yet she's grateful for it today; its odor almost distracts her from the wet crunch of breaking ribs as Count Rabban pummels his prisoner further into the ground.

Maybe it's not the wine that smells metallic, she thinks, eyeing the growing puddles of blood on the floor. As they grow ever larger, so does the tremble in her hands. She looks instead to the high, vaulted ceiling of the hall where her master took meals.

Every night, she stood at dinner with a pitcher of wine in her arms. It was a duty she addressed with distant dread, an ordeal to be endured patiently in exchange for the relative security and even dignity it offered in the House of the Harkonnens. Frankly, it was a job she much preferred over having to scrub floors or sweep vents. Besides, the Harkonnens were not a sentimental bunch, but they were proud. They would never let anyone with Harkonnen blood, even the illegitimate sort, to stoop so low. For their own reputations, of course.

Ineta ponders this, not realizing that Rabban was staring at her intently now.

"Ineta," he calls, slightly out of breath from beating the soldier so harshly. As he gestures for her to approach him, the Baron stirs uneasily, grunting his disapproval from behind several mouthfuls of honeyed duck.

"Yes, Your Lordship?" she replies obediently. Ineta has mastered the art of standing delicately, like a lady would, with her hands folded before her and her face trained into a pleasantly neutral expression. Something close to docile, but not anything so violent as eager or happy.

"What do you think?" Rabban hoists the prisoner to his feet. "Did I do well to bring you a traitor to our house? Do you recognize him?"

Ineta studies the prisoner's broken face dutifully, observing the swells of broken skin and matted hair where his forehead would have been and the unnatural angle his broken nose twisted. The man's eyes were so swollen, she could not see the whites of them. She meets the Count's eyes again, hoping her shaking hands were not noticeable.

"No, Count, who is he?"

"This is none other than Duncan Idaho, pretty. None other than your childhood sweetheart, you remember? And now he's a boy playing soldier with the Atreides, a traitor!"

Rabban's eyes give away a flash of violence and Ineta bites her tongue as he swings the man's face into the ground, kneeling over his back. She responds quickly.

"I could not tell, Your Lordship. You have done well to seek him out, and to punish him for having betrayed the Baron's benevolence."

"My benevolence, sweet girl, has nothing to do with it. Be gone with him, Rabban. I doubt she even remembers this boy you say is Duncan Idaho. I don't know why you harp on about a man of such little significance," the Baron sighs. He hated nothing more than his nephew's impulsive bursts of aggression for no reason other than extravagant brutality. Especially at dinner. Especially if it was to peacock in front of Ineta.

Rabban scoffs, picking Idaho up by his collar.

"What do you say, Ineta? Is he insignificant enough to die a fast death?"

He picks out a thin blade, almost comical compared to the heft of his fist, from a sheath at his side and holds it against Idaho's neck. Ineta could hardly tell if the man even perceived the edge of the dagger at his pulse.

Duncan Idaho. The name is familiar to her. She recalls a young boy with golden eyes and a penchant for stealing her schoolbooks to tease her. She thinks that maybe he's the one who'd comforted her once, when she'd been crying after a particularly harsh lesson. A playmate or a peer, but certainly not a childhood sweetheart. Still, those were such long years ago. It didn't matter whether this was Duncan Idaho or not. What a waste of bravery and strength, being killed like this. Ineta feels pang of pity for the man.

"Please, Your Lordship, may you not spare him? If not for me, then in the hopes that he may recognize your power over him and that he may defect. Perhaps he knows about what the Atreides do, or some weakness you could seize on?" Ineta says.

"Aha!" the Baron laughs. "You see, Rabban? Even this slip of a girl has more brains than you!"

Rabban glowers, but sheaths his weapon.

{}{}{}{}

Ineta shuts the door to the Baron's study slowly, waiting for the lock to slide into place before stepping quietly away from it into the corridor. There's need for stealth. The Baron kept guards stationed all along the halls during sleeping hours.

She turns her head, scanning for signs of detection once she was a few paces from the office.

There's a second mission she has tonight. Ineta ghosts her hand across the pocket in her skirt again, just to reassure herself. Sure enough, she feels the bulge of the surgical needle and thread, and the fistful of bread she'd skimmed from off her own dinner plate. It's daring, maybe even treason.

No, she thinks, it is treason.

The stairwell leading west towards the dungeons were a ways from where she was, so she moves boldly. Better to be seen with nothing to hide than caught lurking.

But as she winds across a sharp turn, nearly there, she finds herself nose to nose with a young serving girl, Renate. Renate had wide, round eyes, even wider now in surprise, and a face full of delicate features that put her at odds with most other laborers from the Giedi Prime. People here tended to be rugged, more bulk than the clean-limbed frame that Ineta recognized in Renate. Ineta had always liked her, pitied her slightly more than others. She, too, knew what it was like to be a foreigner, having been born on Arrakis to an unknown Fremen woman.

"Miss!" Renate gasps, her hand quickly following the exclamation to her mouth. She leans forward with concern. "What are you doing here?"

"Avoiding Rabban," Ineta lies. "You know how he is, and he's in a foul mood with me after that business with the prisoner."

Renate looks to her feet and sighs. See, Renate does know how Rabban is, being one of the handful of women that he's dogged after. While Ineta had the benefit of some status, and some protection from the Baron, Renate had nothing but her wits. Ineta squeezes the girl's shoulder gently.

"Don't go around sleeping chambers tonight if you can help it," Ineta pauses. She had to consider that Renate had no say over whether or not her duties brought in into Rabban's path. Ineta grasped her hand. "But in case, this is for His Lordship to... sleep easier," Ineta says, slipping a small vial of sleeping draught into Renate's hand, brows raised pointedly.

"Yes, miss! Thank you," Renate said resolutely, eyes shining with determination. "Good night, miss!"

Ineta slips away, and once Renate's footsteps faded, she began a steady trot down the stairs and into the belly of the dungeons. The guards there could be bribed, she knew, and no one would be the wiser. Please, let no one be the wiser, she prays.

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thanks for reading!

#duncan idaho #duncan idaho x female reader #duncan idaho x reader #duncan idaho imagine #duncan idaho x you #duncan idaho x y/n #dune #dune fanfiction #jason momoa characters #jason momoa #duncan idaho x OC

[fablelady]

dune imagine challenge... kinda?

alright so this is just a fun-if-ya-wanna-try kinda imagine thingy?

basically it's this: Imagine Reader is an eldritch/Goddess who went to a dormant like sleep before mankind travelled across the stars. when they wake up they see how utterly chaotic and gone to shit everything is and is like "the fuck? i leave you lot along for at least 5 mins?!". So Reader goes about fixing things in the dune universe, but then Reader comes across arakis and is curious. they watch as life goes about down there and they see Stilgar and is basically like "oh shit, he's hot... do i really like a mortal sand man?... yes, yes i do" and the rest i leave up to any dune fic writer!!

really i just wanna see yall try your hand at writing an eldritch/ god reader in the dune universe!! hell it dosen't even have to be with stilgar it can be with other characters too!! just thought it would be fun for yall to try and see how a universe with no actual gods or immortale acendended Eldritch like beings will react to having one around!!!

rule 1: just have fun with it!!

#dune x reader #stilgar imagines #stilgar x reader #dune imagine #gurney halleck #feyd rautha #paul atreides #leto atreides #duncan idaho #gurney x reader #feyd x reader #duncan x reader #paul x reader #chani kynes #chani x reader #all dune characters x reader #imaginge challenge #go crazy with this i dare you #but you don't have to go crazy if ya don't wanna it's okay!!

[avatar-of-procrastination]

Hey love!! How are you?

I was wondering if maybe you could write an imagine for Dune characters (Leto, Jessica, Paul, Gurney and Duncan) the reader who gets seriously injuried (like almost fatal injury) and how they would react to that?

If you don't feel up to this, that's perfectly fine! I will understand! Your writing is great and I love every single one of your works ❤️❤️

PLEASE COME BACK

Heya anon!! I'm doing much better now, thank you for asking 🥺🤍

Tysm for the ask, anon! I loved writing this!! This has been in my drafts for a long time, soooo sorry for the delay. Hope you like this <3

I have only seen the movies and haven't yet read the books. So most probably there will be some ooc moments.

Obligatory apologies for any gramatical/spelling mistakes. English is not my first language.

Gifs not mine

PAUL ATREIDES

You were surrounded by the harkonnes and were already worn out from fighting for so long.

You pushed yourself to the max and killed the last of the enemy and ran towards Paul, barely holding his own.

He noticed you running towards him and breathed a sigh of relief. He cracked a small smile at you but it turned into a look of terror. He screamed at you to look out but it was too late.

One of the soldiers shot you in the abdomen and you slumped forward. With the exhaustion of the fight finally hitting you, you could feel yourself slowly drifring out of conciousness.

Paul killed the men around him and immediately called for help and cradled your head in his lap, whispering to you to stay strong.

He might have even tried to use The Voice on you but you wouldnt respond

He pressed his hand onto the wound, trying to stop the massive blood flow.

You placed your hand on his and whispered, "I love you" before closing your eyes and entering a blissful sleep.

Paul would've been absolutely devestated.

Personal care would be the last priority. He wanted to see your eyes, your smile. He wanted to hear you call out to him.

He didn't want to spend another minute without you beside him

His mother tried to get him to sleep but everytime he did, he had nightmares showing him that he was the one that caused you such pain.

DUKE LETO

(inspired by that scene in AoS)

You were bound to the chair in a dark and dingy room

The enemy had placed a gun behind you in such a way that when a person comes through the door, it pulls the trigger and kills them

You were the wife of Duke Leto and you knew that he'd do anything to save you

Your hands ached from being tied so tightly behind the chair.

You heard fighting and gunshots and tried to scream through the rags

The unmistakable sound of your love's footsteps came from outside the door and you frantically screamed, trying to stop him

You managed to shift the chair towards the gun just as the door opened.

Leto heard a bang as he opened the door and was met with the horryfying image of you slouched over the chair, all bloody and bruised.

He called for help, unable to control his tears as he saw you so near death.

Once back in the palace, Leto never left your side, opting to stay awake all day and night beside you. The kingdom could wait.

Jessica and Paul tried to get him out of the room once but he always refused

Because accordig to him, he wasn't careful enough and almost lost you

DUNCAN IDAHO

You were one of Lady Jessica's personal guards

You and Duncan had a close relation, especially since you were the protectors of the Royal Family

The palace was under attack by enemy forces and you and Duncan immedialely sprang to action

The masked men overwhelmed you and Duncan as you tried to defend the Royal Family

Duncan managed to slice down the ones nearest to you and told you to lead the family into the secret chambers

You were hesitant to leave Duncan but you put your duty first and lead the trio into the underground tunnel

The enemy followed you down and you barely had enough time to push the Family into the secured room before having to once again defend yourself.

You could hear Paul calling out to you through the door, afraid for your life

You continued to fight the enemy but it seemed as more and more of them kept popping up. You were growing tired by the minute

Duncan heard you grunting below and quickly killed the last of the enemy next to him

He saw you conered by the men, struggling to hold your ground and his heart had never felt so pumped before.

You didnt notice Duncan running to help you. You were far too tired.

You let your guard down for a moment, and it was enough for someone to plunge a knife into your chest

Already exhausted, your body gave up and you blacked out.

Duncan had never felt such rage before. He shot down every last person and ran to help you up

"Come on now, y/n. Please dont give up on me. Theres still so much i have to say."

GURNEY HALLECK

(Lets just assume that Paul is around 4-5 yrs for this hc)

It was a shock to everyone to see the usualy grumpy warrior grace a smile on his face when with you.

You were Paul's caretaker and had bonded with the Army's most revered warrior

It was a normal day and you were cleaning up after the young prince who had sprawled all of his books on the floor

You heard the door open and expected either Paul or Jessica to walk in

When no one answered your call, you looked up to find men clothed in black advancing towards you

You screamed in fear as one of them hit you over the head and you black out

Gurney was in a meeting with Leto and Duncan when the guards burst in and informed them of the news. You had been kidnapoed

Gurney felt his heart break and rushed to the room where you were last. He saw your pendant on the floor, a gift he gave you on your birthday

Another guard rushed in and informed them that the captors had sent a video message

Gurneys hand shaked as he played the video, praying to all the gods to keep you safe

His heart dropped at the sight of you in the video. In the short amount of time you had been captured, they managed to bruise you up pretty bad.

He could clearly make out a few broken ribs on you

Duncan had to hold him back from breaking the screen.

One thing was for sure, those bastards had no idea what was coming for them

LADY JESSICA

You were Jessica's closest friend. The both of you had feelings for each other but it seemed like the whole world knew it except you two

You were heads over heels in love with her but feared how the others might react. So you kept your feelings to yourself

You were sitting beside her at the dining table with Paul and Leto, talking about the new artefact you unearthed with Paul earlier that day

You were calmly sipping your soup when you started feeling dizzy

Thinking that it was from the heat exposure, you ignored the dullness and continued your conversation with the family

You suddenly felt extremely hot and started fanning yourself wildly. Jessica looked over at you in concern. You could feel your skin burn

You were about to voice your discomfort when you fell unconcious to the ground

Jessica was immediately at your side, placing a hand onto your forehead.

She quickly retracted it, yelping in surprise. Your forhead was way too hot

Paul called for Dr. Yueh immediately

Jessica and Leto shifted you to the medical wing by the time he came.

After a few minutes, Dr. Yueh came out and informed the family that you had been poisoned and that if the cure wasnt found by sunset, you wouldn't make it out alive

Jessica felt tears fall down her face, her heart shattered at the thought of never seeing you again.

She forgot all about her Bene Gesserit training and let fear overtake her, immobilizing her.

Paul pulled his mother back, comforting her and assuring her that you would wake up soon.

She got up and collected herself, before walking into the massive library, determined to find a way to save you

#paul atreides #x reader #gn reader #duncan idaho #paul atreides x reader #dune 2021 #dune movie #paul atreides x y/n #paul atreides x you #duncan idaho x reader #duncan idaho x female reader #duneedit #duke leto atreides #duke leto x you #duke leto x reader #lady jessica #lady jessica x reader #gurney halleck #gurney halleck x reader #house harkonnen #leto atreides x reader #Atreides #dune #dune fanfiction #dune x reader #dune film #timothee x reader #timothee x you #timothee x y/n #oscar issac imagine

[inknopewetrust]

I literally have been holding off publishing my duncan idaho x reader chapter of epiphany because of what happens in the ✨movie ✨

I don't want to live through it again let alone write it

#x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #dune fanfiction #dune fanfic #duncan idaho x female reader #duncan idaho x reader #dune #if you know you know

[lieutenantfloyd]

If anyone has any Dune requests, I'm open to writing for Gurney Halleck, Feyd Rautha, Duncan Idaho, Stilgar, and Count Rabban :)

#dune #dune part two #dune x reader #dune x you #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #gurney x reader #gurney halleck #gurney halleck x reader #stilgar x reader #Stilgar #rabban x reader #glossu rabban #rabban harkonnen x reader #duncan idaho #duncan idaho x reader

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Female!Reader) pt.1

a/n: i had a "no bald men" rule before he licked a knife... so y'all know my priorities are in order. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (as per usual), Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atreides (it's just such a good prompt i couldn't help myself),

Summary: A month-long engagement to the na-Baron Harkonnen makes you question, whether a marriage can bloom on the grounds of hate. Loosely based on "Special Death" by Mirah.

Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.4 (finale)

The message comes from the Emperor himself. An indisputable order that renders your Father speechless. You've never seen him quite as distraught, as when he has visited you in your chambers to deliver the news. Hands fidgeting, eyes refusing to meet yours, heavy shadows falling across his face. He seems to expect your reaction, not giving you as much as a flinch, when you scream your protests at him. And he should've expected as much, you were always the more impulsive of Duke Leto's children. 

- But the Harkonnens are beasts - you argue, voice breaking - You've said it yourself, many times.

- Actually, I think that was Gurney...

- You've never denied it!

And he doesn't deny it now, head hung low. Never, not once in your life, have you seen your Father give up. Until today. 

Your Mother enters just a few seconds after him, her dress flowing around her ankles as if she had floated in on a cloud. She stands to the side of your bed, hands folded, and an impassive expression embedded onto her features. And the more she speaks of the centuries of breeding, the importance of an union and the powers beyond your understanding, the less you see of your mother. What stands before you, instead, is a Bene Gesserit sister, veiled in schemes and dark plans, which were in the making before you were even born. You curse yourself for not noticing this stranger sooner, and storm off, out of your room, your shawl blowing out behind you like bat wings.

Paul doesn't visit you, but you can hear him, even through the effort of swallowing down your tears. He fights for you against your Father. He would fight for you against the whole Empire if he had to, and your heart swells, as he throws a particularly nasty curse into the air of your Father's study. It doesn't change anything. According to the decree of the Emperror, the oldest daughter of the Duke Leto Atreides will marry Feyd Rautha, an heir to the Baron Harkonnen. A centuries long dispute is about to be put to an end, and all thanks to the small sacrifice, which is your life. All would be well in the galaxy. Really, you should be honored, to be tasked with such a monumental peace treaty.

Everyone in the court seems to know about your situation. Mournful looks follow you, as you walk into the training barracks, ridding yourself of layers upon layers of flowing fabrics, leaving you in a rather tight costume, light enough to beat your frustrations out on someone.

Duncan Idaho meets your searching eyes, and you know he is aware as well. All it takes is one inclination of your chin, and he's up on his feet, sword in hand. Loyal as ever, he stands in front of you, watches with mixed feelings as you enable your shield, no questions asked. None needed. 

He barely has time to put his defenses up, when you charge at him, fury and despair pushing your movements into stances which are clumsy and ill though out. Still, there's power within your strikes, a strength of someone who needs to move, unless they break. So he lets you, for a couple of minutes. He dodges your attacks, pairing some of them, never moving quite into the offense.

The rest of the soldiers scurry off somewhere, for which you will be thankful in the future. They might hear your cries of anger, but they will not see you break. They will not see the way your blade smashes into Duncan's shield over and over again, with no regard for the slow attacks, which would penetrate it. Likewise, they don't see your sparring partner fall to his knees and swipe you off your feet in a split-second movement, making you hit the floor with a frustrated snarl. And they don't see you finally give up, and cry, hugging your blade to your chest, the severity of your circumstance falling onto you, crushing you down.

- Never fight in anger, Princess - Duncan reminds you, voice cautious, and you growl at him like a wild animal - It dulls your instincts, makes you distracted.

- Did you know? - you demand, your sharp voice cutting through his half-assed lecture.

For a moment he looks truly remorseful. His eyes float around the room, and your heart sinks when he sighs deeply.

- I found out not long ago - he confesses - Your Father told me. 

Your blade slides against the floor as you throw it, a raw scream tearing through your throat. Duncan takes a step towards you, hand extended towards your shaking form. But, before he can attempt to touch you, you're up, rolling your shoulders forcefully. Tears stain your cheeks, and you wipe them roughly with the back of your hand, skin becoming irritated almost instantly. There are swords laid out on a small table, just beside you,  your fingers grip the cold handle so hard, your knuckles seem to creak under the pressure. Duncan readies himself as well, dusting off his trousers. 

He's not good at comforting, but he's the best at fighting, and if that's what you need in this cold morning, he'll oblige. 

- You'll make it through, you know - he says, his voice genuine, and you laugh without any mirth.

Your blades clash, faces coming closer as you absentmindedly notice small scars adorning his cheeks.

- You can adapt to anything - you strike against his shoulder, the shield pushes your blade away - We could send you to Arrakis right now, and a week later you'd be riding a damned Sandworm into battle.

To that, you laugh, this time your smile reaching your eyes. The idea is preposterous, but it renders your footsteps lighter, and you twist to dodge a nasty blow to the right arm. Duncan huffs a laugh as well, as you slip through his fingers. He points his blade in your direction, a smirk playing across his lips, and you bare your teeth in a playful display of wildness.

- Careful, Princess, you might scare your betrothed away - Duncan teases, as you roll your dagger in your hand.

- Scare a damned Harkonnen? Do you find me that intimidating? - the idea thrills you just a little bit, you're woman enough to admit it.

- I think you're fucking terrifying.

- Duncan Idaho, you better not be swearing at my Daughter.

Your face falls immediately, as your Father approaches the two of you, shooting Duncan a stern gaze which holds no real threat. Still, your sparring partner raises his hands, his blade tucked away safely into his belt. There's sweat clinging to your skin from all the training, mingling with drying tears on your cheeks, and Duke Leto tries very hard not to comment on your choice of processing recent events. Still, he nods at you, and like a good daughter, you put your blade away, walking from the barracks after him. 

***

The Emperor has called for a traditional, Atreides engagement. A mercy, which you're eternally grateful for. You're not too aware of Harkonnen customs regarding marriage, but given the House's reputation, it couldn't have been pleasant. House Atreides however, took to such matters much more ceremonially, old-fashioned to some. 

Soon, a ship is arriving, with your betrothed onboard, and a month-long courting period willcommence. After that, official engagement and soon after, a wedding. Then, you will be transported back on Geidis Prime, where a life of misery awaits. That's all the time you have. A month.  

The dress, which was picked out for you, is uncomfortable and shows both too much and too little skin at the same time. While your legs are bare and exposed to an almost scandalous degree, a high, stiff collar nearly chokes the life out of you. This whole getup was the idea of your mother, as an attempt to highlight your best features and hide all that might be considered less desirable. 

You have no idea what's wrong with your neck. Perhaps, by cutting off your airflow, your mother aimed to keep you docile. 

She frowns deeply as you tug on the fabric, nerves climbing up your spine, growing more desperate every second. She swats at your hand, and you throw her a look. Out of the corner of your eye Paul smiles at your antics, your only consolation in this hopeless place. 

- Stop fidgeting, you'll tear the dress - Lady Jessica scolds you, and you can sense actual worry underlining her stern voice.

The Harkonnen ship slowly glides into the atmosphere of your home planet, a black, awful thing. Like all things on Geidis Prime, dark and miserable. Soon, you'll join them, adorned in equally black and lifeless clothing, never to see your family again. Never to see the Ocean. Your nails bite into the collar of the dress, you can hear a stitch tear.

- Stop that.

Your hands fall uselessly against your body, as your mother uses the Voice on you. Wouldn't be the first time, you were quite the unruly daughter and Lady Jessica was determined to make a Lady out of you no matter the means. Still, this time, the unnatural tone feels more like a panicked plea,  than a light-hearted scolding. 

- Relax Mother - your voice is sharp, despite the slight tremble - In a months time I'll be gone from here forever, stuck in some blackened cell, wistfully sighing "ooh" "aah".

You place your hand on your forehead in a dramatic display of doubtful acting abilities. When you were younger, your mother would laugh at you, as you enacted scenes from romance books. You would throw yourself at a nearby piece of furniture, pretending to be some wronged lover, or an unhappy bride waiting for someone to liberate her. And your mother would clap her hands, thoroughly entertained.

Today however, she doesn't even crack a smile.

- I don't expect you to be happy about all this - she whispers - But I do expect you to wear your grief with some grace.

A slap would've been kinder, you think, and stare ahead, as the Harkonnen ship opens, and a group of people dressed in black spill out of it like ants from a drowning anthill. Your heart is thrumming hard in your chest, and your hand reaches out, despite all your apprehension, towards your mother. A force of habit, to search consolation within her disregarding the fact, that it was her meddling that put you here. 

Her fingers lace with yours, thumb stroking your palm in an attempt to soothe you. 

Immediately, you know which one of the bald headed Harkonnen is your betrothed. 

He's much taller than you, an imposing figure even despite his rather lean built. His skin is almost completely white, as expected, his teeth are blackened out, as expected as well, and his eyes are bearing into you with an intensity so oppressing, you almost look away. Almost. 

- I present to you, Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen. 

The pale man steps forward, releasing you from his gaze for only just a moment, to trade pleasantries with your Father, who looks beyond miserable as he fixes your soon-to-be husband with a tired look. Then, Feyd Rautha is brought before you.

There's grace to his movements you did not expect, as he pushes his black cloak aside, and kneels in front of you. Harkonnen were known for their bulky ruthlessness, but this one... This one reminded you of a panther, the way his eyes travelled the length of your body, full lips pulling upward into a barely noticable smirk. 

Customs, you remind yourself, as your mother's hand squeezes your fingers. You don't want to let her go, but you do, slowly, with so many mixed thoughts rattling around your brain, it makes your head swim. 

Feyd Rautha grabs your extended hand in such a gentle manner, you're almost convinced the Harkonnens have shaved some poor bastard and dropped him off instead of the real na-Baron. Then, he lifts your palm up, until his lips press against your fingertips, a gesture so tender, your heart does a flip in your chest. And then, it stops all together, when his grip on your palm tightens, and he pulls your hand closer, to kiss it properly. As if he can't help himself, he looks up at you, and you realize. 

You almost got yourself caught, but reading people's intentions have been taught to you as fervently as reading texts, and you can see right through this facade of chivalry. There's darkness in this man, a swirling void, which brings a wave of cold fear upon you. This cunning, depraved creature will soon enough become your husband, and you'll be stuck with him forever. How long will he keep up this impeccable appearence? Was this performence for you, your Father, his own twisted fun, or all the things combined?

With a furrowed brow, you tear your hand out of his grasp, a full body shiver running up your spine at the sight of his self-satisfied smirk. He drinks up your reactions like a man parched, and you fight hard to put on a mask of indifference, as he rises from his knees to stand before you in all his imposing glory.

***

You can feel his eyes follow you, as the welcome committee retreats into the Palace. He doesn't let you out of his sight throughout the feast, which takes place immediately after his arrival, and even now, as he gets ready to "entertain" the court by indulging in some barbaric ceremony of his, his eyes are trained only on you. 

It's uncomfortable, to say the least, having him stare at you, while you sit surrounded by your family, who, for the most part, say nothing. Except Paul. Your dear baby brother, your protector in all this madness. As Feyd Rautha throws his coat to the side, showing off his (admittedly impressive) muscles, Paul leans towards you.

- He looks like a hard boiled egg, don't you think sister? - he whispers and subsequently ends your vow of silence. 

The giggle you let out is caught quickly by everyone around, your betrothed included, before you press an open palm against your lips. 

- Behave - your mother warns, and you try, you really do.

But in the serene light of the fading sun, your soon-to-be husband's head does look frighteningly egg-ish. God, you'll get yourself killed, before the wedding ceremony is even resolved if you keep this up.

You're seated high in an outdoor theater. One of your grandfather's favorite places, where he used to dance with bulls for sport. Where he met his demise.

Feyd Rautha presents his knives to you and your family, their blades glint ominously in the setting sun. Again, you are struck with the sheer grace this man exudes. His movements, despite being forceful and wild, have a beauty to them, as if he was rehearsing ancient dance moves, rather than killing blows.

And, despite your brother's earlier comment, there is something enticing in the way his pale skin catches the rays of bleeding sunshine, slowly creeping towards the horizon. He's almost beautiful, almost handsome enough to consider. 

The thought leaves your head almost immediately, as the Harkonnen servants bring in his apparent opponent. Your heart drops to your stomach at the sight of a beaten, dark skinned warrior. Immediately you recognize a Fremen, you've read so much about them in your free time. You know how they filter water, what they eat, how they move through the sands, and despite your knowledge you can't fathom, why this poor man has been brought here. 

At your side, Paul shifts in his seat, all jokes leaving him in a hurry. The both of you watch, as the man you're promised to toys with a clearly drugged victim. Slashes bloom on the prisoners skin, blood sprays in the air. You refuse to look away, to show such weakness, even as Feyd Rautha grabs the poor man by his hair and with a forceful push impales his throat on the blade. Blood pours down onto the sand, paints the Harkonnen's face and chest a deep shade of red.

It's a brutal display of power, of cruelty and wildness the Harkonnens are known for. Suddenly, everything Gurney has warned you about, while training your fighting skills, rings like a thousand of bells in your ears. This is who you will marry, who you will spend your entire life with. 

You swallow down an urge to throw up, and stand up from your seat. 

The show must go on, you think, throwing your Mother one, venomous look, trying to force her to understand your pain. Then, you lock eyes with your betrothed, who watches you from below with a cruel smile, blackened teeth on full display. You meant to congratulate him, to play the part as instructed, but you can do nothing of the sort. Instead, you stare back at him, disgust flowing from your features like a broken faucet. 

Lady Jessica opens her mouth, but before she can, without a doubt, scold you again, you're out of the seating area, your footsteps echoing in the halls. 

Once you're sufficiently tucked away from prying eyes, your back hits the wall, and you allow yourself feel the luxury of unbridled panic. Your breathing comes out in fast, shallow pants, as cold sweat forms on your forehead. Thoughts racing, your fingers tangle into your hair, tugging at the roots. This is your future, the only future waiting for you, and it's filled wth pain and blood.

- Have you enjoyed the fight, my Lady? - you immediately know it's him, despite not hearing him speak before.

A gasp of surprise leaves you before you can catch it, and your back straightens almost painfully fast. 

There he stands, tall and lean, and terrifying. Blood still decorates his torso creating a contrast that is both terrifying and hypnotizing. He watches you, curiosity and humor swirling behind his eyes. You can't decide whether they are completely blackened out, or if they hold a blue, almost serene hue. 

- No - you answer, finding your voice entirely too shaky for your liking - I did not enjoy it.

He laughs, a guttural, low sound that makes the hair stand at the back of your neck. You know he wouldn't dare try anything here, right under your Father's nose while the engagement is still in the making. Yet, as you stand frozen, just you, him and the marble walls around you, dread finds home in the pit of your stomach.

- Was that man Fremen? - you ask, partially to fill the silence, partially because you're genuinely curious.

The man shrugs, you can see muscles moving under his white skin. He takes a step towards you and you will yourself not to run.

- Sometimes we bring a couple of captured desert rats home - he explains with a nonchalant tone - Mostly for entertainment.

The almost bored intonation he uses to describe this barbaric ritual makes something boil deep inside you. 

- That's cruel - you counter, emotions flowing freely onto your face, much to the man's delight - To deny those men the honor of dying on their home planet. To drag them into a completely foreign place, just to kill them for sport, like some animals... It's...

- Some of them live - he cuts you off, taking another couple of steps towards you, but in your growing outrage, you barely notice - Our brothels are filled with Fremen whores.

Your face twist into an expression of utter repulsion, and Feyd Rautha raises his eyebrows in a pathetic mask of confusion, almost childlike giddiness lighting up his eyes as he looks down at you.

- Oh, don't give me that look, my Lady. - he cooes, and you've never felt a stronger urge to slap the daylights out of someone - I know for a fact there are brothels on your planet filled with hungry soldiers.

- Yes - you bark back at him - but the people there are working prostitutes, not slaves!

He shrugs, looking somewhere to the side of your face.

- A waste of money, if you'd ask me.

- Good thing no one has - there's venom in your voice, and your betrothed sucks a breath through his teeth.

You curse yourself for leaving your dagger, for not concealing it somewhere in this ridiculous dress, because the way the Harkonnen's expression shifts freezes blood right in your veins. 

He looks at you, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, while something much darker lurks in his eyes. His bloodied hand comes up, finger making contact with the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can feel the thick liquid stick to your flesh, as he drags his hand down, painting you, marking you.

- You're quite the little viper, my Lady.

Watching him silently, you don't respond. Don't know how to, when he closes the distance between your bodies enough to make you feel the heat radiating off of his chest, while the smell of blood and sweat completely assaults your senses. It's sickening, the way he looks at you, like you're a new toy, just waiting to be unpacked and destroyed by too eager hands. 

- My Uncle, the Baron, has instructed me, to be the utmost gentleman to you. To woo you completely - his voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he grins down at you - But I just can't lie to my future wife like that, can I?

He leans closer and finally, you take a step back, sliding out of his space, assessing a cautious stance. His hand almost follows you, the skin of your shoulder feels conflictingly cold without him.

- Once we're wed, I will possess you completely - this time you stand your ground, as he approaches, circling you like a lion stalking it's prey - And then...

He leans down beside you, shoulder to your shoulder, close enough for you to feel his hot breath graze your ear.

- Like the bull that took your grandfather's life, I shall pierce you.

The violent innuendo doesn't slip past you, and with hatred brewing behind your eyes, you look straight at him, forcing your fear to lay dormant. 

- You're disgusting.

- And you're blushing like a lovely, virgin bride should - he concludes, sending an awful wink your way, before withdrawing from you completely. 

Your veins burn hot, as you watch him leave, a selfish confidence painting his steps, and you beg every God in existence to grant you a sword in your hand. Or a dagger. A kitchen knife would do as well. Anything, that would help you cut this unbeatable, patronizing, infuriatingly handsome smirk from Feyd Rauthas face.

Alas, you're left with nothing, only a small glimmer of hope dangling in front of you, after your damned betrothed's words fully register in your brain.

A bride you might be, but certainly not a virgin one. Duncan Idaho made sure of that many years ago. The thought makes you smile, despite nerves wreaking havoc in your body. At least that's the one thing Feyd Rautha won't be able to take from you.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune 2024 #dune movie #dune part 2 #feyd rautha smut #dune smut #dune x reader #he looks insane what the hell am i writing